War Games

21. SIREN

21

SIREN

A s I wake in the warmth of two strong arms, I try to push past the blanket of grogginess that makes my body feel heavy. I instantly melt into Reaper’s hold as I peel my eyes open to a new day. My head aches, my lungs ache, and my chest . . . holy fuck. But nothing matters more than the fact that I’m alive and in his arms.

The memories of my night assault my mind, and despite the distraction of being in Reaper’s orbit, I can’t make them fade away.

In my line of work, I’ve had more than enough close calls. I can’t even count on one hand how many times I’ve been shot. My body is practically a road map full of scars telling the story of the hell I’ve endured over the past ten years, but last night was different. I’ve never felt fear like that, never felt my lungs burning from the inside out. The heat inside that suite was like nothing I’ve ever known, and while I could empathize with Eagle’s trauma, now I understand it.

“You good, baby?”

I clear my throat, cringing at the immediate burn. “I thought I told you that I’m not your baby.”

Reaper scoffs, and in the one sound, it’s clear as day that he has no intention to stop using that goddamn word. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, sitting up and reaching for a glass of water and painkillers.

A smile pulls at my lips, loving that he was thoughtful enough to have that prepared for me, and as he holds them out toward me, I do what I can to sit up. “Thanks,” I say. “ I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Nothing quite like being burned alive.”

I swallow the little painkillers, cringing as the pills work their way down my hoarse throat. “You know me,” I mutter. “I’m all about experiencing everything life has to offer, but this particular experience . . . I don’t know. I don’t recommend it. Zero out of five.”

A forced smile pulls at Reaper’s lips, and it’s clear he’s trying to make me feel better about my situation, but there’s no sugarcoating this shit. It is what it is, and the only way past it is to give it time . . . and to slit Gasoline’s throat. I’m sure that will have a wonderful healing effect on my soul.

Reaper lays back down, stretching his arm out behind my head and offering me a place to lay, which I take without hesitation. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there to pull me out,” I tell him, getting comfortable against his chest, owing him my whole damn life.

“It wasn’t me,” he murmurs as his fingers brush across my skin. “Shadow was the one who pulled you out. Nearly fucking killed her too, but she wasn’t giving up.”

“What?” I breathe, pushing up against his wide chest and meeting his haunted stare. “Shadow?”

Reaper nods. “She beat me there and didn’t hesitate racing in after you. I don’t know how it went or what happened in there, but when I arrived, she was dragging your lifeless body out the back. She didn’t give up until I got there, and the minute I had you, she collapsed in the grass.”

“Fuck,” I say, my heart starting to race as a million different emotions overwhelm me, remembering the moment a shadow cut through the thick smoke. I was delirious and couldn’t breathe or even scream anymore, but I remember hands pulling at me. I assumed they belonged to Reaper, but it wasn’t him. Shadow risked her life to save me, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Of course I’m so grateful for her sacrifice, but she’s just a child and should never be put in a position where she has to make the decision to risk her own life for someone else’s. “We need to find her. She could be hurt.”

“She’s here,” he tells me. “She’s sleeping in one of the bedrooms and has no immediate plans to leave. She’s good. Just a few small burns, nothing that can’t be fixed with a cool compress and a first aid kit.”

“But—” I let out a heavy breath, never having been so conflicted in my life. “Why would she do that?”

“For the same reason you cook her a meal every night. She cares and wants you to be okay.”

I swallow over the lump forming in my throat and lower myself back against Reaper’s chest, only now just realizing how dirty I am. I’m covered in soot and ash with grass stains across my lower half, probably from where Shadow dragged me. My skin is burned, but from what I can tell, it’s nothing too substantial, and as for my wrists, they’re going to need a bit more attention.

I can’t stop thinking about Shadow fast asleep somewhere deep inside this home or the fact that my suite no longer exists. I can’t help but glance up at Reaper, meeting his hooded stare. “I suppose you’re keeping me hostage here for the foreseeable future.”

He scoffs, not even needing to answer, and I roll my eyes, realizing he has absolutely no intention of letting me leave. “We’re like some kind of dysfunctional family,” I tell him, the words sending a wave of warmth soaring through my chest, making me realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way. Finding a family wasn’t exactly on my bingo card during War Games, but now that we somewhat resemble it, I can’t fathom the idea of losing it.

A soft laugh rumbles through Reaper’s chest, and the sound is the best type of medicine. “I suppose we are,” he agrees.

A stupid smile pulls at my lips, and as I settle back into the sheets, I start thinking a little more logically. All the stuff I brought here is gone, burned to a crisp. My custom tops and weapons, even my laptop, disintegrated into nothing but ash. “What am I supposed to do? All my stuff is just . . . gone,” I say, trying to figure out what the rest of War Games is going to look like for me.

