Prize
Author: Gray, Sophia
Date: 2017-05-16T07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: ident; done11; JeanneP
Description: The bad boy’s prize is a baby in my belly. One night with the dark, mysterious man of my dreams – it should have been perfect. He swept me off my feet, took my virginity… and left me with a child in my womb. But just when I think it's all over, I find out who Nikolai really is – and what he is about to do to my family. Who knew getting lucky would turn out to be so unfortunate? I was new to the city, an innocent country girl with dreams as big as my eyes. He was a killer with a million-dollar smile. Some lines aren’t meant to be crossed, but our lust didn’t care about right and wrong. I wanted

Table of Contents

- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

PRIZE: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance copyright 2017 by Sophia Gray. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

***

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Contents

Prize: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

[FREE BONUS NOVEL] SINS: Devil’s Horns MC

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Also by Sophia Gray

MINE: Fury Riders MC

SINS: Devil’s Horns MC

OBEY: A Dark Romance

DENY: A Dark Romance

HEAT: A Dark Romance

Prize: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

By Sophia Gray

The bad boy’s prize is a baby in my belly.

One night with the dark, mysterious man of my dreams – it should have been perfect.

He swept me off my feet, took my virginity… and left me with a child in my womb.

But just when everything seems as horrible as it could possibly be, I find out who Nikolai really is – and what he is about to do to my family.

Who knew getting lucky would turn out to be so unfortunate?

I was new to the city, an innocent country girl with dreams as big as my eyes.

He was a killer with a million-dollar smile.

Some lines aren’t meant to be crossed, but our lust didn’t care about right and wrong.

I wanted him; he wanted me – for one night, at least.

That was enough.

But two months later, a bout of nausea forces me to confront the truth:

I’m carrying the bad boy’s baby.

I don’t know what to do – do I look for him? Do I raise the child myself?

Before I can decide, there’s a knock on the door.

It’s Nikolai.

To my surprise, he’s looking for my no-good brother.

But something in his eyes tells me that nothing good will come at the end of this search.

My brother may be a scumbag, but he’s still my flesh and blood.

If Nikolai wants to kill him, he’ll have to go through me…

And our baby.

Chapter 1

Madeline

The alarm was red and bleary, or maybe that was just my vision. It was early, too early for my alarm, which meant I was losing valuable sleep instead of rejuvenating for the exam I had in just two hours in Renaissance Paintings of Europe—a boring, “easy” class for most who were naïve and picking based on nothing more than the category it fell under—art in this case, but it was part of my major. There was a lingering image in my mind, something about a dream and a man and something dark and hot. I blushed at the thought that maybe it was a wet dream, but then I felt my forehead and decided my blushing had nothing to do with the dream.

I felt sick. Bad sick.

When my stomach roiled and gurgled, angry for being woken, yet doing the waking itself, I knew I had only moments to get to the bathroom. I tumbled from the bed, which was so close to the hardwood floor anyway that I couldn’t stick a textbook under there, much less anything else. The sheets tangled around my legs, but I scrambled away from them, half crawling and half running for the little bathroom that was stuck between my bedroom—which was really just curtained off from the rest of the living room and kitchen—and the open living space. I ducked into it, not bothering with the door.

It was hanging off its hinges, leaning against the doorjamb at an odd angle, precarious enough that I thought more than once I’d knock it over and have it fall on top of me while I was trying to pee.

Today I didn’t worry about it, though. All I cared about was getting to the toilet.

When I reached the porcelain bowl, I got my face over it just in time to retch up anything that might have been lingering in my stomach. I ached and burned, flushed with what was probably a nasty fever as my body tried to expel whatever toxins were in my system. I had enough forethought to hold my long blonde hair away from my face, keeping it mostly out of the bowl. When I thought the throwing up portion of my morning was finished, I flushed the toilet, but I didn’t get up right away.

I felt awful. And not just a little bit.

Leaning against the wall beside the door, I sat on the cool tiles and tried to calm my still queasy insides.

Maybe it’s just nerves, a very stupid part of my brain tried to convince me.

Nerves over this huge test which I needed to pass to get a good grade in the class, which I needed to have since my major was art. And it wasn’t one of those classes that was all “portfolio work” and “sketchbook time” and whatever else came with those kinds of classes. This was all history and studying and long-winded, fluff-filled papers. All of the stuff that didn’t come necessarily naturally to me. If anything, I was working harder in this class than I ever had before in my life.

Who would have guessed college was so hard?

I groaned, slumping farther so I could press my forehead against the tile. It was delightfully cool and brought me some modicum of relief. Just a little, but it was enough. Until I felt my stomach lurch again and then I was back over the toilet.

The flu. It’s definitely the flu, I thought, and continued to heave until there was nothing left.

I took a shower directly after that. Mostly because I felt so gross that not taking a shower wasn’t an option. I understood bodily functions were bodily functions and everyone did them, but that didn’t mean I was cool with throwing up. Ew. So I showered. I washed my hair and I brushed my teeth about ten times. I nearly threw up again, but just managed to avoid it. And by the time I got out of the shower, I felt better. Not completely better, in fact my stomach was still bothering me, but a little better. Better enough to go to class.

At least that was what I was telling myself. I had to get to that class. Period. My exam could not wait, nor would Mrs. Sylvia cut me any slack, no matter how sick I was.

“Maybe crackers,” I mumbled to myself as I slunk out of the bathroom with a fuzzy robe wrapped around me. It was periwinkle blue with birds on it. A gift from my dad, who was worried I’d end up in one of those dorms with the communal bathrooms down the hall on the same floor as crazy, lecherous boys.

It hadn’t turned out that way, but I was grateful for the robe all the same.

I headed into the kitchen intending on crackers, but I couldn’t find anything like that—I didn’t even have bread for toast right now—and made a mental note to go grocery shopping. The only thing in the fridge was a jar of half gone pickles, mustard, and what might have been bologna, but maybe not.

Shuddering, I closed the fridge, started the coffee pot, and pretended this was just like any other morning. Everything was fine. I wasn’t sick. Business as usual.

It would have been a lot more convincing if I still didn’t feel awful, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. So while the coffee was brewing, I went back into my bedroom, lifting the light drapes—just a sheet Shawn and I decorated with goofy-looking stars and what might have been a cow at the time—to the side and heading in. A sudden wave of nausea swept me and I had to stop. I breathed through my nose until it passed.

My closet looked like a shoebox, but that was about right given that the whole dirt-cheap studio apartment was like a miniature size of a real apartment. It almost made me feel like the Barbie dolls I used to play with as a kid. I was grateful it wasn’t all baby pink, at least.

I didn’t have a lot of clothes, so at least digging in that small closet wasn’t too difficult. I grabbed a pair of sweats that used to belong to Shawn and a tank top, because I wasn’t doing glamorous today. Monica, one of the girls I met out here when I moved, told me a thousand times you should always dress to impress; that way when you met the love of your life you’d look appealing and he wouldn’t just walk right past you. But I only half listened to Monica, and our definitions of “dressing to impress” were a little different anyway.

I grabbed a sweatshirt, too. Go Owls.

By the time the coffee was finished, I was dressed. I didn’t put on the sweatshirt, because I was still feverish and didn’t feel like sweating. I poured myself a cup of coffee—my stomach gurgled uncertainly at the smell of it, making me frown; I loved coffee—just as my phone went off.

I glanced at the caller ID: Shawn.

“Hello?” I said, leaning over the counter and feeling suddenly exhausted.

“Hey, what’s the matter? You sound…not awake. Are you okay?”

Shawn was like that. He just knew when something was up with me, like he could sense it or something. It was both sweet and a little unnerving sometimes.

We’d been friends since we were children, best friends actually, and when I moved out to the city to go to college, he followed. We’d been planning something along those lines anyway, but some part of me thought he wouldn’t really go, and some part of him thought I wouldn’t really go.

Either way, here we were.

“I think I’ve got the flu,” I groaned, feeling miserable. “You should probably steer clear of me. I’m a wreck.”

I could practically hear the frown in his voice as he answered. “The flu? Incredible, you’d better stay home. Have you talked to Mrs. Sylvia? I’ll ask her for an extension; she’s a marshmallow when you play on her maternal side. Have you seen the doctor? ’Cause the flu can be—”

“Shawn.” I said his name just a little sharply, just to get him to stop rambling. He had a habit of getting really paranoid and worried over me, even when he didn’t need to. That was just part of it with us. “I’m fine. I just don’t feel too good. I’ve been throwing up.”

Normally, I wouldn’t really be comfortable telling a guy that. No girl wanted a guy to think she was doing gross things like puking up the contents of her stomach into the toilet, but I really didn’t care with Shawn. We told each other everything and I knew he wouldn’t judge me.

“Tell me that means you are now back in bed, resting,” he said, but it was with resignation, like he already knew the answer before I said anything.

I sighed. “You know I’ve got that exam!”

“I told you, I’ll get an extension for you. Mrs. Sylvia loves me.”

It was true; she did have a soft spot for Shawn. Which was utterly ridiculous in my book, since he didn’t even have class with her. He just liked to hang out with me and got special permission to attend class with me, too. Somehow, he was good at sweet-talking her like that even when she seemed to hate everyone else. It sucked, but it could be useful at times.

For a long moment, I considered it. An extension would be nice. I was feeling really gross and I wasn’t entirely certain I wouldn’t need to throw up again in the middle of class. Still, an extension also meant there was a stronger chance of me forgetting everything I’d just studied for yesterday—and for the last three days. A big part of me just wanted to get the thing over with already.

That was the part that won out in the end.

“I can’t put it off,” I finally told Shawn. “I just need it over. Done. It’s been stressing me out and, you know, I’ll bet that’s why I got sick in the first place.”

I heard a sigh through the phone. “Okay, okay. But I’m giving you a ride to school. And once your exam is over, it’s straight to bed with you. We’ll do popcorn and movies on the couch, cuddle up until you feel better.”

I winced a little at his suggestion, but only because he couldn’t see me. Sometimes he got all girly on me without meaning to. He was like the best guy in the world to hang out with, but sometimes he just wouldn’t go. He was a smotherer and I always thought it was a little weird.

Still. Movies and hanging out time while I was sick didn’t sound too bad. “I’m really sick,” I reminded him, but it was a feeble thing. Secretly, I wanted him to be stubborn and come over anyway, because I felt gross and I wanted him to tell me I was awesome. “I’m probably contagious, too.”

“Pfft. What’s a little contagion between friends?” he asked, and I laughed. “I’ll be over in fifteen. Wait for me, Madeline.”

I agreed and hung up the phone.

As promised, Shawn knocked on my apartment door fifteen minutes later. When I opened it, he stood there holding chai that looked like it was still steaming and a takeout bowl of something. Probably chicken noodle soup. I smiled gratefully at him and urged him in, closing the door behind me.

Once he was just two steps inside my tiny little apartment, he stopped and turned to look at me. He raised a single eyebrow. “Really?” he asked.

I frowned at him. “What? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just want to know how it is that you can be sicker than a dog and still look like you walked out of some modeling photo shoot. Jeez, even after throwing up you look amazing.”

I laughed at him heartily, which I was sure was the desired effect. He always knew just what to say to make me feel better. I punched him lightly in the arm. “You’re such a good friend. I know I look really bad.”

He gave me a funny look, like maybe I’d hurt his feelings, but then he put the soup and tea down, and when he turned to look at me again the expression was gone. Probably just my imagination anyway. “I still think you should stay home,” he told me. “The exam will be there when you’re feeling better.”

I waved him off, taking up the tea. It was a chai latte, which was ten times better than just chai, and I took a long sip, grateful that it seemed to soothe my picky stomach that morning. “This is, like, the best thing ever.”

He smiled at me, almost tenderly, but quickly it turned into a grin. “Heaven in a cup, am I right?”

“Definitely. Drive me to class?”

He sighed, but nodded. “Duh. Why do you think I’m here?”

I got home maybe three or four hours later. I was feeling so much better than I had been that morning, the abrupt change making me think maybe it was only a stomach bug rather than the flu. People didn’t get over the flu in three hours, right?

Since I was overall feeling so much better, I told Shawn we could pass on the movie night. He seemed disappointed, which was weird to me. Why would anyone want to spend their afternoon hanging out with a sick, puking person? I figured he was just bored or trying to avoid homework—he was majoring in physical education, which I thought was a waste of time and maybe just an excuse to be at college with me rather than any real desire on his part—so I waved off his hurt look.

It was totally exaggerated anyway, right?

I closed the door to my apartment and dropped my bag off on the floor beside the door. I’d worry about the heavy books inside it later. For a little bit, I just wanted to be grateful that I had completed my exam successfully and feel at least a little sure that I’d done well.

I went to the fridge first before realizing there was nothing in it.

Frowning, I debated takeout. I didn’t have a lot of free cash—I had financial aid since my dad’s farm had been doing so poorly and I worked part time at a little coffee shop down the street—but I could afford to eat out every once in a while. But I’d rather have something in the fridge for later.

Besides, nothing sounded good except really bad Chinese, and that wasn’t good for me. I was trying to avoid the freshman fifteen—which was more like the freshman forty, but since I wasn’t a freshman anymore it didn’t really count like that, though the same concept applied.

So instead, I decided I would grab the spare cash I kept hidden and run down to the store to buy groceries.

I should probably add tampons to the list, I added mentally as I went into the bathroom to check the mirror cabinet where I kept my little stash. As I was grabbing it out of the case that was supposed to be for dental floss, I accidentally knocked over the box of tampons. They scattered across the floor and I cursed as I knelt down to gather them up.

That was when I noticed it with a frown. There were a lot of them. Like, way more than there should have been. As I stuffed them back into the box, I started counting backwards. When did I buy them last? Usually I had to buy them every month, but I couldn’t remember buying them that month. Or last month.

My frown deepened and I ended up leaving them sitting in the box as I hurried over to the calendar over the sink.

The days for my period were marked with red circles, colored in whenever I started day one.

Except the last two months they weren’t colored in. In fact, I was coming up fast on what should have been my next period, and with a sinking realization, I understood that this was not good. This was definitely not good. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have freaked. I didn’t have sex very often—I’d only been with two guys, the last one was three years ago—so I didn’t think about it much, but now a glittering hot memory flashed through my head of that night club and the dancing and the guy who’d taken me home.

The sexy, gorgeous man who I sometimes still thought about even though it had been two months ago and I hadn’t heard from him again.

My shoulders slumped. Two months ago. No period. And now I was feeling sick in the morning. I grabbed my cash, ran to the corner store, bought Twinkies, Doritos, a six pack of cola, and several bags of unpopped popcorn, a pregnancy test, and a box of the good kind of chocolate. The sales lady gave me a pointed look, but didn’t say anything as she rang up my goods. I went home and before I’d even unpacked anything, I stuffed a whole Twinkie into my mouth, washed it down with the large soda, and went into the bathroom to pee on a stick.

It was the longest two and a half minutes of my life. Right until the two seconds it took me to register that there was a single pink line indicating positive.

Chapter 2

Nikolai

Two Months Earlier

I had little left of my Russian accent, though I clung lightly to what remained of my heritage. Mostly it was a name, a love of vodka, and ties to the family business here in the USA. I was good at my job, though it was hard to say whether or not being good at it counted as enjoyment. It wasn’t the sort of thing one was supposed to enjoy.

But still.

Most of the time people thought of mobsters as old school gangsters, complete with Tommy guns and pinstriped suits. That was mostly old hat at this juncture, but some things lingered with the times. Useful things. Like contract killers, men hired to take out “problems.” Men like me.

We met at an Italian bistro—not that it mattered since the food was all Americanized in the end, and no one cooked like my mother did anyway—Bella, Bella, and made it through the entire meal without talking a bit about business. Pasta, tossed salad, dinner rolls, and some sort of soup that was probably the closest thing to homemade cooking in the entire place. It was the only thing I finished, though I insisted on a to-go container just to make sure Mickey, who I thought was Italian until I learned that Mickey was actually just a nickname for Mikhail so as not to invoke any negative connotations to his name, didn’t get insulted by my lack of appetite. He’d have told me he wasn’t offended, but he would have been a liar, so I was going to take home two containers of processed garbage just to make sure our business affairs stayed smooth.

When Mickey was finally finished, he dabbed at his double chin. There were three wise guys in town who were of any note. Mickey here, with his round frame and mushy gray beard that couldn’t decide if it was trying for salt and pepper or just going that dirty gray color. His eyes were a watery blue color that reminded me more of home than anything else, but were always shrewd, even when the rest of him was trying to be jovial and kind. Then there was Grigory, who was tall and thin and liked to fight with Mickey over having such a ridiculous nickname, even though they grew up together and it didn’t really bother him anymore. He’d say, “It’s not traditional, Denis, not even a little.” And finally, there was Zackary, who sounded like he should have been a huge, giggling fat man, but was actually just shaped like a box. A box with sparkling gray eyes and the promise that things would go badly if you pushed him into a corner.

All three of these men were the kind of people you wanted as friends, not enemies, but usually it was just better not to know them altogether. At least, it was better if you didn’t want to walk a fine line that was usually on the wrong side of the law.

As it stood, I did know them and the three of them always had some sort of job for me. Tonight, it just happened to be Mickey, and I wasn’t complaining. Mickey was a practical man, despite his show of excess and luxury. He understood the price of a thing and was willing to pay that price if it meant a good job done in the end.

That was what people were paying me for in the end: a good job. I was the best in the business and that came with a rather impressive price tag.

“He’s some kid,” Mickey finally began to explain to me, getting into the meat of the job. “Some kid who was just supposed to be a contractor. Good, wholesome kid. From some farm in the middle of fly-over-America, the places no one cares about. A corn-fed boy, you know?”

I nodded. These were the sorts of people you always had to be on the lookout for, though I didn’t bother pointing that out to Mickey. He hired this kid because he was cheap and seemed so honest, but in my experience, it was always the innocent, small town farm kids who moved to the big bad city you had to be wary of. They never understood what it took to make it in the city and it made them do funny, unpredictable things.

Like this homegrown kid had apparently done.

“So, we hired him to do a little work for us, right? Good, paying work. Just needed someone to come in a put up some new framework. Some structure. That old hovel isn’t working anymore. We need better. So, we hire him to put up a new business home for us and you know what he does?”

I knew for a fact that he was talking about a sort of unofficial headquarters for the mob, a place where they could hold meetings and discuss “delicate things” amongst themselves without any prying ears. And I also knew no one would call it a hovel except for Mickey. It was bigger than the library in New York City and it was just as beautiful. But they had a rat problem recently, and I wasn’t talking about small rodents.

“He steals from us.”

And there it was. Why I was here.

There were three things you didn’t do where the mob was concerned. Go to the cops was number one, which I was pretty certain applied to any sort of criminal organization, period. Go to other mobs—the Italians or the Irish, for example—and give them your business. That was pretty straightforward, too. The mob was all about loyalty, and going against your own people didn’t get you in good with the other people anyway, so no one messed with that one much either. But the last one was the one people had a hard time with. It was also the one that very quickly got you killed, regardless of who you knew.

Number three was stealing, and you never got away with it.

“Do you have a name for me?” I asked, my accent slightly thicker since I’d been spending the evening with Mickey, who took pride in sounding as Russian as possible. Mostly a show since I knew his English was near perfect, but he was from the Motherland, so it wasn’t exactly fake either.

He slid a piece of paper across the table. Before I even opened it up I knew it would have two things on it: a name and a number. The number was the price Mickey was willing to pay and the name would be the homegrown corn fed Iowa or wherever middle state he was from boy I was to kill.

I opened the paper and saw it: Logan King. One hundred thousand. Not a bad price in the slightest. The kid must have taken a lot of money from Mickey for him to be willing to pay that much for his head. I noticed that beside the number there was a little plus sign and an additional number, fifty thousand. My eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. This was clearly a bonus; it must have been for doing it in a timely manner.

“You have a date for me?”

Mickey nodded. “Three months. Anything longer and the deal is off. Anything sooner and you get the fifty.”

“All right.” I agreed to the deal because I didn’t like to go too long without working and the money was good for a relatively easy kill. Mickey wasn’t paying for difficulty; he was paying for time and for his own money. I could appreciate that.

“There’s been a sighting of him,” Mickey continued, leaning back in his chair as I held the note between my fore and middle finger and placed it over the lit candle. It burned, ashes falling to the deep red tablecloth as Mickey spoke. “A bar, local. Shadow.”

“How much money was it?” I asked before I get up to leave. I knew where Shadow was; I’d been a time or two.

Mickey studied me for a long moment, as though debating just how much he should tell me. Finally, he said, “Six and a half five million. And I want it back.”

I nodded once and then I was gone.

***

Shadow wasn’t exactly seedy, not in the true sense of the word. A seedy bar was one of those places where the bathrooms were disgusting and the beers were overpriced, even though they were cheap everywhere else. They were the kind of places where people went for fights and brawling and just getting tossed because their lives were just that meaningless and empty.

This was not quite that.

Shadow was located in an older building. It had a small redbrick facing with a black door and a red light above it. Upstairs was a strip club, amongst other things, but even that was “fancier” than just that. Inside was dark, only dimly lit with tones that ranged from red to blue to purple. The tables were all booths, tucked into corners with leather seating. The bar was well taken care of, the bartender wore a button-down shirt and a vest, and the glasses were clean. It was a nice place—except it wasn’t very nice. Dangerous people liked to come here and I’d seen more than a handful of girls dragged through the doors, so far gone that they were more being carried than walking. Some were escorts, but many were just young women pretty enough, and unfortunate enough, to catch the eye of some local man with too much money and not enough toe.

Not that every woman who was in there didn’t want to be there. In fact, a lot of women came there hunting specifically for the “right kind of man,” which equated to a lot of money and a short lifespan, if possible. I didn’t care so long as they were hot and game to go to bed.

I didn’t do relationships.

Not that any of that mattered tonight. I was on the hunt for Logan King and this was the last place he’d been seen—which told me Mickey was on the mark; the boy had stolen a lot of money.

