Love Kills

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “There’s something I didn’t mention. It may be nothing.” She and Roger step closer to me. Her brow furrows, and her voice lowers. “I’ll just tell you, and you can figure out if it matters. Karen had cigarette burns on her fingers. It was as if she held the cigarette until it burned down and into her skin. Per her lungs and the Internet, she wasn’t a smoker.”

  It’s another message, and my eyes meet Roger’s and he says, “You still think this has nothing to do with me?” he challenges.

  I step to him. “Are you telling me you’re the killer, Roger?”

  “Do you think I’m the killer, Lilah?”

  “I think you’re an asshole, Roger. You know that was a threat. You know what he was telling me.”

  “Tell me. What was he telling you?”

  “Eventually, he’s going to kill the people close to me and then kill me.”

  “That’s right,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what he’s telling you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Roger’s a dick. He’s always been a dick. He will always be a dick.

  Lord help me, I’m the bitch version of him minus the ego. His fucking ego is literally going to be the death of him.

  “You’re right,” I say. “This is about you. What better way for him to prove that he’s better than me than by killing my mentor?”

  “Mentor and protégé,” he says. “That’s what you think this is about?”

  “Yes. Don’t be an asshole and a stubborn old fool,” I bite out. “Leave town before you end up dead.”

  “I’ve conquered too many killers to walk away now,” he says, arrogance radiating off of him. “I’m staying. I’m helping, whether you like it or not. He wants me to. He wants me to.”

  “And you yourself told me to never give them what they want.”

  “You’re what he wants,” he says. “Not me. Isn’t that what you keep saying? I’m not giving him what he wants. I’m giving him me.”

  “You’re a means to an end.”

  “I’m not leaving, Lilah.”

  “Then you better hope I work faster than him.” I turn and head for the stairwell.

  The minute the door is shut, I pull out my phone and dial Beth. She answers with, “Did you find her? Did you talk to Melanie? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Did you tell her the toxin’s name in the voicemail?”

  “No. No, I didn’t. I thought when she called—”

  “Then here is your story. You made a mistake. Samples got mixed up. You didn’t find the toxin. And don’t bring up the correct toxin. Don’t let anyone know that’s on our radar.”

  “Why? What is this, Lilah? You’re scaring me. What don’t I know?”

  “It’s what I don’t know that’s the issue. I don’t know who’s behind this yet,” I say, “but there’s a high probability, they’re in law enforcement. That means they could have access to the investigation. I don’t want whoever this is to know that we’re getting closer.”

  “You don’t trust Melanie?”

  “Not only do I not know her, but that facility where she’s working at is well-stocked with that chemical, or whatever the fuck it is, you identified. That means the killer could be close to her. It could be her. We don’t know.”

  “Melanie?”

  “I’m just telling you that we don’t know who did this, and I’m sure you know there were three more victims.”

  “Yes. I heard.”

  “Which proves my point,” I say. “Information travels in law enforcement circles. And I want to keep your name out of this. Just don’t tell anyone. No one. Say it, Beth.”

  “Okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Good. I need to go.”

  “Oh Lord, this is bad,” she groans. “You told me you were hanging up. You never tell me you’re hanging up. You’re trying to make me feel better. You. Lilah Love. Are trying to comfort me.”

  I’m not comforting her. I don’t do comfort. I hang up and text Zar: Leaving. Front door. Headed home.

  He can keep up or not. That’s on him. If he can’t, I don’t need him. If he can, he might be a resource. If he pulls a stunt like Jay, I might kill him myself.

