by Aly Martinez
The list of people I needed to kill was growing longer by the minute, and as much as I loved the woman, Mira had managed to brand her name at the very top.
“He’ll be here in two,” he said, casually settling in the chair and crossing his legs ankle to knee.
I looked at the mirror and replied, “This is fucking insane.” But I wasn’t talking to Caleb.
“You are not wrong,” Caleb replied. “I lose my job over this shit, my wife will slaughter me. But she’ll do it real slow and sweet, so you know it’s torture but you can’t complain about it. First, she’ll stop cooking, acting like she’s tired from work and the kids, when in reality she knows I hate ham sandwiches, but I can’t bitch because she’s tired. Then she’ll start sleeping naked but telling me she’s not in the mood. I mean, she always eventually gives in, but Christ, she makes me work for it. Then she’ll start talking about having more kids, which she knows I would fucking love but wouldn’t be able to afford because, ya know, unemployed and all. Seriously, Lark. The woman is a domestic terrorist.”
I continued to stare at the mirror, ignoring his absurd tangent about his wife. My heart was pounding, my chest was heaving, and I’d been on the brink of explosion since I had been hauled into Mateo’s house to find Mira in a fucking bra, covered in bruises, and tied to a bed. There was a part of me that I knew would never recover from that. I only thought I’d withered the day she’d left seventeen years ago. But, when I’d seen her like that, the fear I’d felt corroding my insides guaranteed that I’d never be the same.
It was the exact moment I knew that it had to end.
The door to the room buzzed, signaling his entry, but I kept my eyes on the mirror and looked through my reflection.
“Ho. Lee. Shit,” Kurt drawled as he was escorted into the room. His voice was exactly the same as it had been the last time I’d heard it, and just like that day all those years ago, the nonchalance in his tone caused my blood to boil over.
It took every ounce of restraint I could muster, and there was very little left at this point, but I managed not to turn. I listened as the guard anchored his cuffs to the table before the sound of chair legs scraped the floor.
But still I didn’t turn. I didn’t trust myself to see him. Not yet.
“You need me to stay?” someone, who I assumed was a corrections officer asked Caleb.
“Nah,” he replied. “I got it from here. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
“Jeremy fucking Lark,” Kurt laughed. “Christ. To what do I owe this unfortunate pleasure?” The familiarity in his laugh made my skin crawl. It had once been followed by my own laugh as we’d talked about anything and everything under the sun.
I continued to stare at the mirror. My hazel eyes stared back at me.
My girls had their mother’s greens. Her red hair. Her fair complexion.
What would Mira’s and my kids look like? Would they get her deep-brown eyes surrounded by dark lashes, all innocent and angelic? Would they get her thick brown hair or honey-tanned skin? What about her smile and the way it could light even the darkest night?
I blinked at the mirror, a battered and beaten man blinking back at me, and wondered, Will I ever get to have those children at all?
And then a smile tipped the corners of my battered mouth.
I would have that. I knew it to the marrow of my bones.
I would have her, and I would give her the babies, and then Mira and I would finally be able to live the life we were always meant to have.
For seventeen years, he’d played us both.
Today, we turned the tables.
I was walking out of that prison with everything I’d ever wanted. And I’d leave behind the man who had stolen it from me—from her—to rot and wither until his dying breath.
Only then did I turn around.
He barked a laugh and reclined in his chair as far as his cuffs would allow him. “Fuck, man, what happened to your face?”
Silently, I walked to the chair and lowered myself into it, allowing myself a minute to take him in. Time had not been kind to Kurt Benton. His face was round, his frame was carrying at least an extra forty pounds, and none of it was muscle. His belly protruded beneath the gray prison-issued sweatshirt. His blond hair had been buzzed, but there was no missing the receding hairline that was only inches from disappearing completely.
Jesus, he was six months younger than I was, but he looked like he was at least a decade older.
