Don't Trust Him: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Suspense (King Vs. Queen Book 1)

by Bonnie Kennedy

  But it might be no, we aren’t going to have any backup.

  I mean, Rafe wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place.

  Thank fuck he came back.

  But God only knows what will happen now.

  “Okay, prove it,” Zario says to me. “You kill Grayson Teague with me, and you don’t have to spend the last four hours of your life taking my cock. I’ll let you live and you can run this lab for me. I’ve heard how good you are,” Zario says.

  Then Zario cracks his Glock clear over Grayson’s face, cracking things I never want to hear crack again.

  Blood splatters everywhere.

  Zario kicks Grayson.

  I kick the other side.

  I punch him. I slap him.

  I tear into him, and Zario just starts laughing.

  See, I’m not holding back. I have a rage and a darkness inside of me. I have a thirst for vengeance. And that’s all that’s coursing through my bloodstream right now.

  My brain shuts off. It’s like it’s drowning in gasoline and someone else is controlling my actions.

  “That’s right, Lang, you fuck him up, you goddamn end him, and you have a place at my side,” Zario says, and he’s…proud. “You’re crazier than he ever was, and he puts cocks in throats without breaking a sweat. I like a spitfire.” Zario squeezes my ass and I hit Grayson again.

  I hear ribs crack.

  I did that.

  “Wow, you have this. You have a talent for this,” Zario marvels.

  I don’t know how to respond as he makes ready to leave.

  “I wish I could stay, but you’ve got this handled,” Zario says. “I’ll get details with your man Rafe while you finish this job. I’ll send a car for you in a few hours. Make sure you make the job last until then, but you finish it.” Zario is getting this kind of sick satisfaction out of these words.

  “Yes, papi,” I tell him.

  The words turn in my stomach but I know he likes them.

  I want to die saying them. But my actions aren’t my own. My head is spinning with past and present, reality and lies. I can’t trust anything.

  Zario gets two of his men to come in. They have their guns pointed at us.

  “If she doesn’t kill him, kill them all,” he says as he leaves.

  And like that, he’s gone. The final insult.

  I look at Grayson.

  He’s barely fucking hanging on, he’s bleeding so much. So much of him is broken. I flinch internally remembering Juan.

  Juan screamed. Cried. Begged.

  Grayson’s eyes are vacant. His only sounds are involuntary sounds of pain.

  But Zario fucking left…a small part of my brain is repeating that.

  I don’t even start to realize that Zario is really leaving, Grayson barely hanging on to life, and that we may have made our way out of it, for a while.

  “He’s going to die,” Rafe says quietly. I almost don’t register the words.

  Is this what my mom felt when she killed my dad? Did she compartmentalize? Did it make it easier for her to torture me before she died?

  Am I my mother’s daughter?

  Rafe looks at me, grabbing my chin, and I nearly bite his fucking hand off before I think about who he is.

  Grayson’s breathing heavy in his chains, blood flowing down his cracked ribs. I grab him by the throat and look into his eyes, seeing the same fire and lust that makes him so dangerous to me.

  I want this partnership to work, and I want to trust us. Before I told myself that he and I are too much alike. Wouldn’t we spend the rest of our lives fighting, fucking, and watching our backs until one killed the other?

  But even if that was true, why does part of me scream inside, even then, that’s worth it?

  Because we belong together. Because I trust him.

  But torturing Grayson with Zario makes my thoughts muddled. Makes me remember that fear and how I couldn’t trust him, and I can’t keep a strong grip on reality the whole time, so it’s like someone shaking me in and out of it.

  Zario’s gone, left me with Grayson to finish the job.

  Zario probably knows I won’t do it, but maybe I convinced him? His guards look at us, waiting to see the spectacle.

  This is a test. I know it is. I know that we have to get the fuck out of here.

  After Zario intercepted us from the plane before we could take off for paradise, he went to string Grayson up in chains.

  I started helping.

  Rafe and I began to try and throw Grayson under the bus from the very beginning. Said we wanted to use Grayson to get to him.

