Poughkeepsie (30 page)

E
VE
P
UT
T
HE
F
INISHING
touches on her outfit. She wore big hair, her favorite spike-heeled boots, black leather pants, and a bra top. Her leather jacket topped off the look.
Battle armor
. She could
be
this girl if she dressed just like her. Eve tucked her knives and a gun into their hiding spots on her body.

A text arrived from Merkin:

Boss granted bail, wants u 2 pick him up

Eve typed back:

On it

She took her silver crotch-rocket to pick him up. When she arrived, Eve waited outside, leaning against her bike and holding her helmet.

Beckett pounded down the steps and smiled from ear to ear when he saw her. Eve tried to ignore the tremor she felt, the fracture in her shield.

“You’re a sight for sore fucking eyes. Are you trying to kill me, hotness?” He walked with a fake pimp limp as he got closer.

“Yeah, I am.”
If he only knew.

Beckett stood within arm’s reach. She could have her blade in his neck and be a mile away on her bike before he hit the ground. But her hands stayed still.

“You still an ass virgin?” she asked. “Did you have Mouse knit you a pair of iron panties to wear to jail?” Eve handed him her silver helmet.

“I’m still as pure as the driven fucking snow. Thanks for caring.” Beckett looked around for another helmet.

“I didn’t bring one. You wear it.” Eve swung her leg over the seat and hit the kickstand with a clack of her metal heel.

Beckett stubbornly held onto the helmet, and they merged bareheaded into traffic, disregarding the law. Eve hated the way her body responded to his thick arm around her waist. She countered the feelings with a twist of the throttle, so the speed demanded all her concentration. The bike took the turns like a cheetah. Sooner than she wanted to, Eve pulled into the parking lot at Beckett’s place of business. Beckett bumped fists with his hangers-on and the drug dealers in the parking lot.

Merkin appeared with an update on his brothers. “Cole’s at the church and Blake’s in the woods.”

Beckett nodded as if these responses pleased him. Eve followed him into the building. No one would dare frisk her, and she entered Beckett’s inner sanctum fully armed—not that she needed her weapons. They were just reminders about why she was here. Her purpose.

She closed the drapes and locked his office door. Beckett sat on his couch and kicked off his boots and socks with a shit-eating grin.

Bet he’s thinking about our kiss.
The weakness in that kiss was shameful. Eve let her horror at having wanted to comfort him last night fuel her. Her jacket slipped off her shoulders, and the seduction began.

A moment of uncertainty passed over Beckett’s eyes.

“Stand up.” Eve worked to keep her voice calm and in control. Beckett stood and waited with one eyebrow arched. Eve pulled out her favorite blade and smiled. She stepped close enough to feel the heat from his body.
There’s just so much of him
.
Stop. Kill him. You’re here to kill him.

She tried not to let the sight of his banged-up hands generate any sympathy. Eve cut his shirt from his chest. With a quick slice up each arm she removed the sleeves, letting the blade scrape his skin gently. She put the knife in her teeth and used her hands to rip his shirt open. A bandage covered the wound she’d inflicted on him the night before. She used the knife on his jeans, the razor sharp edge sliding through the material quickly.

“I’m going commando today, Edward Scissorhands, so don’t cut off anything precious. And leave a wide berth, if you know what I mean.” He winked at her cold eyes.

Eve ignored his charm. It would do her no good to smile at him now.

“So that’s how it is. Today’s the big day.” Beckett nodded with a wry smile.

He knows
.

He was naked now. “How you want me, baby? Execution style? Or you want to look me in the eyes?”

Beckett put his arms behind his head like a prisoner of war. Eve threw her knife against the wall, where it stuck in the plaster. Here was where she was supposed to deliver her speech. The speech she’d recited so often in her head. She’d run through it over and over while running punishing miles. She’d delivered it after hours on the shooting range. She’d gasped it at the rear view mirror of her car after tae kwon do.

“Beckett Taylor, you killed my hopes and dreams. Now I’ll kill you and everyone you care about. You’ll leave this earth as empty as I am now.”

Instead she stood looking at him. He looked around the room impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m
letting
you do this. Do it.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Listen, I know it’s easier when they’re not fucking looking at you.”

Beckett turned and faced the wall. Eve tried to recreate the accident again, but she could only see him letting her have what she wanted. His own head on a platter.

“I don’t know who hired you, but can I ask you for something?” He talked at the wall.

Here comes the fast-talking, the mojo, the shout to his employees
.

“Could you make sure Cole doesn’t take credit for his handiwork last night? And can you follow up on that Chris guy?” Beckett turned his head a bit, listening for her answer.

He still trusts me. He still trusts me with his brothers.
I can’t do it.

She then delivered a very different speech to his back. One she’d never practiced.