After my meeting with Mickey, I’d done a little research. Strangely enough, research started with Google and Facebook these days. All that free online information just floating around, waiting for crooks like me to mosey along and take what they need. It was a blasted shame, really, and one of the main reasons I would never get a profile page online. Not for anything. I did have a fake one for a beautiful woman who didn’t exist for the purposes of adding people or searching the web. I had noticed that beautiful women were much more likely to get responses than hit men were.

I’d gotten some good information at least. Logan was just under six feet, had blond hair and blue eyes. Apparently, the only shirt he owned was a plaid button-down, and he was known to wear cowboy hats. If he got any more country, I’d have to assume his dog died and he spoke with a twang.

He’d moved to the city not too long ago and had a younger sister in college. She didn’t appear in pictures, at least none of the ones I could view, but I did a quick look to make sure he wouldn’t be hiding out with her. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t. Probably she had nothing to do with any of it, so I’d focus on the boy first and go to his little sister only if absolutely necessary.

I didn’t like dragging in people who weren’t responsible, though sometimes that was just part of it. I didn’t like killing women either, but I would make exceptions for those who’d done the same dirty deeds as the men I killed. Why be a misogynist like that? But I didn’t think she was involved, so I’d do my best to keep it that way. Especially since I had this little farm girl in my head with pigtails and rosy, freckled cheeks, only four years old, even though I had found out she was in her twenties.

Sometimes that was just how I pictured people until I got a real image of them in my head.

My eyes scanned the room, searching him out, but weren’t having much luck. There were no plaid wearing, cowboy-clad blondies in the room as far as I could tell. In fact, I wasn’t seeing a whole heck of a lot of blond at all tonight. Well, not on the men anyway. There were definitely a lot of busty bottle blondes with fake tans and probably fake boobs, too. Not that I minded. Fake boobs felt good, too. A little weird at first, but nice and heavy in the palms and always with erect nipples. There was a lot to be said for that.

I spent the next three hours at that bar, just waiting. Watching as people came and went, I mentally compared their faces, clothing, and body type to the Logan’s. No dice. Finally, it was starting to get late and I was beginning to think this was all a bust. Logan might have been here at some point, but not tonight. Not now.

Frustrated, I gave up and waved down the bartender.

“Sir?” he asked politely. He recognized me, but didn’t know me by name. Probably, he had sense enough to not want to, either.

“Vodka, neat,” I told him, and the man nodded before pulling out a clear bottle of the good stuff. Ah, a little taste of home. The bartender put the tumbler down on the counter in front of me. I swirled the clear liquid around quickly, then downed it in a single gulp. I tapped the counter, indicating I wanted another, and the bartender obliged quickly.

This one I sipped at, my eyes going over the room again automatically. I was still half looking for this Logan guy, though by now I’d accepted I wasn’t likely to see him. Wherever he was, he was long gone from here.

Still, I couldn’t help but be vigilant as I drank.

That was why I saw her. She was a pretty little thing, her curves proportionate, but just naturally like that instead of filled in by surgical procedures and shaped by doctor’s hands. She was born that way, developing into the kind of woman men salivated over. Which they were doing right now.

Her hair was a soft blonde, closer to wheat or honey than the platinum color you could only get from a bottle. It was long and thick stopping just above her hips, straight as a wooden board. Her hips were full, more noticeable thanks to that tiny waist which slowly flared upwards into two perfectly round, perky belly. I lingered on those longer than the rest of her, indulging in the small press of cleavage that was visible beneath her dress. A soft white summer dress that stopped not far above her knees. It was a spaghetti strap, but otherwise it was really quite modest. Too modest for a place like this in fact. As were her flat, ballerina style slippers. She looked like she belonged on Broadway performing Swan Lake, not slinking around some bar to take shots.

Her round, apple cheeks were flushed and dotted with a dusting of adorable freckles. I suddenly wondered if those freckles were elsewhere, too. My eyes slipped down the long column of her neck, searching now, until they once again landed on her full breasts. I thought I saw a few freckles there, too, and I couldn’t help but grin slyly into my glass.

I’ll bet they’re between your legs, too, sweetheart, I thought to myself.

She walked around almost shyly, her eyes blue and bright, searching out the deep corners of the place, examining faces and expressions and clothes like she’d never seen any of it before. She was smiling so widely that her cheeks probably hurt, showing barely shiny pink lips and a row of pearly white teeth.

Sweet, that was finally what I came to as a word to describe her. Sweet. Not usually my type, but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was so unlike everyone else in the room, so out of place.

She eventually made it to the bar. “Um, excuse me?” she called out, trying to get the bartender who was at the opposite end. He either didn’t hear her or didn’t care that she was calling; she didn’t look like she had a lot of money. Leaning over the bar farther to get his attention—I noticed the way her breasts sat heavily on the counter, pushing together until even her modest little summer dress couldn’t completely contain them—she waved at him again, “Excuse me, sir?”

She was so polite and I found it irritated me that he continued to ignore her attempts to get his attention. It was hardly her fault if she didn’t look like the other prima donnas in the room.

Leaning over to her, I asked, “What would you like?” I let just a little bit of my accent roll over across my tongue, because I knew women went for that sort of thing. I had intended to just be gentlemanly, but now I was rethinking it and considering other, darker things. Dirty things.

Surprised, she glanced over at me. Her face flushed brightly and I saw her chest heave as though she had just taken a heavy breath. Her long eyelashes fluttered before she looked down shyly. “Um, I’m not sure. What’s good?”

I laughed a little at her, good-naturedly. “Oh, don’t drink much?”

She giggled a little and ran her slender fingers through her long hair self-consciously, as though she had a thing in the world to feel self-conscious about. “I, um, don’t drink a lot,” she admitted.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. Could she be serious? I didn’t know there were people in the city who didn’t drink. “Well, then you need to get the best, of course.” I waved the bartender over easily and ordered her a vodka to match my own, though I added a little ice for hers. I thought she might appreciate it.

“Oh, um, how much?” she asked, reaching into her dress pockets—which seemed odd to me, but then I realized she didn’t have a purse.

I placed a large hand on her wrist, stilling her movements. She flushed at the contact and I smiled sweetly at her. “No, I insist. He’ll put it on my tab.” And the bartender nodded and walked away before she could even think about arguing.

“That’s…that’s really sweet of you.”

Sweet? Not likely, I thought, but kept that to myself. I certainly had other motives—like getting a handful of those belly at some point tonight. Even if that was all I got.

The bartender put another tumbler on the counter next to mine.

“My name is Nikolai,” I introduced myself, offering her a large hand.

She sucked her full lower lip into her mouth, worrying it between her teeth, making me wish I could slide my tongue over that lip and into her mouth. “Madeline,” she answered me, placing a tiny hand into mine. I swallowed it whole.

“Here alone tonight?” I asked, mostly because I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to beat some jerk up if I wanted a taste of her. I wasn’t one to get into some feud with a man over a woman. There were plenty of fish in the sea, after all.

She nodded her head, her thick hair tumbling around her bare shoulders. “I didn’t really have anyone to go with,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

She blinked at me in surprise. “Why?”

Smiling, I leaned closer to her to answer. “Because it amazes me that a woman as beautiful as you would ever be alone.”

A blush scorched her cheeks as her eyes went wide. That blush trailed lower, though, moving down her neck and across those perfectly perky breasts, and probably dipping lower than that, too. I wanted to trail it with my hands and my mouth.

“You’re so sweet.”

It was the second time she’d called me that, but I didn’t correct her. Instead, I lifted my glass and she mimicked me. We clinked them together and I watched the glass go to her lips, liquid spilling across her tongue. She took only a small sip, then made a puckered face. I laughed; she definitely didn’t drink much.

“No, no,” I told her, smiling not unkindly. “You need to take it all at once.” I wondered if she caught the innuendo, wondered how she could miss it with the husky lust lacing my tone, but maybe she did. “Let it slide past your tongue in one swallow. It’ll be easier.”

Doing as I suggested, she tipped her head back and downed the whole thing at once. She coughed a little bit and her eyes watered, but she didn’t have much trouble. After a moment, she laughed. “You’re right; it was easier.”

“Would you like another?” I asked her thoughtfully, tilting my head to the side to examine her better.

She thought about it a moment, then nodded. I waved the bartender over again.

Madeline didn’t make it through the second drink and I realized quickly that one was enough. She was suddenly very giggly, her face flushed and her eyes bright with liquor. Apparently, she had no tolerance at all, though I wouldn’t have called her drunk, just a little tipsy. I didn’t push her to drink any more, not wanting some sloppy drunk girl.

“What is that?” she asked.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

She leaned forward, letting her hand slide over my chest. I felt a singe of heat race through me, but then realized she was trailing a finger over my medallion.

“Saint Nicholas,” I told her huskily. “He protects me in my…endeavors.”

“Like a guardian angel?” she asked innocently.

I smiled. “Yes, like a guardian angel.”

“Where are you from?” she asked me, leaning towards me so I could see deep down her dress.

“Originally, Russia, but I’ve spent most of my life in the States now,” I told her easily, letting my eyes roam over her form freely. She didn’t seem to mind.

“I thought that,” she told me, the added, “I mean, the Russia part. ’Cause of the accent. But it’s only a little bit—and it’s sexy anyway, so that’s good.” She was rambling a little bit and must have realized it, because she let out a sweet laugh. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear me rambling.”

I shook my head. “You’ve got a beautiful voice. I’d love to hear it say all kinds of things.”

She licked her lips, then laughed again. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Sexy Russian Nikolai?”

It was my turn to laugh. “How can I help it? When a woman as beautiful as you calls me sexy, I can’t turn down a perfect opportunity, now can I?”

“You think I’m beautiful? Like, really?”

I raised a single eyebrow. “Of course. I meant it when I said that I found it hard to believe you’re here alone. A woman like you should never be alone.” Getting bold, I reached out for her, my hand finding her leg just above her knee. It was bare thanks to the way she’d crossed her legs to sit on the bar stool and her dress riding up slightly higher than it would normally fall.

She sucked in a breath, but didn’t push my hand away. In fact, her eyes flickered over my face and shoulders and chest—maybe even down to my lap—before coming back to my eyes. “You’re…” She shook her head, then smiled. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Only if you want me to,” I promised her, though my voice was low and throaty and filled with dark promises of the night we could have together.

She swallowed, then nodded. “I do.” She blushed.

My hand left her leg to find her delicate hand. I brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it lightly. She let out a fluttery, airy laugh as I stood up, bringing her with me. She swayed a little, but not to the point where I thought I would have to carry her if I wanted her to go somewhere with me. I led her to a darker, more private corner of the bar and she followed me willingly, even eagerly. When I found a relatively empty area, I backed her up into a wall, my hands finding her full hips easily.

She shivered at my touch. She licked her lips once before smiling up at me.

Desire pooling in my groin, I leaned into her, pushing her back farther into the wall as I bent down to her. My lips pressed against her and as soon as the contact was made, heat seared across my skin like fire. I was drunk on her before I even knew what was happening.

It was meant to be a light, teasing kiss, just a taste of what was to come, but at the feel of her soft lips I couldn’t restrain myself. I devoured her, my tongue seeking entrance into her mouth aggressively. Instantly, her lips parted and I swallowed a moan that slipped from her throat. My tongue slid over hers, tasting her, sweet and potent, like perfectly ripe apples. My hands gripped her hips tightly and dragged her to me, our hips crashing together. She must have been able to feel the hardness that suddenly roared to life at the feel of her and I briefly thought it might be enough to scare the shy little thing away.

But the thought fled almost immediately.

Instead of being scared away, her hands went to my waist, her delicate fingers slipping through my belt loops. Then she jerked me forward, urgent and surprisingly strong. A growl rose up in my throat at the action, starting low in my chest until it slipped out into her hungry mouth.

Her leg lifted just as I thought to slide my hand down lower onto her thigh. Perfect. She curled it around me so I felt her calf pressing against my rear, pressing and pulling me closer to her. My hand found bare skin finally and I slid it back up afterwards so I could slide the soft fluttery material of her white summer dress up her thigh, getting higher and higher until I felt the edge of her panties.

If it were possible, I got harder.

She moaned and I broke the kiss to slide my lips lower, licking and nipping at the bare flushed skin of her neck.

“Nikolai,” she breathed, desire and what might have been begging leaking from her voice.

I decided right then to take her home. I needed that dress off. I needed those panties I’d just found off. And I needed to bury my raging hard on in her more than I’d needed anything in a long time. “I’m taking you home,” I growled into her ear just before tugging on the lobe with my teeth.

She shuddered eagerly. “Yes,” was all she could get out, and it was enough for me.

Chapter 3

Madeline

I had been in the city for nearly four years now. I was on my last semester at school, nearly graduated, and it only just occurred to me the other night that I hadn’t done much in the city. My nights were filled with late night latte runs and more studying than could possibly be healthy for a twenty-four-year-old woman. I decided I needed to be out living my life. Yes, my degree in art was incredibly important to me, as was being here in the city at college. My father had made me stay two years after graduating high school to help with the failing farm—which I’d been okay with, because I loved him dearly—and it had only been by getting that scholarship and working hard that I’d been able to go to school at all.

But school couldn’t be the only thing in my life, right?

With this sudden realization in mind, I decided I needed a night out on the town. A town I’d barely even seen. I wasn’t a child anymore, so I decided I should go to the bar. I’d barely had more than a couple of drinks over the course of my entire life, thanks to my big brother, but I was of legal drinking age now and it was time to go out and experiment.

I didn’t know where to go so I did a quick search on the internet. Everyone said the best place in town was this place called Shadow—a place within a short distance, meaning the cab fare wouldn’t be outrageous. That was my destination, I decided.

It took about twenty minutes to get there and if I hadn’t been wearing the only nice dress I owned, I would probably have just walked instead of taking the cab. Most of that time was spent sitting in traffic, so I probably could have walked in the same amount of time.

The bouncer took a long time to convince that my ID was real—everyone was saying I still looked like I could be in high school, though I knew my breasts were large for an adult woman, much less a sixteen-year-old—but, finally, he let me in. I was flushed with excitement, the bar surprising me the moment I stepped in. It was dimly lit, and decorated with soft colors that reminded me of wine and midnight. I’d been thinking the place would probably be a loud, raucous place with bikers and bar fights and drunks slumped across the bar. I was relieved to see I was wrong; the place looked classy.

There were bunches of people around, women in fancy, slinky dresses who made me feel like I was still a girl in high school. Their faces were made up with smoky makeup and their hair was done perfectly, sexily. The men they were hanging on were older, but distinguished and still attractive, clearly wealthy in a way that I was certainly not.

I almost talked myself into leaving right then, but I reminded myself that this was about experiencing new things. I had to be brave.

So, I went to the bar, my eyes catching sight of a tall, dark man already sitting at the bar. He was the kind of gorgeous that made women’s knees weak and their hearts beat erratically in their chests. At least, that was how I felt.

I worked hard to be nonchalant, though I knew he probably wouldn’t even notice me. But I was wrong. He bought me a drink and as his sexy accent—Russian, I learned—slid over me like a lover’s caress; I knew I was lost.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over his strong features, that hard jaw, those full lips, those long, dark lashes framing deep, dark eyes. I even let my eyes wander lower over his muscled chest encased in a dark button-down shirt that was almost too small, and lower still to his lap and the slacks that were just loose enough to let me imagine what might be hidden beneath the folds of fabric.

Things I wasn’t supposed to be thinking. Things I had never let myself think before.

But I thought them now. And I lingered on his mouth for a long time, licking my lips as I let myself wonder what it would be like to feel them press against me. I was blushing, I knew, but couldn’t make myself care. That drink had given me liquid courage, made me bold and flirty, and I liked it. I wanted to keep talking to him. And when his hand slid onto my leg, I wanted to touch him.

By the time my back was against that wall and his body was covering mine, I thought I might be going crazy. He had me burning up, my breasts heaving as I tried desperately to catch my breath and calm my raging heartbeat. But I couldn’t. His touch was like fire and passion, my own body responding to him eagerly. I wanted so much from him—everything from him. His hands burned through the thin fabric of my dress, leaving scorching handprints on my hips, making me wish there was less between us. And then his lips were against mine and I was lost. Lost, lost, lost.

His mouth devoured me, consumed me whole until I was his. I just knew it, felt it.

I felt wanton. Desire coursed through my veins like blood and the jackhammering beat of my heart pushed it faster through me until I was spiraling farther into lust. I didn’t care. This wasn’t me, had never been me, but I didn’t care. How long had I played by the rules, been the good girl? My entire life. Wasn’t I entitled to at least a small taste of the things I had been missing?

Maybe I thought so, maybe I didn’t. There was a good chance that I was just rationalizing the way I lifted my leg, bending it at the knee so I could hook it around Nikolai’s back, pulling him closer. I felt him hard against my thigh and felt a new sweep of lust pour through me. This was so new, but I didn’t care if my lack of experience showed or not. I wanted him, desperately.

His hand slipped from my hips down to my lifted leg, trailing until he found the bare skin of my thigh. I sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, electricity surging through me, my skin on fire. His hand moved back up again, but he’d found the hem of my dress and he took that with him. When his fingers brushed against my panties, in a place no man had ever been before, I might have whimpered into his mouth. I couldn’t be sure.

At the same time, he had broken our passionate, explorative kiss so he could drag his tongue hungrily down my neck. I shivered at the contact—at his tongue, his lips, his hands—and when his mouth finally made it to my ear, his hot breath washing over me like a caress, he said, “I’m taking you home.”

And this time I did whimper, only it came out in a velvety, lusty word, “Yes.”

The only downside to this I could see was he had to stop touching me. He pulled away, letting my leg drop back down to the floor, making me feel like I was standing on Jell-O, ready to collapse any moment. He then made a point of smoothing my dress back down over my thigh. A touch that was courteous and still made my blood boil with need. Taking my hand, he led me back through the bar filled with the rich and the beautiful, crossing the room to the exit. He led me outside to a black, sleek-looking car that was probably foreign and looked very expensive.

Like a gentleman, he opened the passenger door for me. “Do you have a car here?” he asked, his voice low and husky, telling me he was impatient but trying to keep himself in check.

I felt a thrill unlike anything else at the idea that I had something to do with that impatience. I shook my head, breathing heavily. “No. I took a cab.”

He nodded once. “Good.” Then he closed the door and I had a moment alone in the car where I noticed the interior smelled like clean leather with a mix of something just barely sweet, almost fruity. The dash looked like it was some sort of fancy computer and the back looked luxurious if seriously lacking in leg room. Not that it mattered, I wasn’t in the back.

The driver’s door popped open and he slipped inside, combing his thick hair back with a large hand—a hand that had just been on my body, sliding over my curves and skin like they belonged to him—before starting the engine. “We’re only a few minutes away,” he told me, and then we peeled out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

I laughed at the sudden movement and he looked over at me, his eyes taking a long moment to rake over my body. That look, hot and hungry, was enough to cause the laughter to die in my throat. My breath caught and I realized I was going home with a complete stranger. All I knew was his name, and not even his last name.

It was dangerous and maybe a little stupid, but it was so exciting. I thought my heart might burst. I had never gone home with a stranger before, never done anything like this before, but I wanted it. I wanted him.

I told myself that I was ready. That sex with him was what I wanted.

The drive there was quick but silent. It didn’t matter. The air around us was so charged I could barely breathe, and I saw his hand twitch once or twice as though he was desperate to do something—like reach over to caress my body once again. A thought that had me thinking crazy things.

We pulled up outside a high-rise building, like one of those fancy places you see along the skylines of the biggest cities. It was modern and sleek, with several trees and some weird metal sculpture out front. We got out of the car, Nikolai opened the door for me again, and he put his hand at the small of my back, guiding me into the building. He had to use a keycard to even get into the lobby. There was someone at the front desk idly flipping through a newspaper—Nikolai waved briefly and the man nodded in acknowledgement—then he steered us to the elevator, his hand at the small of my back, jamming a thumb into the button. He became impatient with the elevator and, no longer able to wait, his hand slid down over the swell of my rear and squeezed.

I let out a gasp just as the doors opened, and I saw him grin in the mirrors that lined the interior of the elevator.

When we stepped in and the door closed, he pushed me against the wall and kissed me. It was like fire all over again, his mouth tasting like butter and fresh snow and something sinfully delicious. I groaned into it, melting into him as his hands wrapped around my waist, dragging me to him.

He caressed my body, all over the top of my dress, driving me slowly insane. Just when he reached the neckline of my dress, his fingertips just barely skating across the tops of my breasts, the door pinged and opened.

He pulled away in an instant and escorted me down the hall as though there had been nothing hot and heavy going on in the elevator at all. Except his eyes darted to me every couple of seconds and I could see a fire burning in them unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

I shuddered at the heat in his gaze.

He led me into an apartment that could have been a house. It had to have been bigger than my house back home, much less my crummy, sorry excuse for a studio apartment I had now. It was furnished with modern black furniture, which included a large, plush-looking leather sofa, a coffee table with swirling silver designs etched into the top, and stools set out in a straight line of three along the bar portion of the kitchen counter which had the same swirling silver designs as the coffee table. There were lamps, too, with the same dim kind of lighting as the bar, though in normal tones, and a window at the far end of the wall across from us that was floor to ceiling and might have opened up onto a balcony.

That was all I had the time to take in, because when I turned around to tell Nikolai he had a beautiful apartment, I saw he was already unbuttoning his dark wine colored shirt. I swallowed heavily, my breath catching in my throat as he revealed a wide expanse of smooth, rock hard muscle coated with taut tanned skin.

“Are you ready?” he asked me huskily, his accent thicker with lust and hunger.

I wasn’t, but I was, and even if I wasn’t, I couldn’t resist him. Not now. Not when everything in my body burned with an insatiable need for him. I nodded, because it was all that I could do.

“Good.”

Chapter 4

Nikolai

I stripped out of my shirt as soon as I had the door closed, my hard member pressing against my slacks, demanding attention from her. She wasn’t the sort of girl I usually picked up from a bar. She wasn’t the easy, overly made up, belly hanging out type that always screamed sex and wanton, lusty desire.

Madeline seemed nearly the opposite of that.

