For the Fight (Romantic Suspense) (Beyond Blood, #2) (15 page)

Cracking it, I found what I was searching for. Marina was facing away from me, sitting on the couch in front of the only light source she'd turned on—my television. The big flat-screen was flickering, the volume low. She was watching the news.

In her hands, she had a bowl of cereal. A mug was empty on the coffee table—I knew it had contained hot chocolate. How long had she been awake? She wasn't wearing that red dress anymore, she'd put on black stretch pants and a loose fitting white T-shirt.

In the glow of the TV, her tan skin was oddly blue.

She didn't hear me enter. I stood there, watching the back of her head, the way she would hold the spoon in her mouth for a long moment after each bite. The station she was watching was flashing through different things; the weather, current events, breaking coverage.

I was just closing the door when I heard the man on the screen talking about something that prickled with unease. He was discussing a body.

“—was found on the lower east side in an alley. Police say the body had been there for some time, but it has yet to be identified. So far, they haven't said if the death is suspicious.”

My eyes fixed on the TV. Marina hadn't stopped eating. Her body language told me she didn't think this news was important. I had other ideas. The corpse was certainly Hecko's, the man Jacob had told me he'd learned Lars's name from. Frank's nephew. Fucking hell.

It was fine. The news said it wasn't suspicious... yet. If Jacob was as confident as he seemed, then Hecko would look like an accidental death. An alcoholic who had choked on his own vomit.

Still, seeing the news talking about him made me nervous. Stepping forward, I put my foot down firmly—enough to make the floor squeak intentionally. She jumped, twisting with the spoon held up as a weapon. Her eyes were wide—beautiful. I loved how big they got when she was overwhelmed. Especially if I was the cause.

“Oh, Kite,” she said. “You scared me. I didn't hear you come in.” Turning back to the TV, she stirred her cereal.

Smiling, I sat on the arm of the couch closest to her. My hand wandered to the remote. “I didn't want to surprise you, sorry. When did you wake up?”

Her shrug was light. “I think an hour ago.”

Now that I was closer, I could see the wet edges of her hair. She'd taken a shower and eaten, she'd been awake longer than an hour. I had a pretty good idea what had woken her up. It was the same thing that I'd stumbled on, her first night here. I'd heard it yanking her from sleep, making her whimper in the early hours, on a few other nights as well.

“The nightmares you have,” I said gently, seeing her stiffen. “What are they about?”

Marina pushed the wet clumps around in her bowl. “I guess it's stupid to try and ask what you're talking about.” Her lips pursed. It was a bitter look, I wanted to kiss it away. “Have I woken you up a lot, am I that loud?”

“No,” I lied. “Just once or twice.”

She put the bowl aside, adjusting to face me. “When I was younger, I had to stay with an aunt of mine, after my family died. She didn't like me much, and I always suspected it was because I'd wake her up with my screaming.” Her dark eyes flashed away. “So, sorry if it's bad for you. It was always bad for everyone.”

My mind was churning, imagining this woman pulling anyone who dared to sleep near her out of their restful dreams with her sobs and whimpers. “You really aren't that loud. I only noticed because...”
Because I'd been so close, because I'd been listening. Fuck.
I couldn't say that. “It really got you in trouble?”

Marina stared at me, her smile fragile as a flower petal. “After my aunt passed on, I became a ward of the state. In the orphanage, the kids were always cruel. I mean, I understood—better now, but even then, I got it. Why they didn't like me. It made sense.”

My curiosity blossomed. “What about...”

“Boyfriends?” she teased, her intoxicating charm starting to show. “Yeah. I never keep them for long. It's been... a few years since I bothered. Gets hard, having someone dump you because they can't spend the night.”

I was shaking my head side to side. “You left last night because a nightmare woke you up? Why didn't I hear you, then? I was only a few feet across from you on Jacob's other couch.”

