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

All that lovely girl had to do was say yes.

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

Marina

––––––––

I
n 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.

I took one look at him and noticed the swelling on his nose. “Holy shit, what happened to you?” I gasped.

The boys shared a look. I knew that fucking look. “I was boxing,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “The bag got away from me, slammed into my nose. I'm fine.”

Jacob's lips were smiling, but it didn't touch his eyes. A
bag
hit him? It was an insulting fib. “It looks like someone decked you,” I said.

He hesitated, then did that thing he was so good at—caressing my body with his stare. “No. Nobody punched me.”

Damn. He was making me shift side to side. Jacob with his heated eyes and his I'm-pretending-to-casually-lick-my-lips-but-you-know-I'm-doing-it-so-you-can-imagine-it-on-your-cunt-smile. What a mouthful of a title. Now
I
wanted to punch him.

“Anyway,” Kite said, swooping in to stop me from debating further. Sitting on the arm of the couch beside me, he was my own personal watch dog. “I think Jacob is here because he has something to say.”

“
You found him?
” I gasped, instantly jumping to what I hoped this was going to be about.

Jacob's frown was brief. He hid it quickly. “Unfortunately, no. I came by because Kite and I were discussing something fun for us to all do together.”

My brain ran with erotic images. I shook myself sharply, but the visions lingered. “What kind of something?”

Lifting his fingers, Jacob emulated the shape of a gun. It had my heart stuttering. Picturing him holding a weapon would never go down smoothly. “How does paintball sound?”

“Paintball?” I repeated him, making sure I'd heard him right. They both smiled, waiting expectantly for me to... what? Clap and cheer? “I've never done it before. Will it help me in my training?”

Kite scoffed, his hand coming down to trace my shoulder. It felt wonderful. “Of course it will. Also, it's super fun. You'll love it.”

“I'm imagining you two shooting me over and over,” I mumbled. “That's how it works, right? Tiny, hard balls of paint slamming into me by guys who have way more practice aiming at a moving target?”

“Practice, that's the word to focus on,” Jacob said.

“Also fun,” Kite added. He was stroking down my arm idly. It was relaxing me. “It'll be good to get outside and run around.”

I couldn't resist their charm. Sighing dramatically, I let my smile take over. “If it really can help me get better at shooting, I'm all for it. Sitting here definitely isn't doing much.”

Really, if we weren't going to actively hunt my target down, and they weren't going to take me to the shooting range to put holes in paper cut-outs, paintball sounded okay. Possibly fun, as Kite kept repeating.
Fun,
I mused to myself.
Right. That word again.
The party last night, it had freaked me out when I was shopping and prepping because it felt like I didn't deserve something so entertaining.

If these hitmen said paintball could up my abilities, then I would listen. It wasn't about fun. It was about progress.

Purpose.

Though, I still worried that the two of them were about to destroy me in the game ahead. I'd never played paintball, and my gun experience was pretty small. Hunting and stalking? I was lacking there, too.

Kite and Jacob were skilled killers. But surely...
surely
paintball would be treated differently. They had a gigantic advantage, but with all their claims about fun and practice...

How bad could this really be?

****

T
hey drove us to a forested area not far from the shed Kite had taken me too. This wasn't a professional range. This was me and them, alone in the woods. It had all the ingredients for a horror movie. If they planned to kill me, now would be a good time for it.

The bravado and acceptance that usually kept my fears at bay... it didn't show its face. Not this time. It was disconcerting, the idea of them taking me out here just to end my life. I didn't believe they would kill me before finishing the job I'd given them, but that wasn't why I was upset. I was nervous because I didn't
want
to die anymore. Not ever. And not from them.

This was that dumb, wiggly thing they had grown in me. The desire for life, for a future—it was new and it was terrifying.

The car slowed to a halt on a path. “Here we are,” Jacob said, cutting the engine. We all climbed free, my sneakers crunching on dead leaves. March was coming, but it didn't feel like it. Peeking around, I saw nothing but trees and brush. A barren land, all to ourselves.