End Game (32 page)

“I’ll give you a call when things have straightened out here.”

Vince gives me a glance and then his dark eyes flick to Joe. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.”

My heart skips as he briefly holds me to his chest and kisses my icy cheek in front of them. My skin burns, obliterating the cold from the ice pack. “Be back soon.”

Vince throws an arm around the slightly shorter man. As I watch their faces bend toward each other, I’m struck by the similarity in features. God, they could be brothers. Vince’s face is a little more devilish, a little crueler, whereas Joe’s is unruffled. His lips lift occasionally in a small smile, never really expressing much. Vincent is more animated—more energetic. Joe is sedate.

Always calm.

Always in control.

No wonder I like being around him. He made me feel a little better while chaos exploded around me. Every so often, his eyes dart towards me and freeze, and a wave of intense heat rolls through my body. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of how he looks at me.

It doesn’t even bother me that I’ll have to leave this place. As long as I’m with him, I won’t mind. I just want my sister to be safe.

The boss, Jack, gives me sidelong looks along the table as he lights another cigarette. A shiver of unease crawls over my skin. Then a warm hand strokes the back of my neck and Joe’s lips move on my ear.

“We gotta go.”

“What about my sister?”

Cool eyes stare back at me. “We’re going to send someone to protect her.”

“And—my brother?”

The eyes look away, his jaw tensing. “He’ll be taken care of.”

I stand up suddenly, a rush of blood overwhelming my head. “No, I can’t let you—I can’t. I know what he did, but just let him go to jail.”

The guys give me strange looks as Joe takes my head in his hands.

“You know that won’t work.”

My head swims with memories of Nathan, my mind drudging up every single sympathetic thing he ever did. I know he tried to get me killed, but I can’t help but feel revulsion for what Joe wants to do. I’m not like him. I can’t just disconnect from my humanity, but I wish I could. I wish I could pull the trigger and feel satisfaction running through my veins.

Ever since I’ve met him, I’ve struggled with right and wrong. What is right and wrong? The old me would have been repulsed at the choices I’ve made now. How many murders have I witnessed and why don’t they bother me as much as they should? Why do I give a shit about my brother who scared me into silence as a child, and threatened me as an adult? The questions bounce around in my head, unanswered. Self-doubt makes my heart race. I feel guilty. I’m leaning strongly into Joe’s dark world, and I feel guilty about it because it’s easy. It’s convenient. It’s so much easier to kill the bastard, to get rid of him. Why stop there? Why not kill all of them—all the people in my way?

That’s the danger I find myself slipping into, like a deep, sluggish pool. Coils wrap around my ankles, my wrists, tugging me deeper until I can’t breathe. I accept that Joe lives a life that I could never wrap my head around, but must I accept it for my own? Must I kill my own brother?

I’m afraid of losing myself in this darkness.

“It’s not just about protecting you,” he says, thumbs stroking my cheeks. “He went behind our backs to Jersey. We can’t let this go.”

“I’m not going to sign off on this. You do what you have to do, but I don’t want any part of it.”

His hands fall from my face. “All right.”

Joe says his goodbyes to the others while I lean against the wall and cross my arms, blocking out images of Nathan as a boy out of my head. We finally head out and I lean my head against his shoulder, desperate to get out of this place—to be alone with him.

He looks happy, too. Joe gives me a wink and smile as he opens the passenger door for me and I slide inside, content to relax in the leather seat. Joe steps into the driver’s seat and turns the ignition. The vibrations through the floor of the car suddenly send a wave of panic through me. I clutch my chest. My heart feels like it’s squeezing, like juicing an orange. I’m being crushed—suffocated.

“What’s wrong? Marisa!”

The rumbling of the car stops and he gets out, wrenching open the door.

“I’m dying!” It’s hard to explain where this wild panic comes from. Something about the vibrations of the car reminded me—reminded me of being dragged into the woods and almost executed.

He pulls me from the car and holds me against his chest. The overwhelming urge to hide takes over. I ball myself in his chest, shaking as he holds me like an infant. A pair of footsteps clip on the pavement.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” says Joe’s panicked voice. “We got in the car and she freaked out.”

Vince’s head dips into my vision. “She’s just having a panic attack. Adriana had them after the shooting.”

