Текст книги "Vicious secrets"

Автор книги: Morgan Bridges

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 36DELILAH

The bathroom door opens with a click, and Xavier steps out, his hair still damp. The black T-shirt fits him perfectly, the material clinging to his muscled chest and shoulders. His black cargo pants are loose and hang low on his hips, and the belt is cinched in place.

My mouth goes dry. It’s unfair how effortlessly attractive he is.

“See something you like, bride?” he asks, his lips twitching.

I lift my gaze to his and my cheeks heat. “Shut up.”

He stalks toward me, the amusement fading. In a blink, he’s in front of me, and I have no choice but to lean back. Xavier grabs the back of my head, his fingers threading in my hair.

“Careful, or I’ll fuck you goodbye instead of kiss you.”

“You said you wouldn’t rape me.”

“You can’t rape the willing.”

I gape at him. He chuckles and the sound vibrates through me, sending tingles up my spine. Then his mouth is on mine, his lips moving gently, as if he’s savoring me.

When he pulls back, I open my eyes, expecting to find him wearing his usual smug expression. Instead, he gazes down at me, his eyes swirling with desire.

Abruptly, he turns away from me, his movements deliberate as he begins to pack his belongings scattered around the room. A set of clothes, medical supplies, and weapons. A lot of them. Guns and knives of all shapes and sizes, plus ammunition.

Each item he places into his bag feels like a brick in the wall he’s building between us, a barrier made of silence and unanswered questions. As much as I want to know where he’s going and what a summons means, I don’t ask. Even if he did tell me, I’m not sure I could handle the truth.

Finally, he zips his bag closed and stands, his posture rigid. When he faces me, his face is covered in a mask. Not a physical one, but an emotional one void of everything except determination and focus.

“Let’s go,” he says. “Grab your stuff.”

He juts his chin at a table that sits in front of a window. I walk over and collect my jacket, my silver dress, and my shoes. After checking my phone, I return it to my coat pocket, resigning myself to dealing with the missed calls and texts from Raven when I’m caffeinated.

I follow Xavier into the hall. He stops just outside the door and presses several buttons before turning to look at me.

“Place your hand on the pad. It’ll scan your handprint and give you access to my room. That way, you can stay here while I’m gone. No one is allowed in there except you. Do you understand?”

With a nod, I do as he says. The keypad lights up, going from yellow to green. Xavier looks at me and takes my hand.

“That’s it?” I ask.

“Yes.”

He starts walking and I follow quietly. When we arrive at another door further down the corridor, he stops. I stare at the massive piece of wood, waiting for him to open it. He doesn’t. After knocking, he steps back and waits.

Declan appears a few seconds later. He rubs his eyes and says, “Why are you awake this fucking early? Shouldn’t you be in bed with your bride?” He catches sight of me behind Xavier and exhales. “What do you need?”

“I’ve been summoned,” Xavier says.

The other recruit’s eyes widen. “Fuck. Already?”

Xavier nods. “Dear old dad isn’t happy with me.”

“The vow.”

“The vow,” Xavier repeats with a nod. “My bride needs a guardian while I’m gone. I don’t want the other recruits thinking she’s fair game.”

Declan shakes his head with a grin. “Only a stupid motherfucker would go after her. I, for one, like my balls right where they are.”

“That’s why I’m asking you to watch after her.”

“How long?”

Xavier shrugs. “I’ll be back in time for the ceremony tomorrow night.”

“Not bad.” Declan opens the door wider. “Get the fuck out of here. I’ll take care of her.”

Xavier reaches for me and grips my chin, lifting my head. The warmth from his touch makes my pulse quicken. Then he brushes his lips against mine, and I can’t help but lean into the kiss. It’s over too quickly.

“Behave yourself, Delilah.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure thing, daddy.”

His gaze darkens, and a muscle ticks along his jaw. “Say it again.”

Declan coughs, clearing his throat. “Jesus. Leave before you fuck her in the hallway.”

Xavier ignores him, his eyes on me. “Say my name.”

“Daddy Donovan.”

Declan grins. “She’s fucking perfect for you, man.”

Xavier’s lips twitch before he smiles at me. It’s devastating, taking my heartbeat and repositioning it inside my pussy. It pulses with need. Damn it.

He winks at me, and then he’s gone.

I wish I was completely happy to see him go.

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Chapter 37DELILAH

Declan gives me a once-over. “June’s inside.”

I nod and follow him through the door. It’s another bedroom similar to Xavier’s. My friend is sitting on the bed, her head resting against the wall, a vacant expression covering her face. She blinks when she sees me.

