Marked. Part I: The missing Link (33 page)

“
The boy's blood boiled and all he could see was the venomous-red hatred that leaked out of his pores, flowing out into the restaurant. It was strong enough for Dragoni to sense. When he looked up to meet his glare he gave the boy his evil smirk, because he recognized what the scar on his temple meant and he was ready to play. The Marker was fast and was out the door before the boy had a chance to stand. The boy quickly followed, not thinking, not calculating his moves, only running on pure adrenaline and lust for revenge. He followed The Marker as he headed down to the ocean from the cliffs. He rushed down too quickly, losing his footing and falling all the way down, slicing his arm and cutting up his back along the way. It hurt like a motherfucking bitch but he didn't slow down. He only stopped to remove his shirt and wrap it around his arm, hoping to stop some of the bleeding. So very stupid of him to still go after Dragoni, because he's a well trained fighter and you need your full mind and body to go up against him. Dragoni stopped at a secluded part of the beach and waited for the boy to catch up. The boy reached for his gun, but Dragoni is a master at thrown weaponry and had the gun knocked out of his hand with a knife before he could aim it, nicking the inside of his hand,” Jay let go of my head to show me the scar running along his palm. I'm surprised I never noticed before. I trace it with my finger before he places his arm back to hide my face, like he's trying to shield me from what happened.

“
They went to hand to hand combat. Dragoni was a fighter like the boy had never seen, and has yet to see again. The boy was rapidly fading from the cliff almost slicing him to the bone and the banging he was getting from their fight. His left eye was swelling shut and he knew he didn't have long before he would lose. Inch by inch he lead The Marker to the ocean. Once he felt the water hit his shoes he dove under, trying to ignore the stinging of his wounds. He grabbed Dragoni by his ankles and took him under. He tried to drown Dragoni, but a sleeper wave came and sucked them both back under the water. The boy fought for his life against the ocean, but the riptide was taking him further and further away from the shore. Just when he thought his lungs would explode he made it to the surface. He fought his way back to shore, thinking death might feel better than the burning in his lungs and body. He laid face down in the sand, sure death was going to overtake him. When he finally felt like he could breathe again he looked around, but Dragoni was nowhere in sight. The boy let himself believe he had done it, he had killed The Marker. Then Dragoni was standing over him, leaning down to put a hand to his throat, practically choking him as he spoke, “That was fun. I almost died out there.” He dug a gold claw into the boy, giving him his second mark. The boy was too tired to care if he marked him or killed him, he had nothing left in him. Dragoni got more in his face and smirked in the evil way that he does, “You have one more chance, boy, and then I finish you. Next time, be better prepared.”  He vanished, the boy too exhausted to do anything about it.

“
For the boy's third attempt, he planned for it. He was twenty when they came across a man to hire Dragoni. In exchange, the boy would guarantee the person he wanted dead died at no cost to him. The boy and his father followed the man Dragoni was hired to kill to a fundraiser. They led the man away from the party to a private room, knowing Dragoni would be watching his mark and follow. They knew he would be thrilled he had an easy three kills lined up for him. What the boy and his father failed to realize is that Dragoni recognized the boy's body and how it moved, despite their clever disguises. The Marker grabbed a woman exiting the bathroom near the empty room the boy and his father were hiding in and sliced her throat with his claws. The boy and his father ambushed The Marker when he entered the room, one on each side, pointing guns to his temples. Dragoni took his claws and sliced open the father's throat, taking the boy by surprise and making it easy for The Marker to get the gun away from him. He told the boy not to attack him before he killed the unconscious man on the floor or he would kill him instead. The boy stepped aside, and the minute the man was dead the boy started throwing ninja stars at Dragoni, successfully planting three in his stomach, but it was as though Dragoni felt no pain as he moved for the boy. Once again they went to hand to hand combat. Even after all the boy's training, he still wasn't on the same level of fighting. Dragoni fractured his ribs, dislocated his shoulder, and broke his right hand. The boy did get the throwing stars jabbed deeper into The Marker's flesh and broke his left leg, but it wasn't enough. The Marker had him to the ground and gave him his final mark before knocking him out. The Marker left the room, and the husband of the woman he had killed, a man by the name Benedict Cole, was hovering over her. Benedict knew who Kolme Dragoni was and attacked on rage and heartbreak. The Marker, deeply wounded but still a fighter, easily fought against Benedict, giving him his first mark before sending him unconscious.

