Wire - (Wrong #3) Read online

  Wire

  Wrong Series Book Three

  Stevie J. Cole

  LP Lovell

  Contents

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  1. Jude

  2. Tor

  3. Jude

  4. Tor

  5. Jude

  6. Tor

  7. Jude

  8. Tor

  9. Jude

  10. Tor

  11. Tor

  12. Jude

  13. Tor

  14. Jude

  15. Tor

  16. Jude

  17. Tor

  18. Jude

  19. Tor

  20. Jude

  21. Tor

  22. Jude

  23. Tor

  24. Jude

  25. Jude

  26. Tor

  27. Jude

  28. Jude

  29. Tor

  30. Tor

  31. Jude

  32. Tor

  33. Jude

  34. Tor

  35. Jude

  36. Tor

  37. Jude

  38. Tor

  39. Jude

  40. Tor

  41. Jude

  Epilogue

  War

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2017 by Lovell and Cole Books, LLC

  All rights reserved

  This book is an original work of fiction. All of the names, characters, sponsors, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual events, incidences, persons, deceased or living, is strictly coincidental.

  Any opinions expressed in this book or solely those of the authors.

  Wire

  Copyright ©2017 by Lovell and Cole Books, LLC

  Published in the United States of America

  Ebooks are non-transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the author.

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  1

  Jude

  I stand at the edge of the porch, staring at the man’s body sprawled across the ground. A metal fence post is rammed through the middle of his chest and blood is spilling out onto the white sand. All I can do is shake my fucking head. "What the fuck, Gabriel?" I glance up at him. There’s blood splattered on his tan face and his white shirt is drenched in it.

  He shrugs. "What would you like me to do, gringo? Just stand there and let him gut me?" He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated breath.

  I pull a cigarette from my pocket and light it. "Fucking hell. Don't bring your shit to my island, how about?" I blow a stream of smoke from my lips still staring at the poor bastard bleeding out in the sand.

  "I did not bring him. He came by himself. You think I want him here? I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle putting the fucker down." He raises his arm, working it in circles.

  I walk over and grab the post, yanking it out of the guy’s rib cage and tossing it into the shrubbery. "Tore my fucking fence up." I point at him. "I'm taking that off your next bill, Gabe. Tor likes that damn fence," I mumble.

  "Would you like me to kill him with my bare hands like a savage?" he asks, folding his arms over his bloodstained shirt.

  "You’re a cartel boss, Gabriel, don't act like you're all refined or some shit." I shake my head before I toss my half-smoked cigarette to the ground.

  He glances at his cuff. “Puta merida. This shirt was new." He shakes his head.

  "Help me get this shit outta here before Tor sees it. Jesus fucking Christ, you ain't seen shit until you’ve seen that woman pissed..."

  He grins. "Tor likes me."

  "Yeah, sure she does until she sees the dead fucking—" I glance up at him, "what is he? A fucking cartel member?"

  "Eh, he's one of Lopez's guys."

  "A motherfucking Sinaloa cartel member? Damn it, Gabriel." I drag my hands through my hair, half tempted to knock his teeth down his fucking throat. My jaw ticks as I stare at him.

  Gabriel's been my business partner since I moved to the island. And even though he’s somehow ended up being my friend, I swear to god, if he wasn't the leader of the Juárez cartel, I'd slit his throat for some of the stupid stunts he pulls.

  Gabriel rolls his eyes. "I already made a call. He'll be dead by tomorrow. You worry too much."

  "Who will be dead? Fucking Lopez?" I groan. "Please, can we leave my name out of this shit? It's not enough you rammed my fucking fence post through his heart.” I walk over and grab the dead man's arms. "Get your Columbian ass over here and help me."

  He slaps me on the shoulder. "You need a drink, mi amigo." He picks up the guy’s ankles and a look of disgust crosses his face.

  I hear the back door open and shut, and my eyes go wide. "Fuck, Gabriel," I whisper. "See...you motherfuck—"

  "Jude?" Tor shouts from the back deck.

  "Help me," I whisper in a panic. Gabriel helps me lift the guy, but I can hear Tor coming down the steps. Shit. I glance at Gabriel and we nod. "Ready?” I say. “One." We swing his limp body. "Two....Three." We let go and he lands in the bushes a few feet away, the toe of his shiny dress shoe sticking out from the leaves of the hydrangea.

  Tor rounds the corner, her eyes shifting from me to Gabriel then narrowing.

  "Tor," Gabriel says. "Looking beautiful as always." He flashes her a blinding smile and she glances accusingly at me.

  "What's going on?” she asks. “Why are you lurking in the garden with Gabriel?"

  "Just talking."

  "Really?" she says, lifting an eyebrow.

  "Yeah, about ponies," I say, and Gabriel stifles a laugh.

  Her gaze slowly drifts to him and his bloody shirt. "Killing ponies?"

  "Uh..." I start.

  She places her hands on her hips. "You have blood all over you!" she says, glaring at Gabriel. "Both of you! What did you do?" She looks around. "And where is my fence post?"