  I exit the stairwell to the lobby, and I don’t pause. I don’t need another Roger encounter. Thank fuck, I’m outside in a few minutes flat, thunder rumbling above, threatening to drench me, but I push forward, turning right toward the apartment. I could, and probably should, take a car, but screw the rain. Screw Umbrella Man. Screw my father for getting us all waist-deep in shit. And right now, I need to think. I need to figure shit out. I need to catch this asshole, and I need to understand what I’m feeling, which is nothing. I am not worried about Roger. His meddling is irritating, yes, but I don’t fear him being hurt. My God, what is wrong with me? He’s my mentor. He did a lot to move my career forward, and I owe him, but I feel no fear for him. I feel no worry. I warned him. He’s the fool who won’t listen, and it pisses me off. That’s all I feel: pissed off. Since I stabbed that man, I’ve slowly felt those emotional chips flip off.

  The crowds push and shove, and I cut through to an alleyway that leads to another street I need to reach. I hope Umbrella Man is watching. Bring it. Bring it on. Fuck with me right now and lose. I walk with an even, calculated pace, waiting for my emotions to show themselves, willing them to show the fuck up. Halfway down the alleyway, it starts to freaking rain. A black SUV pulls in front of my path to exit. It stops there.

  Obviously, it’s waiting for me.

  I don’t stop walking. It could be Kane. It could be the monster I’m hunting. Let it be him. My hand settles on my weapon, and I walk faster, confrontation in the air. Anger burns through me. That’s one emotion that’s never wavered. It’s my friend. It’s the bitch I will happily call family because it doesn’t control me. I control it. And I’m in the mood to end this here and now. I draw nearer. The SUV idles in place. I charge right at the back door, and the window rolls down revealing Kane inside.

  “Don’t shoot me,” he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief, his gaze flicking to my hand on my weapon, before returning to my face. “Then you’ll have to sleep alone because I swear Lilah fucking Love, I’ll crawl out of the grave and kill any asshole who thinks he can replace me.” He pops the door open.

  “You asshole,” I growl, holstering my weapon and stepping into the opening he’s created for me. “Call me. Warn me. Stop stalking me.”

  “Get in, beautiful,” he orders, and the fact that his driver gets out of the vehicle, umbrella in hand, tells me he has something to say that couldn’t be said by phone.

  I get in and shut the door, intending to cuss him out, but as I shut myself inside and I turn to look at him, that’s not what happens. That bond between us mixes with the danger lighting up our lives right now, and the anger fades. “Why are you here?” I say.

  “It’s raining,” he says. “He likes the rain, and I love you. I’m here for you.”

  Just like that, emotions pierce my chest. He’s here for me. No one is ever here for me, but Kane. He’s worried about me. I’m worried about him. I’m gutted at the idea of Ghost killing him. Kane makes me feel. He keeps me human and all those “I needs” that went through my mind while walking are nothing. He’s the only real need there is for me.

  The next thing I know I’m climbing onto his lap, straddling him, pressing my hands to his face. “Lilah?”

  “Kane,” I whisper, my mouth lowering until I’m kissing him, proving to myself I’m right. I feel with this man. I’m human with this man. I am not a monster, too.

  A low sound escapes his throat, and his hand settles on the back of my head. He is all in, kissing the hell out of me, but he’s not in control. It’s me. I drive the passion, I demand more. I need Kane Mendez, and I don’t even care who or what he is. I’ve been wrong to act as if it does, as if that part of him is what drags me to hell. He’s the reason I’m not there yet.

  Rain begins to pound on the roof, and Kane catches my hair, pulli
ng my lips from his. “What is this, Lilah?”

  “Kiss me again.” I press my lips to his, and he does, he kisses me, but I also land on my back, with him leaning over me. “I know you,” he says, tearing his mouth from mine. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  He knows me. He does. And he thinks the badge belongs on my person. He thinks I’m a better person than I am. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he just believes it’s the badge and together that keeps us both human. Because he knows how close we both walk to hell.

  “Talk to me,” he orders.

  “After we fuck and I spend about two hours in Purgatory.”

  He leans in and kisses me. “After we fuck,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Before Purgatory.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He sits up, takes me with him, and then knocks on the window. The driver with his umbrella climbs inside. I leave the order of events as he’s stated them alone but not because I plan to bend to his will. Because right now, there is a dark clawing at my mind, that part of me that felt nothing with Roger, trying to push past everything Kane just made me feel, trying to talk to me. I refuse to listen.

