by Flite, Nora
“You really want to know?” he asked.
I considered my answer. “I think I have to.”
Kite closed his eyes. His cool mask had returned. “The ocean. We poured him out into the ocean.” He opened the door and let the brisk air inside the car.
Stepping from the car, I begged my legs to stop wobbling.
The parking lot was cracked, the staircase up to my door no better. I'd warned him, my complex was essentially a revamped motel.
Twisting my key in the lock, I jiggled the handle. Nothing happened. Peering up at Kite, I flashed an embarrassed smile. “One second, it likes to—” I jerked it, grunting. “Jam. Ugh.”
Yanking the handle, I finally pushed the door open and breathed a sigh of relief. Clicking on the light, the small room was bathed in all its glory.
I'd left piles of newspapers on the couch, magazines and printed articles. Kite only had to glance at them to realize most had to do with Frank's murder.
He followed me in, hands deep in his pockets. I hadn't left the heat on while I was out, it was... expensive to run it all the time.
Eyeing him, I tried to tell if he was cold—I certainly was, and I had on a thick sweater. Kite was wearing nothing but a tan, short sleeved top that showed off his biceps and defined forearms. Had he left his jacket at the bar in his haste to get out of there with me?
The hitman shut the door with his hip. Watching him close us into a small space had my blood chilling.
Stop worrying, I told myself. If he was going to kill you, he wouldn't have taken you back here to do it. His story about the barrel had rattled my stomach. Following my own logic was a chore.
“Don't take too much,” he said. “You can come back another time for the rest.”
Stepping over a pile of clothes, I scooped up a duffel bag. “You're serious about me moving out of here.”
“Yeah, very serious.”
“No, I mean... I have a lot of stuff.” Glancing at him, I stuffed some clean jeans into my bag. “You should realize how much work it'll be getting it all out, storing it, that kind of thing. It's no joke to move so quickly.”
Kite graced me with a sly smile. “It won't be a problem.”
Not prying into his cryptic confidence, I moved towards my bathroom. He said not to take much, so I wouldn't. A toothbrush, some toiletries, I filled my bag like I was having a sleepover. “So which apartment am I staying in?” I called out. “Yours or Jacob's?”
Stepping into the main room, I spotted Kite bending over my couch. He was toeing aside some papers with the tip of his shoe. The instant he saw me watching, he stopped. “I offered mine up. If you hate it, Jacob will probably let you switch.”
“Probably?” I asked.
He shrugged lazily. “The guy can be weird about his personal space.”
Crossing to the kitchen, I said, “If he's weird, I guess that makes you the polite one.”
“No. It makes me the most paranoid.”
I felt him burning holes into the back of my skull. Opening a cupboard, I blocked the line of sight to give myself some breathing room.
Speaking of paranoia... Kite was managing to prowl my apartment while hardly moving a few feet. It's almost like he's looking for something. Frowning, I shuffled the boxes in the cupboard loudly. Through the tiny crack of the hinges, I squinted into the other room.
The red-haired man was using his shoes to slide things around, squinting beneath. Just seeing him investigating my apartment was pushing needles into my nerves.
Shit, I thought suddenly. He wants the letter.
Of course he did. Now that I realized it, it made perfect sense. Well, too bad I'm not so stupid. You won't find anything here.
It told me, though, how tenuous my life was in the hands of these men. If even now, after they'd said they would help me, Kite was scanning for the get-out-of-jail-free-card I had penned... it didn't take much for me to connect the dots.
If they got the letter, they could kill me without hesitation.
The thing is, they didn't know me. They didn't grasp what fear even was to me. I'd lived through the torture of losing everyone and everything.
Let Kite and Jacob plot my death behind my back. It wasn't my life that mattered to me.
If it had been, I'd never have stepped foot into their bar.
If I could get my revenge, I didn't give a shit what happened to me.
Slamming the cupboard was satisfying; I caught Kite jumping, trying to act like he'd been standing there innocently. His smile was strained when I came his way. “What's that?” he asked.
