For the Bond (Romantic Suspense) (Beyond Blood, #3) (7 page)

I didn't know what to do. Was she really arguing that I was a good person? “And Culver? You don't know what he did or didn't do.”

She held her gaze steady. “You do, though. Was he a saint?”

My head moved, shaking side to side. I couldn't stop it. I wanted to deny everything she was reaching for. “Not from what I saw. But that changes nothing.”

“For me, it changes a lot. Some people... they're better off dead.” I swear, she was trying to pour her strength
into
me. She was as determined as Jacob to open my eyes. Marina believed what she was saying, just as Jacob had so long ago.

I wanted to believed it, too.

Sliding my arm back, I tried to escape. Her other hand closed on my forearm, forcing me still. Confused, I let her lift my hand. Marina was peering at my knuckles. “Jacob wouldn't tell me what these meant. The whole 'swim' thing.”

“He's good at keeping secrets,” I said softly.

“The other day, I won the paintball contest.” Her lashes were a fringe, but they didn't hide the determination in her black pupils. “I said I'd pick what I wanted later. Well, I want you to tell me what these mean.”

The edges of my frown couldn't have gone deeper. “That's what you want?” I'd expected her to ask for something... bigger. Bolder.

My silence gave my thoughts away. Marina smiled, soft and tender. “You already told me, you can't promise what I want from you guys. Nothing has changed, asking for my life to be spared would be a waste.”

Fucking hell. I was ready to grab her face and scream. I'd declare to Marina and the world that if we could only be certain she'd never be our downfall... that of course I'd promise her safety. I was burning to promise her
anything.
And I fucking couldn't.

“I'm right, aren't I?” she asked bluntly.

Looking to the side briefly, I nodded. “Yes.”

“Then tell me.” Holding my hand in hers, she curled my fingers into a fist. One by one, she gently tapped each of the letters on my knuckles. “What does this mean?”

This wasn't much better than her asking about my past. I could control what I said, feed her enough to satisfy her. I just... really loathed thinking about this shit.
Stick to the basics.
“I got the tattoo when I was thirteen.”

“
Thirteen?
” she laughed, acting like she didn't believe me. I arched an eyebrow, watched her let my hand go. “Who would tattoo a thirteen-year old?”

“The wrong people will do anything for a favor.” I wasn't going to tell her
that
favor. “Anyway, you wanted to know what they meant, not how I got them.” Waiting for her to nod, I pressed on. “The phrase means... fuck, how do I explain this?” So much of the meaning was tied to my history. To that god damn day and what Jacob and I had done.

Shaking myself, I fought down the wave of sickness. My childhood memories could die in a sewer. I wished they would. “Think of life like—like land. Sturdy ground.” Marina titled her head, locks of hair tumbling down her shoulders. I didn't want her to interrupt me. “Most people stand on this ground. Then there are... others. People who get pulled into the river.”

“The river?” Her doubt was strong. I didn't care. She wanted to understand but she
could not
understand. All Marina could do was listen, and my single option was to talk.

“This river is dark, and strong. It will drown you if you stay in it.” Breathing in sharply, I stared at my open palms. “It's a bad place for shitty people. But it's exciting, too. You're stuck in it, wondering if you'll make it to the other side or if you'll drop to the bottom and drown. And all you can do—the only option you'll ever have—is to swim.” In the pale light, my tattoos hurt my own eyes. “You swim, or you die. If you're lucky... you'll get to the other side.”

Freedom. God, Jacob... please be right. Let us have some peace.

My eyes bounced up, found her perplexed face.

Please don't let her be our anchor.

Marina leaned away, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “I don't understand. Why are you swimming? Why is that important to you?”

“Because it reminds me who I am... and what I am.” I'd had my skin inked when I was in a bad place. Those early days on the street were rough. Jacob and I did everything we could to stay alive. The bad crowd was our inevitable fate. Stealing, fighting, struggling. Even then, that life had been better than what I'd abandoned. I'd known the river way before we took our first contract.

The loud buzzing of my phone startled me. Marina flinched, too. Her eyes locked on my phone as I yanked it out. I saw Jacob's name a second before I heard him speak. “Hey,” he said, cheerful and smooth. “Where are you?”