“What the fuck happened to your face? You look like you haven’t slept in a year. What’s a matter? Your cellmate not sharing the covers?” It was a cheap shot, but I didn’t waste a second taking it.
His eyes flashed dark, but he smirked. “You know, you’re looking a little tired yourself there, asshole. You still crying yourself to sleep over my wife?”
“Ex-wife,” I corrected through clenched teeth. I had to fight the urge to dive across the table and let him know just whose wife she was—or was going to be. But I’d promised Caleb I’d keep it together.
I had to.
For Mira.
“She’ll always be mine, Jeremy. But I’m taking that you are still crying over her. I don’t blame you. She’s always had the sweetest ass. And that mouth?” The bastard winked.
I had to give it to him—he still had some balls.
I shrugged. “What the hell would I be crying about? I’ve had Mira’s sweet ass pressed up against me and her mouth moaning my name. Nah, man. No tears here.”
His smile instantly fell. Putting his forearms on the edge of the table, he angled his upper body toward me and hissed, “Bullshit. You were never man enough to take her from me. You might have gotten between her legs a time or two, but even Mira knew you were too big of a fucking pussy to ever take care of her.”
“Take care of her?” I whispered ominously. “Take. Fucking. Care of her?” My blood ran cold, but my anger became volcanic. “Is that what you think you’ve done for all these years? You think you’ve taken care of her?” I pushed to my feet slowly and controlled for fear of erupting. “Is that why, not four fucking days ago, your fucked-up friend put a gun to her head?”
“I had nothing to do with that!” he snarled.
My face vibrated as I yelled, “You put her in that life! You had everything to do with that!”
He clamped his mouth shut.
“Mira is not like you, Kurt. She didn’t have the taste for trouble. She just wanted to make a life for herself. And you…you fucking piece of shit, you dragged her down so goddamn low she could never claw her way back up.” I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and shook my head. “And now. Those fucking men you stole all that money from? When they couldn’t get to you, you knew they’d come for her. Fucking ruining her life wasn’t enough for you. You had to throw her to the goddamn wolves, too?”
Nervously, he flicked his gaze to where Caleb was looming in the corner before looking back to me. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t steal any money.”
I slammed my fists down on the table and roared, “Liar! You fucking killed her.”
His whole body jerked, and panic flashed in his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I grabbed the top file Caleb had set on the table and flipped it open. “I can’t get her out of this one, Kurt. This is not my world.” I peeled the top picture off and slid it his way. I didn’t need to look at it. I’d been there when it had been staged, and even though I’d known that it was fake, seeing her like that had damn near caused me to have a nervous breakdown. I’d had to be dragged from the room when Mateo put that gun to her head.
Johnson had already fucked my face up when he’d tackled me outside the door. But I’d gotten the gash and split lip thanks to Leo as he’d tried to restrain me. Those fucking bastards. They had known I’d never go for that bullshit. No fucking way I’d risk putting Mira in the middle of this shit with Mateo.
But he’d lured her to his house and given her the choi
ce, and she’d agreed.
Behind my fucking back. Without discussing it with me first.
I didn’t think I’d ever been so pissed at a woman in my life as I’d been when Mira had filled me in on their little plan.
The one thing we all knew about Kurt was that he loved Mira. It was sick and twisted and controlling and ugly.
But, to Kurt, that was love.
“See, that’s the thing about the world, baby,” Mira had whispered. “Life is not black and white. There is an entire spectrum of grays that we forget about. Good guys aren’t always good. And bad guys aren’t always bad. We know all too well that choices define a person. Choices we make with our heads. But even the darkest souls still have a heart. He manipulated me for years. It’s time we return the favor.”
That fucking woman.
As soon as I got her home, slid a ring on her finger, and put a baby in her belly, I was going to unleash immortal hell on her. Though seeing her wearing my ring and carrying my baby would probably turn that hell into a seriously lackluster tongue-lashing.
