Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  The hand that was clamped over her face made her start, then panic. Knowing instantly what was happening, she kicked and fought her way free of her attacker, then scrambled away, her feet skidding on the cool tile floor. He was on her again almost immediately, his hands around her throat, squeezing, squeezing, until she saw black spots at the corner of her vision. No one can help me; no one can hear, she thought desperately … then, her feet flailing, she kicked the mirror. God … anything … she managed to hook her foot around the bottom of it and pull with her remaining strength. The mirror toppled, then smashed over both of them. Her attacker—Jared. It’s Jared. Of course, it is—groaned and rolled away from her, and then there was hammering on the door.

  “Mrs. Newlan! Mrs. Newlan!”

  “Help me…” but her voice was scratchy, her throat raw.

  Jared dived for her again, but she rolled away, grabbed a shard of the mirror in her hand, and as he came back at her, she swiped at him.

  The door was kicked in and there was shouting … Zea was fading fast, dizzy and in shock. She saw Jared’s figure dive for the window—how the hell did he get up there?—and disappear through it, before she collapsed.

  Kevin, the bodyguard, bent over the barely conscious woman. Suddenly she was confused. “The mirror fell …” Her voice was so low, he had to bend closer to hear her. “I … fell.”

  The bodyguard was silent. He didn’t believe her story for a second. Firstly, because she was flushed pink and wouldn’t look him in the eye. But mostly, because of the set of bruises on her neck—bruises, shaped and defined, bruises that were incontrovertibly made by another’s hands. He frowned, confused. She looked up at him finally, and he couldn’t miss the devastation in her eyes.

  “Mrs. Newlan, I…”

  “Please … don’t,” she whispered. He sighed and hugged her close.

  “Okay, okay,” he said softly. “Let’s get you to the emergency room.”

  Slowly, he reached for her again, and this time, she let him pick her up. He carried her gently to the living room and laid her gently down on the couch. He kept an arm around her, as if afraid if he let her go, she would crumple like a house of cards. He smoothed her hair away from her bloodied cheeks.

  “No, no,” she protested and tried to pull away. She stood up, too fast. The movement made the blood rush from her head, and she passed out. Kevin caught her, fear and worry etching lines on his face. Her head wound was bleeding again. He laid her back on the couch and punched 911.

  After putting in the emergency call, he went into the kitchen to find something, and stopped. There was blood, signs of a struggle. Anger welled up in him. He reached for his cellphone again and punched the numbers in. Flynt answered straightaway.

  “I really think you need to … Mrs. Newlan…” He paused, remembering her face when she had lied to him. He took a deep and shaky breath. “Zea’s had an accident. I’m taking her to the E.R.”

  “Flynt … she’s pretty bad. Come as soon as you can.”.

  After spending the evening with a distraught Flynt at the hospital, Teresa was shattered. Not again, she thought. Not more violence. Teresa lay down on the couch and closed her eyes. Sleep evaded her, the pain in her chest overwhelming. Teresa rarely cried, rarely let her guard down, but tonight, she let the tears come, sobbing quietly into the pillow until she was exhausted.

  She got up and, walking into her little galley kitchen, splashed water on her face. She glanced out of the window, over to the police station. She knew Mike was working tonight. Teresa grabbed her phone and tapped out a text. Seconds later, her phone beeped.

  “Come on over.”

  She smiled, pulled a sweater over her pajamas, and scooted down the stairs. As she pushed open the door of the police station, she could feel the tears start again. Inside, Mike took one look at her face and held out his arms.

  Kizzie felt drained. Ever since the idea of the concert had come up, she had been having nightmares. Bloody, violent, hideous nightmares. It didn’t help that Ethan was so enthusiastic about the idea. She hated herself, but at the moment, she was irritated with her lover. Oh, she adored him, but he needed to lay off on this particular subject.

  She felt his kiss on the back of her neck. He’d stayed at her place last night, and now Jesse was on his way to meet him. The two men were going into the city for a big game.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Hey,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee without looking at him.

  “Sup?”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on, Kiz, out with it.”

