Objective: (Bloodlines Book 2) (18 page)

“I wasn't supposed to fall for you. You were supposed to be a job,” he says low into my ear. “Your life isn't the only one that’s been turned upside down,
Mags.” I shiver as his breath washes over my neck. “I’d never forgive myself if I let something happen to you, not now. I had a life, a wife even, until a year ago.” I’m shocked at his admission to me. His fingers trail up and down my arm as he continues to speak quietly. “When you took off, I had to follow. The more I watched you, and yes, I watched you, the more I became determined to break through your walls. I fell in love with you long before you ever let me touch you, Magnolia. It tore my marriage apart, it’s put my job in jeopardy…I’d have to give up last night with you to change anything and I’m not capable of that. There is nothing the world could offer me to make me give up that moment.” His lips hit my shoulder and caress me.

“Bentley, stop,” I murmur. “Too much, too fast. Please. I need time to process all this.” He backs away from me, wounded.

“Okay. I’m still going to watch you, but okay, Magnolia. Do what you need to do. But know this: I can offer WITSEC. Keep you safe.”

“And start all over again alone? Lose you and everyone here and still know Ezra’s out there? No. I'm a big girl, Bentley. I've been taking care of myself long before you rode into town on your white horse,” I snort and stand. I don't know what's real or who I can trust. I feel like I'm drowning. If he's not who I thought he was how do I know if anyone’s safe? My world feels like it’s closing in too fast. I feel myself sway slightly and before I can steady myself Bentley’s arms steady me.

“Lay down, just rest, okay? I’ll leave, and check in later yeah?” he offers. I nod, feeling too weak to do anything else and let him guide me back to bed. He tucks me in and kisses me sweetly on the forehead before turning to leave.

“Your shirt…” I chirp to his back.

“Looks better on you anyways, Princess,” he calls over his shoulder and keeps right on going until I hear the door shut. I smile inwardly, and rest my eyes. I just need to figure this all out somehow.

“When are you coming home?” I asked, missing him already. It’s almost as if I need a dose of him every few hours just to feel alive. I’m irritated that Ezra called him away when we’d had plans and that Cane just gave in and went.

“Soon, sweetheart,” he cooed.

“When’s soon, Cane?” I asked tentatively.

“Just…soon, baby girl, I’ll be there soon.” He exhaled into the line. I said alright and hung up. His response pissed me off. When he’s vague like that it means he’s running an errand for Ezra and I desperately want him to realize that he’s better than that life and stop for good. I thought by now he’d be finished and I’m aggravated. I tossed the phone on the countertop and paced around the living room trying to blow off steam. The knock on the door jarred me from my thoughts. Maybe Cane had just been playing with me. I rushed to the door with a shit-eating grin on my face and swung it open. Ezra. My stomach sunk and my face fell.

“Aww, buck up, buttercup, I’m not that bad,” he said playfully. He stepped through the threshold, brushing past me and stopped in the living room. Something was off. Something more than normal. His eyes looked funny. His pupils were large, making his eyes look black in color, and he was fidgeting. He looked, crazed.

“What do you want, Ezra?” I asked politely.

“Where’s Cane?” he responded.

“Wouldn’t you know?” I asked, barely containing my irritation at his blatant disregard for our lives and for Cane’s wanting to make something of himself.

“He’s not back yet then…” he said while running his hand through his short hair repeatedly. I shook my head to confirm his statement and leaned against the countertop with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Well, looks like we’ll have to entertain each other until he returns then, yeah?” His face twisted into something resembling a smile but more...sinister.

“I’ll have him call you when he gets in. You know he doesn’t like us here alone.” These had been Cane’s firm words for Ezra for this exact situation. I feel anything but firm and in control though. He leered at me like I was a piece of meat. I knew his bark was worse than his bite but he seemed out of it tonight. His face twisted and his smile was no longer present as he started towards me.

“You think you run the roost, eh?”

“I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“I can have you if I want you, Cypress,” he spit out.

“Ezra, leave.” I pointed to the door and prayed my hand not to shake. He laughed at my request and closed the remaining distance between us. Pushing my extended arm down he ran his hands from my shoulders down to my fingertips and kept a hold of my hands.

