Love Kills (Lilah Love 4)

“Take me to the airstrip,” I order, bagging my gloves. I don’t give him an address. The one Kane uses works just fine for me. “And break the fucking speed limit.”

He turns around. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to wait for Kane.”

I pull my gun and point it at him. “He has my brother, so if you think I won’t shoot you and shove you out of the way to drive, think again.”

He curses and turns around, doing what he should have done in the first place, drives. I dial Kane. He doesn’t fucking answer. “Kane, you need to call me. Please. I’m saying please. Fuck Ghost. Tell him I said so. They’re going after Andrew. Umbrella Man is going after Andrew. I’m getting a chopper to the Hamptons and taking Kit with me.” I hang up and dial Andrew again. He doesn’t answer.

I dial my father. “Lilah?” he answers. “What the hell? It’s late and—”

“Where is Andrew?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps. “He’s a man, not a boy and—”

“Listen to me, and listen carefully. Your ‘friends’ hired a killer. He’s a serial killer, not a damn assassin. You don’t control serial killers. He’s supposed to come after me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew.”

“Lilah—”

“I said listen, and you better fucking listen. This is a game to him, and he’s playing it his way. He’s going after Andrew. He might already be dead. Call Pocher, and you tell him to pull the serial killer back and do it now. If he even can. And don’t go hunting for Andrew. Stay where you are and pull your security tighter.”

He’s silent three beats. “I don’t know what this is, but I’ll call. I’ll find out what I can.” He hangs up.

He doesn’t know my ass. I dial Kane again. I dial Andrew again. No one is fucking answering. I could call the precinct and send someone to look for Andrew, but I feel like I would be sending someone to their death. Maybe I’m even triggering the moment Andrew dies. “Kit, I need one of Kane’s men in the Hamptons to—”

My phone rings, and it’s Kane. Oh God, it’s really Kane. I kind of want to cry right now. “Kane,” I answer. “Thank God.”

“I’m on my way to you. I’ll meet you at the airstrip. I’m about twenty minutes out. I already called and got a chopper.”

“I can’t wait. You know I can’t wait.”

“He wants you there, Lilah. This is a trap. You can’t go without me. You will not go without me.”

“I cannot wait for you. A few minutes could be the end of him. If he’s not already gone. And I’m only three minutes out. Don’t you have a man watching him?”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s it? Oh fuck. You can’t reach him.”

“Wait on me, Lilah. Please, beautiful. Wait.”

I can feel myself dying inside. Andrew. Not Andrew. “I can’t wait. But I love you, Kane. In all your dirty, dark, wonderful ways, I fucking love you.” I hang up.

“He’s going to kill me if I don’t stop you,” Kit says.

“I’m going to kill you if you try,” I say, declining Kane’s returned call. “So you can decide, Kit. Die now or die later.”

He curses and pulls us into the airstrip parking lot that, at this time of night, is a ghost town. I’m out of the door before he even puts it in park, holstering my weapon as I slam the door shut. I walk inside the building and into an empty waiting area. Kit joins me, and we walk to the desk. “I need the chopper you have reserved for Kane Mendez,” I tell the woman behind the counter.

The woman, a brunette with her hair pulled back so tight it looks like she could bust an eyeball, puffs up. “I’m sorry, but we have strict instructions—”

Kit groans. “Jesus, Lilah.”

I slap my badge on the counter. “FBI business. I need that chopper now.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

It’s raining again.

I sit in the chopper and watch it pound the windows. Kit is next to me, clinging to his seat and looking like he might keel over. And all I can think is that this godforsaken weather needs to just go away. How many days can a sideswipe of a late-season hurricane create this kind of downpour? Too fucking many considering Umbrella Man seems to like this shit.

I spend the duration of the flight thinking through everything that might happen on the ground. I don’t let myself think about Andrew being dead. When we finally land and I’m in the lobby of the airport, I have a voicemail from Kane: By the time you hear this, I’ll be in the air coming for you. Wait for me, woman, but since I know you aren’t going to fucking listen, there’s a car waiting on you with one of my men. Fernando’s a good man. The man guarding your brother was one of my best, too, but he’s still off-grid, which is why I sent Fernando to you. Safety in numbers. And I didn’t want to risk Fernando being the reason Umbrella Man did something he hasn’t already done. Andrew’s alive. You stay alive. I love you, Lilah. Damn it, stay alive. Kill him.

I disconnect and tell Kit, “Fernando is waiting for us.” At just that moment, a tall Hispanic man walks into the room.

“Fernando,” Kit confirms, and I’m fast to cross to his position. “Anything from your man here on the ground?”

He gives a grim shake of his head. “Nothing.”

“Because he’s dead,” I say.

His expression is grim. “He’s my brother.”

Kane had one brother guard the other. And now, he knew the two siblings fighting for their siblings would fight well together. Kane knew that would win me over, and he’s right. It does. “Then let’s go get our brothers back.”

He nods and the three of us exit to the driveaway, where a black SUV idles, light rain falling. “Go to the chief of police’s office,” I say before I run to the front of the vehicle and climb inside. Fernando follows to take the wheel while Kit settles in the back.

I dial Andrew.

No answer.

I try his desk at the chief’s office.

No answer.

I call my father back.

No fucking answer. If he warned Umbrella Man I’m coming, I might kill him myself.

Fernando doesn’t ask me for an address, but five minutes later, we’re at the station where four cars are parked and the lights are on, too many cars for this time of night. One of the cars is my brother’s. “That’s Andrew’s car.”

“That means my brother is here,” Fernando says, glancing at me. “Because we never desert those we protect. That’s Kane’s rule. Kane is good to me,” he adds. “You don’t die today.” He pulls up his hood and starts to get out.

I catch his arm. “Don’t be a hero. Follow my lead.”

“We’re not going in the front door.”

“We’re at the front door. He knows we’re here. The best way to take him off guard is that I go through the front.”

“I’m going through the front with you,” Kit says. “The end.”

“I’ve got the rear,” Fernando says, and I nod my approval. If Kit is with me, Umbrella Man may not expect Fernando.

I yank my hood into place and exit into the rain, my hand settling under my rain jacket to rest on my weapon. Kit is by my side at the front of the vehicle, and we wait for Fernando to make it around the building before we start walking toward the door.

Once we’re there, out of the line of view of the windows, Kit pulls his weapon. I reach for the door, and he comes over my shoulder to aim. Kane’s men are better than half the law enforcement I’ve worked with. I open the door and listen. There are four cars outside and not one voice. Not one sound of movement.

I pull my weapon and force myself to mentally settle into my zone. I am not Andrew’s sister right now. I’m an FBI agent. I enter the building, which forces me into a narrow hallway. I ease forward, stepping lightly, and glance in the office around the corner. Ralph Norton is face down on his desk. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I fight the urge to call out to Andrew. I fight the urge to run forward and just find him now. I hold up a hand at Kit and then glance back and motion to the office, p

ointing my finger at my head to tell him what’s going on.

His jaw sets, and he nods. I move forward again and motion for him to check the man down. He slips away behind me. I bring a galley of offices into view. There are three dead officers, one leaning back in a chair with a bullet in his forehead. Another face forward on a desk. One on the floor. None, I realize, are Andrew, and I feel no guilt for my relief.