Page 42 of Mine to Keep (Bloody Desires #10)

Six months later…

One more job. Then I’m home free.

But I took my time. Not only because I wanted it to be right, but I had to spend quality time with my boys first. They were more important than settling a score. They needed my attention and I wouldn’t deny them anything.

But now, the opportunity has presented itself, so it’s time I close this chapter in my life and put Knox to bed for good.

Just as I did with Jake, I sit in her room and wait for her to return from her beach walk. Since she’s arrived in Puerto Rico with her gaggle of friends, she’s been taking a morning walk on the beach every morning, some bullshit about communing with nature.

Her mother died only a week ago, and after she put her in the ground, she cashed in her life insurance and headed here to celebrate. Which is good so I don’t have to leave my boys to off her.

She steps into the room, sliding off her flip flops and doing some ridiculous spin as she giggles into her phone. “This place is amazing. Kinda wish those annoying-ass frogs would shut up so I could sleep, but the beauty of this place is unmatched.”

I tick up an eyebrow as I listen to her complain about the coqui.

She’s wrong, of course. Listening to those tiny fuckers has given me the best sleep of my life, coupled with being surrounded by my boys. I could listen to them all day. She’s an entitled little bitch that will get what’s coming to her.

Between the coqui and my boys, I haven’t had a nightmare in six months. But I mostly attribute that to my boys.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in an hour,” she says, not sensing my presence. “I wanna journal on the balcony before I take a shower. Then we can do what you want. Okay. Talk to you in a bit.”

She hangs up the phone and turns to her balcony, opening the door wide and letting the breeze drift in.

I wait for her to pass the closet I’m hiding in on her way to the bathroom then step out and wrap a palm around her mouth. I press my gun to her back and shush her as she screams into my hand.

“Nice to see you again, Teresa.”

After the police found her father dead and she tried to withhold my payment, Teresa started plotting.

She waited all of two days to have a hit put out on me.

She must have been really pissed to put up five million dollars for my head.

The Director was only supposed to take twenty five percent for himself but ended up keeping more than half.

Piece of shit.

According to the transcripts of her request, she told The Director she wanted to see that I was dead for threatening her, which is why she told him to cut my head off.

She struggles in my grip but I yank her head back. “Be fucking still or I’ll snap your fucking neck.” She slumps in my arms, though her breathing is still heavy. “I’m going to remove my hand, but if you scream, I’ll put bullets in your head. Got it?”

She nods, whimpering behind my palm.

I let her go and she steps away, holding her hand to her chest. “What do you want? Why are you doing this?”

“You put a price on my head, Teresa. After you almost denied me payment for a job.”

“A job you botched,” she spits at me. “Imagine coming home to find him like that. And I wanted to live in that house, but all I could see was the blood stains everywhere. I had to sell. You know how long it took for me to sell that fucking house, knowing someone died in it? I had?—”

I raise my gun and she stops talking, tears welling in her eyes.

“The job was done. You could have used that five million to clean it all up or, hell, even bought an identical house down the block. But you chose to have me killed.” I shake my head as if I’m disappointed in her. “Now you’ll be the one in a body bag.”

She whimpers, dropping to her knees. “Please, don’t kill me. It was a…misunderstanding. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I tell her, pulling a syringe from my pocket. I remove the cap and tuck it away. “You won’t be alive to order another hit.”

She tries to run, jiggling the door handle, but she forgot she threw the bolt. Teresa manages to duck under my arm to make her way to the balcony, but I grab her by her ponytail and yank her back. When she falls onto her back, I inject her with a syringe full of insulin.

Teresa thrashes and cries, rolling around on the floor for several minutes until she stops breathing.

I stand over her, watching as a pallor comes over her face, her eyes wide in fear.

After I check her pulse to ensure she’s dead, I lift her body and place her in her bed.

If someone comes for her, they’ll think she’s fallen asleep.

After I set the scene, I send Peggy a text with all her banking information. She sends a thumbs-up and a kissy face emoji. Shaking my head with a smile, I pocket my phone. Peggy plans to siphon that money and use it for The Void and whatever it is they do these days.

It takes me no time to slip out of her villa and onto the beach. I blend in with normal tourists, walking in the sand to get back to the main road where I left my car.