“I was pregnant, and then I wasn’t,” she said softly. “I was in love, and then I wasn’t.
You
did that.
You
took those things from me. My family was collateral damage in a drive-by ordered by you.”

She watched a tremor twitch through his muscles, but she didn’t tense in defense like she’d planned, like she’d always prepared to. “I’ve hated you longer than I’ve done much of anything else. No one hired me. I’m here because it’s the only way I’m still a mother to her. I can still be an angry mother even though she’s not here. But I’m not even doing
that
right.”

Eve hung her head in defeat. She felt the numbness crawl over her again.
Claim me. I have nothing left
.

Beckett dropped his arms and turned to face her. “Eve.”

The odd sound of her name on his lips brought her eyes to his face. He was devastated.

“What’s her name?” Beckett asked in an unsteady voice.

Eve bit her lip. She’d never told anyone.

“Anna.” Eve’s long-dry eyes filled with tears.

Beckett made no move to cover himself or call for help. “That’s a beautiful name. Anna’s very lucky to have such a dedicated mother. Once you’re a mom, that title’s yours for-fucking-ever—like a president.”

He reached over and chose the quietest pistol from the wall. He held it out to her.

“No one will hear this one, so you should be able to get out of here. I’m so sorry. I caused you the most unimaginable pain. It would be my honor to die at your hand, if it gives you even a moment’s peace.”

Eve stared at the gun for a long while. “That’s the worst part,” she whispered, her voice soaked with defeat. “I’m not strong enough. I’ve killed so many. I can kill
anyone
. But I can’t kill you.”

Eve turned her back on the gun and the man. She heard the gun land with a soft thump on his couch.

He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. “Eve, you make me not want to die.”

She turned to see his face. “I didn’t want to be this, and now it’s all I am.”

He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.

He pulled her into his arms. “Cry. It’s okay. Cry.”

Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.

Eve let go of a rope she’d clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer.

Eve added her tongue, exploring his taste. She grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and traced his gunshot wounds with her other. He let her lead.

My call. Kill him or love him. He’ll allow either.

Beckett smiled into her kiss when she started to shudder and fidget. She’d chosen passion.

“Are you sure?” He made her look at him.

She could only nod. Together they took off her leather armor. Then just before she could straddle him, Beckett stopped her.

“Shit! Hold on. Let me get rid of this. My luck I’ll blow my balls off right fucking now.” Beckett put the gun on the floor and kicked it away.

Eve put her knees on either side of his hips. She held herself just out of his reach and broke her last mental barriers. Then she slammed down on top of him with such force, she was sure Beckett was glad she had such impeccable aim.

Once she was committed and clearly enjoying the moment, Beckett allowed himself some breathing room. This woman seemed so hard but felt so soft. Eve was now lost to herself, letting her need rule her muscles. Beckett watched as her well-defined legs pumped at a maddening pace. She pulled him completely out of her, then slammed back down, taking him in roughly, over and over again.

Finally, she fell backward, and he reminded his hands to let go of the couch cushions and catch her by her hips. By the time he climaxed, Eve was arched and her hair touched the floor. Her face was as far away from his as it could get while still having him inside her.

They panted like this for a moment, until he realized she was too ashamed to sit back up and look at him. He’d just been at the center of her loss. He’d poisoned the only place she’d ever held her baby. Beckett looked at her long, white form. He ran his hand over a fine white scar he found just under her belly button—the scar somehow
he
had put on her body.

When she felt his hand she grabbed it. Beckett made a fist and watched her fingers on his forearm as they covered his Sorry tattoo. She maintained her grip and let him pull her up. But Eve looked to the right of his face, focusing on a mounted gun.

She let go of his arm and ran her hand through her long, tangled hair. Beckett could see the turmoil on her beautiful face. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself now. She bit her wrist and finally turned her blue eyes to him.

His eyes flared with shock when she backhanded him. Now she would empty out her anger.

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Beckett Taylor.” She flexed her fist.

Beckett’s jaw tightened. “Looks like you got that covered, gorgeous.”

Eve full-on slapped his face in the opposite direction.

Beckett raised an eyebrow as he felt himself harden inside her.

“You like that?” she demanded.

Beckett just licked his lips. No woman had ever slapped him. But she did. Eve made her fingers into a claw and played a deep, painful game of connect-the-gunshot-scars on his skin.

He moved his hips against her. She growled, which just about undid him immediately. He grabbed her throat and cut off just enough oxygen to tinge her red lips blue while pushing harder against her. She could breathe, but just barely. He knew it would make the next moment insane for her.

Beckett stuck his thumb in her parted mouth. She bit him and sucked, as he’d expected. When he finally removed his thumb, it was moist and a little bloody. He smiled as he used it to touch her right above where his whole universe was embedded. She bucked at his touch, and Beckett assaulted her senses with pleasure. He knew just how to move himself and his thumb to make her die a little bit.