This is where they kept Culver's body.
“Here,” Kite said, breaking into my thoughts. He slapped the top of a keg that was sitting in the center of the floor. There were eight of them gathered. “This will be a cinch with both of us.”
I eyeballed a barrel, sweat collecting on my neck. Stop thinking about that. Shaking myself free of the morbid images, I grabbed one side of the keg and grunted. “You guys have a lot of stuff,” I said, helping him set the heavy object on the far side of the basement. Clearly there was a system here. “What is all of this?”
“Jacob orders everything, I don't have a clue.” Shrugging, he loosened the neck of his shirt. Pulling it over his head, he revealed the tight, dark grey tank-top underneath. His shoulders gleamed, corded muscles swollen from his pumping blood.
My heart took a leap down into my gut, giving up on life. I'd seen this man naked, and still, a peek at his hard edges had me buzzing. Focus and stop being a horny teen, I reprimanded myself. Gripping a container, I rolled it until Kite came to help. “Jacob really does everything, doesn't he?” I asked.
“He's always been more organized. Even as kids, he made the plans.”
The metal felt good in my fingers. Nice and cold against my heating mood. “I never asked, when did you two meet?” Kite glanced at me, his nose scrunched like I'd asked him something too personal. I pressed on, undeterred. “You're clearly good friends, so if you knew each other as kids...”
Palming his neck, he sighed. “It's been a long time. Guess I was nine when we met.”
Nine. They had known each other for that long? “That's amazing.” The more I thought about it, the softer my smile became. Kite would have been as old as my sister Cece when he met Jacob. I felt a strange flicker of envy. “You guys might as well be brothers,” I chuckled, glancing up at him under my eyelashes.
Embarrassment crossed his features. He looked away, grabbing another bulging metal keg. “Might as well be,” he agreed seriously.
The air around us was uncomfortable. I blamed myself, I'd been prying into his life. But, the two of them knew so much about me... and I knew almost nothing about them.
No, I told myself, eyeing Kite from the corner of one eye. I know what counts. These men are skilled killers. Why did I need to learn anything beyond that?
Why did I even care?
Kite straightened abruptly, digging into his pocket. “Hello?” he asked, pushing the phone to his ear eagerly. He blinked, then smiled brighter than he had in a while. “Sure. One second.” Clicking the device off, he buried it away and glanced at me. “Hang tight, I'll be right back.”
I nodded. “Okay. I'll make sure no kegs run away while you're gone.”
He said nothing, just jumping up the stairs two at a time with amazing speed.
I watched him until he had vanished. Kite was beautiful, in the way that a volcano about to erupt was beautiful.
Sitting on the edge of a barrel, I crossed my legs. The basement wasn't exactly creepy, they'd made it feel rustic with orange lights and wood beams. But, frankly, I couldn't sit down there alone and not start squinting at the shadows.
At least one body had been down here.
Maybe more.
In spite of myself, I imagined what it would feel like inside of a barrel. Tight, as if someone was pressing on my lungs. Could I even scream, would anyone hear?
Kite had promised me I would never end up that way. But he hadn't said he wouldn't kill me. And... I was fine with that. Wasn't I?
Yes, I told myself firmly.
I had to be.
A footstep scuffed the stairs. Twisting, I expected to see Kite.
Pale blue eyes rested on me, a swimmer's body cloaked in a three piece suit. He stood there, the light from above glinting off his hair, the darkness of the basement hardening his features.
His smile scraped over my body—over my rapidly thumping heart.
Jacob was back.
One polished shoe slid over the cement, aiming at me. He was locked on and I was conscious of my hands, my lips, and every muscle from neck to toes. Four days, now. Four days since he'd kissed me. That was how I'd begun measuring time.
His mouth opened, his darkness falling across me. I forgot how breathing worked.
My brain had decided to melt like ice cream and run down into my lower belly. I was sure he was going to press his wicked lips to mine, right there in the basement.
“Marina,” he said, and hearing my name was a shot of adrenaline. “I need you to look at something.”
I swallowed over my numb tongue. “Hello to you, too, stranger.”
Chuckling, he went to take my hand. Heaven help me, I sat there and let him. “I might have something for you that's better than a hello.”
I had an idea about what could be better.
It was too inappropriate to say out loud.