“
When the boy awoke, he was faced with the sight of another parent he loved dead in a pool of blood. Instead of realizing the need for revenge had killed his father and quitting, it only fortified his determination and anger. Benedict found the boy laying next to his father's dead body, soaked in his blood, and brought him to his private doctor. The boy knew this man and had never seen anyone in as much agony as he was over the loss of his wife. The boy would never forget his eyes that day. The joy and humor he'd always had for life was gone. The boy knew Cole's wife's death was on his hands too. Benedict did not blame the boy, insisting that she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but the boy knew better. Both his father and Cole's wife had died because of his obsession to kill Dragoni, and he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his life.”

Chapter 32

9:03pm

The tears don't stop falling, coming down one after another, silent but strong, “Jay, I-”

Jay silences me, “The story's not over yet. I want you to hear the happy ending; I think you will like how this story ends.”

I nod my head and sniffle.

Jay softly kisses my temple before continuing, “For the next five years, the boy – who was now a man – isolated himself, traveling from city to city. He did this for two reasons: to follow a lead on The Marker, or because he had been in a place for too long and didn't want people who knew him to find him. He wanted to be left alone to focus solely on avenging his parent's death. He was never happy, never sad, occasionally angry if someone pissed him off. He was basically a machine, training himself to take down a killer, never feeling emotion. In fact, he thought anger and revenge were the only emotions he had left.

“
Then one Christmas, his life changed. He was on his computer, doing his daily investigation of where The Marker might be, when someone knocked on the door. The minute he opened it his life was forever changed. There stood this tiny, beautiful, cute girl, and he was inexplicably drawn to her. He watched her take in his appearance, and for the first time he hated how scary he could look. Instead of trying to soften for her, he became annoyed because he had never felt whatever strange thing was going on in his body when he looked at her. When he studied her and saw her cower back in fear of him it hurt his feelings. He hadn't had hurt feelings since he was Noah. The hurt turned into anger, an emotion he was more comfortable with, and he sent her running home terrified of him. The next few hours he went from lifting weights to pacing his house, trying to get the girl's big, round, innocent eyes out of his head.

“
There was another knock on his door and there she stood, food in her hands, looking nervous and shy, but not frightened. He was shocked; girls like her always avoided him. When she spoke, her voice soothed every nerve in his body.

“
He spent the night dreaming of her shy smile and innocent eyes. He couldn't get her out of his head, and it was annoying to him because he couldn't place what it meant. He had never had a crush before and had no idea what that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was when he thought of her. It only irked him and made him feel weak.

“
A few days later, a group of men attacked this woman behind the bar he worked at. That was the most intense rage he had ever experienced; he wanted to rip their heads off with his bare hands, but the girl was there and he didn't want her to witness death. He wanted those sweet, innocent eyes to stay that way. He sent them on their way, giving them a false sense of safety until he could hunt them down and finish 'em.”

He pauses for a long time, and I decide to ask, “How do you stomach it?”

“I've been watching shit worse than that since I was eight. Death and blood are as common for  me as air and water.” Jay lets out another long exhale, “That night he brought the girl home. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest when he saw how weak and scared she looked sitting in his truck. He wanted to comfort her, but he hadn't the first clue how. Then the girl followed him into his house and started to fall asleep on his couch. He couldn't let her sleep there; it didn't feel right to him. Someone like her deserved better than his shitty-ass couch. He brought her to his bed and she made him get in with her. This made him nervous. Any of the people from his past would have pissed their pants from laughing at Link being nervous around someone, but this girl made him feel all sorts of things he didn't understand. She cuddled under his arm and rested her cheek on his chest. It sent him into a bit of a panic attack, but with every passing second he liked the feel of her in his arms, and he liked knowing she was in his bed where nobody could touch her and she was safe.