  Kane catches my leg and holds me close, and that dark clawing eases, thank God. There’s something combustible about this man, this vehicle, and the rain. If only it didn’t feel like it was raining blood.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The ride is short and silent.

  The driver drops us at the door, where there are barriers and security set up, because, Jesus, there’s press everywhere. We enter the building to find Kit behind the desk, but he’s also got about ten people around him. Clearly, the tenants aren’t happy. I’m sure they expect the building management to assure them no one dies here. Some people have really unrealistic expectations.

  I, for one, just want out of the lobby and into the privacy of our apartment. Kane seems to feel the same way; his strides are as long as mine. We aren’t holding hands. We don’t do the hand holding thing in public. Okay, there are moments, but, right now, we’re both all about getting the fuck into the elevator and up to the seventeenth floor.

  We step into the car, and Kit is suddenly holding the door. He hands me a CD. “That’s the security footage for the building. I’ve watched it ten times. The sister, Katy, comes in and out of the building several times in forty-eight hours. No one else. I have thoughts on that I don’t want to say here where we’re on camera.” He backs up and lets the door shut.

  I shove the CD in my bag, and my mind goes where I think his did. Karen, our soap opera star, killed her sister and then left, only to be killed herself. But how would Umbrella Man make her kill her sister? Who would she want to save more than her sister? It makes no sense, and yet, it feels like that’s the only way this happened. Unless Karen didn’t think the drug would kill her. That has to be it.

  The car starts to move, and Kane glances over at me. He’s going where I’m going. I see it in his eyes. This building’s secure. Umbrella Man had to use the sister to kill the other sister in order to pull this off. We’re secure here, and that makes me think about why he’s not at work. He came for me to bring me back here. I’m back to the thought I forgot—the driver got out of the car. Kane came to protect me, I believe that, maybe, he just came to convince me to go home. But there was something else, something he wanted to say to me, something he thought would convince me to go home with him.

  Or, maybe it was just the fucking rain.

  We’re being conditioned to fear the rain.

  Even the fierce Kane Mendez.

  A few beats later, we exit the car, and after a brief walk, we step to our door, the door that was once ours and is now ours again. We live together, and I’m done, really done, with regrets. The agency can’t come at Kane forever. They’re after him now because he dared to sue them. Because he dared to back them off. I have thoughts on that, thoughts on how the agency clearly wants to use Kane, but for now, I set them aside. Kane’s opened the door, and I walk inside the foyer.

  I’m just entering the main apartment when the doorbell rings behind us. My cellphone rings as well, and the two of us share a frustrated look. We divide, him heading to the door and me heading further into the apartment, snaking my phone from my bag as I do, to find Tic Tac’s number. “What do you have for me?” I ask, heading up the stairs.

  “Your email is locked and loaded,” he says. “I’ve sent you a small library of documents, but I’ve included a summary of my findings and what I think you might want to look at first.” He covers the phone, but I hear. “This is my job. Don’t do this right now.”

  “Oh hell,” I say, dropping my bag on the floor by my nightstand and sitting down on the unmade bed, the storm darkening the room and forcing me to flip on the light. “I don’t care how hot your new boyfriend is, if he’s already bitching about your job, he’s gotta go. Because, you know, he’ll bitch and then cheat and blame your work. Then you’ll be crying. You won’t be able to do your job. Murphy will fire you. I’ll have to train someone new to work my way.”

  “Jesus, Lilah. Really?”

  “Just saving the world two people at a time. That’s you and me, Tic Tac.”

  “I’d hang up, but you’ll punish me in some Lilah Love way, and I also have more to say.”

  “More to say. Well, by all means, say more.”

  “Melanie Carmichael. She’s from a stable family, three siblings—two sisters who are both family doctors in Jersey. They’re in practice together. She was married for fifteen years, but her husband died of a heart attack. The interesting part is that her brother is a surgeon who works at NYC General. He donated to your father’s campaign. He also attended several campaign events with Pocher. Based on the guest lists, Houston and Roger have been at some of the same events.”

