For the Bond (Romantic Suspense) (Beyond Blood, #3)

by Flite, Nora

  Hesitating, I folded my legs and sat heavily. I was itching all over, burnt and drained. It was like I hadn't slept for days. Or perhaps, something in me was finally waking up. “For once, shake off your paranoia. Imagine a future where she lives. Where we get our freedom... and Marina Fidel.”

  The edges of his lips twitched. “I'm a practical man. It's hard to picture that.”

  I leaned closer. If he was going to attack, now was the time. I was within reach, and I was going to push my triumph like a knife into an open wound. He'd jump on me, or he'd give up. I wouldn't let him put on another fucking mask of false complacency. “I won. You said you'd give her a chance to prove she can be trusted.”

  Still as a statue, Jacob considered me for a long while. The only motion was the occasional drop of blood from his nose. Shame over being the one who had injured him was settling in. I had to stay strong... I had to stand my ground.

  Jacob had been the most important person in the world to me. Until now, no one had dared to share that space.

  “Yes. You won.” Groaning, he pinched the bridge of his nose and looked upwards. “I'll give her a chance. I promised you that much.” My heart thrummed, a smile so gigantic it was embarrassing. I was lucky he wasn't watching anymore. “You know,” he said, his voice wistful. “Part of me really does want to trust her. What an experience that would be.”

  Jacob wanted to trust her? My brain was working overtime. I thought about our fight, the angle he'd had me at—his experience with grappling. How he'd let go and stopped choking me out. Shaking my head, I studied him with suspicion. “You didn't let me win... did you?”

  His smile was too tight. Peeking at me, he kept squeezing his nose to stem the flow. “Now who's paranoid? Grab a towel from my bag.”

  Warily, I yanked out a rag and soaked it in the small water fountain. If I'd won fairly or not shouldn't have mattered. Jacob taking the fall intentionally made no difference.

  Except it does, I thought silently, handing him the wet cloth. Watching him clean his face, how quickly he returned to cool, composed Jacob, I stayed hooked on what this meant.

  If he had let me win...

  Then Jacob really did cling to the same hope that I did; Marina's continued existence. If the both of us were on the same page, the outcome had a greater percentage of becoming true.

  Marina was still an anchor dragging us down in the river. Perhaps, together, Jacob and I could pull all three of us to the other side.

  Freedom...

  It waited for us.

  We just had to keep ourselves afloat a little longer.

  - Chapter Three -

  Jacob

  My face ached—and for a good reason. I was still amazed that Kite had gone as far as he had. I had to admire him.

  In my bathroom mirror, I pressed the ice to my nose and chuckled. It didn't look that bad, it just felt awful. Constant thudding from the cartilage to my brain. The blood had stopped an hour ago. I could still taste the copper on my tongue.

  Leaning close to the mirror, I stared into my eyes—searched for whatever was making me behave like a mad man. It was pointless. I knew the reason. Burying it in more logic or fine-tuned plotting wouldn't help.

  It all came back to her.

  Dammit, I cursed myself. Lifting the ice away, I gingerly touched the side of my face. Tender, enough that I winced. Kite had a hard head, literally. I should have made him tap-out sooner. I'd had the upper hand. So why had I lost? My eyes held the answer that time. Out of disgust, I wrenched away, unable to face myself.

  Marina is twisting me up inside.

  The revelation was like a second collision. Scrubbing at my hair, making my scalp tingle, I threw the ice in the trash. This situation was going off the rails. Kite wanted to fight for her. I'd been roped into agreeing.

  I was lying to myself, though, if I thought I wasn't relieved. Kite had gotten his way—he'd forced my hand, freed me from having to make the choice. If Marina could prove she was trustworthy... maybe there was a way out of spilling her blood.

  It was hard to picture. Hard to hope. Kite was a rare friend, deeper than kin. We walked the Earth as corrupted souls, men who had been destined to suffer from the start. Nothing had gone right for us. Even our escape—the moment we'd made our bond—had been a curse.

  Once you killed, the river welcomed you.

  God, I was tired of swimming.