  I scowl at Gabriel out of the corner of my eye. That bastard's going pay for this shit. She steps to where the missing post is, right next to the damn bush. Her shoulders tense and she gasps.

  "Fuck," I mumble, dragging my hand over my face.

  "Jude," she says calmly before spinning around to face me. "Why is there a dead man in my bushes?"

  "There just…fucking is, Tor."

  "Jesus..." she sighs. "You!" She points at Gabriel, and I swear he fucking flinches. "Don't you be bringing your shit to my house."

  He sighs. "I didn't bring him." I shake my head at him because she's going to lose her shit.

  "Well then who did? Bloody Santa Claus?" Damn, I love that woman. "I swear, I will kill you, Gabriel. My daughter is in that house!" She steps toward him and he takes a step back, glancing down at her tiny frame. "You owe me a
fence post." She turns around and walks back to the house. "And get rid of that fucking body, Jude! You've got thirty minutes before dinner is ready.”

  Gabriel turns to me, a smirk on his face as he adjusts himself. I glare at him. "I can't help it," he shrugs. "That's a woman."

  "That she fucking is."

  2

  Tor

  "Here's the potatoes," Marney says, placing the bowl in the middle of the table before he takes a seat. Cayla wiggles on my hip as I unlock the tray to her high chair.

  "Thanks, Marney."

  He winks and grabs Cayla's foot, tickling it as I place her in her seat. She jumps when the back door bangs open. Jude and Gabriel come waltzing through thick as thieves. I glare at them and shake my head. "No bloody clothes at the table." And I point them toward the hall. This is what it is to be with Jude, to love him. As long as he cleans up his mess and doesn't bring it into the house, I don't care. I can’t.

  Marney chuckles to himself as he grabs a napkin and places it over his lap. A few moments later, the guys come back to the dining room in clean shirts and take a seat.

  "It smells delicioso," Gabriel says, grinning. Always the charmer, that one.

  Gabriel is Colombian, complete with the tan, the dark hair and exotic jade-green eyes. And with his expensive suits and the air of authority he wears so well...he screams of money. Dirty money, granted, but I know better than most the draw of a bad boy. He has a house on the island and comes to visit—or escape Juárez City—once every couple of months. I know he's into some dodgy shit with the cartel, and Jude launders his money, which I’m not all too pleased with, but this is the first time Gabriel's job has ever followed him to the island. Regardless, it’s hard not to like Gabe—when he's not killing random men in my garden.

  I sit next to Cayla and cut up her steak. "So, did you get rid of your little friend?" I ask.

  Jude grabs a roll from the middle of the table and grins as he takes a bite. "Yep."

  "Just cut it up and threw it in the ocean for the fish," Gabriel says. "Not my choice, but Jude was in a hurry."

  "Lovely." I clear my throat, placing the steak and potatoes on Cayla's tray. She grabs a handful and shoves it in her face, making a complete mess. "How long are you staying on the island this time, Gabe?"

  "Eh," he shrugs, "I don't know."

  "And will any more of your friends be paying a visit to my front garden? You know, just in case I need to stock up on fence posts."

  Laughing, he unfolds his napkin. "I hope not." He closes his eyes and holds his hands out, attempting to take one of Jude's. Jude glares at him and Gabriel shrugs, taking Cayla's hand instead. Here we go..."Let us pray."

  I stare at him. "Do not make me throw something at you, Gabriel," I say.

  "I do not eat food that has not been blessed," he says and arches a brow at me.

  "Oh fuck me," Jude grumbles, wiping a hand over his face before he stares at me.

  Leaning forward, I narrow my eyes at Gabriel. "So, you can't eat food without praying, but you can kill a guy and all is good? I think you and the Big Man might need to have a word."

  He shrugs. "I don't make the rules."

  "Clearly," Jude says, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips.

  We all sit, watching as Gabriel says a prayer in Spanish. When he opens his eyes, he shakes his head. "Your soul is not mine to worry for,” he says, then shovels a forkful of meat into his mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head as he chews. "So good. Is your sister still married?" He winks.

  Bloody Gabriel.

  "I'll fix your fence, doll," Jude says, flashing me a small smile that makes my heart stutter. Damn, these two.

  I roll my eyes. "Shit like this only happens when you're around, Gabriel," I say.

  He grins. "I make your life exciting, no?"

  "Your idea of excitement and my idea of excitement are very different." I turn to Cayla, wiping her hands and face with a paper towel. She makes a pitiful attempt to fight me off, whining and fussing. "You are a grot," I tell her, cleaning bits of potato from her hair.

  "I heard it's your birthday tomorrow, little señorita," Gabriel says to Cayla and she grins at him. God, even she's charmed by him. "I have a surprise for you."

  "I don't even want to know," I sigh.

  ***break***

  I kiss Cayla's forehead, smiling at her peaceful little face as she sleeps. Her white-blonde hair is sticking up everywhere and she’s sprawled out like a starfish. The front door slams and I flinch from the sudden sound. Cayla wiggles on her bed, but doesn’t wake.