I rush to her. “June.”

“Delilah.” Her voice is rough and low, a harsh whisper that sends goosebumps across my skin.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods, but the movement is slow, the gesture hesitant. I throw my stuff on the comforter and sit beside her. We both lean against the wall, her studying me in silence.

June’s gaze darts to Declan and returns to me, suspicion filling her eyes. “Why are you here?”

The recruit’s stare drills in a hole in my skull from where he stands. I catch his eye, note the subtle shake of his head, and nod in acknowledgement.

“Xavier had to leave,” I say. “He thought it’d be good for us to hang out while he’s gone.”

June frowns. “He left you here? Just like that?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” she says, elongating the word.

She makes a face at me and I smile at her in encouragement. This is the first time I’ve caught a glimpse of June’s former self. I want to believe that Declan hasn’t done anything traumatic to her, aside from the bride ritual, but this situation is fucked up in ways I couldn’t imagine.

I may not trust Xavier completely, but he is intent on keeping me safe. And he trusts Declan. Xavier wouldn’t have left me with this guy if he were going to hurt me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She waves a hand in dismissal. “I’m just having a hard time wrapping my mind around this... contract.” She leans over to grab a stack of papers from a nightstand. “Did you read this thing? It’s iron-clad. We are fucked.”

I nod, keeping my thoughts to myself. There’s no need to remind June that it doesn’t matter if the contract is solid or not. The Order and its powerful members would’ve found a way to keep us under their thumb.

“So what do you want to do?” I ask, trying to change the subject. “I could really use some coffee.” I look down at the wedding dress, full of dirt and grass stains. “And a change of clothes. Holy shit. Raven.”

“She’s been blowing up your phone too?”

I nod, biting my lip.

June tilts her head. “What is it?”

“I haven’t answered her cause I don’t know what to say.”

“Not a fucking word,” Declan says. His voice is low, but the threat in his tone is loud.

“Of course not.” I scoff. “What do you think I’m going to say? ‘Hey, Raven, I know you think I signed up for some extracurricular activities to help my grades, but I’m really under a contract to be the sex slave of some guy. But don’t worry, he’s hot.’” I roll my eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

He narrows his. “Never said you were. Just don’t fuck around because you will find out. The Order would replace you like that.” He snaps his fingers, and I flinch.

“I have no doubt,” I say.

June grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Come on, let’s go. On the way to the dorm, we can come up with a story to tell Raven. The juicier you make it, the more likely she is to believe it.”

I groan. “If I tell her I hooked up with Xavier, she’ll ask for details.”

“Didn’t you?” June asks.

“Did you?” I jerk my chin in Declan’s direction.

Her cheeks turn pink. “He’s my ex. It’s not the same.”

I snort. “Bullshit.”

Declan watches our exchange, his eyes bright with interest.

“Can we go now?” I ask.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“You’re coming with us?”

“You aren’t leaving without me.”

“Okay, boss.” I stand and stretch, my muscles sore. Who knew running for your life would make you so tired?

“You should probably grab some clothes too,” Declan tells June. “Unless you want to stay in that dress?”

Her lips thin. “No, I’m ready to get out of this.”

He jerks his head toward the door. “Come on.”

Declan takes the lead, and I bring up the rear. When he reaches for her hand, she lets him. I’m not sure what to think about the contact, especially when June shoots me a furtive glance and blushes. In the end, my opinion doesn’t matter. I have my own problems to deal with.

I sigh. June’s still the same, and yet, so different around Declan. Maybe she’s right about him being her ex, and things aren’t weird between them. Wish I could say the same about me and Xavier. I have no idea what the fuck is going on, other than he thinks I belong to him.

“Where is everyone?” I ask as we descend the grand staircase. The empty foyer greets us with silence.

“Classes,” Declan says.

I scrunch my face. “But the university doesn’t have any scheduled on Saturdays.”

“These classes have nothing to do with the university.”

“Then what are they?”

“That’s privileged information, bride.”

He doesn’t provide any additional details, and I refrain from probing further. It’s not like he’d tell me anyway.

Once we’re outside, my spirits lift. The sun is shining, and the temperature is pleasant. It almost makes me forget what a shitshow my life has become. Almost.

“So, back to X,” June says. “Tell me what you’re going to say to Raven. And make it good.”

I groan. “Why?”

“Because she knows you. You need something that’ll make her understand why you aren’t returning her calls. Or text messages. Or emails. She’s probably lost her shit, you know?”