  Leaving the bathroom, I poured myself a glass of water. It was clean and crisp and perfect. It cut down my throat, cleared my head. Facing the window over the city, I hooked my thumb in my belt and just watched.

  The busy streets were so far away. I felt like I was separate from everything. I always had been, in my own way. The day I'd rented this apartment, I'd stood right here and smiled at the ground below. I'd thought, at the time, “This is the beginning. This is what we've been struggling for.”

  Money was so strange. When you didn't have it, it was all you wanted. It seemed like the one cure for all your ailments.

  But money couldn't fix the hole she'd made in me.

  Shifting, I sipped my drink—let my attention fall on my couch. The place I'd claimed Marina last night. Her red dress shedding like snake-skin, her body coiling and strangling me until I was dizzy.

  I didn't remember moving, but I had. Standing by the furniture, I reached out, ran my fingertips over the cushion. Marina had begged for me here. She'd melted in my grip until she was nothing but some unquenchable creature.

  Her words burned into my brain. She'd pleaded with me to let her come. I'd tortured her because she tortured me, even when I slept.

  I want to hear your pretty voice so I can remember these words forever. That had been what I'd claimed. I'd meant it. If she was going to be erased, and the most I could own was that moment, I'd take it and crush it to my heart. I'm possessed, I thought cynically. Reaching down, I adjusted my firming cock. I wanted to sink my teeth into her again. More than before.

  Now that I'd gotten through her walls, seen what was beneath, my craving was worse. Bending close to the smooth leather, I inhaled. It still smelled like her—that spicy, oddly autumn mix. I wasn't much of a praying man, but as I shook myself, tried to force the scent of her from my nose, I hoped with all my strength that Marina would do what we needed.

  I wanted her to prove herself.

  No... beyond that.

  I needed her to.

  It crossed my mind that she, herself, might not have faith in us. She'd told me flatly that she didn't trust me. I didn't consider this to be an issue, not anymore. Our plan would go forward regardless of how she felt. And... if it worked, we'd have eternity to earn her trust.

  This woman was a time bomb. Marina could explode and end us, or she'd be diffused.

  Only she held the code to all of our futures.

  Floorboards creaked; footsteps that announced the man behind me. “How is your nose?” Kite asked, belaying his guilt.

  Facing him, I saw the stained clothing bundled in his arms. He'd been using my bedroom to change out of the gym clothes. “Considering how hard you hit me, it's fine.” I tapped my cheek. “Swollen, that's about it.”

  He grimaced. “Fuck. I'm really sorry, man.”

  Waving his apology away, I slid around him and into my kitchen. He followed close behind, shoulders scrunched up by his ears. “Just forget about it. Things got heated, we've moved on.” Pouring myself a drink of water, I sipped it, leaned back on the counter. “All that matters is that we cleared the air.”

  His smile was hesitant. “Yeah. If you promise not to revenge-hit me at some random point when I least suspect it, then we're good.”

  Chuckling, I offered him a glass—he motioned it away. “We're going to need to come up with a way to test her. You realize that, right?”

  “The trust thing. Sure.” Shuffling side to side, Kite put the clothes on the counter. “Thing is, I don't... want to put her through anything just yet. This morning did a number on her. She was kind of sad when I left.
Like she didn't want me to go.” Frowning, he glanced up at me. “We should wait a bit, that's all I'm saying.”

  Running my finger around the rim of my glass, I clicked my tongue. Marina doing poorly was something I didn't want to dwell on. “We've been keeping her cooped up, haven't we?”

  “We took her dancing last night,” Kite snorted.

  “Right. But that was... different.” Both of us smiled, recalling the events. I shook myself. “Anyway, how about this? Let's take her out and do something fun today.”

  His eyebrows pressed together. “Like what?”

  Setting my glass down, I cupped my chin thoughtfully. “I think I have the perfect idea.” It was the right combination of practical and exciting. Something Kite and I hadn't done in awhile. It'd let us all shake our muscles out. Considering how much better we felt after our spar, Marina could benefit from a similar situation. Plus, for Kite and me, a bit of teamwork building couldn't hurt.

  All that lovely girl had to do was say yes.