  I leave her room, pulling the door to just as Jude reaches the top of the stairs. Stumbling a little, he grabs the bottom of his shirt and tugs the material over his head as he approaches me. My eyes can’t help but drift down to those sexy V-lines of his that seductively dip below the waist of his jeans.

  "Did you have fun?" I ask, keeping my voice down.

  His fingers skim along my waist as he leans in and presses a kiss to my throat. "Not as much fun as I'm about to fucking have." His teeth graze my skin and he inhales along my neck. "Fuck, you smell so good," he mumbles.

  "And you smell of whisky," I say. Whisky and cigarettes with the slight metallic twang of blood. In another lifetime, it would have bothered me, but that girl disappeared a long time ago.

  "Hmm," he breathes against my skin and I tilt my head to the side allowing him more access. "You're fucking hot when you're mad."

  "Where's Gabriel?" I ask.

  Jude’s hand runs down the front of my shirt, slowly sinking between my thighs. He grabs between my legs and groans before he slams me against the wall.

  "Gabe went to some bar fly's house," he says before kissing me brutally.

  Over two years with him and his kisses still make me weak. He claws at my shirt, ripping my shorts down my legs as he backs me toward our room. "You think you can just charm your way into my knickers after that shit you pulled earlier?" I ask between his hard kisses.

  His hand winds around my throat, his fingers flinching in both a warning and a promise. "You'll fuck me anywhere. Anyway. Any fucking time, doll."

  He pulls on my neck, yanking me toward him before he shoves me into our room and releases my throat. His massive arms wrap around me, hauling me against his body. His hot skin presses against mine when he grips my thighs and picks me up. I hook my legs around his waist and he walks across the room, making me feel small and delicate against his massive body as his kisses burn a trail down the side of my neck.

  He throws me down on the bed, standing over me as he strips down. I never get over how beautiful he is. How dark and dangerous. Tattoos wind over his tanned skin, each muscle flexing underneath the dark ink as he moves. Jude is my twisted version of happily ever after, my bloodstained prince in a sea of violence and revenge.

  My body heats as his hungry eyes rake over me, his gaze locking between my legs before he grabs my hips and flips me over onto my stomach. He lifts my ass, pressing down on the small of my back as he leans over me and slams inside me, forcing a moan from my lips.

  "Fuck, your pussy always feels so damn good," he says with a groan. His hand glides along my spine creating a perfect bow before he fists my hair and yanks my head to the side to crush his lips over mine in an angry kiss. "Do you know how fucking good you feel?" he breathes against my mouth.

  I wind my hand around the back of his neck and push back against him. "Fuck me harder," I beg, pulling his lip between my teeth. Growling, his pace quickens, his fingers digging into my hips as he violently thrusts into me over and over again. With each push, he coaxes a slight twinge of pain and I relish in it, tightening around him. He moves as though he's physically trying to fuck himself into me.

  My head drops forward, a string of moans slipping from my throat as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses along the side of my neck. He fucks me until I'm shaking and moaning, begging him for something, anything. One hand snakes around my body and he pinches my clit between his thick, calloused fingers. Then
his teeth sink into the soft flesh between my neck and shoulder.

  "Jude," I gasp on a strangled breath, pleasure ripping through my body like a tsunami. My vision dots, my breath leaving me in a rush.

  "Fuck, Tor," he grinds out, his thrusts becoming stiff and jerky. He exhales a long groan before he stills, wrapping his arms around me as he rests his forehead against the back of my neck. Hot breaths blow over my skin and I drop my head, trying to catch my breath. His lips press gently against my back and I smile before he shifts away from me, falling onto his back and pulling me down on top of him.

  "God, I love fucking you, doll," he says as he trails his fingers along my back.

  I roll my eyes. "Such a charmer."

  "You'd be bored with anyone else." A small smile pulls at his lips.

  "And no one else would put up with your arse. A man’s body in my bush..." I grumble.

  Jude brushes his hand through my hair. "You fucking like it." He grabs my face, kissing me hard.

  "What? You and your bloody Mexican friend ruining my fence?"

  "He's Colombian." He smirks.

  I roll my eyes. "Even better."

  "Come on, doll. You know we've had our best fucks covered in blood. Remember good ole’ Mussa..." He kisses my throat, his teeth nipping at me. "Then there was the fuck we crammed in the trunk of my car that time..."

  "Don't drag me down to your level." I shove playfully at him and he circles his fingers around my wrist, pinning me to him.

  "You've been down to my level since the first time you begged me to fuck you." He pulls his face from my neck and laughs. I can’t help but want to slap him.

  "One minute you're a respectable woman,” I say, “the next you’re knocked up by a criminal. Then before you know it, you're fucking in blood. You're a terrible influence."

  He laughs. "You're no better, you've made me go soft."

  "Tell that to the dead man with my fence post in his chest." I hear the faintest sound from down the hallway and tilt my head to the side to listen. Cayla. With a sigh, I push away from Jude, crawling to the edge of the bed. He slaps my arse and I yelp.