  Zario didn’t want to believe it, but I could see that dirty fucker wanted to fuck me. Rafe and Grayson both about lost their minds, and I about lost every lunch I’ve ever eaten and told him that if he made me his queen, he’d get to taste what fucking me is like.

  Apparently Zario’s proof from me now, his revenge, is me fucking Grayson up.

  “Fuck that motherfucker up, puta,” one of the guards says. I nod my head and look at Grayson.

  The guards watch as Rafe and I unleash on Grayson again for their benefit. We beat him and kick him.

  I think back to before Zario left. I shoved my tits in Grayson’s face while Zario grabbed my ass with one hand and broke Grayson’s rib with his Glock.

  Something broke inside my brain, changed me forever, and none of it is making sense. I’m piecing this all together.

  Zario may actually believe me after he saw the violence I was capable of with Grayson chained. Getting off on the cruelty as my fractured little brain thought about my mother, about everything horrible that we’d gone through, I channeled a darkness within me. My brain sought refuge in the fears I thought I’d conquered.

  It changed me. And it became believable because Grayson was so badly beaten and close to death.

  I’m shaking. Trembling. I want refuge in Grayson but it’s like I was riding my bike downhill and can’t slow myself down. I’m trapped inside my brain, needing to get free and get Grayson free.

  I hope Grayson knows. He must, right?

  Because we’re supposed to be forever.

  I just may have killed him to save him.

  Thirty-Two

  Eliza

  Wiping up a drip of blood from Grayson chin, I scoop it up and rub it against his lower lip, drawing it into my mouth and positioning myself between his legs.

  Even tattered, torn, shaking, bleeding, broken—Grayson’s cock is hard as steel and pressed against me. I throw my head back, unable to stifle a moan.

  I find home in him. I crave him even if I’m out of my mind. And I want him to protect me from everything that just happened. I know, that’s fucked up. He’s bleeding, aching, but...my head is fucking drowning in gasoline. Fire. Pain.

  “Let my hands free,” Grayson groans.

  The heat and lust in his voice now is unbearably persuasive. I want to. Even if he just kicks me in the teeth, I’ll knock him to the ground and put his hands on my ass.

  I’m remembering fighting.

  That’s not us anymore, right?

  Part of it doesn’t matter.

  Every instance of us, I want him. I want Grayson when we’re trying to kill each other just as much when we’re swearing our true love to each other.

  I want him to drag me down into hell, though all I see is heaven when we are together. I realize this now. No matter our fate, I know it is linked. I want it that way. This is our destiny, writ together in blood, wrought together with wrath. Everything has led to this.

  “Time to end this, bitch,” one of the guards says. “Kill that motherfucker.”

  I don’t know what to do here.

  I step back and appraise him. And that’s when I hear a massive bang on the doors.

  Grayson wouldn’t be one of us if he didn’t have a guy, who busted in right here. Even when it seemed like we had no one else, he’s got a guy.

  A guy who runs up to us and takes out a pistol with a silencer and shoots one of t
he guards dead before anyone can say or do anything.

  That gives me the opportunity to go and kick the other guards feet out from under him before bringing my foot down on his neck and crunching it.

  Grayson’s guy looks at me as I get my bearings. He lunges for me.

  “Leave,” I groan, taking a swift hit that clacks my teeth and makes me taste my own blood.

  “I’m going to kill you for what you did,” he says to me.

  “Good,” I say, sweeping the feet of the guy coming at me. It isn’t hard enough to knock him over, but it distracts him while I elbow him between the eyes, grab his gun, and point between his eyes.

  I’m going to pull the trigger when a voice stops me.

  “Get out,” Grayson yells to his man.

  “Sir,” the guy groans back. Jesus. It’s like stop and go three stooges level shit here..

  “Get. Out,” Grayson says.

  The guy leaves with Rafe.

  We’re free, as far as I can tell.

