Walking out of that coffee shop and leaving Kael behind was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.
I bit my lip, tried to stop the tears threatening to flood down my face. I’d already had a glass of wine…or two. The minute I’d opened my door, the first thing I did was run to the kitchen.
It couldn’t be helped. I needed to forget. I needed something to staunch the bleeding of my heart. Only I wasn’t sure if the wine had helped or only made it flow harder.
I hurt. My heart hurt. My head hurt. I wanted to peel off my skin and become somebody else, at least until the pain subsided.
I stared at my closet, wondering what to do, where to go. I wanted to be someone or something else.
But most of all, I missed Kael. Missed the way he kissed me, missed the way he touched me. His passion, his aggression, the one thing I both hated and loved about him.
I stepped out of my clothes and gently touched my breasts, remembering the rough way he’d touched me and felt tears well in my eyes. My fingers trailed around my nipples and I thought of the way his teeth had tugged on the tender flesh there, painfully and pleasurably so.
A tingle of desire shot through my center and I closed my eyes, exhaled, reliving the artful way he’d brought me to unconsciousness.
Kael.
I opened my eyes. I could use another drink. I looked out my window. It was dusk, the sun almost set. Soon it would be dark, another hot and humid Carolina night. And I wanted to be lost in it, somebody else for the moment.
Not Rain Howard. Definitely not her. Because she was the woman who’d hooked up with a killer. She was the woman who had a best friend that lied to her face over and over again. She was the woman who’d lost the love of her life. Again.
For one night, I’d like to be a different sort of woman, one who didn’t give a damn about anybody or anything. The type of woman who only cared for her own pleasure. I didn’t want to be alone. Right now, I really wanted…company.
I thought of the way Kael had made love to me. Aggressively, passionately… I wanted to feel that way again, out of my head…overwhelmed by sensation, numb to the pain that throbbed in my heart.
Still naked, I lay on my bed and opened my laptop. Fingers flying over the keyboard, I searched and started Googling: breath play, spanking… A night of reckless abandon with a heavy-handed stranger would work. There had to be someplace I could go, a place to give me what I needed right now. I just wanted to forget everything. Forget Kael. Forget the love we’d lost. Forget myself.
I found a website, a place in Raleigh, in the warehouse district downtown. I clicked on the URL and a black-and-white picture developed in front of me. A pretty blonde wearing lingerie, stilettos and a gag across her mouth stared back at me.
The Crow. A private club for pretty people who like it rough. I began clicking through the website. Yeah, this would do fine.
A strong drink, dim lights and anonymity. For just one night, I wanted to forget everything and everybody.
It was late and the late dinner crowd lingered over coffee and dessert. I checked in with the hostess and asked to see the owner. I waited at the bar, gazing out the front window and noticed a white Porsche out front.
Had always loved a fast car.
The bartender laughed. “Must be nice, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s a great car.”
He pushed a bowl of popcorn toward me. “The boss gets the blonde girlfriend and the sports car.” He grinned. “One day.”
I gazed at the car. That was Luke’s car. I stood up for a closer look and memorized the license plate number. Habit.
A few moments later, the bartender led me to an office deep within the kitchen.
Luke looked up when I entered, a grim smile on his face and the phone to his ear. He pointed to a chair, spoke his thanks into the phone while I closed the door behind me.
“Bro?” He set the phone down. His American accent was perfect. New Jersey with an edge of street.
I shook my head. “Don’t bro me, Luke. What the fuck is going on?”
“Sorry, I was just ordering a delivery.” He loosened the olive green tie around the collar of his soft yellow shirt.
“You’re in deep shit, Kael. Somebody wants you dead. What are you doing about it besides mooning over your lost love?”
I took a deep breath. This again. “Why are you here, Luke? Why are you pretending to be an Italian restaurant owner? What’s the mission? Who is the assignment?”
He gave me a thoughtful look but didn’t speak.
“How could you be in the same city as me and not even let me know? We go way back.”
Amidst the stacks of paper covering his desk was a glass of white wine. He picked up the glass and held it up, a hint of a amusement on his lips. “Have you ever known me to drink wine, bro?”
He shook his head. “As Gian-Carlo, I had to start scarfing this stuff down. Not bad as far as alcohol goes. Finally figured out I can bear a heavy, super dry Cab. Or a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, like this one.” He took a sip. “Have one?”
I shook my head and waited.
“Do you think I could just stand by and wait for Il Morte to off you while you’re making googly eyes at everyone’s favorite beignet maker?”
“Don’t even say her name.”
“I get it. She’s beautiful. She’s sweet. And that body.” He held up his hand. “I don’t mean any disrespect, bro. Just saying, I get it, the obsession with her.”
“I’m not obsessed.”
“If it wasn’t for her, you’d have found Il Morte by now.” He took another sip of wine, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the taste. “As is, he’s found you.”
I leaned forward, getting pissed off with Luke’s riddles. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned back in his chair, wineglass in hand. “I’m Il Morte.”
“Stop shitting me, Luke.”
He shook his head, a slow smile appearing on his face. “You’re looking for a European right?”
