Dead Drop (The Guild #2)

Putting my phone on speaker, I placed it down on the vanity so I could comb the little shards of mirror glass out of my hair. It’d broken when dickhead tried to buck me off, and my head had shattered the fucking thing. The last thing I needed was glass cuts on my scalp. How uncomfortable.


“Hestia Safe Houses, how can I help?” The woman who answered sounded like she was a receptionist in a law firm or something, pure professionalism.

“I’ve had an incident in your Echo Creek house,” I snapped, frustrated and angry—mostly at Kai—and letting her take the rough edge of my attitude. “Put me through to the boss.”

“That’s unfortunate to hear,” the woman responded. “Unfortunately, Hestia isn’t available this evening, but I can organize a replacement location for you immediately. Would you like transport?” The rapid fire click of her computer keyboard told me she was already sorting it out, and I gritted my teeth with irritation. Hestia was never available. I actually suspected she didn’t exist.

“Not necessary,” I muttered, “nor is the replacement house. But this house will require a deep clean and an overhaul on security.”

The woman at Hestia clicked her tongue, and her keyboard clacked harder. “That’s all arranged for you, ma’am. I have a crew assigned, and they’ll be there to sanitize before daybreak. If I might apologize on behalf of Hestia, security breaches are unacceptable and, as you can appreciate, go against the very nature of our business. I’ve credited your stay back to your account and will apply a fifty percent discount for your next booking with us.”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. They were just like a hotel chain… but with highly dangerous clients and housekeepers that could dispose of bodies. I kind of loved it.

“I appreciate it,” I replied, less annoyed than I had been a minute ago. The money meant nothing to me, but her professionalism went a long way.

“Is there anything else I can be of assistance with, ma’am?”

I rubbed my eyes, exhausted. Leaning my bloody hands on the vanity as I peered at myself. “No, that’s all.”

The woman clicked on her computer again. “If you’d be so kind as to provide some feedback on my customer service this evening? I will just connect you to our survey.” The line beeped as she started the survey bullshit, and I ended the call. I hated those things.

With a weary sigh, I reached into the shower and cranked the water. I needed to wash all of the blood from my skin, and pack up my shit. Hestia’s cleaners would be here soon, and I wanted to be long gone.

As I stripped out of my T-shirt and panties, a domineering presence filled the bathroom doorway.

“Is there something you need, Ares?” I asked, slipping back to the impersonal use of his business moniker. It was easier to detach from Ares—a name I never used for him—than from Kai.

He gave a pissed off sort of growl, stepping into the bathroom. To give myself a bit of space to breathe—and think—I got into the shower and turned my back on him. I sure as shit didn’t need to see the judgment and disgust all over his face as he told me he was leaving.

But he said nothing. Instead, he climbed into the shower with me and held his wrist in front of my face.

I frowned, confused as fuck as I arched my neck to peer up at him. “What?”

He cocked one brow and nodded to the watch on his wrist. “Twenty-two minutes,” he told me in a deep rumble.

It took me a minute, the pieces a bit slow to click together in my brain. When they did, I started laughing.

“Well, shit,” I said between chuckles, “I really am getting rusty.”





25





Kai dropped his wrist displaying the watch timer but did not retreat. Instead, he wrapped that forearm around my waist, pulling me back against his broad chest. He’d run into the house with no shirt on—I just remembered—but he still wore his pants and shoes, not seeming to care that he was getting soaked right through.

“Siren,” he breathed, his face dipping down and his lips finding the bend of my neck. Right below the worst of my lingering bruises. “I thought he was going to kill you. I’ve never been so scared in my whole fucking life as when I saw him standing over your sleeping body with a knife raised.”

His arm around my waist tightened, and I melted into his strong embrace. But then…

“Wait, what?” I wriggled free and spun around to face him, stepping out of the water stream. “What do you mean? How’d you see him—” I cut off with a gasp. “Holy shit. You planted a camera?”