“
He couldn't shake himself of her. Despite his best efforts, the more time he spent with her the more time he
needed
to be with her. The more she was around, the more he came alive. The day they made pie together was one of the best days of his life.

“
That same day, he watched her fall asleep in his arms and couldn't get over how perfect she was. He never wanted to leave that couch. He wanted to spend the rest of his life there, watching her come and making it happen. He loved seeing the rosy glow on her cheeks, knowing he put it there, and the sweat glistening along her hair line from him pleasuring her so thoroughly. He knew nobody's perfect, but she was his form of perfection.

“
He had fallen for the girl; he was drowning in everything about her. When it was time for him to move on to a new location, he didn't think he would survive the pain in his chest. Right before he left he went on a rampage through the place he rented, not caring about the damage. He was full of bitter anger at everyone who had ever entered his life: his father for bringing him into his lifestyle, his mother for falling in love with him, The Marker for his fucked up game, the people whom he knew would find him if he stayed in one place for too long. Mostly he hated himself for falling in love, because now he had had a taste of what happiness and peacefulness felt like.

“
All he could think about as he drove was her. God, it hurt how much he already missed her.” Jay buries his face in my neck, “He missed the way she smelled.” He takes in a deep breath, “So fucking good.”

His words cause me to smile. I think he feels it on his skin because he smiles too and I can feel it on mine.

“He missed the way she tastes,” the tip of Jay's tongue trails up my neck and his lips brush across mine. His next words breathe into my mouth, “He missed her mouth and the amazing things she could do with it. He missed her warm, welcoming, big, brown eyes. They were the only set of eyes to ever truly see him, and know him in ways he was just beginning to learn and understand about himself.” He kisses both my lids. I'm so blissed out on love for him while I soak in his words and tender touches. He drags his hands along my thighs, stopping at my bottom. “The feel of her skin,” Jay whispers in my ear. He grabs both bottom cheeks and slightly lifts them, “How it feels to be inside her.” Still firmly grasping my ass in his hands, he rubs me against his erection and we both moan loudly. After a few more glides he wraps his arms around my waist and now we stare, lost in a trance, “but most of all he missed her, and how she felt like home-”

My mouth is on his before he has the chance to say more. I can't stop myself after the way he completely opened up to me and told me things that have me falling even harder for him. My tongue takes over, but Jay doesn't seem to mind. We kiss at a frantic pace, trying to catch up on all the kisses we've missed out on.

My shirt's immediately removed and I copy, removing his. His fingers hook under the waistband of my undies and he starts to tug them off, but hesitates, “Is this okay?” His uncertainty surprises me. It's like he's not sure if I want him that way anymore, “There's more to the story. I can go back to telling it?”

I unclasp myself from him and get off the bed. My eyes never leave his as I remove my panties, then proceed to help him remove his bottoms.

He takes my sides and pauses to lazily graze down my body, taking in my naked form. The hunger in his eyes intensifies before pulling me back on him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I feel his erection between my legs, throbbing and hard, and I wiggle in excitement.

Jay softly kisses me before lifting me up and sliding me down on him.

“
Oh god
,” we both groan into each other's mouth as I slowly become full of him inside me. Once he is all the way in I relax on top of him and we breathe heavily, exchanging air as we enjoy his thickness inside me. It's not about sex in this moment, it's about connecting, feeling a part of the other in an intimate way. We kiss some more as I keep still, every so often clenching around him, making us both moan.

I slowly start to move my hips.

Jay brings his lips to my ear, “As the days passed he almost turned back a dozen times, but every time he thought of it his foot accelerated more, until he couldn't take it any longer and headed back for her. On the fourth day – oh fuck, that feels good,” Jay rolls his head back as my hips go up and slowly come down, walls clenched, making small circles as he returns to his story, “On the fourth day he was eating breakfast, staring out the window, trying to think of ways he could be with her. That would involve her knowing who he was and putting her life in danger. He was terrified that once she knew he could kill without blinking an eye she wouldn't want him anymore –
oh shit
,” Jay hisses in my ear, his nails digging into my sides as I continue moving up and down.

