Love Me Dead (Lilah Love 3)

“Guess who?” he says, planting himself in front of me and then immediately glancing at Kane. “Kane Mendez.” He offers Kane his hand. “Chief Houston. I’m the new kid on the block who was forced to come tonight.”

Kane stares at him. That’s all. Just stares. He doesn’t reach for his hand. He’s so damn cold; it’s really quite an impressively icy showing. Houston bristles awkwardly, and I barely contain a laugh but I put him out of his misery.

“He works for Murphy,” I tell Kane. “He might be okay. I haven’t decided yet.”

Houston gives me a “what the fuck” look. “Was that supposed to help my case?” He meets Kane’s stare and lowers his voice. “I’m a friend, and you need friends like me.”

“I don’t have friends,” Kane says. “What do you need from me?”

“Ouch.” He drops his hand and tugs at the lapels of his tux. “And I thought this thing was torture. I’ll try another time.” He glances at me. “You see the press conference?”

“Your text was enough. He wrote Detective Williams’ death wish. He’ll regret it. Unfortunately, she won’t. She’ll be dead.”

His expression tightens. “I know. I hate this shit and then they made me come to this.”

“Who made you?” Kane asks.

“Murphy. He said Lilah might need me.”

“I didn’t tell Murphy I’d be here,” I snap.

“Don’t give him too much magical power,” Houston says. “It’s in the promo material for tonight. The future Governor Love with his son and daughter by his side.”

“Why would she need you?” Kane asks, still on the topic of Murphy sending Houston to the party.

“I think it’s more about me earning acceptance,” Houston says. “He doesn’t want me to seem like their enemy.”

I read between the lines considering “he” is Murphy. He means Pocher and his Society.

“High alert, baby, is all I can say to you, boy” he says. “High alert. Hoping we don’t find Williams tonight in all the wrong ways. Anyway, let me go pretend I like these people and get out of here.” He fades into the crowd.

I step in front of Kane. “You don’t like him.”

“Aside from the fact that he called us both baby, I don’t like anyone in this room, but you. And this game Director Murphy is playing is not sitting well.”

“About that and him—”

“There she is.” My brother’s voice is followed by his hands on my shoulders and him turning me to face him. “I knew you’d make it.”

“Andrew. You’re touching me.”

“You’re my sister,” he says, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, because he knows I hate when anyone touches me, well, except for Kane. “I can touch you.”

“When we were ten, and even then, a hug was generally followed by a punch. I punch harder now.” Andrew’s gaze lifts over my shoulder to Kane, a crackle of tension in the air. He invited Kane, but just two weeks ago, he and Rich worked hard to try to take Kane down, to prove him a criminal.

I twist around to stand with them on either side of me. “You both asked for this tonight.”

Andrew runs a hand through his blond hair and curses. “It’s awkward right? But we’ll get by it.” He offers Kane his hand. “Truce.”

Kane doesn’t even think about lifting his hand. “I got her here,” Kane says. “That’s all the truce you get.”

“Jesus,” I murmur. “Okay. Well. Now what, you two?”

“For me and Kane,” Andrew says , “apparently there will be no hand shaking. For you and me, Dad wants us with him when he speaks in about fifteen minutes,” Andrew says, but he’s still looking at Kane. “I love her, man. We both know you’re into some shit, but I know you protect her, too. I’ve been thinking about that shit. You know that has value. And you’re why she’s here—at this party and here, in New York. That’s all.” He looks at me. “We’ll call for you over the intercom.” He disappears into the crowd.

I step in front of Kane again and just look at him. “What do you want me to say, Lilah?”

“Nothing. I get it. All of it.”

He downs his champagne and sets his glass on a passing waiter’s tray before catching my hip and walking me closer. “You want me to make peace with him.”

“No.”

His hands come down on my arms. “I will. For you. Anything for you.”

My cold, bitter heart warms for this man.

“Lilah Love and Kane Mendez.”