I waved the box. “Hot chocolate. Can't wake up without it.” Hooking the bag on my arm, I juggled it and my purse. “I'm ready. Let's go see my new home.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he approached me. It was sudden, too quick for me to do anything but hold my breath. “Here,” he said, a hand closing on my shoulder. “Let me help.”
The last time Kite had stood this close to me, he'd had his hand on my face, ready to muffle my screams. The man had been a lightning strike I'd narrowly avoided.
With his scent flooding my skull, my cells clogged with thrills and heat. His knowing eyes kept me still, and the slope of his muscles shoulders pushed all but one word out of my brain:
Sex.
And yes, I know that was crazy.
Kite buzzed with a primal energy that promised dark, delicious things for my body.
Dazed, I glanced at his fingers. Those tattooed knuckles waved, a flag to warn me who I was dealing with. Who was touching me.
Fuck, how did I make words again?
He reminded me by speaking first. “You alright?”
My tongue was wooden. “Uh. Yes.” Very much no. Get it together, Marina. “I can carry it, it's not heavy.”
He slid the bag off of me. I didn't even stop him.
My purple sack hung across his chest, indenting his shirt and displaying the groove between his pecs. “It's even less heavy for me. Come on, let's get out of here. I don't want people seeing my car.”
Steeling my nerves, I told my feet to follow him. My finger poised on the light when I reached the door. He waited for me to open it. I did, then turned back to gaze over the room.
My tiny, messy home.
I didn't know what was ahead of me. I only knew that, if I stayed here, this was what I would get to keep; a cold, desolate place to rest my nightmare fueled head.
Flicking the light off, I locked up and didn't look back.
- Chapter 7 -
Kite
I could smell her sweat in the car. I'd felt her constant shift between confidence and unease since the start. If she'd been anyone else—and I wished she was—I would have had her against the wall of her apartment.
Shit, maybe before then.
Pressing her against the car window, seeing her breath fog it up... the idea made me rock hard. Marina was a walking beacon of sex and boldness. I liked that. Probably too much.
I'd wanted to kiss her the instant she'd swayed into my life. Now, knowing what she knew about me, that idea had to be shoved aside.
Giving in to my basest of urges was too risky. I'd told her, leaving evidence was a mistake. Fucking her and digging my teeth into her shoulder, my cock feeding between her lovely thighs, it would be a map that pointed back to me.
I needed to hold back.
“This way,” I said, shutting Jacob's car and locking it with his keys. It beeped in the packed garage. Marina looked around, studying the space. I'd seen how wide her eyes had gotten when we rolled up to the building. “What's wrong?”
She blinked, scanning the cars. “Nothing.”
Following her eyes, I noticed where she was looking. My sunset colored Mercedes stood out among the vehicles. The corner of my lip twitched. She recognizes it, doesn't she? If she'd been stalking me at the bar, no doubt she'd watched me park it there before.
Hoisting her bag, I headed towards the stairs. “Hurry up.”
“Can't we take the elevato
r?” she asked, pointing.
I didn't slow down, my shoes clopping on the first step. “Sorry, not possible.”
Marina followed me, standing in the stairwell. Her delicate eyebrows were making deep grooves. “No cameras this way, is that it?”
Chuckling, I looked down at her from the sixth step. “Clever. Yes, no cameras.”
“If you don't want a record of me being here, it won't work.” Folding her arms, Marina shrugged. “Someone is going to see me eventually.”
“Seeing isn't the same as being recorded.” Turning, I started my climb. I wondered if she knew why I wanted no record. “It's a long way, come on.”
It took her a minute before she followed me.
Only fifteen minutes later, she stopped again. “No,” she huffed, wiping sweat from her face. She'd tied her hair back during the climb. The nape of her neck was hard to look away from. “I don't think I can do this. How much higher do we have to go?”
“I live on the twentieth floor. This is the twelfth.”
