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14

GUNN

M y cell phone rings, waking me up from a fucking amazing dream where I was about to take a bite of a cheeseburger.

“Is that you or me?” Scarlet asks.

I wipe a hand down my face and glance down at her. I’ve always hated being woken up, but the sight of her makes this even better than a dream. “Hey, Peaches.”

We’re lying on the bed, her naked body pressed tightly against mine. She wriggles as she stretches, then pushes her leg between mine. “Hi, Dimples.”

“You always sleep so soundly with the enemy in your bed?”

She giggles and bites my shoulder. “I didn’t have a choice. You wore me out.”

Chuckling, I grab my phone from the nightstand and glance at the screen. It’s Luca.

The call goes to voicemail, but instead of leaving me one, he sends me a text.

Luca: Just had an interesting chat with Kyle. We need to talk.

My stomach sinks and I stare ahead. Shit.

“What is it?” Scarlet frowns.

“Nothing.” I ignore the text and set my phone ringer on silent.

“It was Luca,” she guesses.

Placing it back on the table, screen side down, I say, “I haven’t checked in for two days. He’s probably wondering if I’m still alive.”

Not exactly true. When he asked me to call him yesterday evening, I sent him a “thumbs up” emoji. Then I came here and it slipped my mind. This girl has a way of distracting me.

For nearly twenty-four hours we’ve been fucking, sleeping, eating, and fucking some more. We’ve defiled every part of her tiny one bedroom, and I’m not anywhere near satisfied. If I call Luca, I’ll have to end this before I’m done.

It’s not just her body that has me evading Luca. I’m fascinated by her. She’s become this puzzle I want to solve in its entirety. I want to… No. I need to know what makes her tick. Why she fights me with every fiery cell in her body, yet surrenders under my touch. Why she laughs with abandon, but her green eyes are filled with shadows. Why she’s the villain, but protected a girl with her life. Why does she cut herself? Who is this innocent life she took?

I need to know the answers to this to justify the fact that while she’s my enemy, all I want to do is keep her for myself.

However, as much as I want to unlock all of her secrets and set myself free from whatever the fuck this twisted attraction is, I won’t push her again. She opened up to me, gave me a glimpse, then slammed the door shut.

“I want to show you something,” I tell her.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Want to come on a ride with me?”

“Are you taking me in?”

I graze her cheek with the back of my hand. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet. Just thought we could use some fresh air.”

She nods. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to get some clothes on for a minute. Where do you want to go?”

“Well, you’ve showed me yours, it’s only fair I show you mine. Puts us on a level playing field.”

Her lips pull into a wide smile. “I do like playing with you.”

“Me too.” I bring her to me and kiss her deeply, breathing her in.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re dressed, me in my black Korn T-shirt and her in a deep blue biker suit that hugs every curve like a second skin. God, I love her in those outfits.

“What?” she asks when I stare at her like a lion would a prime steak.

“You look good enough to eat.”

“We can do that instead.” She gives me a coy smile.

“I plan to. After our ride.”

We go downstairs to the tiny garage she rents. She insisted I park my motorcycle in here, in case anyone driving by recognized it.

She peers out a small window that faces the street. “Looks clear. Where do you want to go?”

“Just a place.”

Her face snaps to mine as she manually lifts the garage door. “Just a place?”

“Yeah. Figured we could use a change of scenery.” I throw my leg over my Ducati and pat the seat behind me.

“On your bike?” She gives me a sexy smile and sways her hips as she comes toward me. Her fingers dance over my back and down my chest. Then she moves to the front fender. Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Is this the bike you chased me on the first time we met?”

I chuckle. “It is.”

“You hit me with this thing before you shot my back tire. Do you know my Ninja was totaled? That’s why I got this one.” She points to the black beauty parked beside mine. “Not to mention this apartment.”

“Then I did us a favor. Now we have a secret place to fuck.”

She taps on the scratches still evident on the paint. “Why haven’t you gotten it fixed? I’m sure you have the money.”

Shrugging, I say, “A memento of the way we met.”

“God, you’re cheesy.”

“But you like it?” I waggle my brows.

“Too much.” She leans in and licks my earlobe. “I like all of you too much.”

“Right back at ya.” I pat the seat again. “Get on.”

