27. Christian
CHRISTIAN
D id you have fun today?”
Mila peers at me over her shoulder as we climb the path up to the cottage, me carrying the bags of clothes we got her today. She’s got her shoes in her hand, her bare toes on display, and the moonlight dancing across her golden hair. The moon is high in the sky, thunder rumbling off the coast. It won’t be long until it starts to pour, which means we’ll spend the night inside. Me listening and her reading.
“I . . . did. I had the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” she smiles, and it does some shit to my chest. I’m starting to think she’s got a fucking telekinetic bond with the bullet still there. “Thank you for taking me off the island. And for getting me clothes. And for showing me the proper way to win that ring toss game.”
“What was your favorite part?”
Her cheeks flame and I know what she’s thinking. Can’t say I disagree with her.
“The cheese on a stick.”
Fucking gross.
“That it?”
“And . . . I think I have a new appreciation for the Ferris Wheel. Even though that was my first time on one.” She looks out over the water behind me. “Washington is beautiful.”
“It grows on you,” I murmur, shifting all the bags to one hand and slipping my fingers around hers. She lets me, and for once, she doesn’t shrink away from my touch.
“I’m sure it does,” she says softly, her bare toes padding along the cobbled stone path.
Something twists inside me. “Not sure?”
“I like it just fine, but . . . I mean, I haven’t exactly gotten to see much of it. Besides the island, of course.”
Guilt washes through me, but I push it back. I’m doing this to keep her safe. It’s not permanent.
“You said your brother texted you earlier. Is everything okay?”
Fuck.
“We’ve got some shit to work out,” I murmur, scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck.
“Sounds like most families.”
“Most days, I want to kill the fucker,” I grumble. “I know the feeling’s mutual.”
“Oh,” she says softly, falling silent as we near the front door.
“But . . .” I concede, tugging her hand until she comes to a stop on the steps. “My brother and sister are two of the three people in the world that mean the most to me.”
Her eyes widen, her lips parting on a silent breath when she stares up at me through thick lashes.
“And who’s the other?”
Reaching up, I brush my knuckles down the side of her face. “I’m not sure they exist anymore, but I’ll never stop searching for them.”
She’s silent, soft gray gaze searching mine, and in the dark, the words come easily. It’s easy to face the past when she can’t feel how hard my heart’s beating. When she can’t see the tightness of my jaw or know of the bitter acid burning the back of my throat when I think about that summer we spent wrapped in each other.
“How long are you going to hate me for leaving?” I ask quietly because I know there’s a part of both of us that can’t move past it. She probably feels that if I hadn’t left, she never would have been attacked.
Oddly enough, I can’t get the same thoughts out of my head.
“I . . .” she starts, only for the words to fall and her lips to clamp shut.
I told her once she can’t hide from me. I meant it more than she’ll ever understand.
“I think the real problem was I couldn’t hate you, even when you were breaking my heart,” she whispers, and everything falls silent. Fuck, even the waves quiet down. The air around us hums, and a volatile energy cackles between us.
“You were never meant to be mine, Mila. I took you. The world took back.”
Something passes through her gaze. A bitter resentment for my choosing to leave. She doesn’t know why I did it. She probably never will, but in her eyes, I didn’t fight for her. I abandoned her at a time when she probably needed me most.
Even if I never left her side.
“It’s not like it matters anymore, right,” she says, turning to step inside, but at the last second, something like panic rushes through my veins, and I drop the bags, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her back.
I step into her, pressing her back against the door and looming over her. Her hands rest on my abs, sending heat straight to my cock.
“Go on,” I murmur, my nose sliding up the smooth column of her neck. “Tell me you hate me, Mila.”
I know she wants to. She wants to tell me she wishes I would have stayed gone. How much she despises me for leaving.
She can’t, though. It would just be another lie between us.
“Tell me I’m worthless and that you never want to see me again.”
Her breath hitches, her fingers fist in the material of my shirt, and my abs flex underneath her hands.
“Tell me not to kiss you,” I breathe, heart fucking pounding in my throat.
My lips hover over hers, the air between us humming with electricity. Every nerve ending begs for me to kiss her. I never thought I could get so fucking wrapped up in the way another person’s lips feel against mine until I’d been denied kissing Mila Carpenter.
“Touch me,” she whispers in the darkness surrounding us. “Please.”
A groan rumbles through my chest, vibrating against her fingers, and she sucks in a shaky breath when I bend down, gently pressing my lips to the side of her throat instead of her mouth. I suck the flesh, nipping the racing of her pulse like I can punish her for denying me her lips. She rolls her hips into mine, grinding into my hard cock nestled against her stomach. “Tell me what you need,” I rasp, against her throat, nipping and sucking a line down to her collarbone.
“You,” she breathes, and I smile wickedly while my thumb toys with one of the buttons on her dress. My fingers brush over the skin below her ass, and there’s a brief and shining moment where I have her in the palm of my hand.