Which wasn’t to say she didn’t want me, because there was no question as to that fact. I knew it at the bar, in the car, and before we’d gotten off that elevator. There was something urgent, almost frantic in her need for me, as though I was the first and only thing she had ever needed like that before.

My hands worked at my belt. By this time, she’d turned to face me, her eyes trailing over the hard muscles of my chest now exposed to her gaze. She looked flushed, her breathing almost ragged with want.

“Are you ready?” I asked her, my accent laced with a hunger that was beginning to drive me mad.

She nodded her head, her eyes locked on my hands as they tugged the belt free of the loops. I thought about using the belt in bed, maybe tying her up with it or just lightly smacking her perky round rear with the leather, but ultimately, I decided I was too impatient for such games. I wanted her now.

A sly, sensual grin spread across my lips. “Good.”

She sucked her lower lip between her teeth again, worrying it until it was a plump, rosy pink, and I knew I was going to have to do something about that. I was going to have to pull it from her teeth and soothe it with my tongue before nibbling on it myself. I decided I’d even mirror my plans for the lips between her legs.

I popped open the button of my slacks as I walked towards her predatorily. She seemed unable to move, frozen by my nakedness and my aggression, almost shy despite the way she’d all but thrust her body into my waiting hands at the bar.

But that was okay; I’d warm her up to me again.

I slipped the zipper of my slacks down so they hung loosely about my hips now, low enough that the dark trail of hair—trim, but definitely there—could be seen above the black fabric. By this time, I was standing right in front of Madeline, and she was still very overdressed.

I reached for her, my large hands sliding through her thick, silky blonde hair. “I would almost take you right here and now,” I whispered to her huskily, letting my gaze rake across her body, lingering on her lips and her breasts so she knew I was looking at her. “On the couch, on the coffee table, on the floor. It wouldn’t matter. Except I want to take my time with you. I intend to explore that full, sultry body of yours until I’ve had my hands, my mouth on every inch of you.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes wide, but not with fear. Oh, no, she wasn’t afraid of me. She was desperate for me. Desire filled every corner of her being until she looked like she might burst from it.

Good.

“Would you like that?” I asked, lowering my voice to little more than a low growl in my throat, twirling a piece of hair in my fingers.

She let out a shuddering breath and nodded, but I decided that wasn’t enough anymore. Letting her hair go, I put my hand on her skin, starting just below her soft jaw and trailing it down slowly across her neck. It was like fire igniting beneath me and it made me harder still.

“No, no more nodding. I want to hear you say it, Madeline,” I told her firmly, seriously. “I want you to say you want what I’m about to do to you.”

She opened her mouth, her lip quivering as her eyes worked hard to keep locked on mine. Her skin was flushed with bright heat, her freckles almost glowing with it, and I remembered how I’d wanted to see where else her freckles were.

“Well?” I asked her, teasing, but also insistent. She’d do as I said. “Say it.”

A little whimper escaped her mouth first and I thought maybe she wouldn’t be able to do it at all, too wrapped up in lust and need, but then she whispered to me in a tiny voice that was almost high on lust. “I want…you to…to touch me, Nikolai. Everywhere. I want…” She swallowed harshly, her throat moving beneath the fingers I still had lightly set against her neck. “I want your mouth on me.”

And that was all I needed. I jerked her against me, startling a cry from her right before I swallowed it by placing my mouth over hers. I kissed her as though I was drinking from her, parting her lips to explore the cavity of her mouth, tasting her and imagining the other places I would taste her at the same time. She was putty in my arms, clutching at me, her hands almost clawing at my bare chest as though she needed more of me but wasn’t sure how to get it. She was almost frantic and I loved it.

My hands went to her hips, jerking her to me so my almost exposed erection was right between her legs, only the thin fabrics of her dress and panties and my slacks preventing raw contact.

I shuddered at the promise of that.

No longer willing to wait for anything tonight, I let my hands move around her hips to cup the sweet swells of her rear. She moaned into my mouth as I squeezed her butt, then lifted her. Automatically, her legs opened and she wrapped them around my middle so her skirt had lifted up, leaving only panties between me and what I desired so eagerly tonight.

She held tightly to my shoulders, her short nails just barely digging into the skin there, clutching at me as I carried her from the living room to the back bedroom. She was so engrossed in me that she didn’t see the king-sized bed with the wine-red satin sheets or the black duvet. Not until I broke the kiss and threw her down onto it.

She looked up at me in surprise, her eyes hazy with lust, and licked her lips. I growled as I watched that small pink tongue slip out to moisten her lips and briefly I considered putting my cock between those wet lips so I could feel her tongue sliding against my shaft.

But I was too wound up for that and I didn’t want to spill myself into her mouth. I had other places in mind for that.

“I want that dress off,” I told her gruffly, about to jerk down my pants to finally free myself. But I paused when she slowly sat up, one thin strap slipping down over her shoulder, leaving it bare and tan and smooth, skittered by more soft freckles.

She looked away from me, shy once again, and with trembling fingers began to undo the front of her dress. I frowned, pausing for just a second. Long enough to think that was odd, but then she popped the first two buttons, her ample cleavage bursting forth, and I forgot what it was I thought was strange in the first place.

Deciding she was taking entirely too long, I jerked the front of her dress open, popping several buttons and making her gasp. Then I pulled her up off the bed just long enough so I could jerk the dress off of her, showing that her bra was white and lacy and matched her low-cut panties. They even had tiny satin bows on them and I almost laughed.

Definitely not the kind of girl I usually took home.

I popped the clasp of her bra with one hand as the other snaked down into her panties. She gasped, her skin covered in a delicate arrangement of freckles that was almost artful and deliberately placed across her body. I grinned at her and yanked away her bra. Her hands went to cover her belly, which were large and heavy, but still perky enough that I wanted to watch them bounce. My hand left her panties so I could grab her wrists, forcing her arms away so she was open to me again.

“No,” was all I said, then I pushed her back down onto the bed.

Her belly bounced animatedly, her rosy pink nipples already crinkled and hard. She let out a little cry of surprise, but I didn’t give her time to think or recover before my hands were back in her panties. I explored only enough to confirm that she was slick with her own need, then ripped them from her body.

She stared at me in surprise as the fabric tore, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she just groaned what sounded like my name.

“I’m hungry to taste you, Madeline,” I told her as I lifted her legs, hooking them so the knees were bent and slid over my shoulders. My hands gripping at her smooth thighs, her breathing rapid, I dipped my head lower, and when my tongue slid across her, she jerked up towards me and cried out what I knew was my name.

“Nikolai!”

After that, she was a writhing mess beneath me. I tasted her—sweet and tangy and delicious—devouring her lips and even sliding my tongue into her opening, which was so tight, like she’d never even had anything in there before. It was wonderful.

After a few minutes of her crying and whimpering and begging, undulating beneath my ministrations, my mouth focused her clit. I sucked at it and rolled it around my tongue while I slipped a single thick finger inside her. She tensed at the intrusion at first, but as I continued to fondle and suck at her, she relaxed quickly and continued her moans of pleasure.

Goodness, she was tight, and for a moment I worried that my significant size would hurt her. Deciding to open her a little wider first, I added a second finger. Again, she tensed, but she relaxed almost immediately as I sucked at her. I must have kept my face between her legs for ten or fifteen minutes, simply devouring her quivering pussy. I’d added three of my thick fingers by this time, curling them and uncurling them inside her, making her wanton with lust. I made her come once and took a moment to indulge in that release while letting her recover.

When she was still coming down off her high, I removed my mouth and my fingers. She whimpered at the loss, calling for me. She didn’t even sound like she knew what she was asking for, but it didn’t matter. I knew what she wanted.

I stood and jerked my pants down, letting my aching, dripping erection spring free finally. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor must have caught her attention, because her eyes snapped open and focused first on my face, then lower to my erect cock. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes wide, but she didn’t protest when I settled between her legs, this time our hips lining up.

She shuddered as I slid my cock along her folds, moistening it before positioning myself at her opening. There was a moment where I could have sworn there was fear in her eyes. It was enough to make me pause.

“You can tell me to stop,” I said to her huskily, though my body was screaming to just drive into her until we were both lost in oblivion. Still, I may have been the kind of man to indulge in the pleasures of women, taking what I wanted when I wanted it, but I never wanted something from a woman who didn’t want it, too.

“No, please don’t stop,” she said, and that was enough.

I pushed the bulbous head between her folds and popped inside of her, her pussy so tight that I groaned at having just that little bit in her. She had tensed again, so I gave her a moment to adjust. My hands massaged her thighs, her hips, her perfect belly. I rolled them around on my palms and pinched at the nipples until she was whimpering again, relaxed enough once more for me to add more of myself inside of her.

It seemed to take an agonizing eternity before I was fully sheathed inside of her, but when I was, I could feel the very back of her. Her hands had found their way around my neck, clutching herself to me tightly. Her bare breasts pressed against my chest, feeling perfect and soft and making me want to do more things with those. Later. Because right now, my toe was inside of her, and that was almost more than I could handle.

When I began my thrusts, short and insistent, she cried out every time, holding on to me tightly. But the problem with that was I couldn’t see much of her. And I really wanted to. Getting a hold of her wrists, I pulled her hands away from me and pinned them above her head, exposing her bare, perfect body to my hungry gaze.

“I need to see you,” I told her simply, and before she could say one way or the other, the pace and depth of my thrusts increased.

She threw her head back, her blonde locks splayed out across the bed as her mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ that I decided, one day, I would slide myself into.

She was making little mewling noises, incoherent begging, as I made her mine for the night. Her body was so tight and so much smaller than mine, perfect and better than anything I would have imagined on my own. Her breasts bounced and rolled, their movement erotic, sensual. I decided I wanted to try her from behind—but only if there was a mirror. Because I still wanted to see her. I wanted to see her breasts hanging low, bouncing heavily as I pounded into her, and I wanted her to be able to see me, too.

And as soon as that idea struck me, I was hooked on it. “Madeline,” I ground out, my voice so low and gravelly that it was barely even able to form words. “Look at me.” Her eyes snapped open and focused on me, but that wasn’t what I meant. “No, look at me. At where we’re joined. At where I claim you over and over again.”

Her eyes widened, as though she’d never watched before as a man drove into her, and I took some pleasure in knowing we were doing something new together. Hesitant, her blush furious, her eyes darted between her bodies and when she caught sight of me plowing into her already swollen lips, she let out an “Oh!” of surprise.

And that was it. All it took to finally push me over the edge. I bucked into her maybe a half a dozen more times, but I could already feel myself unraveling inside of her. I spilled myself, buried as deep as I could, hips pressed into hers, and when I was finally emptied, she was so full that some of it had to slip out.

***

We were exhausted enough to take a break, but I wasn’t done with her. I hadn’t anticipated wanting more than a quick lay from her, but now that I’d had a taste, I found myself just wanting more. A lot more.

So, I fed her by way of ordering Chinese takeout and gave her root beer—because it was nonalcoholic and I knew now that she was too much of a lightweight for something like wine—to wash it down with. We didn’t talk about anything important beyond a little bit about where she was from—a farm out in the country somewhere, growing up with her dad and her brother, her mother dead—which was less about getting to know each other as it was about letting my hand slip between her thighs again.

Before we’d even really finished out food, I was all over her again. I was groping her rear and her breasts, manhandling her, maybe a little rougher than I should have been, but she never gave a word of protest. No, in fact all her noises were encouraging, begging even. She wanted everything I was giving her and more.

This time I pushed her to the luxurious bathroom and into the shower, the hot water cascading our bodies and washing away the dried sweat from earlier. I took the careful time to wash her and even let her do the same to me—she was getting braver beneath my hands, going so far as to slide her own palm over my lengthening shaft to wash it. By the time we were done with the soap, I had her pushed up against the cool tile wall so I could slide into her from behind.

She groaned and moaned and cried out, begging me to continue, lost in the feeling of me buried deep inside of her.

Not that I could blame her. I wasn’t much better. I was grunting, making guttural sounds of pleasure as I pounded into her, my hands gripping her hips and rear so tightly that there might even be bruises tomorrow.

Something told me she wouldn’t mind.

By the time I was spent, we’d both come again and we were both so exhausted that I had no problem with her sliding up next to me in bed and falling asleep with her head against my chest. It wasn’t normally my thing and I mustered just enough energy to worry that it would cause undue attachment come morning, but then I drifted off anyway and indulged in a little closeness with the woman beside me.

It wouldn’t last—no one wanted a contract killer as the romantic lead in their life—but for tonight, it would do.

Chapter 5

Madeline

When I woke up the next morning, it took me a moment to realize where I was. But only a moment, because then I realized a warm body was pressed up against my backside, strong arms wrapped around my middle, a large hand settled precariously close to my most private parts. And then there was the soreness. An almost dull ache between my legs and a soreness in my thighs as though I’d just been doing lunges for half the day yesterday. And I was pretty sure I had bruises in a couple of different places.

That all probably should have upset me, but as I recalled the events of the previous night, I couldn’t really let it.

Nikolai had been an incredible lover.

A part of me niggled, trying to make me feel guilty about what had happened. I’d gone to a bar and had a drink, let a stranger take me home, and then let him do all kinds of private, even dirty things to me.

He put his mouth on me, I thought to myself, feeling a blush race across my bare flesh. It wasn’t that I didn’t know about these kinds of things, I just hadn’t…well, hadn’t done them before. I never would have thought that a guy would want to slide his tongue across my nether lips.

But Nikolai had. And it had been amazing. All of it had been amazing.

He was bigger than I’d been expecting, so much so I’d nearly begun to panic, but he was so careful, taking his time with my body until I adjusted to his considerable size. At least, I thought it was considerable. Surely not all men were as…well-endowed as Nikolai was.

It doesn’t matter, I thought happily, snuggling up closer to him by wiggling my rear against his crotch where it was already nestled tightly. I’m here with him. I don’t need to know what other men look like.

And that was the truth. Yes, I had done this all backwards. I should have taken the time to get to know Nikolai better first. Then we could have dated for a while and maybe he would have eventually asked me to marry him. After the wedding, that was when this night should have happened, and that did make me feel just a little bit guilty.

My parents had instilled a very specific set of values in me, after all, and last night had gone against just about all of them. Sex was a special, private thing to be shared only with the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with. I knew I should have waited, but I’d never felt that sort of need for a man before, and even if we did it backwards, it could still work out all right, right?

I had convinced myself of how this all would work out when I felt something stir, growing hard between the cheeks of my rear end. A blush blossomed across my cheeks, even after all we had done the night before. Twice. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do, but despite my soreness, well, I wouldn’t mind having another amorous encounter with Nikolai’s manhood.

He began to stir behind me, letting out a gruff grunt that whispered through my hair. His arm slung across my middle, his hand slipping over my body to come up and cup my breast. I groaned softly at the contact. My body responded by arching my back and pushing my rear farther into his crotch. By this time, he was definitely hard, just as he’d been the night before, and my breath caught at the thought that, perhaps, this would happen again.

“Good morning,” he said in a low, husky voice.

I smiled a little, looking over my shoulder at him. “Good morning. I…um, had a really good time last night,” I told him shyly, because I didn’t really know what you were supposed to do after. Especially in this situation. If we were married already, maybe it would be different, but we weren’t and this was a tentative area. There was so little we knew about each other and it would take time to forge memories and connections, but I was eager to start.

He laughed a little at me; I could feel it rumbling through his chest and vibrating back through me. It was delicious.

“Mm. Me, too. But I think we need some more practice.” He pressed himself against me and rubbed so he was sliding between my cheeks, though he hadn’t pushed into me again. “Don’t you?”

Which was incredibly erotic, but I was a little saddened by his words. “Oh. I’m sorry about that. I…I mean, I was hoping you wouldn’t know that it was my first time, but I can learn whatever you prefer and—”

I didn’t get any farther than that. Suddenly, Nikolai stopped rubbing and his hand released my breast. It took just a second more, and then he was throwing back the covers, pulling away from me.

Confused, I rolled over and sat up so I could see him better. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking tense, maybe even angry.

“Nikolai?” I asked, concerned. I reached for him, but when my hand brushed his bare, muscular shoulder, he flinched and shot up to a standing position. My eyes trailed down his body of their own accord, admiring his tapered waist and his firm, muscled backside. I’d never thought I would like the way a man’s butt looked, but I did. I wanted to curl my hands around it and urge him into me.

“Sorry,” he said curtly, suddenly. He began to pull on a pair of pants and I wondered what he was doing. Was he going somewhere?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling the covers up to my chest to cover myself, feeling the shift in the morning and knowing that, somehow, I’d done something wrong.

He shook his head once, but didn’t look at me. “Nothing. I just can’t lie around in bed all day. I can’t afford to be lazy. I have work, a job, you know?”

I frowned. A moment ago, he’d been thrilled with the idea of staying in bed with me, hadn’t he? Sure, he’d said I needed practice, but…well, I thought he was willing to be part of that practice. His erection had certainly hinted at that.

“But—”

He dragged a shirt on, covering his bare, godlike chest as he interrupted me. He still wouldn’t look at me. “I have somewhere to be. There’s coffee if you want, but I have to go.”

Then he turned away and walked out. A few moments later, I heard the door slam behind me and I understood what it meant: time to go. A wash of sadness and embarrassment—worse, shame—rolled through me like a tidal wave, admonishing me silently for what I’d done.

This was why you didn’t go home with strangers. This was why it should always be marriage before sex. This was why the rest of the world was so horrid.

I shook a little as I clutched the sheet to my chest, staring at the spot where I’d last seen Nikolai, as though maybe he might be just kidding or confused and turn around and come back. Maybe this was a test to see if I would leave, or a joke.

But all of my ridiculous ideas were just that: ridiculous.

I had been dismissed. More than that, I’d been given the cold shoulder, making it perfectly clear that I was no longer welcome here in his apartment or in his bed. A sorrowful cry rang through me, but I quickly put a stopper on it. There was no point in crying, especially since I still had to catch a cab home.

So, I slid out of bed and searched for my clothing, dragging the sheet around with me so I wouldn’t have to do it naked. Though I was alone, I was no longer comfortable being undressed here in this apartment. I found my dress quickly, but it took longer to find the bra. I spent probably ten minutes looking for my panties before finding them and promptly realizing they were no longer wearable. They were mere tatters of fabric now and I knew I would have to go home without wearing any at all.

Hot embarrassment raced through me again as I got my bra and dress on. It seemed like a flimsy, racy outfit now in the light of day with the bed in disarray behind me, making my shame so much worse.

How could I have been so stupid?

After squashing a last, fleeting hope in which I leave my number and he gets back to me, I left the apartment, called a cab, and waited just outside the lobby doors until he arrived. I tried not to look guilty when I slid in, giving him my address, but I felt as though he knew. He had to.

Sliding down low in the seat, I closed my eyes and held back the tears.

Chapter 6

Nikolai

Present Day

I was getting closer to the wholesome kid carpenter whose head Mickey wanted served on a silver platter. My time was running out if I wanted that bonus, but, more importantly, it was becoming a matter of pride to find him.

Every time it seemed like I was getting closer to Logan, it was a dead end. But not in the truest sense of the word. He’d have been there just moments before, and then he was gone. Seen at a bar? I’d hear squealing tires and the sound of a bottle being thrown out a window. Eating at a restaurant? They’d be clearing the table as I walked in. Had reservations at a hotel? Already checked out.

So close, yet somehow slipping through my fingers. A large part of that was due to the obvious need for subtlety. I wasn’t about to kill anyone out in the open, not if I didn’t think I could get a clear shot and walk away. And I wasn’t going to have a high-speed chase with a drunk kid who didn’t know what the heck he was doing. Too many bystanders, and bystanders meant police, and police meant attention—for me and for Mickey. I was hired to be discreet, and that was exactly what I would be.

The second reason I was being maybe a little more cautious with taking a shot with him was wholly different: I needed to know where the money was.

There was a good chance he had it on him, or at the very least in the car or hotel with him, because that would be the stupid thing to do.

Hiding the money did two things: it meant that if he were caught by anyone—the mob or the police—he could have plausible deniability; no money, clearly, they couldn’t be the culprits. It also meant if there was a price out on his head, which clearly there was, whoever was out to kill him, namely me, would have to interrogate him instead of just killing him outright. It bought him time, even if it might involve a lot of bad pain.

Since those two things qualified as smart things to do, I was inclined to think Logan hadn’t considered either of them. Maybe it was the fact that he’d stolen from the mob, or maybe it was that he’d killed a man in the process, but Logan didn’t really strike me as the intelligent type.

“Of course, for a stupid man, he’s awfully good at running,” I muttered to myself as I checked the clip in my gun before getting out of the car. Probably, I was once again too late. I sincerely doubted he was still here, but I wasn’t going in there unprotected.

I got out of the car, tucking my gun into the waistband of my jeans. The place looked like a real piece of trash from the outside and I had the sneaking suspicion that inside wouldn’t be much better. The sign out front was blinking in bright red neon. It alternated between Vacancy and No Vacancy and I was pretty sure that wasn’t intentional. I headed inside, pushing through the glass door with the little bell overhead that chimed obnoxiously.

Inside, I was correct. Not particularly classy, but definitely cheap. The lobby was small with a little fat TV, which didn’t appear to be working, set up in the upper right corner attached to the wall, and a front desk that was just big enough for a guestbook, a light, and an old computer that looked like it probably still had a black screen with green lettering. Sitting behind this desk was a woman who was probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She had so much makeup on that it was impossible to tell. It looked like she bought out a cosmetics store, then tried to use all of it at once. Her eyes, which were meant to be smoky, looked like a bandit mask and her lips were bright red, but smeared across her jaw on one side, and when she looked up at me and smiled, I saw it was smeared on her teeth, too.

There was every possibility that she was beautiful beneath the makeup, but I would probably never know.

She batted her eyelashes—fake, too, I was pretty sure—at me, telling me instantly what I needed to know: she was a flirt, she already liked me, and she would probably tell me whatever I wanted without much of a fuss.

I smiled at her with my best, sexiest smile. The one I used at the bars to seduce attractive young women. Instantly, I could almost see her melt beneath my gaze.