“
Do you feel how wet I am for you?”

He can only grunt in response, his eyes rolling back. I want to say more, to tell him how what he did doesn’t matter because I see the real him, but I’m too lost in my lust for him. I've been craving this connection with him, when we let our bodies speak for us.

The more I pick up speed the further up Jay's hands come until they're knotted in my hair, our foreheads and noses firmly pressed together.

“
He loves her. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he knew the second he saw her she was different. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it's what happens when you meet your destiny, or maybe they call it love at first sight merely because the minute you see that person you know your life will never be the same again, and his won't.” He shifts us in one graceful, effortless move, and I'm now on my back with him on top, my legs still wrapped around him. He dips his head down to trail kisses from my collarbone to my ear, where he nibbles, his hips unmoving and putting enough pressure on me that I can't move mine. All I can do is enjoy the exquisite feeling of being filled by him. When I try to rock my hips he puts more pressure on my lower half and I whimper in protest.

“
I need to slow this down, I was about to come in that position. I want to make this last.” His lips trail back down to the base of my neck. He buries his head, inhaling more of me. He rocks back and forth into me a few times before stopping. My whole body screams for him to keep going as my emotions go from bliss to a magnified state of euphoria from hearing his confessions.

I force his head up to meet my lips and I kiss him. I hope he understands that I'm trying to tell him how much it means to me that he's finally letting me in.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask, breaking our lips apart.

“
Because, baby, revenge is an ugly seed, and once it's planted it soaks into your veins, feeding off your cells until they grow as black and dark as it is, eventually casting an ominous mask over your soul. That's what my life had become until you. I can't say goodbye again, but I can't have my revenge and have you. I choose you,” his hips start to rock in and out, harder and faster with every thrust.

“
Yes, Jay! Please!” I cry, not sure if it's wanting him to keep going or wanting him to choose me.

It's both. I want both, and I'm feeling greedy so I take it. I lift my ass up, clenching my ab muscles, making them pull up to move him in deeper.

Oh shit that feels good.

I do it again but put more of a thrust into it and we both start clawing at each other as our climaxes build.

He's in deep and his cock starts to pulsate and enlarge; I know he's as close as I am.

“
Come for me, Jay. I need to feel you come inside me.”

I want him to plant himself deep inside me. I want to know he's a part of me, that his seed's what fills my body. Maybe it's the cave-woman in me, or maybe I want it because of  his metaphor for revenge. Whatever the reason, I want to know that it's him who consumes me.

“Oh fuck, Lily,” Jay's cheek smashes against mine. All I can hear are his heavy, ragged, choppy breaths, and all I can feel are his erratic, possessive thrusts that make my head spin. He shudders, shoving one last thrust inside me before spilling into me, filling me to my core. “Want to know when he knew he would never need anything as badly as he needed her?”

Still being semi-hard, he picks up his movement again.

“God, yes!” I cry again, both for the release I feel coming and for the answers only he can give me.

His thrusts stop.

No!
I'm so very close. I begin to sweat in my need for relief.

His lips forcefully crush against mine, then lighten up a notch but don't lose contact, “The first time you came for me. It was so fucking beautiful. You relinquished your whole body to me and I never wanted to own something more in my life.”

His thrusts start up again, moving in a way that sends me wild and needy.

“
Jay!” I cry for the thousandth time, digging into his shoulder blades, taking skin with me.

“
I wanted to own your heart,” thrust, “your mind,” another thrust, followed by a groan from me, “your sweet as sin body,” heavy deep thrust that has me on the verge of peaking, “I wanted your soul,” he pulls all the way out and hovers over me, waiting for me to open my eyes and lock with his, “I wanted to own those things, because in that moment you owned every fucking part of me, and you still do.”