“Do you need me here?” I ask, my hand slipping over her stomach and up to toy with her nipples through her dress and bra. Her eyes clench shut, a shaky breath leaving her lips at the friction.
She shakes her head.
“How about here?” I taunt, moving lower until my fingers brush over her inner thigh, and she shakes her head again. “Going to have to use your words, little devil.”
“Please don’t make me say it . . .” she whispers, her cheeks flaming, and I can’t help but smirk.
“You won’t get what you want unless you tell me, sweetheart.”
She closes her eyes, pushing out a soft breath between her lips. When she finally opens them again and turns those pretty eyes on me in the moonlight . . . fuck.
“Will you fuck me?”
It’s unconfident, full of nerves and self-consciousness, but there’s a determination in her gaze.
It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
And then a throat clears behind us.
I’m reaching for my gun when Mila jumps, letting out a soft squeak. Only the moment I turn, ready to shoot whoever the fuck thought they could come out to our fucking island, I’m met with a gaze that mirrors my own.
Levi Cross smirks, his gaze pinned on mine despite the gun I have aimed at his head.
I can’t lie and say I’m not still thinking about using it.
Fucker interrupted me.
His lips pull into a grin, his gaze flicking from mine to Mila and back.
“Hello, brother.”
“Mila, go inside.”
She doesn’t move, frozen between me and the side of the cottage.
“Hello, Mila,” Levi smirks, holding out his hand. I have half a mind to shoot it off. “I’m Levi Cross. Christian’s charming, slightly more handsome younger brother.”
“ Mila ,” I repeat through gritted teeth, my eyes never leaving my brother. “Go inside.”
Slowly, I can feel her pull away from me, releasing my shirt where her hand was twisted in the material, holding onto me. I listen to the sounds of her footsteps, then the door shut behind me. Then, I lower my gun.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Levi shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, smirking.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
“Doesn’t explain why the fuck you’re here.”
“You weren’t returning my calls.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
I nod towards the lighthouse and he chuckles under his breath, stalking towards the door. I unlock it, pushing it open and let him inside before I shut it behind us.
“Upstairs.”
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” he taunts. “I heard the whole coastal vibe is making a comeback.”
“Fuck off,” I grunt, crossing to my desk the moment we enter. I pull out the bottle of whiskey I keep in there, downing a gulp of the amber liquid.
It doesn’t do anything for me, but I’m not only pissed off, I’m shaking with rage.
“I almost fucking shot you.”
Levi takes the bottle from my hand, taking a drink before eyeing the label.
“Expensive.”
“What the fuck do you want? How the fuck did you find me.”
He lets out a breath, sinking into the chair on the opposite side of my desk.
I’m too agitated to sit, so I lean against the side of the desk, facing him.
“We’re brothers. I know you better than you think.”
“Clearly not or you’d know I wouldn’t want visitors.”
“You bought the island under an alias, but you used Mom’s maiden name. What did you expect?” he grumbles, taking another drink.
Because I can and because I’m older, and because this is my goddamned island, I take it back from him.
“Not all of us have the DEA pushing every little thing we do under the rug.”
“Yes, well. Not that you didn’t have the option.”
“Too much paperwork.”
“You mean not enough fun?” I don’t like the way he wags his brows. As if I’m a fucking nutcase, murdering people for the fucking hell of it.
“I do what needs to be done. Not what the United States government lets me.”
“You’ve just got to know how to handle your problems, brother,” Levi chuckles, looking around my office. “I must say, I was surprised this is where you were choosing to hide out at.”
“We aren’t hiding.”
“So it’s okay if I let Mila’s mother know where’s she’s staying?”
“Fuck off, Levi. Don’t make me fucking shoot you,” I growl, and he falls back in his chair.
“So testy, tonight. Would that have anything to do with your little br—”
“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.”
For once, Levi has the good sense not to push the matter. Maybe he’s finally growing up.
“You’ve got five seconds to tell me why you’re here or I’m throwing you off the cliff.”
His smirk falls and he reaches into his pocket, tossing a flashdrive on the desk beside me.
“What’s that? Your homework?”
“Plug it in.”
I huff out a breath and reach for the drive, firing on my laptop, and plugging it in.
There’s only one file—a video—and when I click on it, ice fills my chest.
I can’t make it more than thirty seconds in before I’m shutting it down.
“Thought that might interest you.”
“Where the fuck did you get this?”
“Picked it up off a guy in Oregon last week. Not the one I was tracking, but a customer.”
I grip the edge of the desk so hard, the wood threatens to crack under my hands.
“Where the fuck did he get this?”
“I have information that he’s in New York.”
Immediately, I’m shaking my head.
“I’m not leaving Mila alone.”
“If he’s still out there, she’ll never be safe.”
“She’s safe with me.”