Reaper shakes his head. “Don’t be worrying about all of that. Clothes and weapons can be replaced. You can’t. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters.”

I scoff. Clearly this man’s priorities don’t quite line up with mine because not having a weapon within arm’s reach isn’t exactly a way I’m comfortable living. Though, considering this is Reaper, I don’t doubt there are weapons hidden all over this home. All I’ll need to do is go hunting and my stock will be replenished. But it’s not the same. Most of those weapons had sentimental value. The first custom blade I bought. The two I stole from Reaper the night he saved my ass. The dagger I’d used to kill the man who put his hands on me at fourteen. Every weapon I had meant something to me, and those memories are going to be hard to say goodbye to.

“Stop overthinking it,” Reaper tells me, squeezing my thigh.

I let out a breath, and feeling frustrated with my situation, I sit up before slowly getting to my feet. Reaper hovers over me like a prison warden. “Take it easy,” he warns. “You fucking died on me. I left bruises on your chest from giving you CPR, and I’m not about to let it happen again.”

“Then, by all means, come with me.”

His brows furrow, and I slowly begin to cross the bedroom and make my way into the bathroom. “I need to shower,” I tell him, knowing he’s more than noticed the current state I’m in, not to mention the gasoline that’s festering in my hair. “I need to wash my hair and just . . . be clean, then after that, we’re going to figure out the most brutal way to end Gasoline’s life.”

“I told you,” he says, a strange note in his tone. “I work alone.”

I scoff. We’ve been working as a team these past few days, he just doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s more than just a simple team player. “Not anymore, baby ,” I say, mimicking the tone he uses every time he calls me that filthy word. I’d prefer if he called me his little slut or a filthy whore, but baby? Ugh. It makes my skin crawl. “She stole all the IDs I’d collected over the past two weeks, stole my identification, and then tried to burn me alive. She’s not getting off with a simple bullet between the eyes.”

“Okay,” he finally says. “Together.”

I nod and turn my back on him as I peel my clothes off my scarred body, and when my arms start to give out and my muscles begin to hurt, Reaper takes over, stripping me down. He leans into the shower and turns on the water, and with his hands on my hips to keep me steady, he leads me into the shower.

The water rushes over me, washing the black soot from my skin, but I’m going to need a little more than flowing water to clean this shit off my body. Reaper stands behind me, fully clothed, and as I place a hand against the cool tiles, keeping myself balanced, he takes my hair and gently starts unplaiting the long rope-like strands.

“I failed,” I murmur, feeling the weight of everything that happened last night resting on my chest, or perhaps that’s just the bruises Reaper left from the compressions he gave me to keep my heart pumping.

“You didn’t fail, Siren. You got comfortable. You let your guard down, and you didn’t check your cameras before entering the premises. You made mistakes, but it makes you human. Just be grateful that you’re alive and you have a chance to even the score.”

“She has my ID. She used my real name.”

“And?” he prompts. “That doesn’t suddenly give her an edge. It’s a name. Whether you use it or not. She’s not better than you. She had no hope of beating you in a fair fight. She had to get you while your guard was down, otherwise, she wouldn’t stand a chance. But the way I see it, you’re now in a position of power.”

My brows furrow, and I glance back over my shoulder, meeting his eyes as I try to figure out how the hell he came to that conclusion. “Come again?”

“With any luck, your name will appear on the death toll. The whole suite was burned to the ground. They have no idea that you weren’t in there, which means you’re a ghost. Nobody is watching you now.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Not if Gasoline stayed and watched the show. If she did, she now knows there’s an alliance between you, me, and Shadow. We’ll be an even bigger target.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees. “But that’s the risk you take when you play War Games.”

I let out a heavy sigh, closing my eyes and trying to relax as he works shampoo into my long hair. A soft groan rumbles through my chest, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone care for me in this way, not even as a child. It’s well out of my comfort zone, but I can’t find it in me to ask him to stop.

My heart races, and I don’t exactly understand why, but what I do know is that waking up in his bed after he spent the night trying to save me means something. This is more than just the games now. If he didn’t care, he would have let me die. It would have sucked, but he would have moved past it in a couple of days, and that right there scares the shit out of me because had the roles been reversed, I would have done the very same thing.

Fuck. I think I’m falling for this man.

He rinses the shampoo out of my hair, and before I know it, his hands are lathered with soap, gently moving across my aching skin. The soot washes off my skin, and as his hands roam over my body, I relax into him, letting him take me away into a world of blissful pleasure.

“Reaper,” I moan.

“I got you,” he promises as his hand skims down my body and slips between my thighs, brushing past my clit and making my hips jolt.

I suck in a gasp, and as he circles back and does it again, my knees begin to shake. My body is too sensitive, and I don’t have the ability to hold back. His hands continue moving, not wanting to linger anywhere too long and risk hurting me further, and when it’s time to rinse the soap off, Reaper reaches for the shower head above us.

