Never Kiss a Bad Boy (29 page)

Knowing where Kite hid all this was a serious advantage. One I needed to keep to myself.

The weight of the gun was decadent. Sliding my fingers down the barrel, I recalled how it had exploded in my grip the night I'd first fired it.

Kite had chosen to share that moment with me.

Shutting everything back behind the panel, I buried my burst of guilt down.
They broke into your apartment,
I reminded myself. Somehow, that time felt so far away. Another world. Another life.

Had my opinion of these men really changed so much?

Fixing the bedroom, I smoothed the blankets and left the door open. I wanted to be as subtle as possible. If Kite knew that I had found his treasures, it meant he'd hide them on me again.

I didn't want to lose access to his secret stash.

I'd hardly settled on the couch in front of the television when the door jiggled. Turning, I held my breath—demanded that my heart go still as Kite entered.

His coat was open, showing off a green shirt that stretched over his broad chest. There was a hint of sweat in the hollow of his throat. Had he run here, why was he so frazzled?

Was he freaking out because of this morning? Hard screws of doubt burrowed into my lungs. If opening myself up to him about my nightmares had been too much, then I was a fool for agreeing to let him try and help.

Shit. I should have known better.

Kite faced me, and nothing in his wide grin and glittering eyes resembled regret. If I had to name it, that expression was glowing with hope.

“Marina,” he said, dropping his coat on the floor. He took two steps and somehow reached me. Had he flown through the damn air?

I started to say his name. He ended it on my lips, shutting me down with a kiss so fierce I forgot why I'd been worried.

Collapsing over me on the couch, he held my hair, gripped my cheeks, endlessly trying to touch all of me. He was frantic. Something
had
happened, but
what?

I let him nip my tongue, my eyes rolling back. I didn't want this to end. I didn't want
us
to end. His desperation was melting my bones.

Finally, I put my palms on his shoulders and shoved until he gave me an inch of space. Looking into his heated eyes had me close to crumbling again.

“What is it?” I gasped, tasting him and his salty flavor on my lips. He was coated in the raw musk of action. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he laughed, a lie so big it showed me his molars. “Everything is going to be fine, Marina.”

Blinking, I let my hands drift down his chest. His muscles rippled, his wink saying he'd flexed just so I would feel it. “You're acting strange.”

“You think so?” Gripping my hair, Kite tilted me until my scalp rubbed the back of the couch. “Of all the things that are strange in this life, Marina... what I want to do to you is as natural as breathing.” The rough edges of his teeth rode up my neck, capping my mouth and kissing me until my arms fell to my hips.

The knock on the door rattled my teeth.

Kite was slow to move, glancing over his shoulder with a partial frown. “Damn, that's Jacob.”

My chuckle was tense. “Are we going to get in trouble if he catches us doing this without him?” I straightened my clothes and fixed my hair. No one had explained the rules to this triad of ours. It wasn't a game that came with clear instructions.

Kite caressed my chin, kissing me through his own laughter. “You're already in trouble.” The weight of his body settled on me, molding me into the couch.

The knock came again, harder.

“Let him in,” I said, willing the breathy quality in my voice to vanish. Kite kissed like no man alive should be allowed to. “We shouldn't lock him outside.” I was actually eager to see Jacob. As intimidating as he was, he called to life a part of me that couldn't be smothered.

Puffing a great wall of air through his nose, Kite hopped off the couch. “Fine, fine. He'll smash my door down at this rate.” Gripping the brass knob, he twisted it—revealing Jacob on the threshold.

I took one look at him and noticed the swelling on his nose. “Holy shit, what happened to you?” I gasped.

The boys shared a look. I knew that fucking look.

“I was boxing,” Jacob said, shutting the door behind him. “The bag got away from me, slammed into my nose. I'm fine.”

He was smiling, but it didn't touch his eyes. A
bag
hit him? It was an insulting fib. “It looks like someone decked you,” I said.

He hesitated, then did that thing he was so good at: caressing my body with his stare. “No. Nobody punched me.”