“My turn,” he spit and my heart froze in my chest. With a tug I’m chest to chest with him and he had my hand pinned at my rear. He leaned his head down to me and started to lick from my collarbone up to my ear. “Ezra...” I begged. “Please, please stop.
Don't.” He paused momentarily and I sucked in a deep shuddering breath. I choked on my tears. “Please, stop…”

“No. I don't think I will,” he whispered in my ear, and that was when I knew I was screwed. I stomped on his instep with my heel and twisted out of his grip. He stumbled marginally but I gained no real distance. He licked his lips and lunged for me. A scream ripped from my lungs as he tackled me to the ground. All the breath was knocked out of me from the weight of him landing on top of me. He flipped me to my back. I clawed at his arms and torso but he didn't seem to feel pain. Tears streamed down my face. This cannot be happening. I will not let this happen. I will not. A hand reared back before connecting with my cheekbone. The sick sound of the slap made me scream out again. I tasted blood in my mouth and swallowed thickly to keep the bile in my throat from rising up. He placed his palms on my breasts and squeezed cruelly before he leaned down to my face. I mustered all my courage and spit in his mouth just before it touched me. I was kicking my legs and twisting my hips furiously to break free but he was so large I couldn’t shake him loose. He sat up and wiped his mouth. “Wrong move, sugar,” he ground out. His black eyes shone with hate or maybe it was jealousy. Either way I needed to think fast. But I wasn’t
 fast enough. His fist connected with my temple, sending white hot pain radiating through my body, and everything faded to black.

I was on my stomach and being jostled
 strangely. I blinked a few times to get my bearings. A smack to my ass cracked through the air over his grunting. Ezra. He finished roughly and smacked my rear again. “Too bad I had to take you unconscious, sugar. Bet you’re a wild ride.” He breathed into my ear. There was pain in my head and rib cage. His words sent me over the edge and I lost my stomach all over the mattress. With a disgusted grunt he removed himself from me and walked to the bathroom. I heard the water running and I knew I should move. I should do something. Anything, but I was paralyzed. I’m dirty. I felt vulgar and tainted. A feeling rose in my chest as I listened to him whistle while he cleaned up in my bathroom, in my house. It was a feeling I had never felt before, a combination of rage, hate, and evil. I slithered to the edge of the bed and fished around the nightstand drawer for the handgun that resided there. I had only shot it twice, for practice. It was heavier than I remembered and very cold. “Maybe I’m just weaker,” I’d thought. I swung my legs over the bed and pushed up. The room rotated left, then right, and I sat back down, breathing rapidly. The sink turned off and I heard him walk out of the bathroom. “Till next time!” he shouted as he passed the open bedroom door. Something in me snapped. I shoved off the bed, gun in hand and followed him to the living room.

“Ezra,” I called, “wait.” He turned around and although I was the one with the gun he didn’t look the least bit affected by the situation. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. My rage amplified at his nonchalance. I lifted the gun with shaking hands and took aim. I stared wildly at the man in front of me, unable to focus on anything else. My heart
 hammered in my chest. This was a monster, the kind that haunts children’s nightmares. The monster that ruined me, that hurt me. The monster that violated me in ways I never dreamed of. I heard the sound of the gun’s safety releasing, the exhale of breath. My hands trembled uncontrollably and then, the deafening sound of a bullet ripped through the air. The gun bucked in my hand, hard. It startled me from my trance. I closed my eyes and flinched before opening them and letting everything come into focus slowly. Cane crumpled to the ground, his hand clutching at his chest. Everything moved in slow motion as red started to seep through his shirt and onto his hand. Where did he come from? Why was he hurt? Why was Ezra standing, mouth agape, staring at me?