  “Let one arm free,” Grayson's voice roughly commands before he spits blood to his side. He’s talking to me, and his guy scurries out.

  “Just one?” I ask, sauntering back to Grayson, swaying my hips. My pussy throbs at the sight of him.

  I want him.

  Broken, bleeding, but not really begging. He’s still Grayson.

  “I only need one. Or just my tongue if you won’t give me that,” he says in a low, sensual voice.

  My mouth overtakes his lower lip, sucking just hard enough to taste his moan of pain.

  “I want you so fucking much,” I tell him, feeding the words into his mouth.

  “Eliza,” Grayson growls, kissing me harder.

  One of my hands reaches up and unchains just one of his hands.

  The instant his tattered hand is free, it pulls my hair into his fist and brings me tighter to him.

  He kisses me so hard, so fiercely, it could be the death blow he’s dealing. I want him inside me, in my soul, to overtake me only the way he knows how.

  “Grayson,” I gasp out his name when I finally come up for air. My body forces me to, and his name is like a plea to be suffocated by him instead.

  I release his other arm and Grayson pounces me like a feral cat, on top of me as he's every bit the predator I know he is.

  His blood, already splattering the silk of my blouse, coats me and sticks us together like we’re covered in syrup. He yanks down my skirt, tearing it from my thighs. Grayson doesn’t even tear off my panties, though, pushing my thong to the side.

  I hear the rough movement of his bones. He needs someone to look at his ribs, maybe even his shoulders, but he groans and spreads my legs apart, pushing them up to my ears, and his fingers return to where he moved my thong. Those fingers roughly scrape against my skin, stroking then my wetness, claiming and petting me like a prized kill.

  His thumb enters my pussy, stroking deep, and I cry out and I thrust my hips up, but he slams me down with his hips. The way my legs are up and pinned under him, I’m small and trapped, utterly prey beneath him. His strokes hit such a deep angle, Grayson is rewriting my body to completely belong to him.

  “Fuck,” he moans when my pussy clenches around his fingers.

  I cum with furious need, desperate for even this touch. This claiming.

  Quickly withdrawing his fingers, I moan desperately, a long wailing sound of need at his absence.

  I watch him suck my juices off his finger while he jams his cock inside of me. My eyes shut for a moment but I will them open to look at Grayson’s face while he fucks me so hard and bent so extremely it seems like he wants to break me in half with his cock.

  I’m screaming.

  Grayson turns me over and pulls my ass up in the air. Smacking my ass with a fierce slap, Grayson laughs as he sinks his fingers into me and buries his cock deep into me.

  I moan hard like a whore, loving every second of this punishing fuck.

  “Sounds like you don’t care,” Grayson says triumphantly.

  That’s when I pull back, enough for him to lose his footing for a second while I turn around and face him.

  My knees are at his ears, bending and contorting myself. I want to look at Grayson Teague while he fucks me hard enough to break me.

  Except this won’t break me. There’s an edifying baptism in the waves of pleasure rolling through me as we rut against each other like wild animals.

  I want every inch of him inside me and I won’t relent.

  He won’t either even though he’s bleeding and battered.

  Grayson cums hard inside me, I feel it hot and leaking out of me, but he keeps pounding into me with even harder strokes. He might have a goddamn heart attack if he keeps it up, and it enough that as my orgasm subsides, I pull myself off him and drop down to his cock, sucking all my juices off.

  “Sorry for fucking you up,” I say as I pull Grayson’s cock from my mouth with a wet pop.

  He grunts in pain.

  “Don’t be such a pussy,” I say, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I bring my mouth up to Grayson's chest, softly licking and kissing at the purple, black, and bloody patches of skin.

  We lay there for a while until Rafe comes back in to check on us.

  “Call a doctor,” I tell him. “Get a car,” I yelp. Fuck, this plan only works if I don’t lose him. And I’m not losing Grayson Teague.

  Not after that fuck.

  Seems a shame to have fought each other, and everything else, just to lose him now. I fucking need him more than I need oxygen. I’ll die if I killed him, fuck.