  So far, we were good at getting her to agree to our ideas.

  - Chapter Four -

  Marina

  In the bathroom mirror, I ran my fingers over my neck. Both sides advertised the scars of my bad decisions. One faded bruise from Kite, one vibrant set of indents from Jacob. Together, these killers had marked me. I belonged to them.

  It was a bizarre notion. My head battled with my heart, making my thoughts struggle to come to life. What we'd done... it shouldn't have meant anything. It was just sex.

  Scorching, wild, addicting sex.

  Fuck.

  Gripping the sink, I ran the water and splashed myself. I'd done this four times already. I'd been in the bathroom since Kite had gone to his bedroom, changed clothes, and slipped out the front door with a brisk goodbye. His exit had done two things. One, it had allowed me to try and think about what we'd all done last night. And two...

  It had made me painfully aware of his absence.

  Right in my chest, a hollow ache had begun. Kite had sat with me before the sun had fully risen, listened to me spill my raw terror as my eyes dripped with tears. He'd comforted me in a way I didn't think was possible. And, if he was telling the truth, he'd promised more of that in the future.

  The idea that he meant it, that he'd let me sleep near him, not caring about my night terrors or my stupid whimpers, it had me losing balance. I walked on floating feet, numb in my body because my mind was using everything I had to make sense of this situation.

  Kite was a murderer. His best friend was no different.

  How had I let them break me down and slip inside of me?

  Thinking of their hands, their steamy whispers, had me shivering. I didn't like the part of me they were building. It was soft, and fragile, and reckless. It made me want to seek them out. To feel their arms and never let go.

  Smacking myself, I watched the red mark bloom. If I'm not crazy already, I'm going to snap before this is over.

  Over. What a thought.

  We still hadn't found the man I was hunting. His photo was locked away in my purse. I wished capturing him was just as easy.

  Again, I felt the flicker of doubt—the weirdness over how Jacob had been wrong about him being at the charity ball. It was hard to picture that blue-eyed man as being wrong about anything. You're going to get hurt, I told myself. They're tricking you. Last night meant nothing. You were just a plaything for them.

  But hadn't it been amazing?

  “Stop,” I said to no one. I certainly wasn't listening, apparently. Glaring at my reflection, I wiped the water away and left the bathroom. Alone as I was, I found myself wandering aimlessly.

  Kite had carved his name in my skull. My desire to be close to him took me to his empty room. Standing on the cusp, I peered inside. He'd left the lights on, the sign of a man who didn't care about an electricity bill.

  Out of habit—and perhaps as an excuse—I wandered further. His floor was still cluttered, but to my baffling relief, I didn't see those fucking black panties. I didn't ever ask who they'd belonged to. I never wanted to know.

  You're being possessive of a man who's sharing you with his friend, I scolded myself. The words did nothing. I'd already come to terms with the agreement. Last night, beyond a flicker of competitiveness and greed, I hadn't sensed that either of them was frustrated with the situation. There'd been no obvious jealousy.

  It was almost too good to be true.

  Lord, I wanted it to be true.

  Stepping around the bed, I smiled slyly. Bending down, settling on the springs, I pushed my cheek into the pillows. They smelled just like Kite; that heady, feral scent that left me tingling.

  Rocking on the blankets, amused by my own actions, I stretched my arms out. I made a snow angel, then pretended to be a kitten high on catnip. I might as well have been an animal, the way I was behaving.

  Breathing through my nose, I rolled on my belly and kicked a pillow off accidentally. Kite was messy, but I didn't want him to know I'd been doing this. I didn't need to give him more ammo to use against me. He turned me into butter easily enough.

  Reaching down to grab the pillow, my eyes caught something near my cheek. Maybe I was perceptive—they certainly kept saying as much—or maybe it was luck. I didn't care to debate the why. Under my nose, a secret had been revealed.

  The crack that ran up the side of his bed frame was thin, but obvious if you were looking. I knew about hidden things. I'd adored treasure maps and puzzles as a kid. Hide and seek, too, I reminded myself bitterly.