Glancing at the girl across from me, I turned in my chair. “Just getting some coffee, what's up?”

“Is she with you?”

My heart skipped. “Yes.”

He breathed out, the sound crackling in my ear. “Kite, I need you to listen very carefully.”

Shutting my eyes, I showed my back to Marina and nodded to the air. Jacob was talking, a low rumble of a thundercloud. Tension built between my shoulder blades.

True to my word, I listened carefully to every word that slid into my skull. It was good that I was looking away from Marina. The last thing I wanted was for her to see my expression. She must have noticed the tightness in my body, though. I was imitating a cinder block.

Hidden from the world, my heart was a roiling sea.

Marina

––––––––

K
ite was hunched away from me. Everything in his body language said this conversation was important. Secret. Lifting his head, he made a tiny sound of surprise. “The Calloway Club? Seriously?” Twisting, he stared at me from the corner of an eye. His lips moved, mouthing the words, 'I'll be right back.'

Not taking his coat, he slid out the front door with the bell jingling after him. The cafe window showed me what he was doing; pacing, talking intensely on his phone. I was positive it was Jacob who'd called. My neck hairs were prickling already. What the hell was going on?

I'd wanted to ask more about his tattoos. The explanation had been too intricate, a little poetic if you asked me. Poetic and Kite didn't go together in my brain.
One of these things is not like the other...

The door swung open. Kite power-walked back to me, shoving his phone into his jeans. He was positively sexy in his haphazard outfit, the guy could have worn a garbage bag and looked amazing somehow. Though, currently, the tight line of his mouth and frantic movement of his eyes wasn't super appealing. “What happened?” I asked, the instant he was within reach.

“I need you to stay here.” Grabbing his coat, he slid it on quickly. “Actually, go back home. Just stay there, okay?”

He towered over me, doing that thing where he tried to will me with his stare. Pushing my chair back so violently it screeched, I faced him down. “I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what that was all about? It was Jacob, wasn't it?”

Kite took a tiny inhale. I saw his brain working. “Marina, please. I'll tell you what's going on, but
only
if you promise me you will just go home.”

Home. I loved that he called it that. It hurt, too, a needle in my gut. “Fine. If it's—”

“No, Marina.” Kite was quicksilver, gripping my shoulders and bending so we were eye to eye. Nothing but severe darkness coiled in his stare. “I'm not joking. I
will tell you
, but you have to promise me. Okay? Is that clear?”

Holy shit, he wasn't playing. I thought of Kite as lighthearted, but right then, he was as frightening and unmoving as Jacob had ever been. The gravity of the situation made me lower my voice. Nerves forced my eyes to resist blinking. “Okay. Yeah, it's clear. I promise I'll go back to the apartment. Tell me what's happening.”

He didn't let go of me. It was like, if he turned away, he thought I'd just dissipate into the sweet-smelling air. “We found him.”

My knees buckled. Kite scooped under my arms to keep me on my feet. “You—what? You guys really found him?”

“Jacob did. Shit, you need to sit down.”

“No. I'm alright.” Commanding my spine to stop buckling, I rolled my shoulders back and impersonated all the powerful people I knew of. I had to be strong. This was it. “You're not kidding. This isn't like the charity ball, then.”

His head jostled, brief and brisk. “It's real. Jacob is there, and I need to go meet him. Go back home, Marina.”

All of my skin had turned clammy. I didn't feel my own body. “I have to come.”

“You promised,” he growled. The severity of his reaction startled me. But didn't he understand? How could I just turn and walk away? “Marina. You. Can. Not. Come. I need to leave, now, before Jacob gets in any danger. You have to listen to me. This is for your benefit.” Tipping my chin up, the fire became feathers and his tone was almost... sad. “Please go home. I need you to do this for me. For us.”

It was the most unfair thing he'd asked of me. My nod was a single movement, hair waving and tickling my throat. “I understand.” Air filled my lungs. “Don't kill him. Reconnaissance, that's the plan. Right?”

Letting me go, he took a step backwards. “Your safety is the plan.”

