Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Miguel answers in low, clipped Spanish, meant for Kane’s ears only. Kane replies with one word—mentiroso. Liar. Followed by the words, “You test me, Uncle,” in English.
It’s a love/hate moment for me with Kane.
It’s just a plain surreal moment to watch the man I love act like the kingpin we both deny him to be while standing down the man who is the true kingpin, if only in name. Because right now, Kane’s decision not to draw his weapon sends a message. And that message is that Miguel is a pussy who doesn’t have the courage to shoot him, too weak to be feared.
His uncle says something to Kane in Spanish, and again, his tone is low and exclusive. Kane replies, in an equally hushed voice, after which they stare at one another, and only when Miguel lowers his weapon does Kane step backward. The two men stare at one another again, and then Miguel lifts his hand, motioning to the men. All weapons are lowered, and the men retreat, packing into the vehicles.
Kane remains focused on Miguel, and his attention might as well be a sniper weapon for its intensity. Seconds tick by, each a heavy thud echoing in an otherwise silent alleyway. Finally, Miguel breaks the connection and climbs into his vehicle. A few beats later, his SUV is leaving the alley.
There is what feels like a collective breath expelled by our group, as if everyone was waiting for an explosion that has now been avoided, at least for the moment. Kane doesn’t move, waiting for a full retreat. As if he expects more. As if we haven’t avoided the explosion at all.
Chapter Four
I tuck my knife in my bra and close the space between me and Kane, stepping in front of him, only to have him drag me to him, kiss me hard and fast but, oh, so thoroughly, which is ridiculously sexy until he demands, “What the hell was that, Lilah?”
Romance ended.
War started.
“I know what’s on the line, Kane. I wasn’t going to kill him. The fantasy was where it stopped.”
“If you would have gotten in that vehicle, he would have killed you.”
“You underestimate me.”
“You underestimate him because you see me control him. That wasn’t me controlling him, Lilah, or you wouldn’t have been in a back alley with guns pointed at you.”
I push out of his arms and when I would fight onward, a flashback of those photos of Kane sitting in the diner the killer left for me on that theater wall and all those dolls hanging from nooses delivers memories of how terrified I was for Kane. I couldn’t breathe until I saw him, until I knew he was alive and well. I freaked out, and I don’t freak out unless it ends with me stabbing someone. I am a fool for not reading what is really going on with Kane since his chopper crashed. He’s been freaking out since then, but doing it quietly and to himself, not loud and in my face, as I did him.
And I know why.
He crashed into the ocean and a sea of bad history. My mother died in a plane crash, and his mother died in a car accident. The only difference between the two was my mother’s crash was called an accident. His mother’s death was claimed by a cartel enemy. Kane is letting the past get in his head, letting himself believe history will repeat itself and that I’m the next victim.
I step into him and grab the lapels of his suit. “I’m not her.”
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?” he asks tightly. “You’re not her?”
“Your mother. I’m not going to die on you. I have the benefit of knowing what happened to both our parents. It’s my armor, Kane. I know to watch my back, and I don’t die easily.”
“Neither do I, Lilah, and with the same knowledge as armor, I still ended up in the middle of the ocean.”
In other words, I’m not wrong about where his head is at right now, or these past few weeks. But I never get the chance to say more. Obviously done with this conversation, he says, “We need to leave,” and lifts a hand, much like Miguel had. In apparent response, there’s a whistle somewhere behind me. Kit and Jay appear to our left, and almost instantly a black SUV races toward us and halts by our sides. “Let’s go,” Kane orders, catching my arm and attempting to haul me with him.
I plant my feet. “Because if I leave now, he won’t come at me again? Staying here and walking back into that party tells him that we don’t give two fucks about his nonsense. It’s the stronger move. It’s not like you not to make the stronger move, Kane.”
“Why do you always have to fight me, woman? His nonsense is not what I’m worried about, Lilah. He’s emboldened in a way Miguel is never emboldened. He’s working with someone else.”