  She sighed. “Seriously, it’s nothing, babe.”

  There was a knock on the back door. Ethan opened it, greeting Kizzie’s brother. “Hey, dude.” Jesse’s arrival into the kitchen broke the tension. He clapped Ethan on the back, then kissed Kizzie’s cheek, snagging a coffee cup.

  “So. What’s the plan for today?” Kizzie asked when they had sat down.

  “We’re meeting the dean of Auburn at noon,” Jesse said

  Ethan grinned. “He’ll let us know about the concert and what we need to do. Then me and Kline-meister are going out on the town for the big game.”

  “What?” Kizzie interrupted. Ethan stopped, noticing the shocked look on her face. He frowned.

  “What?”

  “You’re talking to the dean of Auburn? I haven’t even said I’ll do it yet; don’t you think this is something we should discuss?”

  Ethan gave a short, incredulous laugh.

  “What’s to discuss? Whenever we go ahead, we’ll need to sort out the logistics.”

  Kizzie stared at him and then looked at Jesse.

  “Jesse, would you mind giving us a moment? I need to talk to Ethan privately.” Her tone was hard.

  “Of course.” Jesse slid from the room, only too eager to escape the tension. “I’ll be outside, bro.”

  Ethan was looking at her, mouth agape.

  “What the hell?” he began, but she held her hand up, halting him.

  “Yes, what the hell? We’re supposed to discuss these things, Ethan. We’re a partnership, aren’t we? And, God, I don’t know…”

  “Sweetie, I thought you wanted to do this? For Lexi?” he stressed.

  “Don’t bring my sister into this. I still think we should discuss things. Damn it, Ethan, you can’t just arbitrarily make fundamental decisions about our lives!”

  She broke off, her voice shaking. Ethan reached for her, but she pulled away.

  “No, no. I’m mad, Ethan, mad, that … was it your idea?”

  “What? Kizzie, listen, I’m sorry, but why is this such a big deal? Surely you want to do this?”

  Kizzie was crying now. “Has it occurred to you that I might not want to go to the place where my sister was murdered?!”

  There was silence.

  “You know what? This is ridiculous.” Ethan picked up his baseball cap, tugging it onto his head, his movements angry and frustrated. He pulled the kitchen door open. “I’ll see you later.”

  He hesitated, but she was like stone. He gave a frustrated sigh and kissed her cheek, quick, cold.

  “Have a good day.” And he was gone.

  Kizzie stood, frozen, listening to the echo of the slammed door ringing through the empty house.

  Fortunately—thankfully—Zea wasn’t as badly injured as they had thought, but the doctor still insisted she stay overnight. “You and the baby need to rest.”

  Zea placed her hand over her belly. “Thank you, doctor.”

  Flynt sat on the side of her bed, and when they were alone, he bent to kiss her. “Scared the crap out of me.”

  “Me, too, sweetie. Well, at least we know his intentions.”

  Flynt kissed her hand. “Darlin’, this ends now. We’re sweeping the city. Jared Podesta is going to wish he had never been born. I have six—yes, six—men outside your door. No one is getting in, so this is the safest place for you.”

  Zea looked up at him and saw the deter
mination in his eyes. “What are you going to do, baby?”

  Flynt’s expression was set. “What I should have done a long time ago, my love. A long time.”

  Jesse looked over at Ethan as they arrived at Auburn. They noticed the new security arrangements at the school. “Hey, man, you okay?”

  Ethan was pale, and Jesse remembered that this was his first time back in the school since he was shot. “Hey, you’re doing great, buddy.”

  Ethan gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, man.” His features grew pensive. “Damn it.” He sighed.

  Jesse smiled. “It’s just a fight, Ethan. You’ll get past it.”

  Ethan hesitated for a moment. “It’s kind of … our first fight. We’ve never argued. I know that sounds … but truly, apart from the obvious, we’ve never had an argument before, not like that. We usually just bust each other’s chops, kid around, you know?”

  He looked upset. They rounded the corner and arrived at the dean’s office. A receptionist greeted them and asked them to wait while she notified the dean of their arrival.