He drained his glass and set it on his desk. “I became a naturalized American when I joined the Marines.” He grinned at me. “I speak French, Italian, Swiss, German and English, all flawlessly.”
I stared at him, still not used to seeing him with blue eyes. “You never mentioned it.”
He shrugged. “You never asked. To be fair, it never came up and I’ve always been pretty tight-lipped about my background.”
“I know you’ve got family in New Jersey.” I thought for a moment and drew a blank. That was all I knew. Everything else was present knowledge gained from spending time together in training and then on missions.
How was it possible that Luke was the guy I’d been looking for? Luke was the one tasked with killing me? The one who’d threatened Rain’s life? Would I have to kill the closest friend I’d ever had?
“Consider yourself lucky that you know that. That’s more than anyone else knows.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple. “And the restaurant?”
“A cover. But a clever one. I like good food, so it worked well.”
“Is Luke Winters even your real name?”
He inclined his head. “In a way. It’s the American version. My name is Luca. Luca d’Inverno. The light of winter.”
I thought about Charlotte, remembering the ways she looked at me with her arm wrapped around Luke. Like she had a prize. She was going to be angry when she found out Luke had been playing her the entire time.
And now I knew what it felt like to be lied to. I got why Rain didn’t want to be with me. It didn’t hurt any less, but at least I understood the depth of betrayal lies caused. I was hurt. I was fucking hurt to find out my best friend was Il Morte. And he wanted to kill the woman I loved.
“Why get involved with the roommate?”
“Access.” He looked pleased wi
th himself. “I knew you’d show up eventually. And I wanted to stay close in case somebody else was sent in to finish you off.”
“So,” I said sarcastically, “you’ve been protecting me?”
He nodded. “I’ve always had your back, bro. Just like you had mine in Salamiyah.”
I thought of that day three years ago, when we were riding horses through a small dusty town in Western Syria. It was about a hundred and five degrees and we were dressed like natives riding horseback through a small rural village.
Neither of us felt good about the meet, but we were tasked with making a deal with a traitor. He was a traitor to his people and a traitor to the US.
Assholes like that couldn’t be trusted with anything. And why The Group wanted to deal with this guy was beyond either my or Luke’s understanding. But we carried a leather bag full of American dollars with us, and if this guy played ball, he’d be richer than he ever dreamed.
We were supposed to be meeting a local man, a merchant who promised to introduce us to the local warlord who’d also conveniently been trained by the US, but all he did was lead us into an ambush.
I’d spotted the sniper posted on top of a minaret to our right immediately. He was aiming for Luke when I shot him. In fact, the first shot whistled by so close to Luke’s head that it knocked him off his horse, grazing his ear. The sniper didn’t get a second shot.
I’d yanked Luke up before he had time to hit the ground, swung him onto my horse and gave him the reins while I provided cover until we were out of danger.
Later that night, we returned, found the merchant and killed him for our troubles. And the warlord? He’d never been there in the first place.
“How did you become Il Morte?”
He stood, stretching his arms. “A few years back, I got bored.”
I laughed. “We’re all adrenaline junkies.”
He turned and looked at me. “Yeah, but I wanted more…killing. Getting the bad guys. Clearing the world of filth. I can’t get enough of it.” His eyes lit up. “You know the shit we’ve seen, the pure unadulterated evil that walks this planet.” His hands curled into fists. “The Group doesn’t go far enough.”
Well this was interesting. Maybe he felt like me after all. “So you’re disillusioned with the direction of The Group too?”
He laughed. “The world is a chessboard. All The Group is doing is moving the pieces around, exchanging one king for another. I want to take the kings and queens out permanently. I want to personally remove every single remnant of evil, make this world a better place. That’s why I’m here. That’s my purpose. To destroy evil.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Were you like this before The Group, before MARSOC?”
He laughed and sat on the edge of his desk, closer to me. “Am I freaking the boy scout out? I grew up a good Catholic boy, devout, studious. How could I not? My father used to be a priest before he fell in love with my mother and chose her over saving souls. Chose a woman over edifying the populace against evil.”
He sounded bitter. Bitter that his father chose his mother over God? My head was swimming. I stood up, ready to get out of the small space.
“You’re right, I could use a drink. How about we take this to the bar? Place should be cleared out by now.”
Nodding, he opened the door and we settled at the bar. He poured himself another glass of red and a Scotch neat for me. He left the bottles on the countertop.
Except for a couple in a corner drinking coffee and a few waitstaff stacking chairs on top of tables, we were alone.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I grew up with a deep knowledge of right and wrong. Despite my father’s sins, he was a good teacher and I received, of all things, a priest’s education. Philosophy, Latin, Greek, Gregorian chants, dogmatic and moral theology, Exegesis, Canon law, and church history, I know it all backwards and forwards.”
“So, you see yourself as an avenging angel of sorts?”
He gave me an Are you serious? look. “In order for me to believe in angels, I’d have to believe in God.”
Okay, now I was confused. “You don’t believe in God?”
“I believe in the existence of pure evil.”