“Hello,” I greeted, letting my accent slip through a little thicker, because she looked like the kind of woman who would get turned on by it.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her breasts, which were all but pouring from her low-cut tank top, heaving. She stuck a pen in her mouth as she said, “Hi-ya. Did you…need a room? ’Cause I’m sure I can find you one if you’re looking.” She winked at me like maybe she was talking about something else.

“I was actually just looking for my friend,” I said, setting an elbow on the counter and leaning forward. I flashed a bright smile. “But now I think I’ve found something better.” I dragged my eyes over her features, as though to tell her that I was not only pleased by them, but desirous of her. Which I wasn’t. I examined her cleavage, her breasts round and heavy, but sagged slightly as a result. Her waist, from what I could tell, wasn’t huge, but it lacked the gentle curvature of a truly beautiful woman. She seemed to be an odd mix of plushness and hard lines, making all of her features just shy of really attractive. Still, she was probably a decent lay and maybe I would be interested in some extracurricular activities with her later. I hadn’t been with anyone for a while now—not since Madeline, that beautiful, feisty virgin who, try as I might, I couldn’t seem to completely forget about—and it was starting to show. I found myself getting more frustrated, more annoyed.

Yes, a quick roll in the hay would probably do me some good. Still, the woman before me was hardly what I was looking for. Unfortunately, I was now looking for the perfect body attached to bright eyes and a shy smile. Things I’d never been looking for before.

The woman giggled, leaning over farther until I saw the edge of her areola, her nipple trying to escape the confines of the fabric. It was deliberate, of course, but instead of turning me on, I found myself a little put off that she would be so…easy.

But, for my purposes, this was good.

“And what might that be?” she asked as she narrowed her eyes at me.

I stared at her cleavage to the point where it would be rude anywhere else as I answered, “an incredibly sexy woman.”

She giggled again, tossing her hair and pulling her arms together so they squeezed her breasts tightly together, emphasizing her cleavage even more. “You’re just saying that.”

I shook my head, though I was. “No, I’m not. How can someone as devastating as you even think that?”

She licked her lips, which probably tasted like waxy lipstick. I couldn’t imagine kissing her. “Well, then maybe you are looking for a room for…you know, a little entertainment?” She winked again, her long lashes making it look exaggerated.

I forced a sigh, as though I was regretting my next words. “I would, but I’m already late to meet my friend—he’s supposed to be here, but maybe after…?” I let my words trail off, insinuating that our time together would come when I found what I was looking for.

She pouted a little and said, “Well, how long do you think it’ll take?”

I lifted my shoulder. “Not long. I just need to drop something off for him, but I think he may have given me the wrong hotel, now that I think about it.” I pretended to think about it, then snapped my fingers. “I know! Would you be able to look him up and see if he’s a guest here?”

She hesitated. Technically, asking if someone was staying at the motel was okay. It was when I started asking other questions that she would probably have to halt me to save her own job, but I’d wait on those. Maybe I would have to sleep with her to get her to do some things for me, but it was too early to tell.

“Well, okay. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Of course not. After all, he’s my friend and he told me to meet him. I just need to make sure he’s here and that I haven’t missed him.” I smiled at her reassuringly, and it worked.

She nodded her head and said, “Hang on jut a sec. Let me check the computer. What was his name?”

“Logan King.”

The sound of typing filled up the room for a long moment, then silence. The computer was slower than a snail, but after a while it beeped at her. “Okay, looks like he was here.” She frowned. “But he checked out today. Sorry, I think you just missed him. He only stayed a night. Oh, that’s right! I remember him now. Blond guy, kind of cute—I mean, if you go for that whole wholesome thing, which I mean, I don’t.” She was rambling and looking me up and down as she spoke, making it clear that she was still very interested in me.

“Do you remember anything else about him?”

She blinked at me, surprised by my sudden interrogative question, and I silently cursed myself. I was pretending to be a friend, not a cop, and if she started to think I was lying to her, I would lose this. I forced a smile. “I just mean, do you remember him mentioning me? Or maybe leaving a note for where he’s staying next? I should have known I’d be too late.”

She relaxed a little and said, “Oh, nothing like that. I remember he paid in cash and drove off this morning in that red pickup of his, you know, the one with the dented door?”

I smiled at her. “You know, I’ll bet you his sister has his number. I’ll give her a call and figure out where he’s going. You’ve been so much help.”

She looked a little put out. “You’re leaving?”

I paused. She was looking at me hungrily. I considered going up to a room with her and just having my way with her. If she went down on me for a little bit, I would probably get hard enough to go for a while at least, though she wasn’t really what I found myself wanting.

But it had been a while. And I wasn’t going to see Madeline ever again. I didn’t do relationships and I didn’t do second rounds with women, not even when they were that good in bed. If I wanted to take care of myself, I had better do it now.

Yet when my gaze flickered to her fake eyelashes and her dull eyes, I just smiled and winked at her. “I have to take care of this first, but I’ll come back for you. After all, you did promise me a room and entertainment.”

I left her giggling and all but panting after me, but I knew I’d never be back.

Chapter 7

Madeline

I was sitting on the floor next to the door, because there wasn’t really any room for a couch. I was going to get a beanbag at some point, but just never got around to it. And I never had guests, so I figured it didn’t matter. Studying was done on my bed or at the library or some shop with Shawn, so what did it matter if I had a table or a couch or even a chair? I had a bed and a kitchen with a built-in counter. What else did I need?

A crib.

The thought came unbidden and I felt panic rise up in my chest as a result. A crib. And diapers. Baby clothes. Vitamins and doctor appointments and a million other things I couldn’t afford. Not to mention I would be doing it alone. I didn’t just mean the sexy Nikolai, but also my family. It was just my dad and my brother left, but neither of them would understand. Their value system was strict and unforgiving, making it perfectly clear that a pregnancy before marriage would be completely unacceptable.

And I wasn’t stupid enough to think Nikolai was going to burst through that door at any moment to profess his undying love to me.

Just the idea of it made my heart hurt with want, but I pushed it aside. I had other things to focus on, much more important than some stupid guy who I should have known better than to sleep with in the first place.

There were three tests in the pregnancy kit I found at the store. They were all identical little sticks, each individually wrapped, and I ended up using them all. I read on the package that there was a chance for a false positive, though it was so low as to be nearly negligible, so I was really hoping that was the case. Except that when I went through all of those tests, they all said the same thing in a little pink line.

Positive.

Which meant it couldn’t be a false alarm. The statistics of getting that many false positives were just stacked against me. It was impossible, and I was most definitely pregnant.

It explained the missed periods and the nausea—which I was now pretty sure was morning sickness. I was an unwed pregnant woman with the father nowhere in sight. Everything that would disappoint my father so much. The thought that my family would be so ashamed, so disappointed, filled me with sorrow. How could I tell them? What could I do?

And that was the moment when it finally occurred to me that I had options. None of them were good, none of them appealed to me in any way, but I wasn’t without a choice. Years ago, in the past, that wouldn’t have been the case, but now…

I could have the baby and give it up for adoption. I didn’t have to be a mother while I struggled through my last semester of college, debated going for my Master’s, and dealt with all of the judgmental stares I would inevitably receive. I could spend the next few months with limited contact with my family—just phone conversations and maybe Skype—and wear baggy clothing while in school. Then, I could have the baby, give it up for adoption, and tell people I’d put on a little weight at school because of all the stress. No one would think twice about it.

The flaw with that plan, however, was the fact that Shawn was here. He’d been my best friend for a long time now and he was close with my family. Both my father and my brother knew him well and trusted him to the ends of the earth. Which was great, except in this instance. If I tried to temporarily shut my family out to protect my secret, Shawn was here to tell them all about it. He noticed everything about me. He’d definitely notice that I was putting on some weight, and there was no way I’d be able to hide it from him.

Which meant I’d have to tell him and beg him to keep it all a secret.

I didn’t think I could do that.

Whittling down my options, I came to the last one, the one I dreaded the most: abortion. My family was against this, too, and would probably never forgive me if they ever found out, but it was my best chance at keeping a secret like this. I could…terminate it before the weight started to show, tell Shawn I just had a bug, and go on like none of it ever happened. No one would ever have to know.

Except I would know.

I pulled my legs up to my chest, keeping my back to the wall. What was I supposed to do? What was the answer? I needed a magic wand to wave around and fix everything.

But there was no magic and I was stuck with the reality of the choices I had made.

I was still sitting there when there was a knock on the door. It startled me, making me jump and scramble up to my feet. Who was it?

Then Shawn’s voice came through the door. “I brought popcorn and movies.”

I had cancelled the movie night plans, but it looked like Shawn didn’t care. He was like that sometimes, pushy and butting in even when I just needed a little me time. I loved him to death, but sometimes he was like a little brother who would just not leave me be.

“Um, now’s not really a good time,” I called back, wiping at my face and trying desperately to keep my voice even. If he heard the tears in my tone, he’d never leave. He’d stand there all night until I finally caved and let him in.

“What’s wrong?”

Uh-oh. Apparently, I had not successfully made myself sound normal. “Nothing. I’m…um, still not feeling great.”

“I’ll make you some soup. Let me in, Madeline.”

“That’s really not necessary. I think I’m contagious, you know?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind being sick. We can stay in together and watch stupid movies and pig out on ice cream. It’ll be great.”

I winced. Sometimes his ideas of great were a little out there. Sure, the hanging out was good and all, but being sick to do it? I’d rather just slither under the covers and die there for a while until the sick passed. “Um, no, don’t do that. You don’t want to be sick!” But even as I said it, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Now that I was here and he knew I was sick, that was it. He wouldn’t give up.

“C’mon, just let me in. I’ll take care of you until you feel better.”

Sighing, I relinquished. I’d have to let him in. So, I made sure that my eyes were at least dry and I opened up the door, forcing a smile as best I could. It didn’t work. As soon as he saw my face, he knew something was up.

“Madeline, what’s wrong?” he asked, pushing his way in and putting the popcorn and movies on the counter—right next to the pregnancy tests. He froze.

I closed my eyes, steadying myself, before opening them and looking back at him. “Oh, Shawn, I don’t know what to do!” The tears came full force then and I threw myself into his arms. He tensed for a second, but then his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. For a while, he just made soothing sounds as I sobbed. Eventually, I got ahold of myself and pulled away, still sniffling. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He frowned, then asked, “Do you know where the father is?”

I hiccupped, thinking of Nikolai. I hadn’t seen him since that night and I didn’t think I ever would again. Even if I could somehow find him, I knew it was a lost cause. He didn’t want anything more to do with me now that he’d had his fun; he made that perfectly clear So I shook my head and told Shawn, “No. He’s…he’s not in the picture. He doesn’t want to know anyway.” I couldn’t say that for sure, but I was close enough to positive that it didn’t matter. I sat on the floor again, this time Shawn following me. Easing my head onto his shoulder, I muttered, “I don’t know how to do this. Where am I even going to find money for an abortion?”

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d messed up. Shawn’s family was just as fundamental as mine was and he wouldn’t approve of that choice any more than my own father or brother would.

Risking a glance at him, I saw a frown on his face, his brow furrowed, but he didn’t look angry. Upset, maybe, or thoughtful even, but not angry. That was a good sign.

“Is that really what you want?” he asked me seriously. “An abortion?”

I bit my lip. I didn’t think the answer was yes, but I’d already thought of the other options and they weren’t very good. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted tearfully. “But I just can’t be a single mother, Shawn. I can’t. With school and how my family is…I’d lose everything!”

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn’t understand. That he’d condemn me for even thinking of something like that and tell my father, leaving me destitute. But when he spoke, he said something amazing—and sort of strange.

“I’ll marry you.”

I blinked, thinking I’d misheard him. “What?”

“I’ll marry you and we’ll take care of the baby together,” he repeated, thinking it through and starting to nod. “We’ll get married quickly, so no one thinks anything about it. Your dad will be cool with it, since he already knows me—hell, I’m practically family already. By the time the baby’s born, no one will even think twice about it. They’ll just be so proud of you for being a mother.”

Proud of me. I frowned, the words sinking into me. That didn’t really sound like a great idea, though I couldn’t entirely say why. On the one hand, it fixed all of my problems, erasing my emotional and moral dilemmas without hurting anyone. And I’d known Shawn for all my life; of course I could trust him, right?

But… “I… are you sure?” I managed to get out, not sure what else to say.

He offered me a wistful smile and ran the back of his hand across my face in a surprisingly tender caress. “I’m positive. I want things to be okay for you.”

He seemed so earnest—this was Shawn; he was earnest—but somehow, I couldn’t shake the sense that this was all wrong. But what other options did I have? Finally, I said, “I…I need to think about it. This is all too much and…I just need some time. Is that okay?”

I saw a flicker of what might have been annoyance, but it disappeared so quickly that maybe it was just my imagination. A second later he smiled gently at me and nodded his head. “Take your time. I’ll be here when you decide. Do you want me to stay?”

I shook my head. “No, I need time to think things over. You should head home and get some rest. You’re always taking care of me.”

He shrugged it off like it was nothing, then winked at me. “It’s what I’m good at.”

I smiled at him, then watched him go, wondering if I could really do this.

Chapter 8

Nikolai

The red truck was helpful only because I had connections to the Department of Motor Vehicles. They were very helpful, as well as discreet as far as looking up certain vehicle information for me whenever I needed it. The red truck itself didn’t help a lot. Sure, we were in the city, but there were still plenty of people who liked to have trucks of varying sizes and colors. So, it narrowed it down, but not enough. The fact that it was dented in the hood, however, was helpful. The woman had mentioned that Logan had been complaining about it being new, too, and he couldn’t believe he’d already dented it. Which meant the truck was a recent purchase, but that the accident was recent, too. Which meant he could have called in a claim and possibly exchanged insurance with someone. Since I had his name already, it went a long way towards filtering out all the useless information, but I needed more to go on and was hoping the car might be helpful, since the only working address I had for him thus far was some farm out of the city.

Clearly, he wasn’t staying there.

“Do you have any address listed for the truck?” I asked Cory, my contact at the DMV. He was looking up the truck along with the information connected to Logan’s name.

“Uh, yeah, hang on. Let me bring it up.” He paused a second and all I could hear was the sound of clicking. “Ah, here it is.”

Eagerness bubbled up within me. This could be it, but I tried not to get my hopes up, lest I become disappointed. “Is it here in the city?”

“Yeah. Some art district downtown. I don’t know the area myself, but it’s near the art school, the one off Main? Anyway, do you want the address?”

“Yes. Go ahead and list it off for me. Is there a number attached to it?”

There was a pause and some more typing. A second later, “Yeah. Looks like he’s got a bunch of them, do you want them all or just the most recent?”

“All.”

By the time I hung up with Cory, I had a half a dozen phone numbers and just one address written down on a scrap of paper. I began trying the numbers as I got into my car. I needed to check out the address in the hopes of finding him. If he was staying at a hotel, there was a good chance he wouldn’t go home, if he had one here in the city, but if this address belonged to him, maybe I could find a clue in his home. I’d break in, take a look around, check to make sure he wasn’t there, then see if he left anything that might tell me where he was going. People did stupid things when they were on the run, like leave receipts and ticket stubs and check receipts behind, indicating where they were going, what they were doing, and when they were leaving or coming back.

I had the distinct feeling Logan would be no different.

The first number was a bust, disconnected or something, so I tried the next as I started the car and plugged the address into my GPS. I knew where the art school was, but didn’t know the area well enough to be sure where this address was located. It was some apartment building, I knew that much, but I didn’t think I’d ever been there before.

I tried the second number and got an angry woman who only spoke Spanish—until I told her I was the police, then she informed me in perfect English that she didn’t know any Logan and her son’s name was Jordan. I decided she wasn’t covering for Logan, since she sounded like an older woman and was a mother. My target’s mother was dead, that much I was sure of.

The next number went to a voicemail that belonged to some sort of pop up business that sold strange potato sculptures. I made it through all of the phone numbers and only the last one told me he’d just gotten the number, indicating it might have been Logan, but I doubted it. He seemed calm, collected, and honestly thought I was just some friend searching numbers in his contacts list.

Whatever number he’d given the DMV; it definitely wasn’t his most recent.

I gave up on the numbers and followed the GPS downtown to the art district. I drove through a rundown area that was made semi-beautiful by spray painted murals, strange little New Age shops, and cafés that all served foreign coffees and strange Danishes that could have just as easily come out of a plastic wrapper as from their ovens. This was the land of hippies and activists and starving artists—which was why the apartment I finally arrived at was a wreck. It was just barely above falling apart, the outside half painted with a color that might have supposed to have been white, but was closer to puke green and humidity gray. It wasn’t a good color.

Heading up the steps, which were covered in marker, chalk, and paint, drawings of anything and everything covering the concrete, I worried briefly that I might have trouble getting in. Most apartment complexes had security gates or at least a card reader to make sure only residents could get in.

My worries were unfounded, however, as apparently, this apartment complex was cheap enough that the door was simply open, allowing anyone who chose to enter at will.

Nice place, I thought as I headed inside.

There was someone in the lobby sitting at a desk, but they were reading a paper—or sleeping—and didn’t even notice as I casually headed to the stairs that would lead me to the fourth floor of the building.

The place was as grimy and uninviting on the inside as it was on the outside. The walls were painted white, but had smudges and fingerprints and even a hole through part of it. It looked like no one had been through to clean in a very long time, and the lights flickered. It certainly looked like the kind of place where a low-life like Logan might live. As I reached the fourth floor, I started searching for the number I was looking for. As I did so, I noticed a young woman and a man of similar age came out of one of the doors. Instantly, I recognized the woman.

Madeline.

What was she doing here?

The coincidence seemed tremendous that she would be here of all places. A quick desire ran through me, not just for her body, but an urge to have her see me, recognize me. I wanted her to know I was there, fate having brought us together once again. But she wasn’t alone, and things had been left…badly before. It was a bad idea, and more to the point, I wasn’t the type interested in any sort of long-term relationship, which seemed exactly the thing this young girl did want.

Keeping out of sight, I waited at the opposite end of the hall for the pair to exit the apartment before I began to search for mine. I watched as they disappeared, ignoring the surge to go to her and take her with me, then I began to check the numbers. With each step I took, I got closer to her apartment. Then, finally, I was standing right in front of it—which just happened to be the number listed for the address of Logan King.

“Something isn’t right. This must be an old address,” I said to no one at all.

But I was wondering if I was right. Was this yet another dead end?

I thought it must be, but my gut was telling me otherwise. Searching for answers, I raced downstairs to check the line of mailboxes that I’d passed in the lobby of the place. When I reached them, I searched the numbers and names until I found what I was looking for. Madeline.

But more specifically, Madeline King.

That was when I remembered he had a sister, though I’d never found a good recent picture of her. I hadn’t wanted to involve an innocent in this, so I’d never pursued whether or not she could be involved in all of this, or know where he was. But I should have. I thought of her long blonde hair, like warm honey or wheat. Her bright blue eyes, her freckles. Features that transferred over perfectly to the pictures I had of Logan.

“Dangit!”

How had I made this complicated?

Chapter 9

Madeline

Today was a workshop day, thankfully. I only had my workshop classes once a week for three hours, and I was allowed to use the art studio freely between the hours of seven and nine in the morning, and six and twelve at night. Otherwise classes occupied the rooms.

Workshop was one of my favorite classes, because it was basically a free for all. Our professor would occasionally walk around and spout existential theories on why art was important or how the colors determined the light of the world, but for the most part this was just about creating viable pieces for our portfolios. And, of course, our gallery piece. There was going to be one at the end of the semester for all graduating seniors. It would be our exhibit, and for some of us—most of us—it would likely be our only exhibit.

The thought made me nauseous—or maybe that was the baby? I wasn’t sure anymore if it was the stress from school, the pressure to complete a masterpiece worth displaying in a gallery, or the strange situation with Shawn. Had he really proposed to me? Of course, he had, and it had been an earnest, completely noble plan to save me from embarrassment and exile.

He was so selfless, but…did I really want to spend my life with him?

Not that I had a lot of options. I hadn’t dated more than a few people in my life and we had only gotten to the kissing stage, nothing beyond. Until Nikolai. He was so different from everything I had ever known, and I thought for sure that was what had swept me away. It was the sense of danger and intrigue he carried with him. It was that sexy Russian accent, just smooth enough to slip beneath his perfect English and make his whole self darker, deeper, and more desirous. It was even that medal he had suspended around his neck, an almost gaudy gold thing that should have made him look cheesy, but only spoke of heritage and belief.

I cursed myself for still thinking of him. For focusing on him. He wasn’t coming back. If he wouldn’t come back just to…to, well, idiot me, then why would he come back once he knew a baby was involved? Simple: he wouldn’t. Few men would, but certainly not a dark, sleek stranger like him. He was the type of man who owned expensive cars and rented expensive apartments, daring to live carelessly, even dangerously, because there was nothing anywhere that tied him down.

The complete opposite of some farm girl and her baby.

No, Nikolai wasn’t an option—which was why the painting that kept appearing before me was so inappropriate. It was an urban scene, dark and foreboding. The background was a mixture of streaked rain, midnight skies, and alleys a charcoal gray color that might be full of shadows and nasty things. The roads were cobblestone and shining wet. There was a moon, but it was almost completely covered by the dark clouds that dumped rain on the entire thing. But the part that was so wrong, so inappropriate, was the man standing amidst it all. He had broad shoulders and dark, thick hair that was slicked by the rain, but he was unconcerned as he stared into the alley, ready to face the darkness. His eyes shone in the darkness and there was a tiny golden metal, the only real color besides blue in the entire image.

It had come to me unbidden. I needed to do something, something spectacular for the showcase at the end of the semester, and I kept drawing a blank. Then two months ago I’d had that wonderful night and the heartbreaking morning that followed it with Nikolai. Suddenly, something formed in my mind. I didn’t even really know what it was until I started on him, making his form out slowly in little more than a shadow. Slowly, features came in, his tone paler than it should be, his eyes too bright for the dark scene, but he was there.

Nikolai. Just as gorgeous and alluring as I remembered him.