Marina pushed through the doorway on the landing.
“Hey!” I hissed.
Ignoring me, she was halfway into the hall before I reached her, snatching her by the upper arm and yanking her back into the stairwell. It was a smooth series of movements, the door shutting softly behind me in spite of my speed.
I pushed her against the wall, my lips inches from hers. “What are you doing?” I growled.
Wide-eyed, the sheen on her cheeks glistened. “I—I was going to take the elevator.” Shaking herself, she tried to regain her composure. With my fingers digging into her shoulders, it was hard. “Let go of me.”
Her breasts were touching my chest; I hadn't realized until that moment.
Fuck, she smells so good.
My cock gave an argumentative throb when I peeled my hands off of her. “Don't just act without telling me first. We're trying to keep a low profile.”
“You're being too cautious,” she said. Rubbing her arms, she erased where I had held her. “If I'm living with you guys, I'm not going to climb twenty fucking floors every single day. And I'm clearly not staying in your apartment for every hour.”
“I said no elevator.”
“You said you didn't want a record,” she argued. Pushing off the wall, Marina stood on her toes until we were eye level. “Is there a camera actually recording in the elevator?”
My molars creaked. “No. It's someone watching the live feed.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she purposefully grabbed the door handle. With me glowering, she opened it. “Then let's take the elevator, and I'll make sure not to look at the camera.”
She was right, and I hated that. “Fine. But follow my lead.”
Together, we ducked into the elevator. Grabbing her shoulders, I spun her until her face was in my chest. I heard the burst of air from between her lips. “Kite...!”
“Calm down.” I chuckled so only she could hear. “This way, he won't see anything but the back of my head. He'll think you're just another girl I'm taking home for the night.”
Marina stiffened in my arms.
Without looking, I bumped my elbow on the button for my floor. The doors shut, sealing the two of us away with a 'ding.'
Marina's hair tickled my nose. It took every bit of control not to openly inhale her smell. She fit against me naturally.
The front of her skirt bumped my zipper. Squeezing my eyes shut, I counted each floor.
It was a very, very long elevator ride.
The doors spread. Carefully, so the camera wouldn't catch a glimpse, I shoved her out with my whole body around her. In the hall, free of unwanted eyes, Marina was the first to break away.
She put five steps between us, lips puckering with her heavy breathing. I swear, I saw the hard tents of her nipples.
Using her duffel bag as a barrier, I adjusted my frustrating erection. Focus, Kite. Shit.
My door was nearby, keys already in my hand. I wanted the familiarity of my apartment. I wanted to get away from Marina. My fingers itched and throbbed.
“Welcome home,” I said, stepping over the threshold. She followed me in, closing the door behind her. The duffel bag dropped at my feet. “Want a tour?”
Her jaw was slack. I saw the surprise in her face, the way she wandered towards the giant windows and the sea of twinkling lights below. “You live here?” she asked.
Normally, this was where I would guide the woman up to the window, talk wisely about the beauty of the view—then touch her cheek and whisper about her beauty.
As Marina passed me, taking the position so many had before her, I resisted. “Yup. You like it?”
She pressed her palms on the glass. “This is amazing.” Her whisper smeared a light fog. There was a delightful sparkle in her eyes that transferred to her grin. “I sort of pictured your home being less... majestic.”
“What, because of what I do—or did?” I corrected myself.
Looking back out over downtown, Marina pushed her nose on the window. “Yeah. I knew you had to make good money from your clients, but this is just—wow.”
“You should have seen where I used to live.” Sliding to the counter, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey. It spilled into one of my few clean glasses. “That shit hole would have fit your preconceptions better.”
Sipping the drink, I saw her eyeing me. Was that... concern? Don't talk about your past, idiot.
I said, “Come on. I'll show you where you're sleeping.”
Marina left the window reluctantly.
In the hall, we passed my open door. “That's where I sleep. Not bad, right?”