Once I’m behind the wheel, I send Olivia a text.

Me: I’m done. Finished my last job.

Olivia: Happy for you. See you three in a few months?

Me: Yep.

I toss my phone in the passenger seat and head home.

I’m glad this was my last job because after my injuries from the fucking dynamic duo, I wasn’t one hundred percent. The knife through my hand fucked something up and I can’t move it like I used to. If I had stayed in the business any longer, it would have been a liability.

The drive only takes about fifteen minutes, then I’m back where I belong.

Once I let myself in, I check all the downstairs rooms and don’t find them. I take the stairs to the second floor two at a time, smiling as I hear the chattering of my little one.

When I get to Javier’s art room, I lean against the doorjamb and just watch the two of them, hit with a strong sense of déjà vu.

Talon is sitting on a couch that he maneuvered next to Javier’s canvas, leaning on the arm and talking a mile a minute.

Javier hums, dragging his paintbrush along the canvas, a splash of color appearing under his strokes.

Javier’s hands are spattered with paint, and he has a paintbrush woven through his ponytail keeping it out of his face. Talon’s hair is in a large ponytail on top of his head, the coily ends dangling over his forehead.

This is what I wanted—to be with them, to be a part of their light, to see them thrive.

I fucking love them both.

Talon notices me and smiles, climbing off the couch and skipping over to me. He hops into my arms and I catch him under his ass, laughing as he wraps his arms around my neck.

“Daddy Koda. We missed you.”

Both Javier and Talon said they liked my birth name and started calling me Daddy Koda so they can say it all the time. I’ll admit, it’s nice to hear it. After going by Knox to honor Patience for so many years, I like that they call me something only she did.

I flick up an eyebrow. “Did you? You didn’t even give me a kiss before I left.”

He grins before leaning in and planting a quick kiss on my mouth. “There. Feel better now?”

I give him a look and his eyes grow wide. “If you want to get spanked, keep being a brat.”

After I went and found to my boys, I made sure I gave Talon a sound spanking for how he behaved in the safe house. He could barely sit for a week, but I think he liked it. His bratty behavior got worse and worse. I’ll have to think of a new punishment for him—he likes spankings way too much.

“I’m not being a brat, Daddy Koda. Promise.”

I chuckle and kiss him lightly before walking over to the couch, sitting down with Talon on my lap. Javier stops painting long enough to come over and kiss me gently. “Hey, Daddy Koda. You all done?”

Yesterday, I told my boys I had to finish one last job, explainingwhat I had to do and why. Even though they didn't like that I had to do it, they understood that it was necessary to make sure we lived in peace.

“All done, baby boy.” I draw him in for another kiss before giving Talon one as well. “Now I’m all yours.”

“Good.” Javier pats my cheek softly before going back to his canvas.

Talon giggles and wipes my face. “Javi got paint on you.”

“What are you working on, baby boy?” I ask, tilting my head to the side so Talon can get the paint off my face.

Javier leans over to his palette and swipes his brush through the blue paint he mixed.

“Something for the showcase next month. I already have a buyer, but they want it displayed before they take it home. Probably to rub it in someone’s face.

” He rolls his eyes. Even though he comes from money, Javier is not pretentious.

After I collected my boys and we moved to Puerto Rico, Javier talked to his father about possibly showcasing his work to be sold.

He told him his idea to donate the proceeds to group homes, and Javier’s father, Adrian, was all over it.

It took him no time at all to put something together and for Javier to display his work. He sold out his first event.

He kept his word to donate. After he got the payout, he said he wanted to go to California and personally deliver a check to the group home that I grew up in.

While we were in California, I showed my boys where I lived with Patience, where we worked and where she was buried.

They helped me pick out some flowers to lay at her grave, and comforted me when I cried about missing her.

We stayed at the house I owned in Cali for a week, but it no longer felt like home.

It felt like Knox, not Koda. So they helped me pack up and get rid of a lot of stuff—namely weapons I had Peggy coordinate a pickup for.

She asked to buy the house to use as another safe house and with all the renovations and upgrades, she’s probably the best person to own it.

For his second showcase, Javier plans to distribute the payout among the group homes on the island.