His words were romantic, protective. All I heard was 'we might kill him to protect you.' The possibility was filling me with panic. Leveling my voice was a challenge. “Please be careful. Both of you.”

Kite didn't look back at me after that. The speed that took him out of the cafe was unnatural. A man on a mission.

But that mission belonged to me.

I was putting the pieces together. He was lying, and it could only be about one thing. Jacob and Kite... they were going to kill my target. They'd promised him to me, and they were going to do it anyway. Did he have his gun? It didn't matter. Jacob surely had a way to do this, or he would have told Kite to go get a weapon.

Were they really ending this to protect me? I didn't know their reason, just that they were betraying me. How could he expect me to keep this promise? They were going to steal my revenge. Even if their intent was good, this was
mine.
I deserved it. God, I fucking deserved the right.

Cece.
Just thinking her name was fueling me. These men I had fallen for before I could recognize the signs and resist, they couldn't take my purpose away. I needed to be the one to look that murderer in the eye and pull the trigger. That belonged entirely to me. To my family.

Kite had left me there, expecting me to return home. He was too fast, stalking him was impossible. I didn't need to, though. I already knew where he was going. He'd let it slip when he was talking to Jacob. My brain had imprinted the name.

The Calloway Club.

Grabbing my jacket, I punched my arms through the sleeves mid-run out the door. I didn't like breaking promises. But Kite would understand. He just had to.

Jacob

––––––––

“H
ow did it go?” I tapped the side of my bluetooth, wandering through the busy bar. I spent a lot of my time in drink-holes, it seemed; my business or elsewhere. The Calloway Club was funny. Bright and grimy at once, not too disgusting. But what kind of club opened before eight at night?

They'd painted the windows black. It made it
feel
like it was late, no sun getting in. All shadows and flickering lights over an almost empty floor. It was the perfect place for someone to hide out.

Kite's voice beeped through the tiny device. “Fine. She won't show.”

“You're sure?”

“Fucking—yes. I'm sure. She promised me.”

More than anything, I wanted him to be right. Wandering the place, I surveyed out of habit. There was no danger here, it was a simple business in a mildly bad part of the city. I had no expectation that Lars would appear.

Laying a trap wasn't fair. However, it was better than passing judgement on Marina full-stop. Kite's job had been to lay into her that she
could not
come here. It didn't matter if we were going to kill Lars or just follow him, she had to believe that this was a big deal. Otherwise, her promise would have been simple to make and keep.

I needed her to choose between her revenge... and us. If we were second-fiddle, then the fact was she could betray us any day. Now, or the future—a future I glorified and had started to dream about.

Being able to touch her every day, wake up and know I could kiss her soft lips, was a luxury I ached to make real. Everything relied on her. Trust. It came down to a promise made in a coffee shop. I hadn't even been there, but Kite believed she meant her word.

All that was left to do was wait. Migrating, I moved to the wide bar and sat in the middle. I had a direct line of sight with the entrance. Settling in, I linked my fingers in my lap and counted the seconds. The movement to my left told me a bartender was rushing around. Something to take the edge off sounded good.

I was half-way through turning, ready to speak to whoever could get me a glass. “Shit,” Kite hissed in my ear.

Dreading what I already knew I would see, I turned towards the door. In her dark jacket and plain jeans, Marina should have blended into the crowd. To me, with my heart crushing under a wave of defeat and my eyes straining to make this into a mirage... I couldn't have missed her.

Marina had failed the test.

Her head shifted, finding me across the room. The flicker of relief she glowed with smothered me. I wasn't angry. This went further, shattered me in the bottom of my soul. I was fucking heartbroken.

I'd promised Kite a chance. There was a fiercely protective part of me—a savior that had only ever shielded my best friend—and it had swelled at the idea of saving this girl. Marina was everything I wanted, perhaps even needed.

She couldn't be trusted. Her fate was locked.

God, I wanted to jump off of a cliff. She was coming my way, uncertainty turning her onyx eyes glossy. Without looking to my left, where the bar-tender's shadow was in my peripheral, I lifted a hand and spoke. “Whiskey, clean. Make it a double.” A cliff wasn't in my near future. A drunken escape would have to do.