I stared into my cup, swirled the gold liquid around before finishing it. “You can’t have one without the other, Luke. The universe doesn’t work that way.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.” He reached for a bowl of peanuts and placed them between us. “Another Scotch?”
I nodded and he pushed the bottle toward me. “Help yourself. Mi casa es su casa.”
I poured another drink, slammed it back and poured another while he watched me patiently.
“You know, you and I could make a great team. Traveling the world, stamping out evil,” he lifted an eyebrow, “if you could just get over your distraction.”
A frown crossed his face, but then he laughed. “My mother cheated on my father. When a boy’s mother is a whore, it screws him up. Everyone knows that. Psych 101.”
His mouth twisted. “After all my father’s sacrifices, the torment, the humiliation…she left him for another man, she left us both really. Of course, he couldn’t return to the church after his defilement. His love for her destroyed him. But that doesn’t have to happen to you, bro. Forget the girl and join me in my efforts to cleanse the world.”
He was serious, as serious as a heart attack. If he wasn’t talking about the woman I loved, I would’ve laughed. He sounded like a villain in a movie, inviting me to join him on the dark side. However, the severe expression on his face sent chills down my spine.
“Together we would be unstoppable.”
My head suddenly began to swim and when I looked at Luke, I saw two of him. “I’m already…unstoppable.” The words came out slowly and my tongue felt heavy in my mouth.
He patted me on my shoulder. “I know, bro. That’s why I slipped something in your drink.”
I blinked several times, trying to shake the cobwebs from my head.
Luke’s face hovered before me. “I took this job to save your life. I’ll tell The Falcon I killed you. I’ll even send him proof of death. Proof of somebody’s death, but don’t worry, it won’t be yours. He’s in prison for the rest of his life. He’ll never know the difference.”
Losing control of my body, I started to slump in my seat and he grabbed me by the arm, lifted me to my feet. “Come on. You can sleep this off in my office.”
Feet heavy as bags of cement, I allowed him to lead me back to the office. A deep sleep was about to overtake me. It swept over me like heavy waves of ocean water, and I was struggling to keep my head up.
“What about Rain?” I managed to finally say.
He sat me in his chair, propped my legs on his desk. “There we go, nice and comfy.”
“Rain,” I slurred, barely able to keep my head up or my eyes closed.
“Right. Her.” He looked lost in thought for a moment and then he nodded. “I’m going to kill her. You can thank me later, bro.”
Blackness descended like lights suddenly being switched off, then there was a sensation of nothingness, like floating in an abyss without a body. And then I lost consciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I walked around the empty restaurant, turning off lights and jiggling doors. I just slipped my best friend a roofie.
I didn’t want to do it. But it had to be done. Kael was one of the good guys and I couldn’t just sit on the sidelines and let him wash out.
I knew from the moment he set eyes on that girl that she’d be trouble for him. Women were only good for one thing and the sooner Kael figured that out, the better.
I’d done everything possible to help him. From warning him two years earlier in Jamaica, when I’d first taken the assignment as Il Morte. I knew that Rain would have to be taken out if she became more to him than a one
-night stand.
But Kael didn’t listen. Kael was hardheaded and now he’d learn. And when the lesson was over, like most challenges, he’d be stronger for it.
When I’d first heard there was a price on my best friend’s head, I knew I had to be the one to take it, otherwise some other mercenary—one with no scruples—would actually terminate Kael, while I would just pretend.
I’d dragged the assignment out as long as I could. Any longer and my reputation as an efficient killer-for-hire would suffer. I was hoping The Falcon would lose his taste for vengeance and end the contract, or maybe he’d die in prison but that had not happened.
So the only thing I could think of was to fake Kael’s death. Rain’s death, however would be very real. And once she was out of the way…I knew my friend, he’d never fall in love again. All he would have was his job and the pursuit of justice.
My overall goal was to make Il Morte a group of assassins who worked together to rid the planet of evil. Il Morte would not stand for one individual, it would be an organization of like-minded people who abhorred evil and believed outright extermination was the way to go.
Not diplomacy, not wars killing thousands of soldiers and Marines, just simple and efficient killing of the powers that be. That was my goal in life, my passion, my purpose. Not cooking and certainly not following the screwed-up dictates of The Group.
It all began with Rain’s death. I couldn’t wait to get started.
And Kael? He would be fine. I’d given him enough Rophenol to incapacitate him for a good eighteen hours and then he’d wake up feeling groggy with a headache. If I was lucky, he wouldn’t remember a thing, just that he’d had one drink too many.
I walked down Hargett Street, now crawling with college kids and late-night clubgoers. With Kael temporarily out of the way, I planned on slipping into her house on North Bloodworth Street and quietly snapping her neck then pushing her down the stairs for a nice uncomplicated cause of death.
Sitting in my white Panamera, I consulted my iPad, clicked on the map and zeroed in on Rain Howard’s location. My breath caught in my throat and something delicious slithered around my stomach. It was late, and I was surprised to see her tracker on the move.
Tell Me No Lies: The Black Orchid, Book 1 Page 33