Possession (The Agents, #1)

by Brynne Asher

I look like a dream in the middle of a nightmare.

“You think I have a choice? I fucking don’t! We’d be dead right now if I hadn’t given into his demand. Dead, Nellie. All of us!”

“Damn you. I told you to stay away from the Marinos. They’re too dangerous—Damian especially. He’s evil, and you’re handing our daughter over to him on a golden platter!”

That I’d be the one who would ultimately pay the price for his fuck up. I’d be the one to pay his debt. And I’d do it with my own life.

Alamandos Marino is one of the wealthiest men in Mexico. Unlike my father, Alamandos is a big player. Huge. Actually, he is the player that all other players are measured against. He’s also ruthless. But if rumors in the underworld we live in are true, his son, Damian Marino, is worse. So much worse.

“Let’s not pretend what I’m about to do isn’t another form of death. You’re the one who botched a shipment for the biggest modern-day cartel leader. I’ll never get out of this. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never live a free, normal life, and it’s all your fault. You might as well slit my throat yourself before I’m forced to walk down the aisle.”

“If you think you’re getting me out of this once the deed is done, you’re more demented than I gave you credit for. I hope you both enjoy the freedom my life sentence is about to buy you.”

Him wearing Damian’s blood is a constant reminder that I could be in a worse position at this very moment.

There’s nothing better than organized mayhem.

“I have a feeling you might have a fire inside you that could get you in trouble.

“Wait—” I start but Boz’s hold on me finally loosens only for his large, warm hand to land on the side of my face. His hold is firm, and his gaze is hot and intense as it seeps into me. His expression screams Shut up! but what comes out of his mouth is heavy and laced with finality. “You’re mine now.”

If I lose control, it’ll eat me alive.

If I have one fear, it’s that. Not making it out.

I pull her body to mine and wrap an arm around her narrow waist. Her arms are pinned between us as her hands land on my bloody shirt. I’ll never forget this moment or the look on her face. Maybe, someday, when this shit is over, and I’ve done what I needed to do, she’ll realize this is for her own good.

this man is capable of backing up every imposing threat with real muscle.

“Hand,” he demands. I slowly hold out my left one as he slides the most ostentatious ring on the finger that’s supposed to have a vein connecting straight to my racing heart. But that’s just some ancient belief that’s a crock of shit. Just like this marriage.

Oh, I'm sure you'll be just fine soon.

I’m not surprised no one congratulates us on our new marriage. I’d accept condolences.

I turn to look at him when he doesn’t shut my door. He says nothing. “What?” I demand. He pulls in a big breath before turning his head to look out into the darkness. When he looks back at me, he mutters, “Fucking unreal.” Then he slams the door in my face. Well. Finally, something I can agree with.

lolll

“Put that on. And, I swear, chica, if you keep asking me questions, I might lose it. We’ve experienced the same day, and it’s been a helluva one. Can we not ride in peace until we get to the house?”

In fact, I can’t think about the future at all. Surviving the present is hard enough.

He turns back to me and leans over the console. Before I know it, his hand is wrapped around my neck and I’m almost nose to nose with Boz-Brian-boss. “Chica, I’m thinking you don’t understand the severity of the situation your father sold you into. Damian Marino is dead. A war is brewing. And you could be married to Nicolas Decker right now instead of sitting here with me. You don’t understand what that means, and given the day you’ve had, I’ll spare you the details for another time. But trust me, be grateful for who you’re sitting next to. So when I tell you to keep your mouth shut, it's for your own good.”

“No buts, Landyn. You’re mine until you’re not. Do yourself a favor and obey. You’ll understand soon enough. I want to end this fucking day once and for all.”

Boz hesitates before looking up and down the hall. Then he lets go of my hand to claim my face like he did right after we both said I do. But he doesn’t kiss me. At least not on the lips. He tips my head back and drags the tip of his nose up my jaw. His lips touch the skin below my ear. This time it’s gentle and warms my cool skin.

I stand and make my way across the office until I’m almost toe to toe with my wife who needs to learn to act like it for both our sakes while we’re in this house.

But I’m thrown for another loop when Boz wraps a hand around the bottom of my dining chair and yanks it so I’m pressed to his side. His arm circles my shoulders right before he leans in to press his warm lips to my temple. He holds me tight to him when he settles back into his chair. “I’m not Damian or Nic, and I can handle my wife just fine, Edward. I answer to Alamandos, not you. You’re here because he can’t come across the border, and he wanted his sister’s input in the funeral. Landyn is mine now. You’ll never talk about my wife that way again.”