I had been the one who’d insisted on being there when Caleb broke the news to Kurt. I wanted to witness firsthand as the agony slashed through him when he found out what Mateo had done to her. I wanted to feed off his pain when he realized she was as good as dead because of him. I wanted to relish in the moment when he was forced to make a decision—him or her. And I wanted to bask in the glory of ruining him while freeing her.
So there I was, standing over him, watching the blood drain from his face as he stared at a polaroid of Mira in a bra, covered in bruises and bite marks, her head turned away from the camera, Mateo kneeling on the bed with one hand at her throat and the other holding a gun to her head.
“I have two hours to get this motherfucker his money,” I rumbled. After grabbing the rest of the pictures of Mira in various tortured poses—all of which I was going to have to have burned from my retinas when this was all over—I fanned them out in front of him. “You know Mateo. You know what he’s capable of. Where is it, Kurt? Just tell me where the money is and let me get her back.”
His fingers shook as he tenderly touched her face in one of the pictures.
He was still sitting in the chair, but I could see it.
The man was on his knees.
And, after everything he’d done, I fucking loved it.
“I…” He flipped his gaze to Caleb again and then back to the pictures. “He won’t give her back. He’s always had a thing for her. It’s not even his money.”
Oh, fuck!
My heart stopped. I did not need Kurt to be logical about this. It was the only hole any of us had been able to see in the deception. We’d hoped that showing him Mira like that would be enough to keep him emotional and irrational.
“He…” I started with no real explanation in mind.
Thankfully, Caleb did. Sauntering over to the table, he said, “Mateo paid off your debts. He’s been protecting Mira from the shit you left behind for years. Problem came when she hooked up with Lark. It did not make him happy to see her moving on with someone who was not him. He made a decision, and it’s come down to either her or the money.” Caleb sat on the edge of the table and picked a picture up. “Now. What’s your decision? Her”—he blindly stabbed a finger at one of the pictures, never breaking eye contact—“or the money?”
Kurt swallowed hard and tilted his head back until his gaze met mine. “I’d have turned it over years ago, but they never got me on the money laundering. If I cop to this now, I’m never getting out of here. They’ll add time to my sentence and I will die in this prison, Jeremy.”
The despair that laced his voice gave me pause, and for a brief moment, I thought about feeling guilty. I swear there was almost a pang of guilt in my gut.
But then I remembered when Mira had been shaking in my arms when she’d realized that her life had been a lie. And I remembered when Mira had clung to me on the street after Steve Browel had tried to kidnap her. And then I remembered the way the tears had pooled in her eyes when I’d told her that I wanted a future with her.
And then I remembered that, while Mateo Rodriguez had not in fact kidnapped Mira, the threat that someone would was very real. If we couldn’t find that money and publicly break her ties with Kurt, there was good chance I really would lose her one day.
And that alone made it all too easy to stare my ex–best friend directly in the eye and tell him the God’s honest truth. “And she will die if you don’t.”
Two hours later…
Never in my life had I wanted Kurt Benton to pick me.
Jeremy, yes. Always and forever.
But…Kurt?
Yet, as I’d stood at the mirror, waiting to see if my ex-husband loved me as much as he’d always claimed, I’d never wanted something more.
I’d burst into tears the moment he’d asked for a piece of paper to write down the location of the money. Leo had pulled me into a hug, but it was Jeremy’s hazel eyes, which flew to mine from the other side of the mirror, that had given me the most comfort. He couldn’t see me, but he knew exactly where I was.
We couldn’t be sure if Kurt had lied about the money or not, so despite my pleadings, no one had been willing to let him know that I was safe and sound.
I’d have given anything to see his face when he realized he’d been played.
But I’d have given more to finally be free of his shit and able to live the rest of my life with Jeremy, his kids, and hopefully our kids one day without fear.
We were now sitting at Guardian, waiting for word from Caleb.
I was in Jeremy’s lap, trailing my finger up and down Bitsy’s back, while he bitched at me for having agreed to Mateo’s plan without discussing it first. I was ignoring him for the most part. And it was obvious that he knew, because every so often, he’d sigh and order, “Say you understand me, Mira!”