Jacob watched me with heated eyes and his I'm-pretending-to-casually-lick-my-lips-but-you-know-I'm-doing-it-so-you-can-imagine-it-on-your-cunt-smile.

What a mouthful of a title.

Now
I
wanted to punch him.

“Anyway,” Kite said, swooping in to stop me from investigating further. Sitting on the arm of the couch beside me, he was my own personal watch dog. “I think Jacob is here because he has something to say.”

“
You found him?
” I gasped, instantly jumping to what I hoped this was going to be about.

Jacob's frown was brief. He hid it quickly. “Unfortunately, no. I came by because Kite and I were discussing something fun for us to all do together.”

My brain ran with erotic images. I shook myself sharply, but the visions lingered. “What kind of something?”

Lifting his fingers, Jacob emulated the shape of a gun. It had my heart stuttering. Picturing him holding a weapon would never go down smoothly. “How does paintball sound?”

“Paintball?” I repeated him, making sure I'd heard him right. They both smiled, waiting expectantly for me to... what? Clap and cheer? “I've never done it before. Will it help me get better at aiming a real gun?”

Kite scoffed, his hand coming down to trace my shoulder. It felt wonderful. “Of course it will. Also, it's super fun. You'll love it.”

“I'm imagining you two shooting me over and over,” I mumbled. “That's how it works, right? Tiny, hard balls of paint slamming into me by guys who have way more practice with a moving target?”

“Practice, that's the word to focus on,” Jacob said.

“Also fun,” Kite added. He was stroking down my arm idly. “It'll be good to get outside and run around.”

I couldn't resist their charm. Sighing dramatically, I let my smile take over. “I'm all for it. Sitting here is getting old, anyway.”

If these hitmen said paintball could up my abilities, then I would listen. It wasn't about fun. It was about progress.

Purpose.

Though, I still worried that the two of them were about to destroy me in the game ahead. I'd never played paintball, and my gun experience was pretty small. Kite and Jacob were skilled killers. But with all their claims about fun...

How bad could this really be?

****

T
hey drove us to a forested area not far from the shed Kite had taken me too.

This wasn't a professional range. This was me and them, alone in the woods. It had all the ingredients for a horror movie.

If they planned to kill me, now would be a good time for it.

It was disconcerting, the idea of them taking me out here just to end my life. I didn't believe they would kill me before finishing the job I'd given them, but that wasn't why I was upset.

I was nervous because I didn't
want
to die anymore.

Not ever. And not from them.

This was that dumb, wiggly thing they had grown in me. The desire for life, for a future—it was new and it was terrifying.

The car slowed to a halt on a path. “Here we are,” Jacob said, cutting the engine. We all climbed free, my sneakers crunching on dead leaves. March was coming, but it didn't feel like it.

Peeking around, I saw nothing but trees and brush. A barren land, all to ourselves.

“Here, come put this on.” Kite waved me over to the open trunk. Inside, I saw all the shiny gear and guns. The balls of paint looked like candy in their plastic cases.

Kite lifted a pair of goggles, helping me fit them on my head. When they were settled, he grinned and tapped me over the left eye. “The paintball guns are called 'markers.' Treat it like a real gun. Remember everything I taught you?”

“Definitely,” I said, holding out my hands. Lethal or not, I loved the idea of having some kind of weapon.

The 'marker' as he'd called it was big, but that was due to the tank of paint balls on top. Twisting it around, I tested the weight. My finger stayed away from the trigger; I really had committed everything Kite had shown me to memory.

“How bad is this going to hurt?” I asked.

Unzipping his jacket, Jacob set it in the trunk. The new one he slid into looked both smaller and more heavy duty. It was a mossy green color. “It will sting,” he said. “The goggles will keep your eyes intact. Otherwise, these won't do anything too terrible.”

Hands came down on my shoulders. “Do not,” Kite said, suddenly very serious, “Shoot me in the balls. Understand?”

That did it, I started giggling. Covering my mouth, I felt a flush of warmth over their teasing smiles. Maybe this really
was
going to be fun.

Hoisting the gun, I grinned. “Okay, tell me how this works.”

They took their time, explaining how to work the gun, and that each of us would get our own color of paint.