A gut-wrenching howl ripped from me as I watched the color start to drain from Cane’s handsome face, his haunted eyes never leaving mine. Adrenaline had slaughtered my body and I didn't know what to do. What had I done? I couldn’t breathe, it felt like my chest was being squeezed with a vice grip. Ezra crouched down, wide-eyed, next to Cane. He murmured something in his ear but all I took in were Cane’s eyes staring into mine, full of hurt and confusion. The gun dropped from my hand onto the hardwood floor. It made a loud clatter as it hit. Cane’s eyes, those beautiful amber-colored eyes, fluttered closed. “NO!” I shrieked. My heart stopped beating and my breath left me altogether. This couldn’t be. I stood motionless, listening, waiting. His beautiful caramel skin looked ashen. He was gone. His eyes were still closed. My beautiful love was gone. How did this happen? My hands were clenched into fists at my sides and my fingernails were digging into my palms painfully. My entire body was shaking so much I don’t know how I was still standing. Grief flooded my chest as the coppery smell of blood and gun smoke filled my nostrils. Panic kept me rooted in my spot. This wasn’t real. What had I done to him?

I wake up struggling for air and clutching my throat, and then a loud bang draws my attention to the monitors. Bentley is outside trying to ram down the door. I stumble out of bed shouting that I’m fine and open the door just as he’s gearing up to try and shoulder it open. He flies through the doorway and luckily I side step just enough that he doesn't hit me, but he does plow into the countertop. I can’t help but laugh - I know it hurt - but as he shakes it off I can see blood seeping through his shirt at his shoulder.

“Shit, you’re really hurt,” I squawk and open the cabinet over the sink for my Band-Aid stash.

“And you aren't,” he grumbles.

“Why would you think that I was?” I ask opening a Band-Aid.

“You were screaming bloody
murder, Mags, like, blood-curdling screams.” He shudders, unbuttoning his shirt enough to reveal his shoulder and I wipe away the blood with a clean rag before applying the Band-Aid.

“It was a dream. I’m fine,” I explain. He covers my hand at the Band-Aid with his large rough palm and gently squeezes.

“Did you have time to think? Cause I’d really like to get to the part where we talk about the fact that we had really amazing sex.” He grins up at me, looking so handsome.

“I didn’t. I took a nap. I’ll call you, okay?” He releases my hand as his face falls. “I work tonight, too. So, I’ll see you later?” He nods, stands and pulls me into a tight bear hug.

“Please, Mags, try to understand,” he whispers into my hair before letting me go. I want to tell him that I do understand. How could I not? I’ve lied to everyone I know here so how can I possibly hold that against him? I don’t say anything though. Our relationship started in silence and it seems apropos to feel that silence once again. Look what happened when we started talking. Shit hit the proverbial fan and now we’re in some strange place that I’m not sure how to recover from.

Bentley leaves and for the next three hours I’m alone with my thoughts while I shower and get ready for my shift. I’m not due to leave for another hour so I indulge in two fingers of bourbon before work. I open the door and plop down in the Adirondack chair to enjoy the fresh air while I drink.

I set my glass down on the arm when a box resting on the arm of the empty chair next to me catches my eye. It’s a jeweler’s ring box, small, velvet and square. My hands tremble mildly as I lift the lid and a stunning solitaire engagement ring rests inside. Bentley has lost his marbles if he thinks this is okay.

A small corner of paper peeks
 from the lining of the lid. I pull it out.
Brown’s Jewelers
. I know that name. It’s familiar to me but I can’t place it. The ring was expensive and below the astronomical price is the date. Thirteen months and four days ago. Three days before I shot him. The address on it local to Cane and my old apartment. Impossible. Could this be true? Was he going to propose? My heart seizes as I pull the ring from the box and inspect it further. It’s absolutely one that I would have picked for myself. The evening light catches the inside of the band.

Baby girl, If there's anyone I could love, it's you
.

There are no words for the pain that pierces my heart as I make out the inscription. I’m stunned and mad as hell. This kind of warfare is beyond cruel and I wasn’t prepared for Ezra to be any crueler than I had experienced firsthand. My world is unravelling as I stare at the box with the beautiful ring in it. I snap the lid closed on the box and hurl it across the yard while letting out a shrill scream. My world is imploding and I can’t see an exit strategy. In a fit of grief and rage I swipe the glass from the arm of the chair with the back of my
hand, sending it shattering to the ground. I stand up and kick the chair over. I can’t take the mind games. “If you want me just take me!” I scream before storming into the trailer.