Mike didn’t kill unless it was the only option. But given his current signals—flushed neck, bulging veins, wild eyes, grinding teeth, and not one but two weapons drawn—he saw only one option. Cole’s lifeless body.
This wasn’t a bluff. Mike was going to kill him.
Heedless, Cole removed his hand from between her legs and held up his soaked fingers, stretching them apart to display the thick, milky strings of her come. “She’s a gusher.”
“Mike.” Pulse racing, she clasped the hand that held the blade against Cole’s stomach. “Don’t do it. He’s baiting you.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He pushed against her grip.
“No, you’re not.” Cole slipped a sticky finger between his lips and groaned with satisfaction. “She won’t forgive you if you do. You don’t want to lose her.” He licked another digit, his eyes shutting briefly. “Goddamn, when a woman tastes this good, I imagine you’ll do anything to keep her.”
He curled his tongue around the next finger, and the next, slurping with relish.
“Stop antagonizing him.” Her hand started to sweat around Mike’s grip, battling over control of the knife.
The gun beneath Cole’s jaw was less concerning. Mike wouldn’t fire it and risk getting them arrested.
“I would’ve left some for you to taste.” Cole flicked a menacing glare over his shoulder at Mike. “But you’re dipping into this pussy every night, aren’t you? That’s why you’re itching to gut me. You don’t like to share. I get it. I don’t share, either.”
“Enough.” She pushed at Cole’s chest, attempting to upset his balance.
He jerked, and they all moved at once. She went for the knife at Cole’s stomach. Mike fought her grip, trying not to cut her as Cole swiped the stiletto from between her legs. In a blur of motion, he twisted between her and Mike. His torso tensed, flexing with the snap of his arm as he stabbed the blade toward Mike’s shoulder.
She opened her mouth to scream, the sound cutting off as the dagger sank. Blood spurted, not from Mike but from the neck of someone else. A man with black hair.
Her heart stopped. Mike spun away, and Cole stabbed the knife again, cutting through the throat. Blood spilled over his hand. The man dropped to the floor, and she stared down at a face with a crooked nose.
Vincent’s man.
Her hands trembled, her pulse thrashing in her ears, sounding out the muffled thump of the music.
Goddammit, she was smarter than this. She didn’t get distracted. She didn’t let assassins sneak up on her.
“Get out of here.” Cole wiped the stiletto on the dead man’s pants and handed it to her. “Go!”
The chatter of feminine voices sounded around the corner. People were close. A whole nightclub of people. Anyone could step into view and sound the alarms.
“Come on.” She concealed the knife beneath her dress and tugged on Mike’s clenching hand. “We need to go.”
Cole bent over the body and dragged it into a shadowed corner. She looked up, scanning the ceiling with surging panic.
“There are no cameras.” Cole met her eyes, his voice thundering with command. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Heart hammering, she held his gaze for a moment longer, and he stared back, forging the connection in fire.
They needed more time, more moments. If only he would agree to help her, if they could find a way to trust each other…
“Let’s go.” Mike gripped her elbow and led her away.
They walked straight out of the club without stopping or looking back. Outside, the summer night air wrapped around her. She didn’t breathe until they reached a less-congested part of the busy street. There, a few blocks from the nightclub, they lingered in the shadows without speaking.
Patrons milled along the stone walkways, flitting in and out of the nearby bars. The alleyways between belched a thousand unbearable stenches caused by calls of nature. She thought she might throw up, not from the rank air but from her unbearable nerves.
Huddled in a dark doorway with Mike’s arm around her, she had a direct view of the discotheque’s entrance. Her neck grew taut as she waited for the sound of sirens. Her molars clenched painfully as she waited for Cole to step outside.
Ten minutes passed.
Fifteen.
He never emerged, and the polizia never came.
“He hid the body and found another exit.” Mike clasped her hand and pulled her down the street, getting them out of there. “If he’s smart, we’ll never see him again.”
She didn’t want that, did she? Her chest constricted. “He just saved our lives.”
“If he hadn’t distracted you, you wouldn’t have needed saving.”
Good point.
Walking alongside him, she twined their fingers together and acknowledged the guilt stabbing her insides. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” He glanced at her sidelong, the anger still alive in his eyes. “What did he say to you?”
Lowering her voice, she recapped every word she’d shared with Cole. When she fell quiet, his expression darkened, and he quickened his gait.