“Fine.” I blow out a breath. “What the hell am I supposed to say?”

“I’d start by telling her that you hooked up with the guy, and he has a huge dick.”

“Oh my God.”

Declan snorts, and June smacks his chest. He looks down at her and lifts a brow. When she narrows her eyes, his smirk widens.

“I hate both of you,” I say. They ignore me and I roll my eyes, walking faster to keep up, settling next to June. “Any other suggestions that have nothing to do with size, girth, or dicks in general?”

June hums and taps her chin. “Well, I’d also say something about getting lost in the moment, and maybe a few references to his tongue.”

I choke and sputter, unable to form words. Images of Xavier’s face between my thighs fills my mind. His hands on me, his mouth, his words, the way his eyes held mine as he told me to come. My body’s reaction is instant. Heat rises, painting my skin in a flush, desire thrumming through my veins.

“Well, well, well,” June says.

I blink, focusing on her. “Well, what?”

“Huge dick or not, X has gotten under your skirt.” She tilts her head. “And definitely under your skin.”

“What? No. What?”

“I was watching you just now. You looked like you were a thousand miles away. A girl doesn’t get that expression on her face unless a guy is doing it for her. Big time.” June shakes her head at me. “Looks like you have your story ready to go. I can’t wait to hear it.”

I glare at her. “What are you planning on telling her?”

“About Declan and me?” She shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Why not?

“There’s nothing to say. Besides, I’m not sure how to describe our relationship. Or whatever the fuck is happening.” She bites her lip and looks at the recruit. He shakes his head, and she scowls at him.

“June,” he warns.

“Whatever.” She shrugs and looks at me. “I’m going to tell Raven that Declan and I are back together. It’s the simplest explanation, and it’s closest to the truth. The best lies are.”

Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be lying when I tell my roommate about Xavier and how much I enjoyed what he did to me.

“You fucking slut!”

Raven’s shriek has my ears ringing. She grabs me for a hug and squeezes me until I’m gasping for breath.

“Guilty,” I wheeze.

“I was worried about you,” she says, finally letting go. “When you didn’t come home last night and didn’t respond to my calls or texts⁠—”

“Or emails,” June supplies with a grin.

Raven nods. “Or emails, I thought something had happened to you.”

“X happened to her,” June says.

She waggles her brows, and I glare at her. It lacks any heat. Because it’s all in my cheeks. Talking about Xavier and I in bed, even briefly, has caused permanent damage to my skin.

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up. “How are you going to sit there and act like you’re not breaking girl code by getting back with Declan? I thought you hated him?”

“Hate-fucking is the best.” June shrugs. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“And how many times did he fuck you before you forgave him for being a dick?” Raven asks.

“Apparently, a lot,” I mutter.

“Hey!”

“Where’s the lie?” Raven throws up her hands. “You ran off to do something for a class and came back the next morning with a story about getting back together. Yeah, okay.”

“Whatever,” June says. “After I shower and change, do you want to come with us to get coffee?”

“Or alcohol,” I mutter.

Raven purses her lips. “Only if we go to Brewed Awakenings. I need the good shit.”

“The kind that might stop your heart?” I ask.

“Bingo.”

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Chapter 38XAVIER

Leaving Delilah with another man, even one I trust, is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. If defying the Order’s summons wouldn’t put our lives in danger, I’d do it. But I can’t risk my little raptor.

No matter how much it pains me to leave her.

I briefly run my fingers over the scar she gave me, as well as the tattoo I commissioned shortly after meeting her. It doesn’t soothe me as much as touching Delilah, but this is a part of me that’s dedicated to her. And only her.

After exiting the castle, I make my way to the garage. That’s an understatement, but simple words often are. The place is more than a garage; it’s a shrine to automotive excellence, guarded by the latest security tech. Around me, the air buzzes with the potential of each machine, their gleaming exteriors promising adrenaline and escape. It’s a clear reminder of the Order’s wealth and power.

I take a set of keys from a hook and climb into a Range Rover, tossing my bag onto the passenger’s seat. The interior’s scent is fresh and the leather clean, everything in order, unlike the chaos brewing within me. As I settle behind the wheel, I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting back to Delilah, to the look on her face when I kissed her goodbye.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she didn’t want me to leave. And not just to keep her safe.

I push that notion aside and pull the summons from my pocket. The paper is neatly folded, the black color representative of the crow I will become after the Trials.

Then the next step in my plan begins.