“That the card you want to play it? Why do you care, anyway? The bitch shot you.”
I pull my gun on him so fast, he doesn’t even have time to breathe.
“That’s my wife .”
He shakes his head, his face growing red with anger.
Good, because that makes two of us. I was seconds away from finally having my girl back.
“All the more reason to go,” he says finally, the weight of that one single word settling in the air between us.
I let the gun drop, tossing it back on the desk and grabbing the whiskey bottle.
“And she didn’t shoot me.”
“Bullshit.”
I eye him for a moment, before crossing to the front and pulling out the file I keep in the top drawer. Tossing it on the desk in front of him, I wait while he opens it to stare down at the first picture inside.
I notice he’s quiet, faced with the proof we’ve been searching for, for the last fourteen years.
He freezes, silence falling over the room so thick, you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks outside.
Then, he chuckles. The sound low and dark, sinister.
“Fucking finally.”
He tosses the folder back to the desk and leans back in the chair.
After a long moment, he finally speaks.
“You know this is never going to end, so long as he’s alive, right?”
I grit my teeth. Of course, I fucking know.
“So long as she’s alive, I’ll never stop hunting.”
Levi chuckles under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I’ll be damned,” he breathes and I hate the fucking grin that pulls on his lips. “You fucking love her . . . don’t you?”
Love her? Fuck, I don’t know.
Does it even matter?
I can never love her because loving her means giving her a death sentence that she won’t walk away from a second time.
I can never love her. Even if there’s a part of me that knows I always have.
“Of course, not,” I scoff. “I’m fucking obsessed.”
I can see by the look in his eyes that Levi doesn’t believe me, but that’s fine. He can think whatever he wants.
My world may revolve around Mila Carpenter and that pretty fucking smile, but hers has never revolved around mine. I’ve made sure of it.
When this is over, she’ll go back to living her life and I’ll go back to wasting mine, dreaming of her.
Pretty fucking ironic, isn’t it?
“You’re setting her up to hang if we don’t take care of this. You know that, right?” he asks quietly and I can see for the first time since he showed up, what he’s really worried about.
He’s worried about what I’ll do if they find her.
Crossing to the window, I look out over our island. Lightning strikes somewhere far off over the ocean.
“If we do this . . .” I turn back to face him. “There’s no going back. I need to know you’re on the same page.”
For once, my brother looks serious.
“You made her a Cross,” he shrugs. “We don’t give up on each other.”
I nod once, turning back to face him.
“We leave tomorrow. First thing.”
“Guess we’ve got a change of plans, then.”
“The plans changed,” I murmur darkly. “The outcome will still be the same.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, leaning back against the wall opposite me.
“So, where do we start?”
“LA.”
“And when we do find him?”
I shrug. “Then, we kill him. Before he gets his hands on her again.”
“Easier said than done,” Levi grunts. “I’ve been trying for years.”
“As have I. I thought he was dead when the trail went cold while I was in LA those last two years. Then . . . Mila happened.”
“You think it was a threat?”
“I think it was an appetizer,” I murmur darkly, visions of that night dancing in my head. The hospital. The bandages.
My little devil’s scars that she feels the need to hide from the world.
Fuck, I have to do this.
“Not a word to Mila.”
“She know . . . about the two of you?”
I grit my teeth. I knew my decision back then would bite me in the ass, but I also knew the ramifications of what would happen if I didn’t make her mine.
“Not yet.”
“You planning on telling her?”
“Soon. When she’s ready.”
A silence falls over the room. You could hear a fly drop dead in the back of the room. Both Levi and I lost in our own thoughts about how this will all come to a head.
I’ve got so much shit to get in order before I leave tomorrow, if I want Mila to be safe. Starting with speaking to Paulina. It’s not the best plan, but it’s all I’ve got, and if we’re going to put an end to this, it needs to happen immediately.
“You can crash on the couch if you need. Storm’s coming.”
“No thanks. A little water never hurt anyone. I’ve got a room at the North Star Comfort Inn and Suites back on the mainland and a date with Debbie the waitress and a stack of pancakes tomorrow morning at eight a.m. sharp. I can’t miss it.”
Jesus Christ. Some shit never changes.
“Then, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Eager to get rid of me, I see? After so much time apart?”
“When my wife’s waiting for me in bed? Fuck, yeah, I am.”
He follows me toward the door, chuckling, only before I open it, he places his hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“We’re going to put an end to this, Christian.”
We’ve been saying that for years.
“Guess we’ll see.”
Just as we step outside, into the night, thunder rumbles overhead and like God himself is pissing on us, an all-out torrential downpour starts.
I can’t help but chuckle.
Fuck, Levi.
“Goddamnit,” he growls under his breath.
“What’s the matter?” I smirk, clapping him on the shoulder. “A little water never hurt anyone.”
He just shakes his head, trudging out into the night.
“Fuck you.”