I’d hum my agreement and then go right back to loving on my dog while nestled against the man who loved me.
On our way back from the prison, Jeremy had stopped at the hospital so I could see Whitney. I hadn’t been able to get her in my arms fast enough. We were both sobbing as I’d hugged her harder and tighter than ever before. She hadn’t been forthcoming about what exactly Jonah had done to her over the last few days, but she assured me that she was fine. And, with her clean bill of heath, I knew she was—at least physically. Her hollow eyes as she stared back at me said otherwise.
They were keeping her overnight for observation, but I offered for her to stay with me and Jeremy indefinitely upon her release. She refused. Which was probably a good thing, considering that an angry vein on Braydon’s head started dancing the minute I made the suggestion.
Why he called her Dawn, I had no idea, but there was no doubt he was the mysterious Dimples she’d been dating until recently. I couldn’t say that I wasn’t happy about this. His calling me King Kong in drag aside, I liked him for her. And, as he’d lounged in the bed beside her, his big body wedged in the small space, his arm curled around her shoulders, her hand resting on his thigh, I’d assumed they were picking things back up.
“Say you understand me, Mira!” Jeremy demanded once more.
“Mmmhmm,” I replied, dipping my lips to kiss Bitsy on the top of her head.
“She’s not fucking listening,” he mumbled.
I grinned and looked up at him. “No, Hyde. I’m not. You give me back my man and that might change.”
“So you missed the part about us going ring shopping tomorrow?”
My back shot straight, and I climbed off his lap so I could see him better. “Seriously?”
He glowered. “No, Mira. I didn’t say that at all.”
I slapped him on the chest, but I did it gently so as not to jostle my snoozing Bitsy too much. “You’re a jerk.”
He grinned. “I am? So I guess, now that I have your attention, I shouldn’t ask if you maybe want to go ring shopping tomorrow?”
My whole face smiled. “Serio
usly?”
“No.” He laughed.
I slapped him again on the chest, harder this time. “Stop doing that!”
He laughed and came to me in order to press a kiss on my lips. “Tomorrow, we are going to get the rest of your shit from your house. Assuming Mateo and Caleb give us the all clear on the heat being off your back, I have to get Melissa’s power turned back on, and then you two need to schedule a face-to-face to discuss when and how you are going to meet Sophie and Amelia.”
I grinned. I liked all of that. A lot.
“You know, after today, I think I can handle your ex-wife.”
He blew out a ragged breath. “I’m glad one of us can. Because I’m going to walk into the line of fire and tell her that, the day after tomorrow, I’m taking you ring shopping and then making you a Lark by the end of the week.”
My straight back shot even straighter, and I bit my bottom lip. “Seriously?”
He laughed, deep and rich. “Yeah, baby. Seriously.”
Careful not to crush Bitsy, I giggled and launched myself into his arms.
Yes, I might have been a thirty-six—creeping up on thirty-seven—year-old woman, but when the man of your dreams says he’s going to take you ring shopping and then make you his wife by the end of the week, you are still allowed to giggle and launch yourself into his arms.
I was still in the middle of my impending-engagement celebration when Leo came into the room and announced, “We’re good.”
The air rushed from my lungs as Jeremy rushed to his feet and took me with him. He gently placed me beside him and asked, “As in good, good?”
Leo nodded. “Caleb found the cash, along with all of Kurt’s books hidden behind a bunch of shit in an old storage unit registered to Jonah Sheehan. Bad news is he turned his back and I’ll be damned if that shit didn’t just run away.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Yeah. It was the craziest thing.” Leo smiled huge, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, luckily, Caleb got enough in the books and records to make a shit-ton of arrests. And keep Kurt locked up for the rest of his life. All good things for the city. But the cash just vanished. It was like a known drug lord, as you call him, Mira, just drove up in a U-Haul, had five guys load up three million dollars, and then drove off.”