  The two men stood about the reception, Ethan deep in thought, Jesse watching him.

  “Do you want to go straight home?” Jesse asked. Ethan thought for a moment and shook his head.

  “No. No. I’m gonna call her after we’re done here and … I’ll take care of it.”

  The receptionist came back then and led them into the office.

  The next morning, Ethan ignored the pounding on the door. Facedown on the pillow, his head throbbed with pain. Jesus, how much had he drunk? He opened a gummy eye. Ouch. No, not a good idea.

  The pounding on the door continued. “Fuck off,” he muttered into the pillow and then groaned as he heard Jesse calling him.

  “Ethan? Ethan! Wake up buddy.”

  Ethan rolled over onto his back and by some miracle, managed to get himself into a sitting position. He took a moment, his head spinning with sleep, and then, blowing out his breath in a whoosh, got up.

  “Ethan.”

  “Yeah, yeah, coming.”

  He yanked the door open. Jesse stood before him, groomed and seemingly not sharing the hangover with him.

  Jesse smiled. “You okay, buddy?”

  Ethan rolled his eyes, then immediately regretted it.

  “I feel like crap; how much did we drink?” He motioned for Jesse to come in and wandered back into the room. He glanced behind him. “And how do you look that good—do you have a lead-lined stomach?”

  Jesse laughed. “It’s all a façade. My head’s pounding some. I thought I’d better wake you; we probably should head home soon.”

  Ethan went into the bathroom and started to brush his teeth. “What time is it?” he said through a mouthful of foam.

  “About a quarter of four.”

  Ethan stuck his head out of the bathroom in shock. “What the hell? Aww, hell, man, Kizzie’s gonna kill me.” He spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth. He grabbed his jacket and started to look for his cellphone. Jesse picked it up from the table and handed it to him.

  “I did try to call her at home earlier,” Ethan said, guilt all over his face, “But there was no answer.”

  “Sure, buddy,” Jesse chuckled. “Look, I’ll be downstairs. Take your time.”

  Kizzie answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

  “Hey, baby, look, I’m sorry it’s late. I got wasted last night and Kiz, look, I’m sorry. I should have thought.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry, too … of course, I want to do the gig. I was just … I’ll do it.”

  Ethan sighed. “You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have tried to guilt you into it.”

  “You didn’t. Ethan?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “I love you. Come home to me.”

  Ethan smiled. “I’m already on my way. See you soon.”

  Jared Podesta had gotten sloppy, in every sense of the word. The back of his rental car was full of drive-thru burger wrappers, which meant he spent a lot of time at said drive-thru’s—which all had CCTV. CCTV which, for the right price, could be scanned and analyzed for patterns in a person’s behavior.

  Which was why, when Jared pulled into the Burger King drive-thru that night, they were waiting for him.

  The CCTV, that night, was turned off—also for a price.

  Jared struggled against his captors as they dragged him through the abandoned warehouse but fell silent when he saw Flynt Newlan waiting for him. Flynt leveled the gun at his forehead. Jared sneered and spat at his feet.

  “You should have stayed dead,” Flynt said in a low but steady voice. “I’ve run out of patience now.”

  “Fuck you,” Jared spat out. “When I get to her again, she’s dead, motherfucker.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Flynt, “and I was hoping this would go nicer.”

  He shot Jared in the shoulder, and the man screamed, his collarbone shattered. “Cocksucker.”

  Flynt, his eyes dangerous and amused at the same time, looked at the two men with him. “Ah, who am I kidding? I knew it would go like this.” He leveled the gun at Jared’s head again. “Any last words, motherfucker?”

  Jared, knowing this was the end, laughed at him. “Sure that baby is yours? Or maybe it’s that cop who keeps sniffing around, huh? Doesn’t matter … it won’t live to be born once its mother is dead—”

  Flynt shot him through the head, once, and Jared dropped. The three men stood, all of them a little in shock.

  “Boss? You okay?”