After unfolding the thick parchment, I smooth it out. The message is written in code, a series of symbols and numbers that would appear nonsensical to anyone not versed in our type of communication. It’s a language taught to recruits during the first three years of training, ingrained so deeply that by the time we receive our first summons, we can read it as easily as our native tongue.

This code is a safeguard against prying eyes. Our allies are few, but our enemies are many. It’s why we stick together.

As I reread the message, the reality of the task ahead crystalizes, making my objective clear. The Order has commanded me to act with secrecy and urgency, which is the standard. I know without a doubt that this mission is nothing more than my father trying to reestablish his dominion over me. Something he hasn’t had since he stabbed me and I returned the favor.

The coded words provide a location, a time, the name of the target, and my objective. But between the lines is a message all of its own. The threat to myself and Delilah if I choose to ignore the call. Or don’t complete the task to their specifications.

I twist the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life, breaking the silence around me. I drive out of the garage, through the iron gates, and onto the main road that leads to the highway. As the landscape blurs past my window, I find my thoughts consumed with Delilah instead of the mission at hand.

The long drive gives me too much time to think, to brood over the complexities that have arisen from a woman with green eyes and a mouth that could drive a saint to curse. Or groan with pleasure.

I knew the moment I met her that my obsession would only grow. And it has. I didn’t know that it’d consume me until the mere thought of losing her makes me want to fucking die.

Every time I touch her, a thrill shoots down my spine. Every kiss makes me fucking hard until my balls ache. I wait with anticipation for every word that comes out of her smart mouth. Rumor has it girls refer to me like a narcotic, but she’s my drug of choice. And I’m a junkie that’s fucking desperate for my next fix.

I rid Delilah from my mind before I pull over to the side of the road and fuck myself while fantasizing about her.

With my mind clear, I focus on the upcoming task, the type of job I know well. Unlike most recruits, the Order summoned me before my senior year. I’m not sure if this was my father’s doing or if the council saw potential in me. Either way, I’ve spent the last two years hunting men and taking their lives.

Before meeting Delilah, I would’ve been eager to carry out my assignment, to prove myself to the powerful organization. However, the prospect no longer excites me. I’m more motivated to prove myself to her—to gain her trust and the unwavering loyalty she’s capable of giving—than I am to kill another spider in my father’s twisted web. I’m entangled in his weapons trafficking empire more than those that answer to him. I suppose I do too, just not in the same way.

My father’s influence has loomed over me my entire life, dictating my actions and shaping my future. I live for the day when my choices aren’t tied to furthering his legacy of violence and power. Maybe that day will never come, but it won’t matter once he’s dead.

Daylight gives way to night. My surroundings shift from the monotony of the highway to the more varied scenery of rural backroads. The target’s location isn’t far, but that’s after nearly twelve hours on the road, going over the speed limit. My grip on the steering wheel is steady and my resolve firmly in place.

The sooner I get this shit over with, the sooner I can return to Delilah.

As I near the dirt road leading to the abandoned steel factory, the night deepens, enveloping me in a veil of darkness that mirrors the one within me. The headlights illuminate a narrow path, but I cut them off. I can’t afford to be spotted, or it’ll fuck this entire thing.

Slowing the vehicle to a crawl, I drive under the cover of night, my irritation growing. Patience has never come naturally to me, but I’ve learned its value, especially when dealing with high-stakes situations. It doesn’t get any more critical than life or death.

When I finally catch sight of the abandoned building, I turn off the road, using the trees to conceal my vehicle. The engine of the SUV dies down to a whisper, and I’m left in the quiet, contemplating my next move. Before me, the steel factory stands like a relic of a bygone era, its metal skeleton rusted and windows shattered, bathed in moonlight.

I take a moment to survey the area, searching for any signs of movement belonging to a guard on duty. Finding no one, I retrieve my bag and unzip it, revealing my choice of firearms. One thing’s for sure: being the heir to an arms trafficking empire lends itself to providing you the best shit when it comes to weapons.

The familiar shape and weight of my favored pistol keeps my hands steady. I insert the clip, and the routine check that follows is more muscle memory than conscious thought. After that I secure my holster and place the gun there. Then I reach for another firearm that’s similar in power and accuracy. A pair of knives are secured to my ankles, hidden in my boots, in case I have to engage in close combat.

Always prepare for shit to go wrong, and you won’t get caught with your dick out when it does.

My target is called “The Broker,” known for his ability to arrange massive arms deals. This man has been orchestrating one for months, but without my father’s knowledge or approval. It’s a clandestine operation on a monumental scale, involving the exchange of high-caliber weaponry, possibly including unmanned aerial vehicles. My father loves technology infused weapons, but only if they’re under his command. If not, they’re a threat that must be eliminated.

