Love Me Dead (Lilah Love 3)

“Or it could be someone who’s followed my career and me. Maybe even someone in law enforcement.” I stand up and face Kane, folding my arms and the robe in front of me. “But what if it’s not about me? What if it’s about Roger? I’m his protégé. They used him to get to me. Maybe this is ultimately about him.”

“Why would you go to Roger on this?” he asks. “What don’t I know?”

I tell him everything about the call, the cigarettes disappearing, the way Beth was called to the case just as I was. “Damn it! I didn’t even find out who called her. I need to know how Beth got there.” I grab my phone from the nightstand.

He catches my wrist, standing up and walking me to him. “I missed watching you work.”

In that moment, I’m a million pieces of a puzzle that Kane has the power to complete or tear apart. I don’t know how to respond besides honestly. “If I let you, Kane, too easily, you will own me and my life again.”

“If anyone owns someone, Lilah, it’s you owning me.”

“No. You will always have secrets. You will always have a world outside of my world.”

“Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. Didn’t I prove that by telling you how I intend to handle the Society?”

“I missed you, Kane. I missed you more than I never wanted to miss you, but—”

“Don’t tell me to walk away, Lilah. I told you. I won’t do that again.”

“The agency wants to take you down, Kane. They believe that you’re your father. My job—”

“Murphy knows who I am to you, and he still put you on this task force. Did you ever consider that one of the reasons is me?”

I blink. “What?”

“He knows he can push your limits, and you can push the Society because I’ll keep you alive.”

My defenses flare. “I keep me alive, Kane. I do.”

“We do. We, Lilah.”

My cellphone rings in my hand, and I glance down at it, but so does Kane, and Lord help me, it’s Rich with his shitty timing. Rich, who was just here, trying to get me back and to take down Kane. Kane’s jaw clenches. “Get rid of him, or I swear to God, Lilah, I will.”

“Because you’re not your father, right?”

You don’t bait Kane Mendez, and he proves that now. He drags me to him, that lethal quality about him that calls to me far too easily, burning through me. “Get rid of him, Lilah.” He releases me and walks out of the bedroom.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

And the man wonders why I keep pulling my gun on him. I want to grab it and shoot him right now all over again.

My cellphone rings again, and I curse, glancing at the caller ID, and of course, it’s Rich. Again. He’s supposed to be in fucking Paris, off the grid. What the hell is going on? The man doesn’t learn. He just can’t take a hint. I told him to back off, and Murphy promised me that he’d leash Rich. Murphy knew I was protecting Rich from Kane. And Kane’s right. Murphy does know who and what he is, and all my suspicions about the many ways that Murphy is more than he seems come back to me.

Rich calls back, and I decline the call. I need to talk to Murphy before I talk to Rich. Right now, I move to the other point my game planning session with Kane brought to light about how Beth got to the scene last night. I dial Beth. “How did you get the call to the scene last night?”

“My supervisor. She just said I was requested by name.”

“By who?”

“She didn’t say.” I can almost see her brow furrow in worry. “Where are you going with this?”

“Find out and call me. And text me your supervisor’s name and the exact time of the call.”

“Lilah,” she presses. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m fact finding right now,” I say. “Get me the information. I’ll see you soon.” I disconnect, and call Murphy who doesn’t answer. I call Tic Tac. He doesn’t answer. My phone is now ringing; it won’t stop fucking ringing, and it won’t stop ringing with Rich on the other end. I hit decline and walk to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and contemplate a trip to the Hamptons to grab some more of my things. I’m not going to LA for what I left behind there. I’m done there. I’m here now, and I won’t be leaving again. The Society will not get rid of me. I let them run me away once before. Never again.

I step into the shower, and damn it, I flash back to that night again, standing under the water, blood pouring off of me, pooling at my feet, and washing into the drain. I have a flash of Kane grabbing my attacker, of me grabbing his knife. I pant out a breath, and suddenly, Kane is there, pulling me close, and I don’t even remember him entering the shower.

“They made me a killer,” I say. “They have to live with what that means.” I shove him against the wall. “And you don’t save me. I save me. I don’t need your fucking protection, Kane. I don’t need you to do my dirty work for me.”

He catches me at my neck and turns me into the corner. “Except that I do. The middle, Lilah. We hold onto each other and stay in the middle.” He kisses me, and I swear what happens between us in the next few minutes is about how badly I don’t want to be in the middle. It’s about how badly I want to be just like him. It’s about how badly I want to hurt the people who had me raped and killed my mother.

