Chapter 3 A kiss before death
Isabella POV
His blue eyes were vicious steady, fearless, and devoid of mercy. Death didn’t threaten him. If anything, he welcomed it. He pressed the accelerator harder, the van vibrating like it was seconds from launching off the icy road.
“Let go,” he warned, voice low and lethal, “or we both die.”
He meant it. And death would defeat the entire purpose of whatever he wanted from me. I released his arm and sank back into my seat. Only then did he ease up on the gas.
He slowed just before the bend, turning the van smoothly through the curve, regaining full control like the near crash never happened. We rolled forward again, the snowbanks tall on either side of the abandoned winter road.
I leaned my forehead against the frozen window and exhaled shakily. “Fuck.”
“I admire that you’re brave,” he said calmly. “I don’t admire that you’re stupid.”
I didn’t bother looking at him. “Let me go. I won’t breathe a word to my family. We’ll pretend this never happened. You don’t want this. If they find out you killed me, they’ll hunt you until you’re gone. And they’ll take your whole family down with you.”
“Well,” he said, voice flat, “they already killed my family. So that’s one thing off their to do list.”
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
He didn’t even blink. “And I don’t care if they come for me. Gives me a chance to finish killing the rest of them. Letting you go isn’t an option. I want them to know I killed you. I want them to feel it. Letting you go would rob me of my revenge. Trust me I’m going to kill you. I just need to make it worth it.” “But you found me by accident.”
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Was it an accident?”
A shiver shot down my spine. “What did my family ever do to you? They’re peaceful. You must be”
“I’m not confused.”
He turned onto a rough, narrow road, the tires crunching sharply over the frozen ground as we approached the lake. In summer, this place was filled with tourists. Now, in the dead of winter, it was deserted.
No witnesses, no help and chance.
“What about the man in the back?” I asked quietly. “Was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“I wouldn’t worry about him,” he said. “You’re still breathing, so you should be worrying about yourself.” He killed the engine and got out.
My chest tightened. Panic clawed its way up my throat. For the first time, I truly felt death closing in. My family, my parents, my brother they’d never recover from losing me. Their grief would be far worse than whatever he did to my body. Think, Isabella, think.
He opened the rear doors and dragged out the other man’s corpse. My stomach twisted. “What are you doing?”
“Throwing him into the lake.”
He pulled the body across the snow, heading toward the pier.
The keys were in his pocket. No escape but I yanked open the panel under the steering wheel anyway and stared at a maze of wires. I had no idea what I was doing. So I ripped them all out.
If he killed me, maybe the van wouldn’t start again. Maybe he’d freeze to death out here and that was good.
As I leaned over, I noticed something metal under his seat. I glanced outside he was almost at the end of the pier. I grabbed the object and it was a gun.
A real fucking gun, I checked the chamber just one round, I couldn’t miss.
He kicked the body into the lake and began heading back. My hands trembled from adrenaline and fear, but I forced myself to breathe. To focus, I slipped out of the van quietly, the gun hidden at my side.
He was massive six three at least, all muscle and power. His blue eyes locked on me like he already knew my fate. “Your turn, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.” I lifted the gun and fired.
The bullet caught him in the shoulder, not the heart, he barely flinched.
His face didn’t change. Not pain or fear. Nothing. A tiny jerk of his body, and that was like he’d just gotten a vaccine shot.
Then his expression shifted into something darker, possessive and territorial hungry. His chest rose with a sharp breath, adrenaline spiking. He didn’t reach for his gun.
Instead, he charged.
I lifted the weapon to hit him, but he seized my wrist mid air and slammed it against the van, then forced me to drop the gun. It hit the snow as he pinned me.
His hand yanked my hair, then his mouth crashed onto mine. He kissed me.
Aggressively and desperately. Like he’d been fighting the urge since the minute he took me. His body pressed into mine, heat trapping me between him and the cold metal of the van. His breath filled my lungs. The world went silent except for the pounding of my pulse.
His mouth moved over mine like he owned every part of me. He kissed me like no man ever had bold, consuming, hungry. His erection pressed against me, thick and hard.
He was a monster and somehow, even knowing that I kissed him back.
His blood warmed my fingers as it dripped from his jacket to mine. He was bleeding badly, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. He kissed me harder, like the pain fueled him.
His tongue found mine, coaxing no, demanding a response I couldn’t fight. The kiss was scorching, dangerous and electric.
Then he pulled away abruptly, leaving my lips cold and my breath unsteady. “Get in the van.”
He grabbed the empty gun, climbed in, and started the engine like nothing had happened.
I stayed frozen against the door, trying to process the insanity of what just occurred. I tried to kill him and he kissed me.
The horn blared, I jolted, scrambled into the passenger seat, and buckled up. “Does that mean you aren’t going to kill me?”
He pulled onto the main road, turning in a direction we hadn’t come from.
“Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”