She leaned into the room, noting my messy bed and the stacks of clothes. Both of us spotted the black panties. “Real nice,” she mumbled.
Ignoring the shame that started to creep up, I kept walking. Why the fuck should I feel embarrassed? I reprimanded myself. It's not her business if I have someone's underwear lying around or not.
Still... I wished I'd thrown them out.
The end of the hall led to a bathroom. To the left of it was a small, spare bedroom I'd been storing random items in. The bed was clean, I hadn't ever slept in it. “Just leave your bag in here,” I said. “The bathroom is right outside. If you need anything, grab it yourself. I might not wake up if you knock.”
“Wait,” she said. “You're going to bed now? It's barely after ten!”
Leaning in the doorway, I put the rim of the glass to my lips. “You want to stay up all night with me, sharing stories? I have more than enough of them.”
Her wince was brief, but it was there. “Forget it. I'll see you in the morning.”
Gesturing with the whiskey, I headed down the hall. Behind me, I heard the distinct sound of her door shutting.
No, I wasn't tired.
I was anything but tired.
Tonight, Marina had ambushed me, turning my life upside down in a single second. Worse, as much as I wanted to hate her, her soft body kept worming into my mind. Everything combined had left me wide awake.
There was only one way to soothe my rabid lust.
Closing myself in my room, I finished the drink and got out my gun.
****
My clock blinked.
Three in the morning, I noted silently.
I was sitting on my mattress, the Ruger polished and put away hours ago. I'd thought that would be enough, but when I was finished, I'd succumbed to my most basic need.
I'd polished my cock, too.
The whole time I jerked myself off, Marina filled my thoughts. I couldn't get her out of my skull, even if I'd wanted to. Exhausted, I'd flopped back on my sweat soaked pillow and simply... waited.
Now, it was time to act.
With precision, I slid to the floor. My bare feet carried me soundlessly to my door. I knew how to open it so it made the barest of 'clicks' in existence.
Straining in the hall, I listened for any signs of Marina being awake. Gingerly, I put my ear on the surface of the white wood of her door
.
If she wasn't asleep, she was pretending.
I tested the knob. She hadn't locked it. That actually surprised me. Marina knew who I was and what I was. Did she feel so confident that the idea of me sneaking into her room and killing her in her sleep hadn't crossed her mind?
Counting the seconds, I pushed the door until I could see inside.
Unlike her apartment, mine was quite warm. She wasn't used to that, and the swell of her hips was visible on top of her blankets. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, the window blinds closed, but leaking in remnants of the city.
For a full three minutes, I studied her. She's breathing in a pattern. I can hear her whistle through a slightly open mouth. I was sure Marina was actually asleep.
Tip-toeing further inside, I hovered over her body. Hair spilled around her shoulders, her soft skin visible in her tank-top. The shirt had ridden up to reveal the dip of her spine.
She was curled tight around a pillow, knees to her chest and hands tucked under her chin.
The way her chest swayed when she inhaled was hypnotizing. I could have stared for hours, but I had something pressing to take care of.
Looking down, I saw her purse. Jacob had checked her ID, and I had looked for weapons, but I'd also spotted something else that I wanted a better look at.
Crouching, I kept one eye on her sleeping face while peeling open the small bag. Dipping a hand in, I closed on her phone.
Even in the poor lighting, I could tell it was a cheap device. Turning it, I classified it as what it was: a pay by the minute burner phone.
Well, it was a burner phone to me. They went for twenty bucks and you didn't need a monthly plan, great for leaving no trace behind. You could just chuck them in the trash when you were done doing business on them.
I figured Marina chose it because of the cheap price. I'd seen her apartment, I knew poverty when it smacked me in the face; it and I were old friends.
Flipping the phone open, I began to scroll. She didn't even password protect it? For every clever thing Marina did, she shocked me with her naivety.
Pushing through her contact list, I realized why she hadn't bothered. She doesn't have a single saved number in here.