Now, I wished that I’d picked something else. Anything else, but I’d had such a block and Nikolai had opened that up. Now it was much too late to hope to do anything else before the semester was over. I’d just have to live with this and when anyone asked, if they asked, I’d say it was just someone I made up, someone who might look like they belonged to the darkness.

“Good, Madeline, good. It’s really coming along,” my professor told me in that feathery voice that suggested she was probably taking some sort of mind-altering drug. She floated on past me to the next kid, making some minor suggestions here and there.

I sighed. She was right. It was really coming along. It was probably the best thing I’d ever done, in fact, and that was more depressing than I cared to focus on. Putting up my brushes early, I threw my canvas in the back to dry—and to protect from vandals who had occasionally wrecked other students’ work—and told my professor I had to leave early. I wasn’t feeling well. She encouraged me to feel better and to come in to use the free time to finish my piece if I needed it. I thanked her with a tight-lipped smile, then headed out.

I needed to see Shawn. I was going to have to say yes.

***

I was walking towards my apartment, holding the phone out in front of me. A text was typed up and ready to be sent, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. What would this change? Not just for me and my potential life, but between myself and Shawn?

My answer is yes. You’re a good man and any woman would be lucky to have you.

It was the truth, mostly. He was a really decent, noble man. The fact that he was willing to volunteer spending the rest of his days raising someone else’s child spoke to that fact all on its own, not even mentioning all of the time he spent with me when I was sick or when I was bored or just whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on. Shawn was my best friend. Wasn’t that what all women should dream of, to marry their best friend?

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to send the message. I knew I would have to eventually, but for now, it could wait. For a little bit longer still, I could just be Madeline King.

I saved the message as a draft, then dragged out my keys to open the door, but as I rounded the corner, I froze.

Him. Nikolai. He was here, standing outside the door of my apartment, looking every bit like he didn’t belong and yet like he could belong anywhere.

What is he doing here? Does he know about the baby?

Hope surged forth only to be quashed a second later. No, of course not. He couldn’t possibly know about the baby. I hadn’t told anyone yet besides Shawn and I wasn’t far enough along for me to be showing. I still had my slim physique, though I could feel my breasts beginning to ache, as though they were swelling with the milk I would need.

He couldn’t know, but then why was he here?

I sucked in a quick breath, then let it out, trying to stay calm. Forcing myself to keep walking to the door, I refused to make eye contact with him, unlocking the door casually. “What are you doing here?” I asked, opening the door.

Without any prompting from me, he strode inside first, looking around my dingy little apartment. Instantly, I felt embarrassed. I remembered still what his luxurious apartment had looked like and he must be utterly disgusted by the way I lived. At the very least, it was neat and picked up, so he wouldn’t think I was just a total slob.

“When was the last time you saw your brother, Madeline?” he asked, completely ignoring my question.

I blinked at him. My brother? “What?”

He rounded on me and I was startled by the intensity of his eyes. Quickly I looked away before I got caught in their spell. “Your brother. Logan. When was the last time you saw him?”

How does he know Logan? Oh goodness, did I sleep with one of my brother’s friends? I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t come up with any other reason for why Nikolai would know Logan. “Um, a while. He’s out of state right now.”

Nikolai frowned at me, his thick brows pulling together, creating a crease between them that was troubling and still sexy at the same time. I tried not to think about the strange craving I had for him, just as strong as the first time we’d ever met.

“Out of state,” Nikolai repeated flatly. “He hasn’t been here?”

I shook my head. “No, I mean, not for a while anyway. He had to leave town for a job or something.” I shrugged my shoulders. My brother was a carpenter, sort of. Mostly, he was a jack of all trades. He’d do a little bit of anything for some extra cash, which meant he was never really good at any one thing. But, he could half-rear just about anything. I guessed that was something.

“A job.”

“Why do you keep repeating everything I say? What are you doing here?”

Finally, Nikolai seemed to focus. He was troubled still, serious in a way he most definitely wasn’t the first night we met, but he seemed to have decided something for himself as he locked gazes with me. “Your brother isn’t out of state doing a job,” he told me, his voice low and deep and laced with that accent I loved so much. “He’s running.”

My mouth dropped open a little. “Running? From what?”

“From who. And the who is important only because it is a very powerful man who will do very bad things to anyone who crosses him.”

I almost felt like laughing. A powerful man? What, like a mob boss or something? Was this man some sort of gangster, Capone style? That was ridiculous! My brother was kind of a screw up sometimes, but he was family and I knew he had a good heart. He would never get involved with some sort of dangerous mobster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My brother is a carpenter—”

“A carpenter who was hired by this powerful man to do a job. He failed in that job and then he stole a lot of money. This man wants his money back.”

At this, I did laugh. It was a short bark that wasn’t wholly sincere, but it was all just too much. It sounded like a bad plot to some B-grade heist movie! My brother wasn’t capable of pulling anything like that off. But then I saw that Nikolai’s expression hadn’t changed. He looked just as serious—no, grave—as he had a moment ago.

He was being serious.

A shiver ran through me, all of the laughter instantly sucked out of me. I felt cold and worried and suddenly I knew Logan was in a lot of trouble. Bad trouble.

But I wasn’t ready to accept it. Not from this man who had used me and left me and then haunted my dreams and desires. No, not from him. My brother was fine. This was all some huge misunderstanding. “Get out.”

Nikolai’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“I said, get out. Now. Leave. Go. I don’t want to see you!” My voice was rising and I could tell I was almost hysterical. Maybe it was the hormones or maybe it was a part of me that believed what Nikolai was telling me. Either way, it was making it harder to breathe. He needed to go. “Leave me and my family alone. Don’t you ever come back here!”

Chapter 10

Nikolai

Being yelled at by a woman who was the sister of the man I was hired to kill should not have made me hard. But it did. Her face was flushed with anger, her freckles little pinpricks of burning heat. Her eyes were so bright they almost glowed blue in the dim lighting of the nasty little apartment she called home. Her long hair fell across her shoulders and tickled at her breasts in soft waves that called to me, begged for me to grab them and jerk them back to expose the long column of her smooth neck.

I thought I was getting better with this strange, lingering desire for Madeline, but I was beginning to think I was wrong. My cock ached in my pants, shuddering at being so close to her, with the need to be inside of her.

And she wasn’t helping matters at all. She was yelling at me, telling me she never wanted to see me anymore, but her breasts were trying to escape the simple button-down shirt she wore, and her legs were long beneath the shorts she was wearing. Even her delicate hands, pointing at the door to emphasize her words, were sending my mind spiraling towards dirty, dirty things. I imagined the way those tiny fingers would look wrapped around my shaft. I imagined the way they might grip my hips, my shoulders, my back as she writhed in ecstasy beneath me.

I wanted her. More than I should have, but I couldn’t help it.

Dragging her into this mess with her brother was a bad idea, but he was being reckless. He was reckless the moment he took a job offer from Mickey, but that would have smoothed over easily enough if he’d simply done what he’d been hired to do. Mickey was a shrewd man, but he paid you what you were worth. Do a good job, and he’d make it worth your while. All Logan had to do was not screw Mickey.

Which was the one thing he did do. And now Madeline was caught in the middle of this. If I could find her, someone else could. Someone who maybe didn’t appreciate that, though related, she didn’t have anything to do with her brother’s stupidity. And what if Mickey decided she was a liability?

He wouldn’t go after her…unless her dumb brother decided to show up and ask for help. And I had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t be completely forthcoming with her about the details.

The urge to protect her was almost as strong as the urge to strip her and plunge inside of her. An urge I didn’t seem able to resist. Ignoring her request, I closed the space between us and grabbed her, pulling her flush against my body. Her breath caught and her eyes went wide, but I didn’t give her any time to think. I kissed her hard, like I’d wanted to since that night. Like I’d wished I’d done every night since then.

She resisted at first, her small hands balling into fists and trying to pound my chest, but she couldn’t make me budge. Her punches were like love taps, and I wouldn’t let her go for anything. Nothing in the world.

I slid my tongue against her lips and I felt her shake, trembling not with anger, but desire to match my own. She was beginning to give in, her fists unclenching and her arms rising until her hands could slip around my neck and pull me closer. When my tongue passed over her full lips again, her mouth opened, and when I slipped my tongue inside to taste her, she moaned into me.

My hands slid down from her upper arms to wrap around her little waist. I wished she were still wearing that little summer dress so I could yank it up, pull it high enough to expose those luscious thighs and maybe just rip off her panties then and there in the middle of the living room, take her on the floor.

Instead, my hands slid lower until they hit the waistband of her short little denim cut-offs. Still kissing her passionately, holding her against me, I let my hands dip between the denim and her body so I could feel her firm, full rear in my hands. When I had one cheek in each hand, I ground her against me so she could feel my hard length against her thighs.

I wanted her to know how much I wanted her.

When she broke the kiss and gasped, I knew I had her. I kissed a trail of fire down her neck until I hit the collar of her t-shirt. Growling in frustration, I pushed her away from me—I was pleased when she made a sound of protest—just far enough so I could jerk that t-shirt up over her head. I tossed it to the side, pleased to find she was wearing a black lacy bra too small for her full breasts. They were practically half out of the cups, her cleavage spilling noticeably as her breathing caused her chest to heave.

I went to her shorts next, undoing the button and the zipper. Her hands went to my shirt at the same time, undoing the buttons quickly and then tracing over the expanse of my chest. I groaned at the contact, my body aching for more.

When her shorts were off, I yanked my shirt the rest of the way off and undid my belt. She watched me hungrily as I undid my slacks and pulled them off, revealing my large, aching erection.

I needed her. Now.

I pulled her to me and thrust my hand into her panties, searching out her wet folds and sliding a finger into her hot core. She cried out and I was surprised to find she was still just as tight as that first time. A thrill ran through me. She’s only been with me. I began to pump into her opening over and over again, her body arching and her hands gripping at me desperately. I added another finger, beginning to stretch her so she could more easily accommodate my girth.

When I added a third finger, she begged me, “Please.”

Losing myself, I laid her down on the floor, dragged down her panties, and aligned myself with her wet pussy. She was already panting, flushed and whimpering, needing me.

I let myself have a moment where I slid myself along her opening, collecting the moisture there, then I put my head against her entrance. Meeting her eyes and holding them, I gently slid inside her, slowly, inch by inch.

She winced, but urged me forward still. I knew to be gentler with her this time, though there had been no complaints with my aggression last time.

When I was finally fully sheathed inside her, we truly began. My rhythm started out slow, my pumps deep and hard, but the slow pull as I took almost my entire length out of her was sweet agony for the both of us.

That didn’t last long. I needed to pound into her, hard and fast, and I wasn’t one to enjoy waiting. Pinning her hands above her head, I thrust into her as deeply as I could, my speed building. I watched as her breasts, still encased in that tiny bra, bounced and collided with each other, as erotic as anything else I was doing.

Madeline moaned and arched her back and begged me, whispering again and again, “Please, oh goodness, please, Nikolai!”

Hearing my name fall from her full, bruised lips was enough. I lost myself in her, jerking and thrusting erratically as I spilled myself inside of her. I collapsed there on the floor next to her, pulling her tightly into my arms where I could keep ahold of her a little longer before I had to really think about what I’d just done and what it really meant.

Chapter 11

Madeline

I awoke to a beeping sound, tangled up in someone else’s limbs. A very sexy someone’s limbs. It took me a moment, but when I blinked and cleared the haze of sleep from my gaze, I saw it was definitely Nikolai holding me to him. He looked to be asleep, just as I’d been, and for a moment, I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened.

He showed up at my door. He accused my brother of stealing. I told him to get out and never come back. He messed me senseless.

I shuddered at the memory and found myself beginning to ache and throb where he’d so thoroughly pleasured my body.

The beeping sound came again and I cursed quietly when I realized what it was. My phone. My phone was in my bag now, which was dumped on the floor not far from where we were lying. Carefully, I extracted myself from Nikolai’s warm, muscled arms. I crawled naked—my bra had come off later, after the sex and before the sleep—across the floor to my bag and dug around for my phone. When I found it, I saw I had a text.

From Shawn.

I winced when I realized I was supposed to have given Shawn an answer—and that I had been planning on a “yes” answer before Nikolai showed up at my door. I typed out a quick message, letting him know I was home safe and mentioning only that I’d fallen asleep, not that I’d fallen asleep with another man, the father of my baby.

That was too much for Shawn and way too much for a text message. I needed to think about this before jumping to conclusions. Just as I’d hit send, I heard his gravelly, sleepy voice.

“Who was that?”

I swiveled around, still on my knees and still naked, holding the phone. My eyes were wide and I was sure that I looked guilty as sin—which, I supposed I was now. Biting my lip briefly, I let it go and answered, “No one. Just a friend.”

A friend I’d been thinking about marrying, I thought, but didn’t add out loud.

I hoped my lie was quick and convincing, but when Nikolai stood, he walked over to me, holding his hand out for the phone. I shook my head. I was not giving him my phone.

But then, before I could even think to react, he snatched it from my grasp and looked through it. I saw his face harden and his eyes flashed. He was pissed, I could tell.

“Who the heck is Shawn?”

I folded my arms across my chest, causing my breasts to push together and spill over the tops of my arms. “I told you. A friend.”

“A friend?” he repeated, unconvinced. “Then should I tell him what we’ve been doing, Madeline?” he threatened, eyes glittering with danger and making my heart beat more from lust than fear like it should. “Should I tell him how I’ve plunged my hard cock into your waiting, wet, hot pussy until you screamed and begged me for more? Should I do that in a text message or a phone call, do you think?”

I shivered. His threats made me angry, but his words, his description of what we’d just done made my body ache with a dark lust that I was so unfamiliar with.

Oh, how I still wanted him.

But right then, my anger was stronger than my lust so I spat at him the first thing that came to my mind, “He’s my fiancé!”

Which was probably not the right answer. If I thought he was angry before, he was livid now. He came on me in a moment, pinning me to the floor, our bodies pressed together, skin to skin. His hands held my arms up by the wrists, keeping them pinned tightly to the hard floor. As though on autopilot, my legs fell open to let him settle between them. I could feel his member along my thigh and when it started to grow, it took all I had not to moan and beg him, as he’d said.

“Fiancé?” he repeated, his voice low and deep and thick with his accent. “What sort of woman sleeps with another man when she’s engaged?”

I didn’t have an answer and I didn’t have the chance to answer anyway. He pressed his mouth hard against mine. I worked hard to keep my mouth closed, even when I felt his tongue against my lips. I wouldn’t let him in, not this time.

When he pulled away, he was taunting and teasing as he said, “He must not be much of a man if he can’t satisfy his woman the way I can.” And when I felt one hand release my wrist to slip between my thighs, I didn’t protest. Just like I didn’t stop him from kissing me again and I didn’t keep my lips sealed together. When his tongue touched them again, they parted immediately and I tasted him and tongued him as eagerly as he did me.

His hand brought me to climax and as I was coming, he shoved himself inside of me, giving me the greatest pleasure I’d had yet. He claimed me as his yet again and I didn’t put up the fight that I should have. When he finished inside of me, I couldn’t bring myself to be upset about it. All I wanted was to once again sleep in his arms.

Chapter 12

Nikolai

I dressed while Madeline still slept. She was exhausted, as she should be. I’d put her body through quite a workout, for which I was rather pleased with myself. But it wasn’t enough to completely erase the other emotions I was feeling.

I was angry with her. More than that, I was hurt. How could she be engaged to another man? Didn’t she know she belonged to me, body and soul? There was no one else for her – I was certain of that much, at least.

Maybe I wasn’t the sort of man who could have a wife, children, a family, but that didn’t mean I didn’t understand what it meant to have something. And I did. I knew what was mine, and Madeline was. There was no question of that. And I would claim her as many times as it took until she understood that in the very core of her being.

I left the apartment quietly. I locked it, having found a spare key, to make sure no one would bother her as she slept, naked on the bare floor of her apartment. I’d brought a blanket from her bedroom, or what passed for it, and slid it over her to keep her at least partially warm until she awoke.

Now, I was heading down the stairs to my car. It didn’t matter that I’d laid claim to Madeline King or that she was the little sister of Logan King. I had been hired to do a job and I would do that job regardless of the consequences. That was because I was good at my job, yes, but it was also because I knew Mickey. If I refused to do the job, he’d hire someone else to do it. Someone who wouldn’t care about dragging Logan’s little sister into the mix.

When I got into the car, my phone went off. It was a friend of mine, Peter, who worked at a bar downtown. Technically, it was his bar, but it was only through the good graces of Mickey that he did so well. It meant he was my friend and went out of his way to do Mickey favors.

“Nikolai, I heard you’ve got a new job.”

“I do,” I answered calmly. Peter was good; he wouldn’t let anything slip over the phone. Just in case.

“Well, your coworker is here getting tossed, I think. You should come and get him before he does anything stupid.”

The message was clear: Logan had been spotted. He was at Peter’s nightclub and he was being handed to me on a silver platter. I didn’t hesitate, just peeled out of the parking lot, doing my best to leave all thoughts of Madeline far behind me.

I had work to do.

Chapter 13

Madeline

The floor was cold beneath me and hard, though a blanket draped across my naked body helped seal in at least a little bit of heat. My body felt achy from lying there for as long as I had, though there were other contributing factors, too. As soon as I moved my legs and felt the soreness aching between them, I flushed as I recalled the things I had just done.

Nikolai.

He’d been furious. And I’d been furious. And then we’d made love—I wasn’t sure he would call it that; he’d probably say “frigging” but it was making love for me—twice right there on the floor, as though it was the only way to deal with the feelings raging between us.

I probably should have felt guilty. This man was accusing my brother of all kinds of things and my reaction was to sleep with him? Not just a lost in the moment kiss or a momentary lapse of judgment either. I’d let him get my clothes off in a hurry, desperate for there to be only nakedness between us, and even after he did passionate, naughty things to my body, I hadn’t come to my senses.

I’d craved it when he took me the second time, too.

This was not what I’d been raised to think and feel and act about sex. I was supposed to be married and then I was supposed to be careful, demure. It was okay to want sex, but only in the sweet way. In the “innocent” way, as much as possible, anyway. I wasn’t supposed to want things like sex on the floor or sex in the shower, and definitely not sex with men I barely knew.

Just one man, a voice in my head reminded me, and I acknowledged that it was true. I only wanted one man. Nikolai.

Thinking of him made me stand—gingerly and stiffly, stretching out my aching body slowly to try to work out some of the kinks—and look around for him. My apartment wasn’t that big, so there weren’t a lot of places for him to be.

Clutching the blanket, which I recognized as pulled from my bed, I looked around for him, but I knew before I’d checked in the bathroom and behind the curtain of my bedroom that he was already gone.

Niggling despair worked its way through my chest. Of course he wasn’t there. I should have known better that whatever passionate, crazy sex we had together, it was simply a carnal urge on his part.

But he came back.

I frowned. Was coming back a sign that he maybe wanted more than just the physical stuff? I wasn’t sure. He’d been talking about my brother and it made me worry that him showing up had more to do with Logan than anything else. But then, he had been really angry about Shawn.

I winced as soon as I thought of my best friend. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to speak to him ever again. After all, now I knew I would have to turn him down. I couldn’t marry Shawn while I let Nikolai’s body consume mine and devour me whole.

That wasn’t fair to anyone.

Just then my phone started buzzing an electronic version of “Lean On Me”—Shawn’s ringtone. I started to panic a little bit, debating whether or not to answer at all. I wasn’t sure I was ready to have this conversation with Shawn yet. Except I knew if I didn’t talk to him now, he’d get worried. And then he’d rush over here. And then he’d know, because after the passion that had swallowed me with Nikolai, I knew it had to be written across my face in plain block lettering, screaming of the dirty things I’d done.

Things I couldn’t bring myself to regret.

With a steadying breath, I picked up my phone and accepted that I was just going to have to talk to Shawn and tell him the truth. Well, part of the truth anyway. I wouldn’t be able to marry him and I’d have to admit that to him, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to tell him about Nikolai. What would he think of me to know that I’d let the man back into my bed? Well, onto my floor anyway.

“Hello?”

“Madeline! Jeez, I’ve been worried sick! You never called me back or texted or anything.”

I could hear the undertones of worry and panic and almost rolled my eyes at him. Shawn had always been sweet to me, but he was also very overprotective and tended to worry too much. I often wished he’d give me a little breathing room; after all, I was an adult and could take care of myself, even if some of my choices lately hadn’t been the wisest.

“Sorry. I…I’ve been sleeping most of the day,” I answered mostly honestly.

There was a pause. “Because of the baby?”

I blinked. For one crazy moment, I’d forgotten all about being pregnant. Nikolai had swamped my field of vision until he was the only thing in it. As a result, I hadn’t even thought to tell him—not that I thought he would really want to know—I was carrying his unborn child.

Would he want to know?

“Uh, no, not exactly,” I hedged. I felt my blood pounding through my head, rushing until my ears were nothing but drums of pressure. Lying wasn’t going to be a good idea, I could just tell. I let out a sigh. “Listen, about your offer—”

“Don’t tell me over the phone,” he hurriedly interrupted me. “I want to hear your answer in person. This is just too important not to, right?”

His eagerness made me wince, but I agreed that he deserved to hear it from me face to face. It was cowardly to tell him over the phone, wasn’t it? So I sighed and nodded, though, of course, he couldn’t see that part. “Yeah, I mean, you’re right. When did you want to meet?”

“I’ll come over right now. We can talk then. I’ll bring takeout.”

I felt a moment of panic. Now? I looked down at myself clutching the blanket, still sticky from dried sweat and, well, and other things that didn’t belong to me at all. I was sure I looked like a mess, and the apartment felt like it looked like it was a mess, even though really, I didn’t have enough stuff here with me to make it truly unkempt. Still, I knew if he walked through the door right this moment, he would see that I’d just had wild, passionate sex that was most definitely not with him.

I didn’t want to tell Shawn that I wouldn’t accept his proposal like that. It was rude and thoughtless; he deserved better.