“Shit.”

The more he holds me, the more the suffocating pressure recedes. I draw a shaky breath. I still feel jumpy as hell, but at least I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore.

“It’ll be all right. Just take her somewhere quiet where both of you can relax.”

“I’m okay.”

Joe helps me stand up and two pairs of concerned eyes stare at me. My cheeks burn and I suddenly feel stupid and weak for collapsing in his arms. At the same time, I don’t feel normal. There’s a strange, buzzing noise in my ear and suddenly there’s a crack in the distance, reminding me of gunfire, and I jump horribly.

Vince raises his eyebrows. “You’re not okay, but you will be.”

After a few more minutes of coaxing, I get back into the car and the anxiety floods back into my chest. I grit my teeth and grab the armrest, shaking as he drives the car. Joe gives me worried looks as we pull onto the highway. I just can’t close my eyes, that’s all. If I close my eyes, I’m transported back into that car driving me to my own death.

Joe puts music on, probably to distract me, but I can’t calm down. I don’t know why. I know he won’t hurt me. There’s no rational explanation except that I was almost killed earlier today, and being in this car is torture. I feel like I’m in one of those sweat lodges.

Jesus Christ.

“Want to play some mini golf?” he murmurs suddenly.

I give him an incredulous look. Mini golf? Seriously? “I don’t think this is the time for mini golf.”

A small smile plays on his lips as he suddenly takes an exit. We’re not even out of Jersey, yet.

“Joe, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

Suddenly, he pulls into the parking lot of a huge, grey building with giant, green letters that say: “MONSTER MINI GOLF.”

“Oh my God.”

He pulls into an empty parking space and the growl of the engine cuts off. “Let’s just blow off some steam for a bit. You need it.”

A wave of uncertain relief washes over me. “But isn’t this dangerous? We’re still in Jersey.”

His shoulder lifts up in a shrug. “I really don’t think we’ll run into any wiseguys here.”

Fair enough.

The inside of Monster Mini Golf is completely black, lit up only by rows and rows of softly glowing black lights. Joe and I walk inside amidst a sea of children and preteens, looking wildly out of place. He doesn’t seem to mind as he buys golf clubs for both of us, handing me a white ball that seems to glow in the darkness. The pinging sounds coming from the arcades remind me of the casino, and my heart clenches in pain.

I just can’t think about it.

The 18-hole golf course looks like a highly colorful graveyard. There are cartoonish ghosts surrounding the bright green borders, and every hole has a unique monster.

Joe grips his tiny putter and aims through the legs of a giant, red dragon with glowing eyes. He swings and the dragon suddenly emits a loud puff of steam, and his ball goes wide.

He looks extremely disappointed in himself. “It distracted me!”

“Hey, don’t blame the dragon for your subpar skills.”

Joe’s body bumps into me suddenly, and a rush of heat floods my cheeks when he brushes hair from my shoulders. “You’re going to be like that, eh? Fine. Bring it on.”

He grins at me and leaves my side, determined to win the game. The rest of the course passes with us teasing each other, and Joe trying to distract me when I swing the putter. On the final hole with the clown’s tongue, he moves up behind me and grabs my waist, rough fingers slipping on my hips.

“You sure you can do this?”

A shudder runs up my legs, up into the glow between my legs. Damn, he makes me so weak. I feel like a girl with a crush when I turn around and stare at his full lips. A vision of me sucking them sends more electrical shocks through my skin.

“Yeah, I can!”

I turn around and bend slightly, focusing at the ball at my feet as Joe strokes my ass shamelessly. His low laughter nearly drowned in the cacophony. The white ball zips up the long, obscenely red tongue of the clown into his mouth, then shoots out neatly into the hole.

I win.

“Goddamn it.”

As he leans in to kiss me behind my ear, I suspect he may have played badly on purpose to cheer me up. I turn my head so that my lips brush against his mouth and I feel his smile against my mouth. His hands grip my waist and the sensation gives me a tantalizing image: me on my knees as his hot hands anchor on my waist, thrusting. My tongue teases inside his mouth as I drop the putter. It clangs on the floor, but I don’t give a shit. My hands move inside his jacket, stroking his broad chest and his gorgeous neck, which is flushed with heat. Joe pulls away slightly, not enough to make me feel rejected, but enough to make me pout. He squeezes my sides and gives me a look heavy with lust.

