Bloody Vows (Lilah Love #5) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,1

to end when I put this ring on my finger. “Of course. You can handle him. King Kane.”


“Do not tell me I wear a badge, Kane, which makes this yours to handle, because I swear to you that if you do, I will lose my shit. Honesty no matter what the cost,” I add, repeating our vow to each other.

He grabs my jacket and pulls me to him. “Careful what you demand, beautiful. You might not like the results.”

“You promised me.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” I challenge but I don’t give him time to reply. “No more secrets, Kane.”

His eyes darken, a tic in his jaw.

My cellphone rings. “That will be Murphy again,” I say. “Obviously we now know why he was calling me. I have to take it.”

His expression tightens and he releases me, and he does so a little too easily. He doesn’t like this conversation. He never does.

I’m angry with him and like the perfect adult I am, I give him my back glance at caller ID and confirm my caller before I answer with, “Director Murphy. How did we not know this?”

“A man with money and power can make a lot of things happen. Speaking of, does Kane know?”

The question almost certainly confirms what Kane has been telling me all along. Murphy, a high-ranking member of the FBI, supports my relationship with Kane, someone the FBI has long tried to prove is a criminal as was his father, with motive. He sees Kane’s power and influence as a weapon to use against the Society. “Kane doesn’t work for your task force, Director,” I say offering nothing more.

“Of course not,” Murphy says dryly. “And as for what comes next. Death was too good for that man. We’ll make him pay for his sins.”

“Is that your grown-up Christmas list or do you have a plan?”

“A question for after the holiday. Happy Thanksgiving, Special Agent Love.” And with that, the asshole hangs up.

I rotate to face Kane, who hasn’t moved, the very stubbornness of his position in denial of any withdrawal on his part. He never gave up on me. Ever. And when he put this ring on my finger and I said yes to marrying him, I made a decision to do the same with him. I’m still pissed at him but to hell with fighting. I step into him. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can be alone where we can fight this out properly, and I can win just as properly.”

His eyes darken with approval and his arm slides around me as we head to the chopper.

Soon we’ll be in the Hamptons, and no doubt, so will Pocher.


Kane settles into the chopper seat next to me and I don’t miss the flex of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, that has nothing to do with our tense words. It’s about pain that he would voice, the result of the wounds created by the two blades shoved into his shoulders by Roger, meant to paralyze his arms, still only a week old. He yanks his seatbelt across his chest and I catch it and insert it for him. I might still be fuming a bit over our conversations, but I will protect him. I would kill for him. And we both know it. I used to think the problem for us was his ability to kill for me. Now I lean toward my ability to kill in general being a problem. The fact that it often doesn’t feel like a problem is an even bigger problem.

That part of me, the killer I’ve believed I could be since that night on the beach years ago, is becoming colder and more comfortable, freer. That’s exactly why I lean in and press my lips to Kane’s. I need to feel something. I need to be human right now. He cups my head and kisses me the way only Kane can kiss me, and thank God, emotion stirs inside me, all the emotions a girl should feel when a man like Kane Mendez kisses her. He pulls back and stares down at me, knowledge in his eyes. He knows me. He knows what I’m battling but he hasn’t forced me to talk. I’m back to him knowing me. I need conversation like I need a hole in my head right now.

And when the kiss is over, and he’s firmly reminded me that yes, I am still human, I do still have emotions, he settles back in his seat.