BARK BARK BARK

My husband shifts in his seat, but never lets me go when he produces a handgun from inside his sport coat.

“For the final time, what do you say to my queen for disrespecting her?” Eliza whimpers. A tear falls to her lap, but she never looks up. “I…” Ed croaks as his beady eyes shift between Boz’s gun and me. Boz’s finger hovers over the trigger. “You know I’ll do it.”

I need you to trust that I’ll take care of you.”

“Your father made that agreement with Alamandos to save his ass. Alamandos was pissed about the load being taken down, but he never threatened you or your mom. I was in the room, Landyn. Your fucking father was quick to take the deal and hand you over as payment.”

Carson – Yeah, I heard how he disrespected your “queen” last night. Me – Acting the part. What was I supposed to do? Carson – I’ve got a queen of my own. I would’ve done the same thing.

The man is unnerving. He’s made it clear everything he does is for show. But every time he touches me, it feels very, very real.

He hasn’t gotten the memo that my wife is fake and that she’s a part of the job. Basically, she’s driving me mad. I find myself thinking of reasons to be in public with her, just so I can have a reason to touch her.

They can check him off soon right after they thank me for laying him at their feet. I’ve got so many balls in the air right now, if I drop one, they’ll all detonate the moment they hit the ground.

But the worst of it is, I’m the reason she’s here. It was my tip that led the authorities to the load her father lost, which led to him bartering his only daughter. I’m the one who dragged her into this, I’m the one playing with her emotions, and as the days click on, it’s getting harder and harder to focus on the end goal and not her. It’s hard—really fucking hard.

“That was real, and don’t try to tell me it wasn’t.”

She’s mine now, and there’s no way I’m going to let anyone near her who’s willing to auction her off like a cow.”

The longer I’m around him, the less he scares me. Don’t get me wrong, he’s scary. But as the days pass, he’s scary in a way that makes me feel safe. And I never thought I’d feel safe in this world.

I’m pissed she doesn’t know the real me. That my name isn’t the one sliding across her lips when I touch her. I’m pissed this is fake. And I’m even more pissed that there’s no way this will ever be anything more than a sham. When this is done, I’ll be the liar. There’s no doubt she’ll hate me. And I’ll deserve it.

“Don’t play with my heart.” I pull in a deep breath to control myself so I don’t fall to my knees in front of her and beg for forgiveness before she even knows who I really am.

I lived through my own wedding massacre only to be tortured with high school homework all over again.

Lollllllll

“You missed me. It’s good to know the honeymoon phase is still going strong.”

Boz Torres has become a security blanket. He found me when I was kidnapped. He saved me from having to marry Nic Decker. And he stood up to my father, which I didn’t have the nerve to do. Then he fed me tacos. Tacos should not be the thing that nails my coffin shut when it comes to this man, but it might be. If he would’ve added warm churros to our drive-thru order, I’d be a goner. Thank God he didn’t. I need some form of defense against this man.

“I’m not going to lie, I can’t wait … to eat it.”

Ehehehe

“Chica, I’ll take anything you want to give me. I’m fucking starving.”

The last thing I see is a smile tugging at the lips that I wish would kiss me more often than they do.

THE YEARNNNING

It’s a chance none of us can afford to take—namely me—since I’m the one buried so deep it’s getting harder and harder to keep a grasp on reality.

If I were a gentleman, I’d give her the bed. If I were half a gentleman, I’d invite her to sleep on the other side of the bed. But I’m me, trying to keep my focus and both of us alive, so I haven’t done either.

If she enters that bed, my last two years working within the Marino organization will look like child’s play compared to the challenge of not touching her when no one is watching.

I took every jab and choked down every taunt about how, from the sounds of it in the control room, there’s nothing fake about my wife. They also commended me on my dedication to the job. How I’m really giving it my all. Fuck me. What I am giving my all to is my pure unadulterated willpower when it comes to Landyn Torres. And that resolve is shaky at best.

The three of us ate in the dining room last night. Landyn was by my side like she has been for every other shit-show meal we’ve hosted since she got here, but this meal was different. It was unlike anything I’ve experienced since I first stepped foot in this house. It was normal.