When we’re finally out of the shower and I’m dressed in jeans and a T-shirt as well as sneakers, Kane has disappeared somewhere in my apartment while I dry my hair. I glance at my phone to find several text messages. The first from Tic Tac: See your inbox. Notice that I didn’t call for fear you’re asleep. I’m setting an example for you on this.

The next is Beth giving me her supervisor’s name and she went one step further. She called her and asked who requested her at the crime scene. The answer: Roger. Of course. I send the info to Tic Tac and ask him the find out who called Beth’s supervisor last night. The answer is fast. He already knows. The same number that called Murphy called Beth’s supervisor. Umbrella Man was responsible for getting me and Beth to the crime scene. It was assumed but now confirmed.

I start my blow dryer, and turn it off with yet another text.

This one is from Rich: Damn it, Lilah. You could have picked up. I’m in Europe, and I have to go silent, undercover. You won’t hear from me for a while, but I know you made this happen. I know he made this happen, but this isn’t over. I’m coming back. I’m coming for you.

Kane returns and sets a cup of Starbucks coffee next to me on the bathroom sink. He also sets the note I’d received from Junior with my pizza last night next to it. Junior being the crazy person who’s been leaving me warning notes since I returned to New York; he’s nicknamed for the Stephen King-like mystery and drama that doesn’t quite reach King’s superior delivery.

I grab the note and read it once again:

M is for Miss me? I missed you.

D is for Disappointed. He’s not for you. This city is not for you.

S is for sorry. You are going to be so so so so so so so sorry.

W is for warning. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I set it back down. The “he” is Kane. Junior has made that abundantly clear in the past.

“Obviously Junior isn’t going to go away without some encouragement,” Kane comments, looking less than pleased, which is about so much more than my safety. Junior’s previous notes seem to indicate knowledge of a certain buried body.

“Seems that way,” I say. “And like so many people, Junior really hates you. It came with my pizza last night.”

“Right before you got called to the crime scene?” he asks, ignoring my snarky remark.

I turn to him. “Yes. Right before I got called to the crime scene.” I grab the note, look at it and then him. “You think it’s related?” I don’t give him time to answer. “It could be related.” I glance at him. “If Junior’s the Umbrella Man, Kane, you’re in danger.”

His lips quirk. “We can only hope this asshole comes for me.”

“You are not inv

incible because you’re Kane fucking Mendez. You know that, right? You bleed just like everyone else.”

“Worried about me, Lilah?”

“Yes. I’m worried about you. There? Are you fucking happy? I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to die unless I kill you. That’s not a secret.” His lips curve into a smile, and I growl under my breath. “You’re not listening to me.”

My phone buzzes with a text from Beth: Where are you?

“I’ll give you a ride,” Kane says, “and before you resist,” he picks up the note and shows it to me, “are you going to do what Junior says and stay away from me? Because that reads like fear to me and fear makes you look like you’re weak. It makes you look like prey.”

I snatch the letter from him. “You’re a manipulative bastard, Kane Mendez.” I set the note on the counter and grab my Starbucks coffee, that cup proof of his manipulative skills. “Let’s go.” I start to pass him and stop. “Rich is in Paris, where he’s going dark. He won’t be around for you to kill, and at the rate you’re going, someone, me most likely, will kill you before he gets the chance to try.” Now I walk past him and his low, accented laugh follows.

God, how I both love and hate this man in the very same moment.

We head downstairs and I pull on my rain jacket. Kane steps behind me and helps me settle it around me. I grab my badge that I left in the pocket and turn to face him, holding it in my hand. We stare at each other for several beats. “Put it on, Lilah,” he urges.

I put it on.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It’s all about the blood.

That’s what this case is going to come down to. And that’s also why I don’t comment on Kane’s brand spanking new silver 911 Porsche. I don’t give a shit what he drives. The truth I won’t admit to anyone, even Kane himself, is that I don’t really give a shit who he kills or doesn’t kill. It’s an easy perspective to have while on the way to the morgue; though, there’s a reason why I took a nap there last night. Dead people don’t bother me. It’s the living who get on my last fucking nerve.

Thanks to weather, the traffic is more hellish than usual, and I have time to look through the data Tic Tac sent me, including basics on this new man in Beth’s life. There’s nothing he’s given me that helps me, so I try to call Murphy again. “The bastard and his ‘communication is golden’ lectures hold no water,” I complain when I get his voicemail again. “He’s a damn hypocrite. He won’t return my calls.”