He brings it down over me, washing the bubbles off my body inch by inch. His arm locks around my waist, holding me against him, and as I close my eyes, his lips come down on my neck, gently kissing as his lips move along my sensitive skin.

I grip his arm around my waist, needing it for support, and as the shower head trails down low over my stomach, I suck in a breath. He doesn’t stop, and as I tilt my head, allowing him more access to my neck, he trails the water down over my hip.

Anticipation builds deep within me, sensing where he’s going with this, and I don’t dare ask him to stop, needing it more than I need my next breath. Then finally, he reaches the promised land, and the water gently shoots right against my core.

My knees weaken, and my body instantly wakes up, having to grip his arm tighter to keep myself up. “Holy shit,” I breathe, tilting my head back to his shoulder as his arm around my waist shifts up, giving him space to grasp my breast and roll my nipple between his skilled fingers.

Reaper adjusts the shower head, changing the setting from the normal flow to the massager, and I gasp as the water pressure shoots directly against my clit. He circles it around, not keeping it in the same spot and risking overstimulating me, and the pressure is just right.

“Fuck,” I pant, my eyes rolling in the back of my head.

“Just let it go,” he says, enticing me with that deep tone, but I’m not there yet.

I need more. I need him.

Reaching behind me, I feel for Reaper, finding the front of his drenched pants, and for just a moment, I expect him to pull away, to tell me no, or to say this is all about me, but he allows me free rein as I undo his fly and free his massive cock from the confines of his pants. “Please,” I groan, wrapping my fingers around him and madly pulsing up and down his thick shaft, feeling the ridges of his angry veins.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you too far.”

“I need you inside of me,” I tell him.

Reaper doesn’t hesitate, shifting my hips back and taking my thigh to open me wide. I have no choice but to release my hold on him and grasp for balance against the wall. Then as the water thrums against my needy clit, Reaper slowly pushes inside of me, gently rocking back and forth as my walls stretch around him, accommodating his impressive size.

“Oh God,” I groan.

It’s everything I need, and I’m completely at his mercy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s as if he knows exactly what I need as I need it.

His soft grunts surround me, and knowing my body has the ability to make him feel this way has me desperate to please him. I want to give him everything. I want to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel right now, and the second my skin doesn’t feel as though it’s melting off my body, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

The water pressure against my clit has me in a chokehold, and as Reaper slowly rocks in and out of my needy cunt, it becomes too much for me to resist. The intensity builds inside of me like a coil tightening, ready to spring, and as the water shoots against my core, I have no choice but to let go as the coil explodes within me.

My orgasm shoots through my veins and sends a wave of ecstasy crashing over me as my knees begin to shake. I grip Reaper, holding on to him with everything I have as he continues thrusting into me, rolling his body with such perfect, precise movements.

My eyelids flutter as my orgasm continues to build, and when Reaper comes with me, the softest grunt fills the cramped shower. “You’re so goddamn beautiful when you come,” he tells me in a deep, gravelly tone. “When your sweet little cunt squeezes me like that . . . fuck.”

A lazy smile settles across my lips, and I lean back into him, my energy quickly dwindling as I come down from my high. He releases my thigh before locking his arm around my waist once again, holding me up and shifting the shower head away from my over-sensitive clit.

He adjusts the setting back to the normal flow before fixing it back into its position above our heads, then he turns me in his arms and simply holds me. “I thought I was going to die,” I tell him.

“Not on my watch, Siren,” he rumbles. “I still have fifteen days to devour you, and I’m not about to let either of us lose a single one of those seconds.”

I shift my stance before lifting my chin and meeting his heavy stare. “Why?” I whisper. “Why does it matter to you so much?”

He shakes his head, his dark gaze mirroring the unease that I feel deep in my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s having the same realization that I am—that there’s something more here, something profound between us. “I wish I knew.”

His words sit with me, and after letting out a breath, I reach behind me and shut off the water. Reaper wraps a towel around me, patting me down to avoid rubbing my wet, aching skin. Then, as I finish drying off, Reaper peels off his wet clothes, and I grab one of his clean shirts.

He helps me pull it over my head, and I can’t help but notice the way it smells just like him. Then as he starts to dress himself, pulling a shirt over that incredible grim reaper tattoo and hiding it away, I find myself wandering out of the main bedroom and searching for the girl who saved my life.

My heart races, unsure what to say to Shadow or how to even be around her. The last time I checked, she wasn’t sure about me, always inching away and watching me as though she wasn’t sure if she could trust me, but surely things are different now.

Making my way down the hall, I let my fingers drag along the drywall, the exhaustion still gripping me in a chokehold. There’s no telling when the last of my energy will fade away and leave me scrambling on the ground.