  Fuck.

  I can’t breathe for a second.

  “You’re mine,” Grayson growls. It breaks through my thoughts.

  I go to capture his wrists but Grayson has a second wind. He snatches mine instead, pins me again.

  Leans down, licks my face, and rubs his cock all over me while I whimper.

  “This war isn’t between you and I anymore, Eliza. Remember us. I know you fought so hard to save me, fuck, I can’t lose you now,” Grayson’s desperate pleas send reason coursing through the ocean of gasoline clouding my brain. I look at him and listen, because I need him to bring me back into reality.

  “This war, Eliza. It’s by us, against everyone else. You and me against the world. I know you don’t want to trust me, but I’m a sucker for lady. Wanna give her what she wants. And you want me.” Grayson growls into my ear now. “That makes you mine.”

  He could be lying. It would be a good move.

  I shouldn’t trust him. I can’t.

  But I will. That’s the downfall of all great rulers. They trust someone they shouldn’t and then all the power they had is for naught.

  And then I remember, feel reality flooding back in. My brain is muddled from remembering everything, from torturing Grayson with Zario.

  “Come back to me now,” Grayson commands me. And I remember. I remember us.

  “I’m yours,” I tell Grayson. I’m back.

  I’m not losing my fucking mind.

  This war is coming on strong, and it’s not between Grayson and me, it is waged by us. Just like it will be won by us.

  Because if damnation is coming, I want it at Grayson’s side. If we have to stand atop a pile of bodies to get to the top, so fucking be it.

  “I’m not stopping. I would go through you to have everything. But there’s room for one more at the top. Just one,” I say, licking my lips.

  He presses his face so close to mine that Grayson's nose touches mine. “There’s room because you’re sitting on my cock at the top. Baby, you’re my queen, like you said. My goddess. Through all of this shit, I have no doubt you could kill me any time you wanted. But you and I have something that didn’t start in this life, and it won’t end in this one. You’re mine. I’m yours. Always.”

  He coughs, choking up blood, and hot tears stream down my cheeks as he collapses against me.

  Grayson Teague died just 40 seconds later.

  Thirty-Three<
br />
  Eliza

  Grayson Teague fucking died in my arms, and it is because I killed him.

  I can’t think. I can’t breathe. In my head, my skin is burning. Covered in gasoline. I smell it. I feel it. I know I’ve gone fucking crazy right now.

  Grayson, the love of my life...

  His heart stopped and I held him against me for two seconds before I flipped him over and tried to restart his life. I screamed out to every god and every devil that I’d have him back. That Grayson couldn’t die like this.

  The car finally showed up— with doctors in it—and restarted his heart, and I sat next to him, cradling him best I could, for hours while they gave him drug after drug and did every surgical move imaginable to save him.

  No one said a word to me for a long time unless it was to tell me they were sterilizing me, draping me, because every medical procedure happened like I was attached. I wouldn’t separate from Grayson’s side. The guards showed up and stood in front of me for three hours before Rafe handed me an In-N-Out burger.

  “Eat,” Rafe says, his words cold and sharp and cutting through my foggy head just for a second.

  “No,” I say in a small voice. “I can’t,” I whimper out.

  “You have to,” Rafe says, shoving a greasy bag with a double-double, animal style, my way.

  Rafe is such a constant and I’d be lost without him right now. Rafe knew that I wouldn’t kick his ass for saying what need to be said. He took care of things. He never took my shit.

  And he’s a tough motherfucker. The one I trusted to get Grayson and I out of here.

  How can I ever thank him enough for helping me save the love of my life?

  Everything floods over me at once. Remembering the dingy scent of the warehouse. The clang of the chains.

  The way Grayson’s eyes took in mine.

  How I want to suffocate, remembering what I did to Grayson.

  Things I said to Zario.

  Zario’s alive now by the grace of borrowed fucking time.

  I know that we have other things to contend with, but one day I’m going to bathe in that fucker’s blood.

  Thirty-Four