  Kneeling on the rug, I tugged at the wood with my nails. It took a few seconds, then the panel slid off. Crude, but effective. The insides made my heart pulse. If I was honest, I'd suspected that Kite hid things in his room for awhile. I'd noticed he'd retrieved his gun from here several times, as well as the money for my rent.

  Closing my fingers on the Ruger, then the stacks of cash, I shook my head. Knowing where Kite hid all this was a serious advantage. One I needed to keep to myself. The weight of the gun was decadent. Sliding my fingers down the barrel, I recalled how it had exploded in my grip the night I'd first fired it.

  Kite had chosen to share that moment with me.

  Shutting everything away, I buried my burst of guilt down. They broke into your apartment, I reminded myself. Somehow, that time felt so far away. Another world. Another life. Had my opinion of these men really changed so much?

  Fixing the bedroom, I smoothed the blankets and left the door open. I wanted to be as subtle as possible. If Kite knew that I had found his treasures, it meant he'd hide them on me again.

  It was comforting... knowing I had access to both cash and a weapon.

  My timing was good. I'd hardly settled on the couch in front of the television when the door jiggled. Turning, I held my breath—demanded that my heart go still as Kite entered. His coat was open, showing off a green shirt that stretched over his broad chest. There was a hint of sweat in the hollow of his throat. Had he run here, why was he so frazzled?

  The thing was, he didn't look stressed. I associated Kite and his random exercising with energy, a man fleeing what ailed him. He'd done it a few times after the first night we'd fucked. Avoiding me for days, building higher walls.

  Was he freaking out because of this morning? Hard screws of doubt burrowed into my lungs. If opening myself up to him about my nightmares had been too much, then I was a fool for agreeing to let him try and help. Shit. I should have known better.

  Kite faced me, and nothing in his wide grin and glittering eyes resembled regret. If I had to name it, that expression was glowing with hope. “Marina,” he said, dropping his coat on the floor. He took two steps and somehow reached me. Had he flown through the god damn air?

  “Ki—,” I started to say his name. He ended it on my lips, shutting me down with a kiss so fierce I forgot why I'd been worried. Collapsing over me on the couch, he held my hair, gripped my cheeks, endlessly trying to touch all of me. He was frantic. Something had happened, but it
had to have been a good thing.

  I let him nip my tongue, my eyes rolling back. I didn't want this to end. I didn't want us to end. His desperation was making my brain anxiously war with my melting bones.

  Finally, I put my palms on his shoulders and shoved until he gave me an inch of space. Looking into his heated eyes had me close to crumbling again. “What is it?” I gasped, tasting him and his salty flavor on my lips. He was coated in the raw musk of action. Kite had been doing something that had made him sweat. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” he laughed, a lie so big it showed me his molars. “Everything is going to be fine, Marina.”

  Blinking, I let my hands drift down his chest. His muscles rippled, his wink saying he'd flexed just so I would feel it. “You're acting strange.”

  “You think so?” Gripping my hair, Kite tilted me until my scalp rubbed the back of the couch. “Of all the things that are strange in this life, Marina... what I want to do to you is as natural as breathing.” The rough edges of his teeth rode up my neck, capped my mouth and kissed me until my arms fell to my hips.

  The knock on the door rattled my teeth. Kite was slow to move, glancing over his shoulder with a partial frown. “Damn, that's Jacob.”

  My chuckle was tense. “Are we going to get in trouble if he catches us doing this without him?” I straightened my clothes and fixed my hair. No one had explained the rules to this triad of ours. It wasn't a game that came with clear instructions.

  Kite caressed my chin, kissing me through his own laughter. “You're already in trouble.” The weight of his body settled on me, molded me into the couch.

  The knock came again, harder.

  “Let him in,” I said, willing the breathy quality in my voice to vanish. Kite kissed like no man alive should be allowed to. “We shouldn't lock him outside.” I was actually eager to see Jacob. As intimidating as he was, he called to life a part of me that couldn't be smothered.

  Puffing a great wall of air through his nose, Kite hopped off the couch. “Fine, fine. He'll smash my door down at this rate.” Gripping the brass knob, he twisted it—revealing Jacob on the threshold.