Page 49 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Wild

P ain lances through my side, and I come to with a hiss, teeth clenched, vision blurry.

The crunch of tires on gravel is the only warning I have before my world tilts again.

Resnik backs up, spins the wheel and we fishtail when the tires hit tar.

My head slams against the window, muffling all sound.

It’s like there’s cotton stuffed in my head and pain becomes all I know before everything goes dark again.

“Bennie…” An angelic voice cuts through the silence. It sounds like tinkling bells… beautiful. A bright light infiltrates my eyelids. I pry them open. Kiera’s face looms over mine, disproportionate and wavy.

“Don’t call me Bennie.”

“That’s it… stay with me….” My lids grow heavy and darkness edges in. “No…” I fight the lethargy but I’m quickly losing the battle when the cold splash of water suddenly revives me.

“Wha—”

“I said stay awake, you have to stay awake,” Kiera yells at me.

Or at least the pounding in my head worsens with each word out of her delicious mouth.

Ah, that sweet mouth. I burn to feel her soft lips on mine.

Wait… the burn is coming from my right side and it’s getting worse.

But her lips move closer, and my Heathen is frantic.

Why? Her lips mesmerize… I want to nibble on them.

“Kiss me, Heathen,” someone says.

I want her to kiss me, not someone else.

“Now is so not the time, Bennie…”

For some reason, I laugh when her words become wah…

wah… wah. Then my eyes have a mind of their own and roll backwards.

It doesn’t matter, I’m in her sweet embrace, her lips brushing against mine.

Forcing my gaze back to her beautiful face, I strain to press my lips to hers again, but my head is way too heavy.

“Christ, man.” A huge hand bursts through Kiera’s blurry face and cracks across my cheek. I struggle to focus, annoyingly instead of my Heathen, Resnik’s face in mine. “Stay awake, you have a concussion, dumbass.”

The pain in my side intensifies as the bastard pokes at me. Every few seconds he shoves me with a palm on my face to make sure I’m awake.

Be a man and come at me when I’m standing and see how that turns out, Asshole.

The next swipe he takes at me rattles my brain in my skull, and it all comes back to me.

Taking Kiera to the floor. The gunshot. My stomach clenches at the thought of Kiera.

I struggle to make sense of my surroundings and finally realize I’m in the backseat of a car with Blade next to me, staunching my blood.

Wasn’t he just driving? My head spins as I pull myself up to sit up with the help of the seat in front of me.

When the revolving world settles, Kiera’s in the front seat, driving my car like a bat out of hell.

Hot. So fucking hot. No, stay awake, stay aware.

She’s driving one-handed, because she’s twisted in the seat, spending as much time looking in the back seat as she does out the front window.

“What’s the fucking point of dragging him out of there if you run us off the road?” Resnik barks out.

Kiera ignores him like the queen she is and our gazes crash together, but the car stays on the road. She reaches an arm over the bench seat and grabs my hand. I squeeze it as tightly as possible, and the car lurches onto the gravel before swinging back onto the pavement.

“There are easier ways to kill us all. Pay attention. Situational awareness, Kiera.” Resnik hisses, and Kiera turns back to the road, cursing under her breath.

He does not get to talk to my girl that way.

Anger races through me and I shove Resnik’s hand away. I take over with the bloody towel at my side.

“Where are we going?” Kiera and Blade share a look in the rearview. I growl at him, blood boiling with frustration. “You don’t have a back-up plan, do you?”

Blade growls right back at me but gives his head a hard jerk to the side. “It’s been a busy few minutes.”

“I have a place nearby. Old safe house my MC used.”

Blade gets over himself for a moment, probably because, like me, he wants Kiera protected.

“Chances are too high it’s occupied. We need something else. Come on, man, you’ve been alive too long to be this fucking stupid. How did you earn your special agent title? On your knees?”

“Fuck you,” I rasp out through a dry throat. “There’s no one there.”

My tongue feels like sandpaper, and I have a serious case of cotton mouth.

“How can you know for sure?”

Another stinging throb pierces my side. “Because they’re all dead,” I grit between clenched teeth.

I took out the last of the members who weren’t in the alley the night my cover was blown or in the club bar when my team showed up.

I made damn sure they were all dead.