“Now?” I repeated into the phone, my heart racing a little. I needed to get cleaned up at the very least. “I mean, the place is sort of a mess and—”

“Don’t worry. It’s me. A little mess has never bothered me before. I’ll pick up something from that sandwich place and we can—”

“Can you pick up Chinese instead?” I blurted. Honestly, part of it was that I really was having a craving, but really the reason that I wanted Chinese instead of sandwiches was simple: the Chinese place was twenty minutes out of the way and would give me enough time to at least shower before he got here.

I told myself it was because it wouldn’t be fair to tell him like that, but I knew it was because I was scared. Would he think less of me? He hadn’t yet, but telling him about Nikolai might be the last straw, and I just wasn’t ready to risk it. At least if I cleaned up, telling him about Nikolai wouldn’t necessarily mean I’d just had sex with him and that was why I hadn’t called him.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get the orange chicken, right?”

He knew me so well and I felt a little sad that I wouldn’t be marrying my best friend after all, but one thought of Nikolai made me realize it was all for the best. I didn’t think of Shawn that way and was pretty sure I never would. “Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Great. Be there soon.”

We hung up and I wasted no time in rushing to the bathroom. At least I was already naked so I wouldn’t have to worry about taking the time to strip. I was under the spray in record time, scrubbing the scent of lovemaking from my skin, while simultaneously remembering how he’d touched me. Fiercely and possessively, like I was his and no one else’s.

The thought made me shiver.

When I got out of the shower smelling fresh and clean, I frowned at the blanket on the floor. Since it was a studio apartment, I didn’t have a washer and dryer. Instead, there were machines in the basement of the apartment complex. I wouldn’t have time to wash it, so I scooped it up and threw it on the bed in a heap. I decided we’d have to stay in the kitchen so he wouldn’t get suspicious. After getting dressed, I jerked the curtains closed to hide my bedroom and darted into the kitchen. I had one of those Swiffer things to help keep the hard floors clean in between moppings and I pulled it out now, quickly going over the entire space as though the evidence of what I’d just done was written across the floor. Maybe it was.

By the time I was putting it back up, there was a knock on the door. Shawn.

Taking a deep breath, I went to the door and opened it. He stood there holding up two bags full of Chinese takeout cartons. His smile was bright, confident even, and it made mine shaky at best.

“Come in,” I told him, standing back so he could do so.

He went directly to the counter to deposit the bags of food. Then he started pulling out containers, talking to me as he did so. “I got orange chicken like you like and some dumplings. There’s chow mein and stir fried rice, but no chicken in that, ’cause I know how you feel about chicken fried rice.”

I let him ramble for a bit until all the food was placed on the counter. He went to the cupboards to grab some plates then started dishing everything out. As I watched him, I realized what an awful person I was. Here was my best friend doing everything he could just to make me happy and make sure I was healthy, and what was I doing? Sleeping around with some guy who probably didn’t care about me in the slightest.

Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I worried on it for a moment as I thought it over. I was going to have to tell him. And not just about the engagement—or lack thereof.

“Shawn,” I began hesitantly, trying to gather my courage before continuing. “Shawn, stop. I…we really need to talk. Now.”

He stopped instantly. He could probably already sense it in my tone, but I tried to remind myself that it was okay. Everything would be okay. He turned to look at me, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned down into a frown. He was a nice guy, one of the good ones I was sure, but…well, he could be a little judgmental about things like this. I reminded myself that he’d stood by me when he learned I was pregnant, even stepping up to the plate, and that this would be no different. We’d still be friends after I told him the truth.

Even so, the words stuck to the roof of my mouth like thick, pasty oatmeal. After several tries, I got it out. “I can’t marry you.” Shawn looked ready to mount an offensive, some sort of argument to convince me otherwise, but I hurried on before he could change his mind. “You’re such a good guy and you deserve so much better. I just can’t do that to you.”

“Madeline, I…” His expression had turned tender, telling me he wasn’t understanding what I was talking about.

I knew I’d have to tell him what happened. Sucking in a harsh breath, I spit it out. “I slept with Nikolai.”

He froze. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore. He stared at me with those huge brown eyes, almost not seeing me at all. Then he blinked and let out a rush of air through his clenched teeth. A moment later, he asked dumbly, “Who?”

“Nikolai,” I told him carefully, knowing how this was going to go over. “The…the baby’s father. I…I don’t know what happened.” Which was not entirely the truth, but sort of. I hadn’t intended for that to happen, though I enjoyed it enough to know that I would let it happen again in a heartbeat. “He was here and I was…It did happen, Shawn. It happened and you deserve better.”

I sat heavily on one of the stools at the counter, feeling miserable. I didn’t want to lose Shawn as a friend and I felt awful after everything that had happened. It was supposed to be us against the world, but I had a feeling that after my admission, that was no longer the case.

Then he surprised me. “Are you telling me no because…well, because you guys are together now?”

I stiffened. Together? Well, we’d slept together a total of four times, but I’d left knowing that he didn’t want anything like that the first time and he’d left the second time before I could even attempt to decipher anything. I hesitated, then decided honesty was all I had to offer as confusing as it might be. “Um, no. I mean, not really, he just…” Just what? Stormed in, tore off my clothes and devoured my body until I felt like I was crumbling in ecstasy beneath him? No, I definitely couldn’t say that, so I tried again. “He’s gone and I don’t even have a number. I…he probably won’t be back.”

Of course I’d thought I wouldn’t see him again after the first time, too, so some part of me hoped I would be wrong again.

Shawn processed this information, then seemed to make a decision. Leveling his gaze on me, he said, “Then I don’t care.”

My eyes widened at his words. What?

“I don’t care, because you’re all I’ve ever wanted, Madeline. So, if you’re not already with this guy, I want a chance.” His eyes smoldered with passion and ferocity as he said this, intensity I was definitely not used to from him.

“You…?” But I didn’t even know what to say.

He took a deep breath, looked me in the eye, and said, “I’m in love with you, Madeline. I have been forever. I don’t care about anything else but that.” He took my hands in his, holding them tightly, as though he could make me feel his love through that simple touch. Unfortunately, I felt nothing. Just the warm pressure of his hands, which was barely anything at all. It was nothing like how I felt when Nikolai was just in the same room as me.

Gently, I pulled my hands back. I shook my head. “I…I had no idea, but, Shawn…this isn’t right. You should be with someone who feels that way about you, too, and, well, we’ve just been friends for so long and—”

He took my hands again, sparking a quick annoyance in me that died nearly as fast. “Yeah, but that’s because you’ve only looked at me like a friend. Now you know how I feel and you can think about me in other ways, too. Especially now that you’ve—” He broke off abruptly, his cheeks going red. I thought it was in embarrassment, but then I saw a flash of anger.

I bit my lip, then said, “I just don’t know, Shawn.”

He shook his head. “I do. This Nikolai guy isn’t going to stick around and you need a husband. That’ll be me and the rest will come with time. It’ll be okay, Madeline.”

I wasn’t convinced, but didn’t argue further. I didn’t know how to make him understand what I could feel in my heart: I was never going to love him like that.

Chapter 14

Nikolai

Hours Earlier

I arrived at the club before it closed. There wasn’t a lot of time left, last call was at two, but I still had a half an hour or so. Plenty of time. Sliding out of my car, I headed towards the bar, making sure my gun was tucked beneath my jacket and concealed, but easy to reach. Peter wouldn’t have an issue with me having the gun, but some of the people who worked there and visited often maybe didn’t understand who really ran the bar. They wouldn’t be too happy with having a loaded gun in the place, though I knew without asking that there was a shotgun beneath the counter and a pistol in the drawer where Peter would tend that evening.

As soon as I walked in, I spotted Peter. He was cleaning glasses as several tossed men, looking miserable and happily so, nursed the remnants of whatever they’d been drinking for most of that night.

I locked eyes with him and his expression turned grave. He knew exactly what I did for a living and knew what the consequences of his call to me had been. He’d effectively sentenced a man to death, and that probably wasn’t sitting really well with him just then. Sure, Peter was a tough guy and knew there were certain things that came with the territory of essentially being run by Mickey. Getting rid of rats happened to be one of those things.

Still, he wasn’t the kind of guy who appreciated that sort of vigilante, eye for an eye type of justice. He still had some hope in the judiciary branch of government, though it was waning with each passing month.

After a minute of unspoken communication between the two of us, he jerked his head towards the opposite corner of the bar, then broke eye contact with me. He went back to cleaning glasses, acting as though I was just another customer or maybe no one at all. He was good about being calm like that.

I took his hint and scanned the bar quickly and efficiently as I shoved my hands into my pockets, casually walking farther into the dimly lit room. There were still a few brave souls clinging to each other on the dance floor, trying to hold each other up and swaying gently to the music, which had become quiet and soft, unlike the electronica business that would have been playing earlier. Beyond them were tables that lined the walls. Booths, mostly, with plain black leather seats and dark wood tables that weren’t shiny enough to reflect the strobe lights that bounced around earlier in the evening. Most of them were empty at this point as last call would be coming very soon, but there were one or two still occupied.

Sitting at one of these tables was a young man with light, honey colored blond hair and blue eyes that were watered down, dulled by alcohol and maybe some form of drug. He was relatively somber, though there was a ghost of a smile lingering on his youthful features.

Logan King.

I recognized him instantly and began to make my way carefully across the room towards the table. I didn’t know if he knew there was a price on his head—he’d be the biggest moron on the planet if he thought there wasn’t—so I didn’t want to spook him by being obvious.

As I got closer, I noticed there was another man sitting across from him. Young also, he had dishwater brown hair and a slightly tan skin, though not like he’d seen the sun frequently. Instead, it was more like he was naturally tan and because he hadn’t seen the sun much lately, he was actually kind of dusky and paler than he should be.

A friend? I wondered silently. Or a business associate.

As far as I knew, Logan had pulled his stunt alone, but it wasn’t beyond reason to think he’d had a partner in the crime. In fact, it was more likely than anything else. He didn’t seem handy enough or clever enough to have pulled the heist off on his own. A partner would have given him some help both in dispatching with Mickey’s man and with hauling the money to the van. Still, Mickey hadn’t mentioned a second man. There was a chance he was uninvolved completely, just an unwitting friend sitting across from a dead man.

I frowned. I didn’t like that.

If this guy was merely a friend and not an accomplice, then he was innocent, more or less. Sure, he’d probably done something to earn him some hard licks here and there, but chances were he hadn’t done anything to warrant execution. And I didn’t like executing the undeserving.

Which was why I slid into the booth right behind them and flagged down a waitress, instead of going straight to their table. I wanted to listen a little bit and I wanted more information before making a move.

“Vodka, neat,” I told the waitress who smiled flirtatiously at me before disappearing back to the bar for my drink. My mind flickered back to Madeline, how I’d left her naked and sore on the floor, thoroughly messed. How I’d made her mine, because she was mine.

I shook my head, forcing the memories away. I couldn’t think about her and my job at the same time. That was too dangerous.

Digging into the pocket of my slacks, I found my phone and dragged it out. Mickey wasn’t one to text, but I wasn’t comfortable calling him. If I had to do too much talking, it might tip off Logan and I wouldn’t risk that. The boy had become a thorn in my side and I wasn’t about to lose my first real shot at him just for the sake of the moron sitting across from him.

So I texted the question, careful of my wording. That new employee of yours bring a friend along for the job?

Then I waited, listening casually to the conversation behind me.

“…huge belly!” Judging by the way the sound came to me, that sounded like Logan. Both of them laughed at whatever joke he’d just told about a woman’s chest.

“Man, who knew money would go so far?” commented a second voice, his friend.

“I’m telling you, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, I couldn’t even fit those knockers in my hands!”

I frowned, considering his words and what they might mean. I was inclined to think it was about the stolen money as opposed to anything he’d earned lately. But it didn’t tell me whether or not his friend was in on it, so I continued to listen. Maybe they would let something drop, or tell me where they’d been. Maybe even tell me where the money was.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

I stiffened. That was the friend. Was he talking about the job? Or something else. I waited for them to continue, but then I received a reply text message from Mickey. Yes. I want that roach fired, too.

And that told me everything. Whatever Logan had done, this friend had been privy to it. I didn’t know why Mickey hadn’t told me about it earlier—probably he was either more concerned with the money or with Logan, or he simply hadn’t known who the other kid was at the time—but knew it didn’t matter. My fee would go up, Mickey knew that, and he’d still made the call.

I was here to “fire” them both now.

The waitress came back with my drink and placed it down on a napkin. One that I noticed had scrawling handwriting on it leaving a name—Roxy—and a number. I ignored it and took a sip of my drink. I didn’t want to be inebriated, as I needed to keep my wits about me, but I also needed to blend.

Besides, one glass of vodka wasn’t enough to send me spiraling.

It would be for Madeline, I though idly, remembering how she’d been tipsy by the end of her first drink. How she’d leaned closer to me, flirted. How she’d let my hand snake up beneath her dress to find the edges of her panties.

I did my best to suppress my shiver of desire. It was insane how much I still wanted her. This wasn’t exactly my typical reaction to a woman, though in all fairness, she was hardly a typical woman.

Crumpling up the napkin, I focused on the conversation behind me, waiting. People were starting to thin out. Those who had been lingering on the dance floor dissipated. The band was done, packing up, as a CD player somewhere in the back took over to play a soft melody that was just barely taking up space in the background. At the bar, Peter was already starting to shoo away the drunks and calling cabs for the unfortunate souls who were too far gone to drive.

I took another drink. All I had to do was be patient and then—

“I gotta take a leak, man.”

It was Logan, but I heard him too late. He was already up and moving past my table. He looked back, presumably to yell something to his friend, but froze when he saw me. There was a moment where our eyes met and I was startled by how much he resembled Madeline, how blind I was to have not seen it before.

The moment passed quickly, however, and then his eyes flickered down to my chest. I didn’t know what he was looking at, but in an instant, he was running. He knew who I was. Cursing, I got up from the table and chased after him. But the waitress had come back and I nearly ran into her. She squealed as I grabbed her by the upper arms and tossed her aside into one of the booths. She fell onto the cushions with a “Hey!” as her tray toppled to the floor. I heard glass break, but I was already hot on Logan’s heels and nothing else mattered.

Peter was speaking with a bouncer at the front door, so Logan redirected his escape route so he was heading towards the back, where I knew there were bathrooms and a door leading to the basement. Which wouldn’t have bothered me, except that there was also an emergency exit that would lead to the alleyway outside. I didn’t know if it would sound an alarm or not—they’d used it before as a delivery door since it was so much closer to the basement where they stored the excess—but I knew it wouldn’t be locked regardless.

Cursing, I pushed myself to run faster. And promptly ran into a pair of swaying, giggling girls, clearly trashed. I shoved myself through them; they only laughed. It seemed like everyone was just perfectly set up to be in my way and it was causing the gap between myself and Logan to lengthen quickly.

I was not happy.

He hit the door before I reached him and it popped open. A screeching blared through the building, resonating in my ears. Not pleasant, but I pushed it aside, following him out as I extracted the gun from my waistband. If there was an accomplice, then there was no reason I needed Logan alive, and now that he was no longer in the building, I wouldn’t have to worry about shooting any unsuspecting patrons.

I tore out of the building and rounded the corner, aiming my gun, but I was met with an empty alleyway. Nothing. I cursed again, lowering my gun. Where had he gotten to so fast? There was a back end to the alley, so he could have gone around the backside of the building, but most of the parking was across the street, and I was hoping that was his destination.

Dashing to the front of the alley, I came to a careening halt just in time to avoid getting hit by a large red truck, dented on the side.

Logan.

I raised my gun and shot three times, aiming first for the window and then for the tires, but he swerved and sped and none of my shots hit their mark. I merely put neat little holes in his precious truck, though I noticed the hole in the back window, causing him to duck down and swerve the truck. He rounded the corner and suddenly, I’d lost him again.

“Idiot!” I yelled, spitting on the asphalt.

He’d gotten away and I was no closer to him than I had been at the beginning of the night. A moment later I was struck by my own stupidity: he’d left without his partner. Turning, I bolted to the front door, shoved past the bouncer who was trying to tell me that he wasn’t letting anyone else in, and towards the table where they’d been sitting earlier. It was empty. I cursed again. I’d lost them both.

A second later, I felt a large hand on my shoulder and spun around, gun at the ready. Peter, to his credit, barely flinched when I pointed it right in his face. He nodded once at me. “You’d better go. Between the emergency alarm and the gunshots, the police will be here soon. Easier to explain you away if you were never here, eh, comrade?”

I clenched my jaw in anger, but nodded. He was right. I left empty-handed.

Chapter 15

Madeline

It took everything I had to keep from throwing up. Nausea roiled in my stomach, the Chinese from that morning had seemed like such a great idea, but now it was threatening to come back up and I thought it was a horrible moment of poor judgment for me. Oh, how it seemed like I was having a lot of those lately.

I was sitting in class, trying to focus on the work in front of me. It was the Nikolai painting. As he stared back at me from the canvas, his bright eyes burning through to my very soul, I wondered just how much of that I’d really imagined.

Not enough of it, I thought distinctly, recalling the way his gaze seemed to rip right through me until he was underneath the flesh and muscle, clutching at my heart, wrapping it up like it was mine.

I let out a shaky breath. I needed to stop thinking about him and try thinking about Shawn, but it was no use. My body didn’t respond the way it needed to with Shawn, and though I loved him, I knew in my heart that love was merely the way I loved my brother or my father. He was family, and while that was special, it wasn’t the right kind of special.

I couldn’t marry him.

Sucking air in through my mouth, because smells were making my nausea worse, I tried to come up with some sort of way to let him down. Shawn was adamant about marrying me—about loving me—but I knew I couldn’t let it happen. If he would just start focusing on another woman, I knew he’d find love elsewhere.

Until then, I just had to ward him off.

I put a clear coat of paint over my painting, letting it streak in exaggerated, visible strokes from top to bottom in an effort to make the rain look shiny and noticeable. It was a fine line in art between capturing reality and capturing what something really felt like. I was doing my best, but it wasn’t quite right yet. There was something else missing.

Taking a little gold, I added flecks of it to a medallion around his neck. I wanted it to stand out as it always did for me in real life, but not obnoxiously so. I didn’t want it to be the sole focus, but I wanted it to be there, noticeable. Taking up some white, I added a little shimmer to it along the curved edge, but had to stop there. The smell of the paints was starting to get to me and I’d puke up all that Chinese soon if I didn’t stop.

I covered my mouth as I washed my brushes off. This was getting ridiculous. I sighed, acknowledging that I needed to go to the doctor soon. Although I knew I wouldn’t marry Shawn, I also knew he was right; I didn’t want an abortion. So even if I had to take care of this thing growing within me all on my own, I would do it. I had to keep the little thing, not just because of my upbringing, but because it was half Nikolai, which meant it couldn’t be all bad. I would have to go to the doctor and get checked up, make sure the baby was healthy, get prenatal vitamins for it. The whole nine yards.

I didn’t know how I would pay for it all yet, but I knew there was government assistance for single mothers. I was sure I would qualify for some sort of help. And if not, well, I guessed I would drop out of school. I’d finish out the semester, then go and get a job. Maybe after the baby was born I could see about reenrolling. It wasn’t the best of plans, but it was all I had at the moment.

Eventually, class was let out and I threw the tarp over the painting, protecting it again, though I could almost still feel Nikolai watching me from the canvas, his eyes piercing into my very soul.

***

When I got to my apartment, I had to shake off the feeling that something was different. It was probably just my imagination or maybe it was just some weird tick that came from being pregnant—god knew I’d picked up a few of those—so I ignored whatever intuition was trying to tell me. I went to unlock my door, but started when I found it was open.

It creaked open slowly and I froze, watching and waiting for it to reveal something terrible, something awful. Something that would devour me or destroy me.

But it was only my brother.

“Logan!” I ran inside, dropping my bag by the door, and threw my arms around him. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and I was willing to admit that after Nikolai’s little visit I was more than a little concerned about my brother.

Was he really in trouble?

He hugged me back, but winced and quickly pulled away. I frowned. Glancing down, I finally saw it, the thing that was off and wrong about all of this. And the thing that had made him wince. His arm was haphazardly wrapped with shreds of what looked like one of my nightshirts—I’d give him trouble for that later—and seeping through the baby pink fabric was a deep, brownish red color.

Blood.

“Oh, my goodness!” I slapped my hand over my mouth as I stared at it. “What happened?” I asked, though the words came out muffled. I hadn’t moved my hand away.

He grimaced, but I thought it was less from the pain and more to hide something else. Something in his expression that he was worried I might see. He looked away from me and down at his arm, putting his opposite hand over the bandage. “Do you have something to help with this?”

On some level I acknowledged that he had not answered my question, but I avoided it. But this wasn’t just by brushing it off. Instead, he’d picked up on an equally important thing, one I couldn’t ignore: taking care of him.

“Yes, of course. I’ll grab it!”

I hurried out of the room to the bathroom, stepping around the door. Jerking open the mirror cabinet, I searched through everything I had stuffed in there—stupid, useless tampons—until I came across the hydrogen peroxide, some rubbing alcohol, and actual bandages as opposed to a ruined nightshirt. Then I rushed back out to find Logan sitting on one of the chairs at the counter, leaning heavily across the kitchen surface. He was fiddling with his bandage, unwrapping it a little, I thought.

Coming up beside him, I brushed his hand away and picked up where he left off. We worked in silence for the most part. The bandage was dirty and stained beyond recognition, but that wasn’t my concern. When I got to the actual wound, I found it was a hole, small but clearly enough to do quite a bit of damage. It looked like there was an exit hole, as well, which I thought was probably good, but I wasn’t a doctor.

And that was the point, definitely. “Logan, you need to go to the hospital,” I said as I began to dab first peroxide on it; it bubbled up with tiny white bubbles that looked like puss, though I knew it was air forcing things to the surface in order to clean the wound, then the rubbing alcohol.

“No hospitals,” he said immediately in response, and his answer settled uneasily around me.

Why no hospitals? What really happened? The only reason you didn’t go to a hospital was when you didn’t want to be found. Had there been any truth to Nikolai’s words when he’d shown up here not so long ago, unannounced and worried?