I pass two bedrooms, finding them both empty, before setting my sights on the final one at the opposite end of the hallway. It makes sense for Shadow to want to put as much distance between her and us as possible, and if I were smart, I should be putting distance between us too. Yet no matter how hard I try, I keep finding my way back to him. Either that or he’s the one finding his way to me. Honestly, I don’t really know anymore. But what I do know is not being the object of his desires is somewhere I never want to find myself.

Creeping toward the final bedroom, I approach the closed door and gently rap my knuckles against the hardwood. I don’t announce myself or wait for her to welcome me in. If she’s as good as I suspect her to be, she would have heard my footsteps down the hall and known they were too light to be Reaper’s. Then when I didn’t stop and turn toward the kitchen and living room, she would have known exactly where I was going.

Taking the handle, I slowly open the door, taking my time so as not to startle her. I don’t want her to fear me, and despite her knowing that I’m already here, barging in like a raging bull isn’t going to give her confidence that she can trust me.

Peeking my head inside the room, I find Shadow standing beside the bed. It’s made perfectly, not a single bump in the blankets, and I can’t help but wonder if this is normal practice for her. Has she been standing there beside it all night, or did she allow herself a few hours of vulnerability to sleep before making the bed to military perfection the moment she woke? And in which case, why hasn’t she moved since then?

“May I come in?” I murmur, meeting her bright blue stare.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I suppose.”

I offer her a tight smile, feeling so far out of my league that I don’t know where to go from here, but I suppose, being the adult in the room, I have no choice but to try and wing it.

I swallow over the lump in my throat and immediately regret it. The burn in my raspy throat is already proving to be a bigger pain in my ass than Reaper. Then, reminding myself that I’m not a wuss and that this beautiful, selfless child did something so incredibly brave, I step into the room and walk right into her, throwing my arms around her petite body.

She stiffens in my hold, and her awkwardness suggests that she’s never been hugged for even a second in her short life. “Thank you,” I tell her, holding her tighter and refusing to let go. “You saved my life, Shadow. You were so incredibly brave, and while it was reckless and dangerous to risk your own life for mine, I will always be grateful.”

“I . . . uhhh. I was just doing what anyone else would have done in my situation,” she says, slowly beginning to relax as she lifts her arms and awkwardly wraps them around me.

“No, Shadow. Nobody would have done what you did in there,” I tell her. “They would have stood back in fear and listened until my screaming stopped. You ran in and risked your own life just for the chance of saving mine. There’s no way I could ever thank you enough.”

Shadow holds me just a little bit tighter, and when she buries her face into my shoulder, I realize just how deprived this child has been of affection. “Nobody has ever cooked me dinner before,” she says, her words muffled by my shoulder. “You and Reaper . . . You’re both nice to me for no reason other than because you want to be, and I . . . I’ve never had anybody care about me like that.”

My hand shifts from her back to her hair, and I hold her there for just a moment longer, not daring to move until she’s the one to pull away. And when she does, it doesn’t go unnoticed just how close she remains to me. “Look,” I start, placing my hand on her shoulder and holding her blue stare as I realize that Reaper’s hovering in the open doorway behind me. “I can’t pretend to know how the next two weeks are going to play out. I can’t promise that someone isn’t going to get the drop on me or that I’m going to be here right until the very end, but what I can guarantee is that I’m not going to walk away until someone physically takes me out. I need you to survive, Shadow, even if it means ending both mine and Reaper’s lives. I can’t fathom the idea of one of these assholes hurting you, of someone like Gasoline doing to you what she did to me, and while I have so many questions about how you came to be here in the first place, just know that all I want is to protect you.”

Shadows nods and lets her gaze fall toward Reaper behind me. “But I don’t want to kill you . . . either of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Reaper says, stepping into the bedroom that somehow seems so much smaller with him inside of it. “But that’s the nature of the game. The three of us can have each other’s backs and eliminate the other contenders. We can face this as a team if we must, but there will come a time when you will have to take our lives. There’s no other way out of this.”

“And if I don’t?”

I offer her a sad smile. “Then Reaper and I are going to have no other choice but to pull some of that fucked up Romeo and Juliet bullshit and take ourselves out. You not walking out of this alive is not an option.”

“Why can’t we all walk out of here alive? How would they ever know?”

“They’ll know,” Reaper says, his gaze shifting to mine, a question I can’t quite decipher lingering within his lethal gaze. “And when they figure out that they’ve been played, the bounty on our heads would be astronomical. We wouldn’t be able to shake it.”

Shadow lets out a heavy sigh before nodding her head again. “Okay, so that’s the game plan,” she says. “We take out the final five contenders, and when the time comes . . .”

Reaper steps into my side, his fingers brushing against mine. “We lay our lives down and allow you the chance at having a real childhood, only ten million dollars richer.”