Guilt flooded her face. Marina shut her eyes, black lashes running over her smooth cheeks. “I woke up before they began. It was... okay. I got up after you two had fallen asleep. Probably around three, or something.” Blinking, she watched me from under her lifted eyebrows. She was so close, but she felt very far away. “I wanted to play it safe. I came down here and went to bed. The nightmares got me as usual, at six this time. So yeah, I've been awake for an hour
since then
. I didn't lie, not entirely.”

Shaking my head, I reached down and grabbed the remote. The news was still talking about the body—I clicked it off, ignored her brief frown. “The noises you make aren't that bad. Believe me. You don't need to leave like that, not if—”

“It happens again?” She had cut me off, a challenge on her tongue.

Swelling with determination, I sat beside her and pulled her into my arms. My lips sought out her cheek, her forehead. She wasn't expecting this, she was knotted up and stiff in. I didn't care, I hugged her even harder. “Yes,” I whispered. “
When
it happens again—what we did—I'm forbidding you from running away.”

Marina could have been a block of wood I was holding. “You'll start to hate me. If I keep waking you up with my stupid tears and sounds I can't control, you'll regret asking for this.”

“I'm not asking.” Gripping her chin, I made her look me in the eyes. “I'm telling. No more running. If you wake me up because of your nightmares, I'll just hold you like this... and we'll go back to sleep.” For emphasis, I squeezed her.

The laugh she let out was surprised—I adored it. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, her arms finally coming around to hold me. “I thought you were supposed to be some monstrous hitman.”

“I never called myself monstrous.” Kissing her, I brushed the side of her lip and smirked. “But I'm a hitman, sure. And I'm also someone who gets what he wants.”

She leaned away, her soft palms sliding into my hair, holding my jaw. “And what do you want?”

“Right now?” Pushing her into the cushions, I buried my nose in her shoulder. “I want you, Marina. I want you... and I want you to tell me what your nightmares are about.”

Under me, she shivered violently. “You really want to know?”

“Yes. Of course I do.”

Her chest flared, lungs holding a singe breath. “In my nightmares, I see that day. I see the men come inside. I relive it, over and over and over...” Trailing off, she dug her nails into my shoulder blades. Was she finding comfort in me? I didn't know how to feel about that—or about how proud it made me. “Then Cece, my sister, she—she looks at me. Right at me, through the wall grate. I know she can see me. And she knows I know. She looks me in the eye, all while that... that fucking
monster
... rapes her.”

Shards of cold metal swam into my veins. I'd known, on some level, I'd always known the rape in the news article hadn't been just about Marina's mother. This bastard—Lars Diani—he'd done
that
to a little girl?

The backs of my eyes ached.
Nine years old. That young.
Oh yes, I understood the hatred Marina had. I knew it better than most ever could.

Revenge. It was an old friend.

“Cece knew I would live,” she mumbled. “I believe it to my core. That day, she understood she was going to die, and that I had done nothing and would survive. I just watched her suffer.”

“Shh,” I hissed, clutching her against me. I wanted to crush the self-hate out of her. “You can't think that way.”

“I can,” she said flatly. There was a raw wetness in her voice, her rage keeping tears at bay. “It moves me forward. I see her every time I sleep, Kite. Almost every night, anyway... but she's there. Accusing me.” Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she hugged me so hard my spine cracked. “I'll hate myself until I kill that man. When that happens, I'll be free. I won't have this burden... I'll finish my purpose. I'm fighting to make this happen, Kite. Then the nightmares can end.”

Her purpose. Fuck, Marina was too similar to me. This burden she had would carry her into the grave. I was a hypocrite, thinking about how she would die on this path. It would only happen if I let her—if Jacob and I made it happen. We could save her, we could get her what she was chasing. Free her from the monsters in her head.

But if we did... it'd risk everything.

If I told her what she wanted to know—how to find Lars—she'd get what belonged to her.

Vengeance.

Jacob wouldn't allow it. He'd said to keep the man's name secret, to use it for leverage. Push Marina where we needed and then we'd be out of the fucking river.

Thinking of my tattoos, of why I'd gotten them, I screwed my eyes shut.