“Seriously, Logan, this isn’t a joke, it’s—”

“No. Hospitals.” His voice was lower than I’d ever heard it, and dangerous. Like he was some feral animal, cornered and hurt and willing to fight its way through me to get to the door. My brother had never sounded like that in his entire life and I wasn’t thrilled to hear him like that now.

Biting my lower lip, I fell silent and continued to clean the wound. Gunshot wound, my mind whispered to me, but I pushed it aside. If it really were from a gunshot, he was in a lot of trouble and there was a chance, a good chance, Nikolai had said something along the lines of the truth that day.

I wasn’t sure what I would do with that.

When I finished wrapping it up, his arm still looking awful, but at least it was better with fresh bandages and I felt more confident that it had been thoroughly cleaned, I returned my attention to my brother. “Why won’t you go to the hospital, Logan?” I asked him, my gaze leveled at him evenly, unwavering. “What happened?”

He turned away, gingerly patting at the bandages with his uninjured arm. He was trying to come up with something to tell me, I knew, because he wouldn’t look me in the eyes. When he’d come up with something plausible—and likely not one hundred percent the truth—he’d turn back to me and explain what he wanted me to know.

But when he looked back to me, I found myself angry with him. I didn’t want to hear his lies. I didn’t want to be misled by my brother, because he’d gotten himself into some kind of trouble and was still trying to lie his way out of it. So much of our childhood had been like that, and while I loved my brother dearly, I wasn’t in the mood to be lied to.

Nikolai’s words flashed through my head and I interrupted Logan before he had the chance to say anything that would be a boldfaced lie. “Is it true?”

Logan blinked at me in surprise. “What?”

“Is it true? Did you really…did you steal money? From some bad guys?” I tried to remember how Nikolai had put it specifically, but it was difficult because all I wanted to remember was our lovemaking, the passion that had erupted between us like fireworks or lava or something equally as devastating.

He failed in that job and then he stole a lot of money. That man wants his money back. The words slipped through me now, dangerous and foreboding, and now, I thought, laced with more truth than they had been before. Oh, what did my brother get himself into?

Logan looked away, staring up at a corner of the ceiling where the walls of my tiny, ridiculous apartment met and I knew he was lying, or about to lie to me. It hurt to know that was what he was going to do, that he’d do it easily, too, but I pushed that hurt aside. I needed to know just how much trouble he was in.

“Logan, don’t lie to me. You’re in trouble, I know that much. Just tell me.”

He seemed to debate it in his head for a while, before finally grimacing. He looked at me, not quite in the eye, but at least he was staring at my face. “Okay, I did steal something, some money, but it’s not what you think.”

I frowned. What I thought? How could he steal? Had he just disregarded everything our father had raised us to believe? For a blazing second, I was furious with him. Then I remembered I had done some things that went directly against everything I’d ever been taught. It calmed me enough to remember that it wasn’t right to judge my big brother for his mistakes, lest I take a hard look at my own and realize the things I’d done wrong.

And I’d done a lot wrong lately.

So, I took a steadying breath and nodded my head once. “Okay. Fine. Let’s start with who did this to you,” I tried, doing my best to stay calm. Nikolai said a dangerous man was after Logan. Had that dangerous man done this to him?

Logan heaved a sigh that sounded a lot like relief. Probably because I wasn’t yelling at him. Yet. “A tall, dark man wearing some kind of medallion. You know, gold and gaudy, but it went with that dark suit he was wearing, so what do I know? He pulled a gun at me right in the open and tried to kill me. Didn’t even care that I was in a bar with people there! I don’t know his name, but—”

“Nikolai,” the name came out in a whisper, and I didn’t think my brother caught it, because he kept talking, though I was having a hard time hearing. My blood was rushing cold behind my ears and I felt a little like passing out. Surely it couldn’t have been Nikolai, right? But then…he’d known about Logan.

“…lucky that no one got hurt. Anyway, you just need to lay low.” He’s focused on me again, staring me straight in the eye. “Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay? It might be dangerous. But I’ll get this cleared up and we’ll be fine. Just keep your head down and pretend like you don’t know anything.”

He let out a whoosh of air, looking a little relieved. He offered me a smile, oblivious to the turmoil racing through me. Awful. I felt awful. He stood then, testing his bandage and arm one last time, then he moved towards the door. “Remember,” he called back at me before he exited the door. “Keep your head down and don’t tell anyone I was here.” Then he was gone and I felt sick to my stomach.

This couldn’t be happening.

Chapter 16

Nikolai

Officially, I was driving to the downtown art district for business alone. I needed to see if Madeline had any idea where her brother might be. She was not only the closest living relative geographically, but as his little sister, there was a good chance she would be more sympathetic to his plight than his father would be.

Unofficially, I needed to see her. My body pulsed and ached from the distance that was between us, a physical distance that was eating me up in ways I’d never had to deal with before. I’d never been so attached to a woman before, which was sort of the point. So maybe my official business was only an excuse.

Besides, I need to make sure Shawn isn’t there.

The thought was a little odd for me. I wasn’t the type to be jealous, necessarily, though I could certainly be possessive. And it was that possessiveness over Madeline that had me grinding my teeth along the way to her apartment at the thought that he might be there with here right now.

Still. She’d pretty willingly let me slide into her and make passionate love—no, wait, not love. I didn’t do love. Rather, she’d let me harass her into oblivion. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would just allow any man between her legs, so I was confident that fiancé or no, this Shawn guy wasn’t what she really wanted.

And if I had to remind her of that little fact, well, that was business, too, wasn’t it?

I arrived at the apartment in a relatively short amount of time. Once again, I thought of how easy it was to get into the building. There was little concern as far as who would be coming and going. This time, it made me frown. Madeline was living here in this little pile of trash of an apartment in an unsavory part of town. Sure, the artsy community gave me a little bit of comfort, as they generally weren’t the types to get involved in the heavy crime that was usually problematic in the lower income neighborhoods, but still. Drugs were likely running rampant in the area—artists were known for that—and god knew what else. At the very least the place could have some means of protecting its inhabitants from the wickedness of the outside world.

Something would have to be done, I decided.

I made my way quickly up the stairs to her floor, rounding the corner towards her door easily. When I got to the apartment, I took a moment to straighten myself out. The night had been a little rough on me, leaving me drawn and ragged I was sure. I didn’t want her to see me like that. Taking a steadying breath, I combed back my hair and projected the calm exterior I was famous for. I didn’t want to freak her out, but I did need to ask her about Logan. Now that he knew I was on his tail, there was a good chance he would seek out refuge somewhere. Somewhere he deemed safe, and given that his father was a good ways away and his mother was dead, I was willing to bet that his safe haven was Madeline. I couldn’t picture her turning him away—unfortunately—which meant he likely knew the exact same thing.

After I’d collected myself, I raised my hand to knock—but still I hesitated. Madeline had been…willing the last time I was here, but that didn’t necessarily mean she’d been happy to see me. And with my abrupt departure, she was unlikely to be in a better mood in regards to me. While I felt confident in my ability to smooth over that little romantic hiccup, I wasn’t so sure about bringing up Logan. He seemed to be a sore subject, though I sensed she must know at least in part that he was a screw up. Likely she was just in denial.

I’d need a plan in regards to my approach on the subject. I shot at your brother last night, intending to kill him, and the only reason I didn’t was because he rounded a corner in his truck before I could get a good shot in. Somehow, that didn’t seem like the wise approach, but I didn’t think straight up lying to her was a good move either. There was so much potential for that to come back and bite me in the rear.

So, I’d need a compromise. Namely, asking if she’d seen Logan, warning her that he was in serious trouble, and insisting on her denying him access if he did approach her—I didn’t want her to get dragged into this mess any more than she already had been. By letting him in, giving him refuge, she was bringing herself into it whether I liked it or not. It would put me in a bad place.

What if she went to the cops? What if she asked me to back off and I didn’t? Or worse, if I did?

I didn’t want to cause undo strain between us, but I knew walking away wasn’t an option. If I did, there would be another hit man to come in and take my place. One with far less scruples than I had. I wasn’t sure yet why it mattered, but there was a connection to her that I couldn’t deny, and it would be made all the more difficult if she hated me for killing her brother.

Finally, I knocked, bracing myself for how this was about to go.

It only took a moment for Madeline to answer. She didn’t seem as surprised as I’d anticipated when it was me on the other side of the door, making me think she had some inkling I would be back all along. That somehow made me feel good—right up until I caught the expression on her face.

Cold. Angry. Apprehensive.

She was still pissed then from the other night. From bringing up Logan? Or from her into oblivion twice, only to leave before she awoke? It was too early to tell.

I stepped in and she didn’t stop me, but she didn’t close the door immediately behind me either. In fact, she seemed to debate the wisdom of it altogether, as though worried about cutting off her escape route or being alone in a room with me.

I frowned. When had that started? Most people didn’t start to fear me until they’d realized what it was I did or who I worked for. And I didn’t think she’d had any access to that sort of information. Not yet.

Although I had planned before even knocking to ask about Madeline’s brother, I found myself hesitant to do so. Something about her mood made me uneasy. I decided it was better to approach her about the other reason I was there: sex. I could be honest with myself; Logan was on the backburner. Yes, there was a possibility he might show up, but there was an equally good chance that he’d just hole up in some cheap, rat-infested motel until he felt like the whole thing had blown over. Because there was even a remote chance of that, right? What a moron he was turning out to be. When it came right down to it, I wasn’t really here because of Logan. If Madeline led me to him, great, but if she didn’t have the foggiest idea where her brother was, then I didn’t care a lick.

I wanted her writhing beneath me yet again and that was the real reason I was here, whatever else I tried to convince myself of.

Switching gears, I focused my heated gaze on her. Every time before, that gaze had turned her to jelly, sweeping through her like fire. I could see it in her eyes, in the way her body shivered when near me. Slowly, my eyes slipped down her small but perky and perfectly curved frame. I let my gaze linger on her full breasts, seeming to grow each time I caught a glimpse of them, eventually allowing my eyes to tear from them only to dip lower. They trailed down her thin stomach to the flare of her full hips and that warm, wet spot between her shapely thighs.

By the time my gaze returned to her face, I expected her to be panting with need, her eyes glassy with desire. But I was wrong. Her face was stony, her eyes clear as the day outside, a cool blue that was uncharacteristic from every time I’d seen her before.

I frowned. What was going on?

Stepping closer to her, I moved slowly, carefully as though approaching a skittish animal. She didn’t move away from me, though I saw her tense. Her arms folded across her chest, which did nothing to dispel my growing desire for her. Her chest always looked so plump when she did that, as though it might spill over her arms at any moment, heaving and bouncing.

My own thoughts caused my cock to twitch within my pants, beginning to grow hard as I thought of the things I would do to her today and maybe through the night, too.

When I was only inches from her and she had to lift her chin to look up at me, I reached for her. My fingertips just barely grazed the bare skin of her arm when she jerked away from me.

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. What was the problem?

She turned away from me, sidestepping so our bodies weren’t so close and the heat couldn’t build between us as it always did. I turned to keep myself facing her, though I didn’t try to close the distance again. Was she still pissed from the other night? She hadn’t been reluctant then.

I gave her a moment to speak, to explain, to say something that would give me an indication of what was going on. But she said nothing. So, I tried again. Sliding up behind her this time, my eyes lingering on the full curve of her rear, I pressed myself against her, letting my hands linger on her hips and my member, which was mostly hard now, press against her full cheeks. For a full three seconds, it was glorious and I was sure she would melt.

But then she pulled away again, rounding on me even as she continued to put more space between us. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that,” she half growled at me. I was impressed she could even make her voice go that low.

I blinked at her in confusion. “Do what? Press my cock against your rear or let my hands fondle your body? Because you’ve let me do both before.”

She flushed and again I thought I was winning her over. But she shook her head quickly and took another step back. “Yeah, well, that was then.”

My eyebrows rose high onto my forehead. Could she be serious? What could have possibly changed in only a day? “What is with you? You’ve never seemed hesitant for my touch before. In fact, you’ve always seemed hungry for it. Desperate even.” My eyes flashed as I drug my eyes across her form again, willing her body to respond with passion and fire as it always did. “I can tell by the whimpering and moaning. The begging. You don’t beg when you don’t want it.”

She sucked in a quick breath and I knew that regardless of what she was trying to say, she did want me. Still. It didn’t explain her behavior today.

She took a moment to collect herself, then leveled me with a cold stare that threw me a little off balance. In a flat voice, she answered, “I know you’re trying to kill my brother. I know, so don’t even try to lie to me.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there considering her. She was right, of course. I was trying to kill her brother, though I was also fairly certain the piece of trash deserved it. The stealing maybe didn’t outright warrant a death sentence, but the rest of it did. I’d dealt with a thousand people just like Logan and I knew that a one-time gig like this wasn’t an option. He’d killed someone, and that changed a man. Whoever she thought her brother was, he wasn’t. It was unfortunate that she knew, as that would likely complicate our relationship—if what we had between us you could call a relationship. I felt a spark of anger at the realization that Logan had to have told her – it was the only way she could have known.

Which meant he’d been here. My eyes surreptitiously scanned the studio apartment, but I already knew he wasn’t here. The curtains that cordoned off her bedroom were only half drawn and not moving, the bathroom door was unhinged, so there was nothing there either. There really wasn’t anywhere else for the jerk to hide. I returned my focus to Madeline.

“And if that’s true?” I prompted, not committing to anything just yet. I wanted to know where I stood with things.

After a moment, she told me, soft and terribly quiet, “It doesn’t matter what my brother’s done, Nikolai. There’s no reason for him to be murdered.”

I couldn’t help it when the corner of my mouth kicked up in a small smile. “Murdered?” I repeated, sounding almost amused, though I knew that wasn’t the right approach just then. But I couldn’t help it. It was rather ridiculous. “I’m not trying to murder him.”

She frowned and I saw a spark of hope in her eyes. I almost felt bad for putting it there, but she needed to understand what was really going on. “Really? But I thought—”

I didn’t let her finish. “I’m trying to execute him.”

Instantly, she paled. The hope died and I felt a twinge of guilt attack me. “How is that any different?” she demanded angrily, throwing her arms down beside her, her hands clenching into tight fists.

“It’s different because murder suggests senselessness. That there is no purpose behind it save violence. But an execution has a reason. I have a reason.”

She scoffed at me. “What? Money?”

“No, that was your brother’s reason,” I said pointedly, even angrily. Yes, I killed people for a living. And, yes, it was about the money. And, yes, I didn’t give a rat’s rear about Logan or his buddy or whether or not they were homegrown farm boys. Mickey gave me a job, I accepted it. Period. But she was under some delusion that her brother was this poor young man, innocent and wrongly accused. That his head was on the chopping block for some mistake, something that wasn’t his fault. Like we were the villains. And maybe we were, but even villains like us had a code, and I didn’t go around murdering people for trashs and giggles.

Madeline stared at me with wide, confused eyes. There was a flicker in them that I thought might be understanding, but she shoved it away determinedly. She didn’t want to know that her brother was responsible. Well, it was too late for that.

“That’s right. Money. Your brother pissed off the wrong people by stealing a lot of money that he had no right to.” She opened her mouth to interject something, but I wasn’t finished. “And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could even say that someone had a right to walk away from that, couldn’t you? No, it’s not the moral thing to do, it doesn’t make him the good guy, does it? But it’s not like he killed someone, right?”

I looked at Madeline pointedly, watched as realization tried to flicker in her expression even as she fought to shove it back down. She was fighting hard to hold on to this idea of what her brother was supposed to be while painting me as the bad guy, but it was getting harder I could tell. She sensed that something was wrong, maybe always had.

“Except that he did kill someone, Madeline,” I continued, eyes flashing in anger. “Not in self-defense. Not to save someone else. In cold blooded murder. That’s what your brother is now, Madeline. A murderer.”

Chapter 17

Madeline

How was I supposed to stand there and listen to this?

Every part of my being was telling me he was wrong. Nikolai couldn’t be right about Logan. But even as I thought that, I couldn’t one hundred percent deny his claim. Logan and I had been close as kids, but as we grew older he became…unruly. And not just in the way that children often were, testing their limits and boundaries. He had grown almost cruel. It was in reaction to our mother’s death and I had always felt that he took it so hard because they’d been very close. But even so, I never believed it was a permanent thing.

After a while, he’d gotten better. He didn’t torture people like he did in high school, teasing and taunting at every opportunity. Moving to the city had been really good for him, and though he was constantly screwing up perfectly good opportunities, he at least was trying and making his way in the world.

That was all any of us were trying to do, right?

But as Nikolai stood there and told me about everything my brother had supposedly done, I held my breath, trying to pretend it wasn’t easy to imagine him doing those things.

“He was hired to do a job, a construction job for a very powerful organization,” Nikolai continued, oblivious to the way I was struggling to take all of this in. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t care. I was pretty sure that this “very powerful organization” meant some sort of mafia, so there was every chance that he really didn’t give a hoot.

Oh goodness, I had sex with someone connected to the mafia! Worse than that, though, I’d given my virginity to Nikolai, gotten pregnant by him, and not only was he connected to the mafia, but he was a contract killer for them!

The father of my baby—I couldn’t finish the thought. My only relief was that I hadn’t mentioned the baby to him. I had decided that I would, though I had been terrified to do so. In fact, before Logan showed up in my apartment, I’d been hoping to see Nikolai again so I could tell him. Now, I was incredibly grateful that I hadn’t shared that information with him yet.

What would I do then if he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life? He was a hit man, for goodness sake! I couldn’t let him have anything to do with the baby or me. No matter how much my body continued to call out for his strong arms or his muscled chest or other things. It didn’t matter if I wanted the length of his manhood buried in me or not, Nikolai just simply couldn’t be a part of my life now.

“It all would have been fine, except Logan found out they were housing money there. He decided it would be a better way to make money to steal it than to earn it. But he didn’t stop there. When he discovered that there was a guard watching the money, he beat that guard to death. The man was barely recognizable when they found him. Quite the mess.”

I paled. I wished Nikolai would stop speaking, that he would just leave. Walk out that door and back out of my life—how had I let myself get into this mess? I was having difficulty breathing, imagining the brutality that my brother had done to that other man. I even felt a little dizzy, though I tried to stay strong while Nikolai was here. I didn’t need him seeing any weakness from me. What would he do if he did?

At this point, Nikolai had turned away from me, running his large hands through his thick, silky hair. He’d begun to pace anxiously, or maybe angrily, throwing glances my way every so often. For the first time, I considered how truly menacing he was.

He was much taller than I was, towering over me. His face was full of sharp, hard lines that I’d once thought of only as strong and even devilishly charming. Well, I’d gotten the devilish part right, hadn’t I? His eyes were striking, entrancing even, but now I noticed that they easily flashed with anger and might even be considered cold where once I had only thought of them as warm and inviting. His shoulders were broad and now I couldn’t help but picture a body being thrown over them, not a naked woman—me, for instance—writhing in passion or begging, but rather a dead body. My brother, even. How many times had he carried his victims like that, throwing them over his shoulder before dumping them in a ditch or a shallow grave somewhere?

Did he even bother with graves?

I shuddered.

The large muscles of his arms flexed, reminding me how much stronger he was. How easily he’d pinned me to the floor, both of my arms held tightly above my head with only one of his. He’d done that without even breaking a sweat, I thought, and there was no denying that I’d been completely unable to break free of that grasp. Sure, at the time I’d been consumed by passion and need, but what if I’d been struggling? What if I’d wanted to get free? I wouldn’t have been able to.

It was a terrifying thought.

Everything about Nikolai suddenly seemed menacing, though I was trying to reconcile the image of him as a killer with the image I knew of him as a passionate, aggressive, but dedicated lover.

I didn’t know what to think anymore and it was getting harder for me to breathe, not to mention stand up straight.

“You…you need to go,” I managed to get out. My voice was timid, shaky even, but at least I managed to get the words out. That alone seemed pretty impressive given who he was and what he was clearly capable of.

This caused Nikolai to stop. He whipped his head around in my direction, a look that I couldn’t quite read sliding across his features. Then he seemed to freeze. I thought his gaze was fixed on me, but then I realized his eyes were actually stuck on something just past me, sitting behind me. I waited for him to respond, but when he just continued to stare at whatever it was that had so surely caught his attention, I finally risked turning. I hadn’t wanted to look away from him, for fear that he might do something crazy, but I was too curious to know what it was that had caused him to freeze.

When I looked behind me, at first I didn’t see anything. It was the kitchen, mostly clean except for a mug of tea—I was trying to wean myself off of coffee for the sake of the baby—and a half-eaten bagel that had actually been Logan’s, not mine. I hadn’t been able to make myself eat that morning at all, partially because of the terrible morning sickness that happened pretty much every morning now, and partially because the thought of Logan nearly dying was too terrible to think of. And the idea that Nikolai was the one to kill him? Well, it was all just too much for me anymore.

I was just about to turn away and ask him what his problem was, or maybe just tell him to go, when I saw it. The thing that must have caught his attention.

The baby book.

I paled. At school that day, I’d gone to the bookstore on campus. They had all of the class books listed on the required reading material for the classes, but they also had other books, too. They had a lot of fiction books, ranging through all the subgenres there in—I admitted, I’d bought more than a few romance books over the years in attendance. Then there were the nonfiction books, which were mostly biographies or books about geographical locations. But there were a few other oddball books, including a whole section that was dedicated to the “expecting mother.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do or what I was looking for, I didn’t know what would happen with Nikolai, but I’d known it was time to start taking care of myself.

So, I’d bought a book. It was all about what to eat, how to deal with morning sickness—the tea was supposed to help, but I didn’t think it did in the slightest—what sort of prenatal vitamins to get, how to start preparing for the hormonal imbalances, and so on. Though I hadn’t gotten the chance to look through it much, it was still sitting there on the counter, taunting me.

I’d never even thought to put it up. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was.

When my eyes went back to Nikolai, I saw that he was focused on me now, too. His eyes flashed with something that I couldn’t decipher. Was it anger at finding out I was pregnant? Was it pride at knowing he’d spread his seed inside me and created something that would grow in my womb? Was it annoyance that I was yet again another complication?