I’m sure he’s thought of me in such terms more than once.

The Broker has managed to bring together rogue states and terrorist organizations as key players in this deal, offering them access to military capabilities previously out of their reach. This deal is a bold move that signifies a shift in loyalty and power. In the underworld of arms trafficking, structure and control is everything. If this man thinks he can dictate the terms and bypass my father’s power, then it’ll weaken his position.

This Broker is either stupidly brilliant or brilliantly stupid to challenge my father.

With my weapons in place, I exit the vehicle and secure my mask. The target doesn’t need to know my identity, just the identity of the one who sent me.

I make my way through the shadows, seamlessly blending in. My footsteps are muffed against the overgrown grassy floor, while I strain to pick up any noises, all my senses heightened by adrenaline. I inch closer to the side entrance, and the low murmur of masculine voices reaches me, a confirmation that my intel is solid.

A quick glance through the broken window reveals a vast space, a cathedral of industry. Rust clings to furnaces and cobwebs trail along the chains and hooks dangling lifelessly from the high ceiling. The air is thick with a metallic tang. Piles of scrap metal litter the ground, alongside tools and pieces of equipment, and possibly hazardous materials.

I head inside through a busted door, plastering myself to the wall while staying within the shadows provided by the machinery. In a control room stand three men, their heads bent over a table. Maps and documents are scattered across the wooden surface. The Broker jabs his finger on the papers, his scarred face twisting with a scowl. The two other men are of little consequence in this mission, but the guns on their hips make them important to my self-preservation.

I watch them through the grimy window, biding my time and refining my strategy. Three versus one basically guarantees a favorable outcome. Only when the number surpasses seven do I start to be concerned.

“Everything’s in place,” the Broker says. “The shipment will arrive by the Eastern dock.”

One of his men, a broad-shouldered guy with a beard, nods. “Security’s tight. We’ve paid off the right people, but there’s always a risk. What about the locals?”

The Broker waves a hand in dismissal. “Handled. They won’t interfere. Our focus is the delivery. Once it’s secure, we distribute as planned. This deal is bigger than anything we’ve done. It’s going to change everything.”

The other man, lean and squinty-eyed, cocks his head. “And the payment? It’s supposed to be a fuckton. How do you know we can trust these buyers?”

“The money’s the least of our worries.” The Broker straightens, a confident smile tilting his mouth. “They’re desperate for what we’re offering. Desperation makes for good business.”

With the element of surprise on my side, I step into the open doorway, both pistols raised. “Don’t fucking move.” My voice is steady, the command in my tone easily discernible behind my mask. “Toss your guns on the floor and kick them out of reach.”

The Broker and his guards reach for their weapons. Two of them remove the guns from their holsters or pockets and place them on the ground. The thicker bodyguard flicks his gaze to me a second before lifting his gun.

My warning shot echoes in the small space and my ears ring. I shake my head to clear it, my gaze never leaving the trio. The man groans and clutches his stomach, a red stain spreading quickly. His pistol clatters to the ground.

“Next time I’m aiming for your balls,” I say. “Now, let’s have a quick chat.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The Broker asks.

“Someone in need of information. Give it to me and live.” The lie flows easily from me. “If you refuse, then…” I shrug. “You get the idea.”

The Broker studies me as though trying to see past my mask. “What do you want to know?”

“The location of the exchange.”

The man scoffs. “After all these fucking months, you think I’m just going to hand it all over to some fucking stranger? You must be out of your mind.”

I nod. “Sometimes, I think that’s true.”

I shoot the broad-shouldered man again and he crumples to the floor. The remaining pair curse and jump back.

“Ah, ah,” I say, clicking my tongue. “That wasn’t very helpful. Let’s try this again. What’s the fucking location and time? And who’s the rep?”

The Broker’s lips thin. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You know what? I almost did on the way here,” I say. “You can’t threaten me with a good time.”

I aim at the other guard and squeeze the trigger. His body shudders before he faceplants on the floor.

The Broker’s face turns bright red, the veins in his neck bulging. “You motherfucker,” he grits out. “I’m not telling you shit.”

“You say that now, but after I hook you up to those chains out there,” I say, jutting my chin at the hooks suspended from the ceiling, “you’ll talk. I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of tools out there. It’s amazing what you can do with vises, clamps, and a power tool. If you think cutting through metal is easy, then imagine how it’ll tear through human bone.”

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