Fuck it. Fuck it all. I'd never said I was monstrous, but maybe I was. Maybe I really was.

“In my nightmares,” she whispered sullenly, “Cece still looks at me after she's dead. She's bloody, chopped up, but she looks right at me and says what
he
said to my dad.”

Obey, or be killed.
That was the message Lars had left her dad with before ending him. I couldn't take it. I couldn't tell her the truth, but keeping it from her was burning me up. I needed to know how to make this work. A plan that was so precise, it'd ensure she couldn't screw Jacob and me over in the future.

I cared about him more than anyone else—he was my god damn Blood Brother.

But what was Marina?

Where did this strange girl fall on my spectrum?

It was ripping my heart in two. I knew how she felt, knew exactly what she needed, and I could give it to her...

Like Jacob had for me.

That day, when we'd made our oath. My hand flexed, remembering.

“Kite,” she said softly.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you rocking me?”

Blinking, I realized I'd been holding her tight, swaying with her gently on the couch. It was ridiculous. What was wrong with me? I eased away, sitting up and helping her to straighten as well. “Marina, I promised I would help you find that murderer. I really will. You believe me, right?”

She searched my face, then slid her hand into mine. The sensation was a jolt of bliss. “I do. And... thank you. You've helped me so much. I never expected to have a guardian angel.”

Her smile sliced up my conscience. Fuck, that hurt. I was no guardian, and certainly no angel. Everything she thought I'd done for her... so far, it had all had a purpose. Most of it self-serving.

“I can't believe that guy tried to drug me last night,” she chuckled.

Prickles of sick shame washed down my back. “Yeah, what an asshole.” The man had done no such thing. I just—I hadn't been able to stand watching him flirt with her. It had taken everything in me not to crack him in the jaw. Killing him would have been going too far, but hurting him... that would have been a pleasure.

Instead, I'd settled for intervening. Marina didn't need to know the truth.

The lies were too many to count.

Sitting on the couch together, she snuggled against me in a way I never thought she would. It was comfortable, our hands linked. Just having her body touching mine was enough to rattle my senses.

I wanted this woman.

But did I want what was best for her?

Marina grabbed the remote, turning the TV back on. “Did you hear about the body they found?” she asked, reaching for her cereal—then stopping when she saw how ruined it was. “My old neighborhood still sucks, apparently.”

Unable to handle the idea of sitting there, pretending not to know who the unnamed corpse was, I just smiled. “Right. Hey, let's change it. Want to watch cartoons?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. I thought she might argue with me. There was doubt in her wickedly black eyes, a frown hovering on her lips. When she spoke, relief hit me so fast I nearly choked. “I thought you'd never ask.”

The TV changed, dancing mice and spinning cars and a number of images that I didn't even absorb. It was a juxtaposition, such happiness in front of us while my brain ran in circles with its horrible visions. Marina dead at the hands of Lars.

Marina dead... because of me.

All she wanted was revenge. To be able to end the life of a man who had no problem raping a child, of making her dad watch, of chopping them all to pieces and burning their business to the ground. Lars had ordered the hit on his old acquaintance, and he'd threatened Hecko into silence and would have no doubt have killed him if it had been convenient.

But were we any better?

This girl we were wrapped up in, hungering for more and more of, sharing and wondering if she would break with us pulling the strings... didn't we plan to ensure her death, because anything less was a risk—an inconvenience?

Marina should have known the truth. If she did, she would hate us both.

So instead of that... instead of telling her about Lars Diana... instead of risking
everything
we'd spent our lives building... I bit my tongue, and put on a cardboard smile.

Marina was oblivious. It was how it had to be.

No mistakes... no risks.

She couldn't know we held the key that would free her.

END of BOOK TWO

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A
USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora Flite loves to write dark romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!) Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she wants to share those stories with her audience.

Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially dirt, she's learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives her.

She's also, possibly, addicted to coffee and sushi.

Not at the same time, of course.