“You’re going to get me hard and then we’ll both be thrown out.”

“So let’s go.”

A deep, low growl resonates in his throat as he kisses me again, his hands straying a little too close to my ass. Then we leave the miniature golf place and enter the blessed silence of the night. When we approach the car, I expect him to open the passenger door for me, but he looks at me with a steely grin and slides the seat up.

“Get in the back.”

He wants me to get in the back of the car?

A tantalizing bump bulging in his jeans tells me why. I riled him up in the mini golf place. A little too much. “Joe, we can’t fuck in a car.”

“We’ve fucked in an office, in a shower, on my bed, on your couch, and now I want to fuck you in my car.” He steps forward, grabbing my waist with that dangerous look in his eyes that tells me there’s no way out of this. “I want you now, and I’ll have you in my car.”

I love it when he talks like that. “But—it’s in public and we might make a mess.”

“Just think of it as blessing the leather seats in my car.”

Laughter shakes from my throat to echo around the half-filled parking lot.

“Get in, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

I smile at him and step inside, desire already swirling in my stomach as he follows me swiftly and shuts the door. It’s like I’m a teenager again, filled with bliss with the discovery of young love or lust or whatever the hell it was. He moves in close to me, close enough so that his breath warms my neck. Then his hands burn across my shoulders, letting my jacket fall, and then pulling off my t-shirt. Somehow, it feels more sensual in the cold. His lips land on my clavicle like hot pokers as he yanks my bra away. The sliding sound of his hand on my naked skin makes me shiver, and then he suddenly grabs my tits, his thumbs caressing the erect nipples.

God, everything he does makes me feel so amazing, even the compliments he breathes into my ear. I’ve never felt so desired—so loved.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Then he suddenly bites my tits as if compelled by some mad urge. I grab his cock as the sweet pain sears me. He tears off my pants and I nearly slice my finger open trying to unzip him. It’s a trial just to get his massive cock out of his briefs, but then he hooks his thumbs around them and pulls them off. Every inch of him stands to attention. I just want to lean forward and lick that mouthwatering sight.

Oh, God. Are we really going to do this?

I look outside, a stab of anxiety shooting up my spine as I hear voices. Too late, though, because Joe takes my waist and there’s a moment of fumbling between the lips of my pussy. Then sweet, glorious release as he impales me with his thickness. There’s a tiny sting, followed by slick, eye-rolling pleasure. His legs flex as he pounds me ruthlessly. It’s clear he’s in for a quick, hard fuck, but I want him to go on for hours. My hand desperately flattens on the window, making a wet streak where we’ve already fogged.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

I do. His brown eyes squint in exertion, rolling back in ecstasy as he connects hard with my waist. I link hands around his back, feeling his sweat through the t-shirt. There are no words—I can only moan desperately into his ear, my hands clawing at his back.

“Faster. Harder.”

“I’m going to fill your sweet mouth with my cum, and you better swallow
every drop
.”

“Yes, I’ll do it. Just don’t stop!” My scream rebounds harshly in the car, and for a moment I’m horrified, but Joe doesn’t give a shit. He drills my pussy, riding me faster until every breath is knocked out of my lungs before I can draw it down. Then suddenly he pulls out and shimmies up until his waist is level with my face. His cock prods my face and I turn my head to take him in my mouth. I wrap my fingers around him tightly as he pumps in and out, urging me on with moans. “Yes, just like that.”

His hand cups my pussy and dives in deep, striking the bed of pleasure nerves over and over. My chest inflates. I breathe hard and suck him harder. He’s getting close. The hand holding my hair pulls painfully. Fingers dive into my wet pussy and it’s as though they’ve lit a fuse to a bomb. Closer and closer. He’s splitting my mouth wide, his hips moving. Then he lets out a huge groan and salty warmth fills my mouth. The fingers curve, anchoring inside me as I fall apart, my orgasm clenching around him as he pumps in my mouth. I swallow down every drop and then he pulls out to hold me in his heaving embrace.

Joe rolls his eyes and laughs. “That was fucking amazing, just absolutely…” He shakes his head. “You’re incredible.”