At the sound of Pocher’s voice, my heart goes cold again. I grind my teeth. Kane pulls me around, his arm around me, his hand settling at my hip possessively. Pocher steps directly in front of us, a tall, thin man with salt and pepper hair. His tuxedo is expensive, but then he’s a billionaire political machine, so why wouldn’t it be?

“Pocher,” Kane greets.

Pocher gives me a once over. “As I said, you remind me of your mother.”

It’s not a compliment. It’s a threat. My mother is dead, and I believe that’s because she got in his way. “And you, I hear,” I say, “resemble your bother. How is he after his return from that nasty cartel? Thank God, Kane was able to help you get him back.”

Kane’s fingers flex on my hip, and it’s not a warning, it’s approval. “Yes,” Kane joins in. “How is he? Is he safe now?”

And that, my friends, is a subtle, but lethal threat from Kane Mendez delivered with a whip of confidence that bites.

Pocher responds instantly. His gaze jerks to Kane’s, and he lowers his voice. “I made a deal. I’m keeping the deal. Leave my brother out of this.” There is something akin to desperation in his voice. He’s afraid of Kane, really damn afraid. What the hell did Kane have done to his brother? “You could have let him keep his finger.”

“Oh fuck,” I murmur.

“Yes, Agent Love. Oh, fuck.”

“I saved him,” Kane says. “I had nothing to do with what the men who kidnapped him did to him. And saving him didn’t come without a price. I had to make deals. I had to call in favors. ]I had to spend money and shed blood. This caused me the kind of trouble that will come back to you if you come back at Lilah.”

“Lilah is safe.” He looks at me. “I do things for the greater good. Your father in office is for the greater good. You can help. I suggest you do.” He looks at Kane. “We’re powerful, Kane Mendez. Don’t underestimate us.” His attention flicks to me again. “Five minutes until the announcements. Be at the front of the room.” He leaves, but the threat he just issued stays right here with us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Kane and I rotate to each other. “They took his finger?” I ask. “I saw him after he returned. I didn’t even notice.”

“They did.” His lips quirk. “And as to that, at least they didn’t kill him.”

It’s a reference to my father telling me at least Pocher didn’t kill me. He just had me raped. “You knew.”

“I told you, Lilah. I know what he did to you now, and he will pay.”

The punch between us with those words is hard and intense. And it’s all there. My rape. Me killing that man. Him burying the body. Our time apart. “Kane—”

“I will never let you down again, Lilah, and he knows that now. My only regret is that it wasn’t his finger, but now he gets to wonder what I might take from him.”

If Kane Mendez said that about me, even I would be scared. There are things I want to say to him, so many things, but not here. “Are you worried about his threat?”

“No. And me being here tonight by your side tells him that. I told you. I build allies. We both agreed tonight that I’m not letting that fall apart.” He takes my hand. “Let’s move to the front and try to get your reunion with your father over with.”

We weave through the crowd, and as we reach the front of the room, I spy my father in conversation with someone I do not expect. He’s in deep conversation with Roger.

“Is that expected?” Kane

asks.

“No. No, I didn’t even know he’d be here.”

“Murphy again?”

“If it’s Murphy,” I glance up at him, “we might have to make it without my badge.”

“Or we do it without Murphy.”

“Or that.”

I glance toward Roger again, and this time, he catches us in his line of sight, motioning us forward.

Kane repositions us and places himself directly in front of Roger. I don’t miss that move. I doubt Roger does either. “There she is,” Roger greets. “Looking like your mother indeed. I was just telling your father what an honor it was to work with you.” His gaze shifts to Kane. “The man and the mystery right here in front of me.”

My father and I look at each other. He looks good, younger than his fifty-seven years, his blond hair more gray now. Ironically, he’s the one Andrew got his blond hair from. My mother was a brunette. “Hug your father,” he orders softly. “People are watching.”

“And I should do what people expect?”

“Yes, Lilah. You should.”

My jaw sets. “I don’t think I will.”