I basically shrieked that question—which really wasn’t a question—and his brows shot up in surprise.

“You… Wait, you knew about the camera. Didn’t you?” He seemed really confused now.

I thumped him in the chest with my fist, leaving a smear of blood behind. “No, Kai, you fucking pervert, I did not. Who the fuck—? Actually, dumb question. You. You’re who the fuck. Wow, Kai, of all the—”

“Hold up!” he roared, halting my outraged tirade. “If you didn’t know about the camera, then why the fuck were you putting on such a show with your vibrator? Don’t even try to tell me that’s how you usually masturbate; it was like something straight out of a porno.” He licked his lips and I was like a fucking moth to a flame, staring for way too long before processing his words.

“I was…” Ah crap. Now probably wasn’t the best time for the whole Leon chat.

Kai tipped his head to the side, waiting for my answer, and the water danced tracks all over his bronze flesh like an unfair fucking advantage. Then again, I never had been one to sugarcoat the truth—or outright lie—just to be a coward.

So I shrugged and tipped my chin back to hold his gaze. “I was on the phone, Kai. That was a show, but it wasn’t a show for you.”

The penny dropped, and a little rage explosion went off behind his eyes. His fist slammed into the tiled wall of the shower hard enough to crack it.

“Motherfucker!” he roared, his muscles all bunching with pure fury and some hardcore jealousy. Goddamn, it was hot. “Danny, you can’t—”

“Malachi Arden, if you are about to try and tell me what I can or can’t do, I would suggest you cast your mind back ten minutes to what I just did in the kitchen. Believe me when I say, you don’t control me. You never will. And if you want to be with me…” What the fuck was I saying? If he wanted to be with me? Did I just swallow a fucking poltergeist who’d taken over my voice box?

“I do,” he said quickly, before I could take it back. “More than anything. Siren…”

He stepped closer, crowding me in and leaning his hands against the wall on either side of me. It was intoxicating, having him so close while I was totally naked. The temptation to even the playing field was too much to resist, and I reached for his pants.

“Siren…” he whispered again, this time letting the anger and frustration drain out of his body language. Not totally, but it was a whole mood shift nonetheless. I unzipped his soaking jeans and tugged at them. “We need to clear the air.”

I wet my lips, my hand sliding inside his boxers and clasping his hard, throbbing cock. “So? Clear it. Just take your pants off first.”

His expression seemed torn, but he quickly made up his mind when I flicked the tip of his dick with my thumb teasingly.

With a muttered curse, he kicked off his boots and jeans, then peeled off his boxers all without even leaving the shower. He seemed to give zero fucks that they were left in the corner with water still beating down on them.

“Happy?” he quipped, returning his hands to the wall either side of me, and I smirked.

“Ecstatic.” I grasped his erection in my hand once more and gave it a long, deliberate stroke. I still hadn’t made up my mind whether he or Leon was bigger. It was too close to call without seeing them together, and that was never going to happen. Much to my disappointment.

Kai clenched his jaw, then grasped my chin in his fingers, lifting my gaze back to his eyes. “Siren, quit playing with my dick and listen to what I have to say.”

A laugh bubbled up in me. Something about Kai not running scared had me in a playful mood. Okay, that and having just tortured and killed a guy… it always got my blood pumping.

“Can’t I do both?” I stroked him with a firmer grip, and he leaned into my hand.

But then he gave a frustrated sound and grabbed my waist, flipping me around to face the wall. He grabbed my hands and pinned them with his own against the tiles.

His hold wasn’t tight, it wasn’t keeping me there. But it was commanding enough that I let him do it. Especially when he nuzzled his face into my wet hair sticking to my neck.

“Danny,” he whispered against my ear. It sent a shiver right through me, because he very rarely used my name. Almost like it hurt him to call me Danny, when he’d thought my name was Danielle for so long. “I got the message, okay? I understood what you were trying to do.”