  Flynt put his gun on the floor and stepped away for a second. Taking a person’s life—even a psycho like Jared—he’d never thought he would be faced with that decision. But threatening Zea and his baby?

  “Give me a sec.” He drew in a long breath. They’re safe now. For keeps. Forever. We have forever.

  He turned and nodded to the two men. Bill and Pete. They’d been with him for years. Pete had been his dad’s best assistant. He stepped forward now.

  “Go home, son. We’ll deal with this.” He nodded toward Jared’s body. “Go home. Be with your lady.”

  Flynt shook his head. “No, this is my mess.”

  “No,” Bill said firmly. “No one is going to miss this jackass. And we guarantee nobody but the three of us will ever know. We can clean the site, make sure he’s never found.”

  Flynt nodded, and the laughed softly. “It’s ironic … for years, people assumed this was what I did to my dad’s enemies. Truth is … I’ve never even fired a gun before.”

  “Self-preservation,” Pete said, already pulling a tarp out of a bag. “Go. Get out of here.”

  Emory woke stiff and cold, with the small kitten Dante had brought for her as company lodged on the top of her head. The afternoon had turned into a gloomy evening as she waited for Dante to come back. He’d gone to Seattle to speak to the police and find out the latest on the search for Ray. Because he had gone quiet, gone to ground. No one had any idea where or when he would come to claim here.

  “I’m safe here,” she repeated to herself, but she was on edge the whole time she was alone, and it wasn’t like her. She had always been good at being alone, but now … Dante was the bright star in her world. When she saw him, everything else fled away. She wanted so desperately to enjoy their love, make plans, and even in this idyllic place, she felt trapped. Until Ray was found or was killed, she would be in a prison of fear. She felt the terrible pinching in her chest again, more tears on the way. She cursed herself for being so weak, knowing in her heart that she was breaking.

  She lay on her back, trying to push away the dead weight of the depression dogging her. She wanted to crawl under a rock and only emerge when all this was over. But it wouldn’t be over until either Ray was gone or … she was dead. At the moment, the latter didn’t seem like such a bad idea. She’d rather Ray killed her than touch anyone else, but … it would be a pyrrhic victory at best. Was that the best she could hope for? It seemed like, now, at this moment, she knew what hopelessness felt
like.

  The fantasy of killing him loomed large in her mind, and she smiled grimly. Was it an option? If push came to shove, could she kill another human being? She snorted at the idea of Ray being a mere human. She knew, without a doubt, that she could do it if he tried to hurt Dante or Bree. Christ, yes. She would do it without thinking twice. But to save her own life? Maybe.

  She shifted, and the cat leapt from the bed in disgust. She got up and went to the bathroom. After washing her hands, she looked into the mirror over the sink and looked away again quickly. She hated the look in her eyes, haunted and despairing. She would light a fire, she decided, anything to regain some comfort. She curled up in the armchair near the window sipping her drink.

  Come home soon, Dante, my love …

  He cut the motor of the dinghy a few feet from the shore. He smiled grimly to himself—the things you could get, the silence you could buy with money. The tide was with him, bringing him in. He felt the satisfying rasp of sand as the dinghy beached.

  So close, now. So close.

  So close to the kill.

  Luca made sure Bree got to her car okay, then went back into the house. He’d been staying in the city apartment for so long, he’d forgotten what his life had been like on his estate. Tatiana had come to join him and Bree for dinner—Tat was spending more time here and Luca was comforted by her steady presence, her humor, and her way of making him see the lighter side. Her friendship had helped his wounded heart and now Bree, regretful that things hadn’t worked out with Emory, was making unsubtle hints that maybe Tat was the one for him. Luca didn’t hate the idea—Tat was intelligent, kind, and beautiful.

  He was smiling to himself when he walked back to the living room. He heard a noise, like someone crashing into something, a muffled cry. He looked up when Tat walked out of the living room, her hand over her belly, her face pale white.

  For a second, he couldn’t figure what was wrong with this picture.

  “Luca…” she said in a weak voice. Then her legs collapsed under her and as Luca rushed forward, he saw them.