“If you get hit,” Jacob said, pushing lightly against my collar bone to mimic a flying ball. “We get one point. If you hit either of us, you get five points. We'll play to ten, that means you just have to hit us each once, or one of us twice.”

I swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat. Jacob hadn't removed his finger, I could feel its pressure through the jacket they had given me. “What are the points for?”

“To decide who wins.” His nail curved, dragging down my chest. Never too far, just enough to make my heart throb.

“But what does the winner get?” I asked warily.

Kite swayed into my vision, his handsome face sharp in its slyness. “Whatever they want.”

I had an idea what they wanted. The lust was shining in their eyes.

“It's all in fun,” Jacob said. His hand fell away, leaving a hollow itch where he'd been touching me. The cold air was a useful tool with them both around. “The threat of losing is just a motivator.”

“If I win, you'll really let me have anything?” I asked.

They were both adjusting their equipment, one mind shared by two different people. “Whatever your mind can conjure,” Jacob chuckled.

That was when I knew.
They don't think I have a chance at beating them
.

People like this, they didn't promise riches when it was obvious I'd ask for the moon. In a real wager, I would have demanded they promise—promise beyond a shadow of a doubt—that they would never hurt me.

Those skilled hands that made me moan, I didn't want them around my throat.

No bullets, no barrels, nothing. I didn't want to rely on my letter to keep them in check.

I wanted...

I wanted to trust them.

“You alright?” Jacob asked, his goggles hiding away the icy gaze I found so thrilling.

Lifting the gun, I nodded briskly. “I'm ready. Let's do this.”

We faced off in the middle of the clearing. Around us, the buzz of forest life was drowned out by my pumping blood. Jacob tapped his watch. “I'll count to five minutes. You should go and run, Marina. Hide from us. What you do after that is up to you.”

“You're giving me a head start?”

Kite was grinning, rocking from one foot to the next. “Sure. This is our handicap.”

I scrunched my forehead. “Isn't me only needing to hit you guys twice your handicap?”

Jacob's laugh was soft as velvet. “No, that's just us being fair.”

Remember,
I told myself.
They think this will be easy. I can see it in their smiles.
My finger brushed the trigger of my gun. I hated being underestimated. I was a realist, but smugness—justified or not—fueled my determination.

My voice was flat, as emotionless as I could get it. “Good luck, boys.” Turning, I sprinted into the bushes without looking back.

Slinking through a dark forest while they chased me down was a nightmare in the making. I hadn't been killing in secret for years. I didn't have tons of practice under my belt like they did. But it didn't matter what outcome they predicted.

I refused to go down easy.

****

L
eaning against the tree, I held the gun tight to my chest. Acid tore through my throat, my lungs. I kept seeing things move on the edges of my vision, shadows that played with me and taunted me. I wondered incessantly about where they were.

My jacket was heavy, it forced clammy sweat from my pores. The plastic of my goggles kept fogging up, I wiped the smudges away so I could see. How much time did I have left?

Peeking over my shoulder, I snuggled the rough tree bark and thought of my next move. If I was good at anything, it was hiding. I needed a place that would protect me from them, somewhere I could take aim and fire.

The pine trees were big, but unreliable. If I got too high up, I'd be trapped. Looking around, I checked my options; some boulders, lots of bushes, and a sloping hill on one side.

Heading towards the dipping ground, I got low and stretched on my belly. It wasn't perfect, but with the leaves and branches around me, I was hidden enough that they might not see me.

Breathing in tiny bursts, I stared fixedly off into the woods. My ears were on overdrive, trying to spot a single cracking twig. How sneaky were they? The idea of them prowling around in search of me was making my belly convulse.

Then again, was this so different from last night?

Together, they had hunted me down on the dance floor, attacked me with their seductive eyes and silky hands. I'd lost to them, though the results had been delicious.

I didn't want to lose again, not so quickly.

Movement; it was brief and in the distance. Every muscle knotted up in my body.

Crushing the gun, I stared at the area and watched for more. There, again, just a flicker, but reddish hair danced between the leaves. Kite was yards away, a rough shot to take.