Her smile suddenly vanishes, replaced by a frown as she stares at the spot. “Can I trust you?”

There’s no need to elaborate further. She wants to know if she can trust that I won’t drive her straight into the heart of the alliance.

In the end, she seems to throw caution to the wind, something someone with her skills would never do. Another contradiction.

I reach over and grab the helmet hanging from her handlebars and place it on her head. Once I’ve pulled out of the garage, she shuts the door and gets on the bike.

Starting the engine, I slowly back us out onto the street. “Ready?”

Scarlet snakes her arms around my waist and her knees tighten to my hips. She sighs and presses her face into my back. That’s when I realize she’s trembling.

“Are you okay?” I turn to look at her.

“This is the first time I’m riding with someone. I won’t have control of the bike.”

“I’ve been riding since I was ten,” I assure her.

“And you might still ride like a ten-year-old.”

This makes scowl and she laughs in that contagious way that forces me to laugh too.

“You hurt my ten-year-old feelings,” I mock.

Patting my arm, she says, “I’m sorry, Dimples. It’s that, believe it or not, I’m scared of dying.”

“You’re an assassin.”

“Isn’t it ironic?” She chuckles and tries to brush it off as nothing more than a joke.

But, I see past what she’s just said, because when she did, fear crept into the green of her eyes and reflected the truth. She’s not only scared of dying, she’s terrified of it.

An assassin that fears death.

“Stop it,” she tells me when I stare at her too long. “I’m messing with you. I’m not scared of anything.”

I take her hand and squeeze. “Yes, you are. But don’t be afraid of me.”

She huffs. “You’re what I have to fear the most.” Her arms come around my waist again and this time, she has her trembling under control. “I’m ready.”

We head down the street leisurely. Soon enough, though, we’re riding full speed. She squeezes tighter, and I can’t say that I hate it one bit.

I’ve always believed there’s nothing better than a long ride with only the sound of the wind in your ears to drown out everything else. That was until this moment, when out of the blue Scarlet decides to let go.

She tightens her thighs and extends her arms out slowly, testing her freedom. When they’re fully out, the wind blowing through her fingers, she throws her head back and shouts, “This is fucking amazing!”

I join her hoots of excitement and think this is fucking amazing. Only in my wildest dreams have I imagined anything like this.

However, when I catch myself avoiding familiar streets, circling neighborhoods I know are dense with Sinacore men, I realize this is a dream. A fragile one that I can wake from at any moment.

The thought is sobering enough.

Scarlet must sense the change in me, because she brings her arms in and places her chin on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s just keep quiet till we get where we’re going.”

“When you said you were taking me somewhere, I imagined a romantic sunset on some secret rooftop,” she says, taking in her surroundings with a confused expression.

“What, this isn’t romantic enough for you?” I grin at her.

“I guess it depends on what it is.” She walks over to a sign that’s been torn off the wall and is now leaning against a dusty desk. “Keaton Banks Orphanage.”

“It was just The Keaton Orphanage when I lived here. They were having a really bad time and sold it in an attempt to save it.”

She glances between the sign and me, and something like pity comes over her so strongly, I think she might cry. “This is where you lived?”

“It is.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’ve never brought anyone here.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you, you showed me yours, I wanted to show you mine.” I take her hand and tug her up a rounded staircase of the old Victorian. It creaks with every step we take, a reminder of the repairs needed.

On the second floor, to the right, is a bedroom I’m so familiar with, sometimes when I wake in the middle of the night, I still search for the window.

“This used to be mine,” I tell her.

She walks in, staying close to the wall, touching everything in her path—furniture, old wooden figurines, pictures.

“Were these yours too?” She picks up a matchbox car left on the dresser.

“Nah. I took everything when I left.” Some other sad kid left that behind. “The place shut down six years ago. They ran out of money.”

“Where did the kids go?”

I brush my hand over a spider web clinging to a lampshade. “Other orphanages, foster homes. Wherever they could place them.”

“How sad.” She sits on the edge of one of the five beds placed in here. I know what she’s doing, trying to imagine what it would have been like when I lived here. Able to easily do it because she had a similar childhood.

I decide to help her. “The walls were covered in some hideous blue wallpaper with little flowers. There were only three of us in here, I had the bed closest to the window. No rugs because they were too hard to keep clean, but the wood floors were warm enough. We got to pick our covers. I had a set with the WWE logos.”