  And Roger was used to get me to the first crime scene. The minute I came back to New York and became a problem again, they decided to use my history with him, to pull me into this case and get rid of me. “I need a list of everyone who was at any event Roger was at.”

  “You got it. And Murphy wants you to call him.”

  “Murphy can call me if he needs me.” My phone beeps with a message. I glance at it.

  “It’s Murphy, right?” Tic Tac asks.

  “Yes, smartass.” I disconnect and make the call. “Director Murphy.”

  “The mayor called me.”

  “And?”

  “You tell me.”

  “It’s a familiar problem, a cloak and dagger situation.”

  “Them,” he says, and I know he means the Society.

  “Yes. Them. I’m handling it. I have resources. That’s why you hired me, right?” I’m talking about Kane.

  He knows, too. He doesn’t miss a beat. “I hired you for you, Lilah. But remember this. They are everywhere. One falls, another rises. Finesse. Fuck them, but with finesse. That’s all for now.” He hangs up.

  Kane enters the room, a large envelope in his hand. He crosses toward me, and I stand to face him. He stops in front of me and hands it to me. “What is it?”

  “The delivery that just came for me. Look inside.”

  I open it and eye three disposable phones. I glance up at him, the question I don’t ask in my eyes. “Was there a note?”

  “There doesn’t need to be a note. I put the word out that I wanted to reach Ghost. He expected it after last night, which is why he reacted quickly. This was his answer. He’ll call.”

  Ice radiates down my spine. “Ghost,” I repeat, that empty spot where I should keep all those emotions I do not, filling up. “What are you going to do?”

  “Give him a new job.”

  He means kill Pocher. “Murphy said when one falls, another rises. I know you know that or you would have done this before now.”

  “I’ve shown extreme restraint by not killing him thus far. It’s time everyone in the damn Society knows when one falls, another can fall.”

  “And if Ghost has an agreement with Pocher, too?”

  “Ghost know
s I’ll double any offer. Ghost knows I have his back. That’s why he saved you.”

  He has the back of an assassin. It’s one of those moments when I should be appalled, but I’m not. I toss the envelope on the bed and grab his tie, yanking him toward me. “I don’t trust him, Kane.”

  “You’ve said that. You’re going to have to trust me.”

  “Have to? I don’t fucking have to do anything.”

  “You don’t trust me, Lilah?”

  “Don’t twist the meaning of my words to justify your cavalier actions. To be clear, I trust you, but I think you forget that you’re human.”

  “I told you. I’ve got this.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  “I do. Let it go. Let me—”

  “Let me make this clear, Kane Mendez of the Mendez family, if you think the wrath of your family is bad, you don’t know me. If this goes wrong. If he kills you, I’ll live just to kill him. It’ll come down to him and me. Do you want it to come down to him and me?”

  His hands slide under my hair, and he drags me to him. “It will always come down to you and me, Lilah. Always.”

  His mouth closes down on mine, and if I wanted emotion, I have emotion. I have too many emotions. I can’t escape them. For right now, I don’t want to escape them. I’m angry at Kane. I’m afraid of him dying, and I don’t feel fear. And the only way I have to deal with those things is with him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  My anger is in my kiss, in the way I shove at his jacket. It’s in every movement that lands us naked and on the bed, but there is more to what I feel. There is unfamiliar desperation. I can’t touch him enough. I can’t get him inside me fast enough. When he finally is, I press him to the mattress, and I’m on top, wanting to bend him to my will like that is even possible with this man. I want to make him be rational. I want to make him stay, but some part of me can’t make that clawing sensation go away.

  Kane rolls me to my back and presses my hands to the mattress on either side of me. “Stop fucking kissing me like this is goodbye, woman. It’s never goodbye for us. Never again. Never, Lilah.”