A chuckle bursts from her. “That is exactly what I pictured. And some of those wrestler’s figures on your nightstand.”

“Yup. Stolen ones.”

“Of course.”

“Did you get to choose your own?” I ask her.

She peers at her feet. “I never lived in one place long enough.”

I wonder what’s worse, having bounced around as much as she did, or spending most of the time in an orphanage.

Sitting beside her, I glance around and inhale. “The smell, that’s the same.”

“You mean, mildew?”

“Smell of my youth.” I laugh. “The place is mine now.”

Her brows pinch together. “You bought it?”

I nod. “A year ago.”

“Luca must pay you well.”

“He does.” Really, it was our hustling before he took over the Sinacores that paid for this. Before his brother died, Luca and I had our own business. Luca’s uncle liked to call it a little gang, but really, it was a powerful organization with our own drug and weapons trafficking contracts. We gave the Sinacore famiglia their due, and made sure everyone else did too.

Back then, Luca and I paid visits to anyone that didn’t comply with the rules and we took a percentage of what we collected. Now, we still get paid without having to do all the dirty work.

I kind of miss it. Miss the thrill of the chase. Could that be why I’m so fucked up over this girl?

She sighs and her chest rises and so does my dick. Nope. I’m just fucked up. Period.

Completely unaware of my sudden need, she asks. “You guys known each other long?” She tries to hide the curiosity from her tone, but it’s there, in the side glance. There are some things no amount of investigating can find.

“A long time,” I tell her. “Since we were about ten, I think.”

“How did you meet?”

“Well,” I lean against a covered piece of furniture. “I was living in a foster house at the time. I’d slipped out the window when I spotted a kid around my age walking down the street. It was late, around midnight, and any kid on the street at that hour couldn’t be up to any good. Of course, I wanted to meet him. So, I followed him into Troy’s Video Store.”

I recount how I watched him go into the little room in the back, the one separated by a beaded curtain. When he came out, looking all suspicious as he tucked something into his brown leather jacket, I knew he’d stolen a dirty movie.

“Hey!” I whispered right beside him. “Who are you?”

He yelped and the movie fell out of his jacket. The store owner had us by the scruff of our necks before we could take another step.

I’m not sure why I told him it was me, that I stole the movie. I think it was because Luca literally turned green. I didn’t think he’d make it in Juvie. Not that I would have either, if they’d have sent me. They didn’t.

Instead, our parents were called. Luca was dragged away by his scary as fuck father, but not before he could tell me where he lived. And I was sent back to the orphanage.

“He cost you a chance with that family,” Scarlet says with a tinge of indignation.

I chuckle and go sit by her. “He actually saved me. Turned out those people had some sort of scam, fostering kids just for the money.”

“Did you get another chance?”

“Nope. Believe it or not, I was a bit of a troublemaker in my youth.”

Her mouth drops open in mock surprise. “You don’t say!”

“No one wanted a troublesome teen. I grew out of the system.” I bend my head far enough to capture that mouth. When I slide my tongue over hers, she moans and I breathe it into me. Pulling away, I grin. “I’d say I’ve changed, but it would be a lie.”

“Wouldn’t be here if you had.”

“Mmm.”

She bumps shoulder. “Is your real name Gunner?”

“Yup.”

“Gunner Sinclair is a Scottish name, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t exactly look Scottish.” She studies my face, my dark skin.

I laugh again. “Because I’m not wearing a kilt?”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “I mean, did you come with that name or did they name you here.”

“My name has been Gunner Sinclair since birth. At least, that’s what it said on the note left with me at the church I was abandoned at.”

She averts her gaze and swallows. “Have you searched up your biological family?”

“I’ve been too afraid. If they didn’t want me then, why would they want me now?”

Scarlet seems to think on that. “They loved you.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, they could have left you in a dumpster. But they put you somewhere they knew you’d be safe and gave you a name. So whatever the reason for leaving you, it had to be love. And it means they might still be out there, loving you.” The sadness in her tone strikes me more than the words.

“I never thought about it that way.” I narrow my eyes. “Guess I should feel lucky about that.”

“You should.” She drops her head onto my chest and squeezes tight. “Please take me home now.”