The possibilities raced through my head, all of them becoming more and more terrible as they went on. What if he decided I was too much trouble now? Would he kill me—kill the baby? Oh goodness, what if he did? He was certainly capable. He was a contract killer, for goodness sake!

“Why do you need a book for expecting mothers, Madeline?” he asked quietly, calmly, though I could see emotions raging in his eyes.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing could get out. My vision began to blur, the edges going black. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. I was already falling, fading out completely.

Chapter 18

Nikolai

As soon as I noticed her falling, I went to her. Madeline crumpled, pale and fragile, just as I swallowed her in my arms. She was dead weight, but I lifted her easily, carrying her as I might a bride in my arms. A fissure of panic sliced through my already pounding heart, calmed only by the realization that, though she was incredibly pale and looked so breakable in my arms, she was most definitely breathing.

She had only fainted.

I carried her to the little section of her studio apartment that was cordoned off. The section clearly acted as her bedroom with a curtain sectioning it away privately from the rest of the place. As a result, it was tiny and contained essentially only a bed and a bedside table with a tiny little light sitting on the top. There was a clock set there, too; otherwise, there was only a door I noticed as her closet and nothing else. Not that there was room for anything else. The bed took up so much space that I could barely fit around the edges of it. It reminded me again how much smaller she was than me.

Carefully, I laid her out on the bed, pulling back the covers slightly so I could tuck them around her fragile frame.

When I straightened, I took a long moment to just stare down at her.

That book…expecting mothers? Why would Madeline have something like that? But even as I thought about that, I knew the answer. We’d had a passionate night together a couple of months ago. A passionate night in which I’d claimed her as mine twice and twice released myself into her waiting, willing body. At the time, I hadn’t thought a single thing of it. Why would I? But I should have. After she told me that I’d been her first, her only, well, I should have considered that, perhaps, she wasn’t on any type of birth control. What would be the need if she’d never lain with a man before?

Part of me swelled with pride. I’d impregnated her. Was there any clearer claim than that? She was mine. Period.

Unfortunately, things weren’t one hundred percent that simple. I acknowledged that, perhaps, this was all a misunderstanding. She was in college; that book could have been for a class or a friend or maybe just for her own curiosity. But if she were pregnant, then there would be complications. I was a hit man for the Russian mob; her being pregnant didn’t change that and I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. I was good at my job, even enjoyed it on occasion, and it paid better than any other job I might find out there. And I had been doing this for so long now that I didn’t even have a résumé. My last job had been tossing pizzas in a restaurant down the road from Mickey’s, still owned by him, of course, and had lasted about five months before I’d started getting involved with the mob boss.

What sort of job could I even hope to find? Not one that could provide for a baby and its mother, that was for sure.

I frowned. Was I seriously considering keeping Madeline and this hypothetical baby?

On the one hand, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Hadn’t I already decided that I couldn’t stay away from Madeline? Whether it was the incredibly tempting pussy between her legs or the fact that she lingered in my mind regardless of what else was happening in my life, there was no denying that I wanted her. Hungrily, I wanted her.

On the other hand, hadn’t I come to the conclusion a long time ago that having a wife and a family wasn’t an option? In my line of work that was just an impossibility. No one wanted to spend their lives with a man who killed other men to pay the bills.

I studied Madeline as she lay there on her bed. Color was slowly returning to her cheeks, making her instantly look healthier. And not just healthier, sexier, too. Maybe it was the thought that she could have my baby growing inside of her, this direct link to me that could not be denied, or maybe it was just the same attraction I’d always felt for her, but I found myself thinking of the ways I wanted to have her.

We’d been pressed together in the shower before, my cock sliding between her slick thighs until I dove into her, filling that impossibly tight space with everything I had. I’d had her in my bed, tasting her and pounding into her until we were both driven to sweet pleasure and release. And I’d had her on the floor of her tiny, mostly empty apartment. But there were other places I wanted her.

In this little bed where she lay right now. I wanted to make her mine there, too, so she remembered the force with which I harassed her every time she lay down in it. And I wanted her in the kitchen—hers, mine, some random restaurant, it didn’t matter—where I’d sit her perky, full rear on the counter and maybe taste her sweet pussy lips before burying myself in her over and over again.

Other places, too. My car. Outdoors somewhere maybe, a lake or a park or up in the mountains. I wanted her on a beach, in a bathroom, bent over a porch railing in the rain wearing nothing but a white dress that quickly became soaked, see through, her breasts bouncing as her hard nipples pressed into the fabric.

I shook my head. I couldn’t keep thinking about this. My cock was straining against my pants already, begging to be let free and to dive into Madeline’s hot, tight little body. Thinking about the things I wanted from her was too much; I’d lose myself if I didn’t try to focus.

There were more important things going on. Besides, I had the feeling that she wasn’t really in the mood right then to let me harass her senseless. I’d just have to be patient.

Adjusting my full erection to a more comfortable position, I took a seat on the bed beside Madeline. I would have to wait until she was conscious before I could get the full story on what was happening. I would make her tell me about the book, about if she were pregnant or not—if she were, it was mine; I was the only man she’d ever been with. If the answer was yes, my fate was sealed, as was hers. She would be mine, forever. There would be no going back. Whatever my lifestyle, she would have to adapt to it. I was willing to change my living arrangements—if she wanted a bigger place, a house instead of an apartment, to decorate the place herself, that was perfectly acceptable. I would honor her wishes. I would also, of course, stop bringing home other women. My sex life would dwindle to just her small, perfectly curved body, and that tight little core embedded between her long, shapely legs. I couldn’t even make myself upset at the idea of being a one-woman man.

All of that, I would change for her. But I wouldn’t change my profession. There would be no point. When the baby arrived, I could take some time off. Mickey would understand. But I wouldn’t stop being what I was; there was too much at stake. It wasn’t just about the money. People often had grudges against the hit men who retired. I wasn’t willing to take the chance that some disgruntled customer—or family member—would come knocking and find my woman and my child instead of me. I wouldn’t risk that they might be hurt for it.

So the job would stay. Madeline would just have to get used to it.

All of these thoughts filled my head as I made plans for a future. Part of me tried to calm myself, to hold things back. I couldn’t let myself get carried away if it turned out that I’d misunderstood things. If she weren’t pregnant at all, I was beginning to think I wanted to keep her anyway and try to get her pregnant.

Maybe it was a terrible idea, but I was suddenly so enamored with the thought of having an heir, a child to carry on my name, that I thought it might be worth a try. I was fairly certain it wouldn’t take much to convince Madeline—once I calmed her down about her brother and my profession.

My thoughts still racing, Madeline finally began to stir. I tensed; this was it.

She groaned, turning slightly in her bed beneath the covers, her head rolling slightly to the side. Her eyelids fluttered, her long lashes batting at her cheeks. When they finally opened, she seemed slightly disoriented, looking around as though getting her bearings. Finally, her bright blue eyes focused on me. She stilled, tensed.

Opening her mouth to say something, she shut it abruptly as though reconsidering whatever she’d been about to say. She tried to push herself into a sitting position and I helped her, settling a pillow behind her back so she would have an easier time of it. Madeline was eyeing me warily, but didn’t protest as I helped her.

When she was settled, I asked the question that was burning inside of me, “Are you pregnant?”

Her eyes went wide, then became glassy. It happened so fast that I couldn’t have seen it coming. The tears welled and her face crumbled as she released a wet sob. Something in my chest constricted, letting me know I most definitely did not like seeing her cry. It was worse because I felt as though I was the cause. Before I could do something—or even decide if I should do anything—she choked out an answer.

“Yes,” she said, her voice watery and still wracked by sobs. “I…I found out a few…d-days ago. A-and I w-was going to…to tell you.” She sobbed heavily again and I couldn’t make out what she said. It cleared up again enough that I could at least decipher her words, “…wouldn’t w-want any-anything to do w-with it.”

For a moment, I froze. I didn’t realize how much I’d been worried that she wasn’t pregnant until I felt a fire zip through me at the knowledge that for certain she was. Pride filled my chest until I thought I might burst. I had made her pregnant. She was carrying my child. I pictured her stomach swelling with a part of me. I pictured her holding a baby, smiling up at me, just as beautiful and sexy as she’d ever been, and one hundred percent mine.

There was no question about any of it now. Her words confirmed it in my mind. I would take her home. I would keep her safe and take care of her. When the baby came, I would raise it with pride and love. An heir. A concept I’d never even let myself dream about—an heir.

A slow smile slipped across my lips. She must have seen it, because her sobs slowed. Her breathing was still ragged and her face was ruddy from crying and wet from tears. Her eyes were rimmed in red, still glassy, though they were no longer pouring out tears. She blinked at me, sniffling and hiccupping slightly, uncertainty written clearly across her features. A smile was not what she’d expected, clearly, but it didn’t matter. Her expectations had been completely off the mark and I was about to set her straight.

“Good,” I told her, my voice low and husky. She was already pregnant, but I wanted to fill her up again and again with my seed. “It’s settled, then.”

She blinked at me, confused. “What’s settled?”

“You’re mine now. You’ll have to tell your fiancé immediately that you can’t marry him, because you belong to me.”

“Belong to…?” She was dazed, wide-eyed and a little lost-looking.

“You’re carrying my child and I won’t have my child raised by another man. You’re mine now, Madeline. Just mine.”

Chapter 19

Madeline

Two months ago, all I wanted was Nikolai. He was dark and sexy and filled me with the kind of pleasure that I’d never known in my entire life. He filled up my wettest dreams at night and took up more space in my thoughts than he should have. In fact, up until my brother had shown up on my doorstep just hours ago, I would have been thrilled with the idea of Nikolai staking his claim on me. I would have reveled in the idea that I would belong to the man who was the father of my baby. I would have been filled with anticipation and want and elation at the idea that he would come here, tell me I couldn’t marry Shawn, and proceed to claim me both physically and emotionally.

How could I not want that?

But things were different now. They’d changed so dramatically in such a short amount of time that I was feeling a little woozy, breathless. Maybe it was because I’d just fainted or that I was pregnant, but I had the feeling it was because I knew things about Nikolai now.

Dangerous things.

He was a hit man for the mob. Which meant he killed people! How could I possibly be okay with belonging to a man who killed people for a living? Even so, I might have stopped and seriously thought about it. It was terrible, but there was some part of me that still desperately craved Nikolai. I told myself it was hormones. I was pregnant and he was devilishly sexy, regardless of what he did for a living. Plus, he’d been my first—and only. There was a chemical bond there, right? Something that made me attached to him, even though intellectually I understood what a terrible mistake being with him would be.

So, as I waved off my inexplicable attraction to and desire for him, I tried to come up with an explanation. An excuse. Something that would force Nikolai from me, make him think I was not the thing he wanted.

Why am I the thing he wants? I found myself wondering.

Whatever I knew about Nikolai, there was no denying that he was sexy and handsome and clearly had money. He could attract any woman he wanted. And more to the point, he wouldn’t have to settle with only a single woman. He could go out and pick up anyone, just as he had with me, at the bar. He could take them home, harass them senseless—my body shivered at the memory of the things he’d done to be—then leave them just as he’d done that first night with me. Why settle for some farm girl who didn’t know anything about sex and her baby?

Then something else hit me. Before I could get any warm and fuzzy ideas about how it was sweet that he wanted to step up and claim the baby or how sexy it was that he wanted to spend my life with me, I realized that there was another option. A much more likely probability. What if he had no intentions of being just with me?

Sure, he was sitting there on my bed looking down at me with fiery eyes that told me he wanted to physically show me just how much he wanted me. And, yes, he was talking about how I now belonged to him, claimed me as his once and for all. But nowhere in any of that did he say that he belonged to me, too.

What if he was intending on keeping me, using me for sex—or even a brooding mare! —then when he got bored with me, going out to the bars again to pick up some other woman? What if he intended to keep others even as I raised his baby, isolated and not allowed to go out in search of another man who might love me?

It was an awful thought and it filled me with both fear and disgust. But most of all, it made me ache. I wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what it meant, but my chest hurt from the idea that maybe he would sleep with other women.

Why should I care? After all, he was a hit man and not a good match for me at all. I had already decided I didn’t want him raising my baby, so what did I care if he went out and bedded other women? I shouldn’t care at all, I thought, but even that knowledge wasn’t enough to completely dispel the tense feeling in my chest.

Pushing it aside forcefully, I focused on Nikolai. He was sitting there with his eyes now locked on where my stomach would be beneath the covers, as though he could already see his baby growing in my womb. He couldn’t; it was still too early. But he watched me anyway.

The possession was clear in his expression and I knew instantly that just telling him no wasn’t an option. I had to come up with something else, and fast. Which was why I blurted the first thing that came to my mind, though it wasn’t anywhere near the truth.

“It’s not yours,” I said stiffly. “I…you were wrong to assume. It’s not yours. I…I meant that I was going to tell you because I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. Or getting involved with…when it wasn’t yours.”

It was a boldfaced lie, but it must have been somewhat convincing, because Nikolai jerked his eyes back up to my face. He looked…hurt. Or maybe angry. Or maybe both.

“What?” he demanded. “That’s not possible. I was your first. I was your only.” His voice had dropped to a growl that sent strange shivers through my entire body. Definitely angry, but not just angry either.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look him in the eye so it seemed like I was being completely honest as I said, “I lied.” I shrugged my shoulders, forcing myself to continue, though I found it harder to do as I moved forward with the attempt. “I…I just said it because I heard guys were turned on by virgins. I…I’m one hundred percent certain that…that…” I winced and hoped he didn’t catch it, not knowing why this last part was so hard for me to get out. Not knowing why it made my chest hurt so much, why I felt so awful for making this all up. Not sure why it hurt me to try so hard to make Nikolai not want me. “That Shawn is the father. He’s my fiancé. We’re getting married. It’s his baby. I’m positive.”

There was a long moment where Nikolai simply sat there. He stared at me, seemingly frozen in time or lost in some thoughts that were far, far away from me. For a second, I thought I’d actually broken him somehow. He looked so vulnerable. It was almost enough to make me feel awful about what I’d told him, and for a wild moment, I almost went back and said it was all a lie. But then the anger came.

He jerked up to a standing position, his face growing red with anger. His eyes flashed at me and I felt a twinge of guilt race through me. I loved those eyes, the way they always looked at me with hunger.

Except not now. Now, they were just angry.

I’m sorry, I found myself thinking. But I didn’t say it aloud. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter how much my heart ached to have Nikolai with me. It didn’t matter that I wanted him in ways that I’d never wanted any other man. It didn’t matter that he filled me with warmth and need and something else that I couldn’t explain but was breaking right in that moment. It didn’t matter, because I simply couldn’t let him raise my baby. I couldn’t.

“Positive,” he repeated.

I answered, though it wasn’t really a question and I didn’t really want to say it. “Yes, positive.” It hurt me to get the words out, but I managed.

He began to pace angrily along the length of my floor. Which really wasn’t much. In one stride, he was across it and had to turn around to take another stride and repeat the process. There just wasn’t enough space in my bedroom area for proper pacing, but he was trying. Probably because the tension that lined his shoulders looked vicious and I was pretty sure anger consumed him.

But he wasn’t leaving. I had the sinking suspicion that there was some small part of him that was thinking things through, that he was trying to come to some sort of conclusion. Maybe trying to make himself be okay with me having lied or me having slept with Shawn or even the baby not being his. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he was still trying to make himself all right with me belonging to him when I so clearly had been with someone else.

How odd, I thought.

Why would he care? Really, a baby was a burden, wasn’t it? Most guys didn’t even want one. And though Shawn had stepped up to the plate, it seemed to me it had more to do with some lingering puppy love for me rather than any want for a child.

The thought made me a little annoyed. Did I really want Shawn, who didn’t seem to actually want my baby, marrying me and raising it?

Pushing that thought aside, I reminded myself that it was the best of a bunch of really bad options. No, I wasn’t in love with Shawn. No, the baby wasn’t his. No, I didn’t want to be married to him for the rest of my life, but it was time to make some adult decisions. Shawn would be a good father and husband, even if the love he felt for me would have to be forever unrequited. I would do my best to try to be a good little wife, to even love him if I could. The thought caused the aching in my chest to worsen, but I somehow knew it would never be what I wanted.

Unfortunately, it was my only option left. I couldn’t let Nikolai be the father of my child, no matter how much he seemed to want to. His life was filled with murder and danger and the little fact that he was after my brother.

How could I let the man who wanted to murder my brother be the father of my child?

There was a simple answer: I couldn’t.

So, I pushed forward, even though it was like ripping out my own heart. “Nikolai, I’m marrying Shawn.” I said it with as much firmness as I could. Enough power in those words to make them believable even to my own ears, which were still trying to translate the words into something else that sounded a lot more like Nikolai. It was enough to make Nikolai turn and stare at me. The anger hadn’t disappeared, nor had the tension, but there was something else lacing it, too. Something that I couldn’t place, or maybe just didn’t want to. Finally, I had to look away to say the very last part, possibly the most important part. “I’m marrying Shawn and I never want to see you again. Not ever.”

Rage bloomed anew on Nikolai’s face. He was livid, anger and anguish marring his beautiful features until I felt as though I’d wrecked something precious. His eyes flashed with unspoken words. Things that were probably terrible, meant to be like cutting, slicing knives to dive into my heart and my flesh. He probably wanted me to hurt like I seemed to be making him hurt, but there was nothing to be done about it. His mouth remained shut and with one last scathing look, he turned away from me.

I felt that ache in my heart intensify. Suddenly, I felt like I was struggling to breathe. I didn’t know why it was so hard to watch him walk away, but it was causing me what felt like real, physical pain.

I wanted him to stay. Despite how bad I knew he was for me and my baby, I felt inexplicably drawn to him. I wanted him to be here with me.

But he couldn’t be in my life. I had to think about not only what was best for me, but for my baby, too. Not to mention my brother.

Nikolai paused at the door. He turned and looked straight at me, that last look so searing that I could almost feel it like a punch in the gut. Finally, he turned away and stomped out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

I waited several beats in the silence that followed before it consumed me.

He’s gone. He’s gone, and with what I’ve said, he’s never coming back.

The knowledge of that fact wracked my body. Sobs came up unbidden. Curling myself up in a ball on my bed, I cried until I had no tears left. When I was finally exhausted, I fell asleep.

Chapter 20

Nikolai

Angry did not begin to cover what I was feeling in that moment. As I slammed the door to Madeline’s apartment behind me there was a sense of finality that shook my system to the core. The idea that somehow everything I had experienced with Madeline was a lie was almost too much for me to bear. Emotions swamped me until I wasn’t even sure what I was thinking.

Was I angry with her for lying to me? Or upset at the idea that the baby wasn’t mine? Should I feel relieved about the whole thing—or was this a moment to feel betrayed?

I wasn’t certain, but there was one little thing that I couldn’t quite put out of my head: what if Madeline was lying? Not then, not before when she told me she had been a virgin and that I had been her very first. No, instead, what if it was just now that had been a lie? I had witnessed her tears. She’d seemed genuinely afraid to tell me about the baby, but not because it wasn’t mine. Instead, she’d seemed positive that it was mine and that her hesitancy to tell me stemmed from this idea that I wouldn’t have wanted it.

And perhaps I shouldn’t have. God knew it would make my life much more complicated. In the end, Madeline had given me a very viable way out. No child to worry about. No lover to remain at home, preventing me from entertaining other female guests in my home or my bed. No responsibilities as such.

Except I had pictured a life with all of those things—a life with Madeline and that baby—and now there was a strange, aching part of me that wanted it. The urge was so strong that I had to force myself to take deep, soothing breaths and remember I was standing outside her apartment because there was a chance the baby wasn’t mine.

But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was.

There was a huge part of me that wanted to march right back in there and demand she tell me the truth. I wanted her to admit she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, that I had been her first, that her desire for me had driven her to give up her virginity to me and me alone. I wanted her to pour out her deepest desires, because I knew they circled around me. She had to be craving the same things I was. She had to want deep, passionate sex that left her aching in the morning, but sated in a way that she’d never been before.

She had to.

And some part of her had to want to tell me the baby was mine. I knew it.

But the much more rational part of me knew that was a poor choice. Madeline had made it clear that she didn’t want to admit the baby was mine—if it was at all, of course—and going back now would only cause more problems. No, I would have to leave so I could clear my head. I had to think things through and come up with a better approach. A means of proving the baby was mine, to begin with, and then a way of proving how much Madeline wanted me.

Things that would take some careful planning, I was beginning to assume.

Plus, if I gave Madeline enough time alone, maybe she would come to her senses. Once she’d calmed down about the whole thing, she could realize that we were clearly made for each other. And more importantly, that she was already mine, not that jerk fiancé of hers. She didn’t belong with him. If she did, she wouldn’t keep spreading her legs for me to fit between.

Resolving to give things a little space and time, I reminded myself I had a job to complete anyway. Logan’s trail was getting cold and since I hadn’t learned anything of his whereabouts from Madeline—as though I’d even asked in the first place—I was falling quickly behind. If I didn’t get my rear in gear, I was going to end up right back where I started.

I decided I needed to put all of my attention in finding and killing Logan. Once that was taken care of, I could deal with the issues with Madeline. And if that gave her enough time to get married before coming to her senses, if that meant killing a husband, so be it.

Feeling better at least a little bit now that I had renewed direction, I focused my attention on my work.

Turning determinedly from the door, I stalked down the hallway towards the stairs that would lead me to the lobby. I considered where Logan might be now, given that he clearly wasn’t hiding out at Madeline’s. The only smart thing the jerk had done in the first place. If he dragged her into this, I might be forced to do worse than kill him. I still didn’t think the father was a place Logan would go. It was out of town, which would be the smart move to make, but I was getting the impression that the father was…stricter and less forgiving than Madeline.

What sort of young woman, as beautiful and lovable as Madeline, was still a virgin in her early twenties? The answer was one who had been raised to believe in waiting for sex until marriage. And typically, those types of parents were very strict in their belief systems and less forgiving of straying from the path.

Which might be why Madeline is so eager to be married.

The thought came unbidden, but as soon as it was there I felt that it was viable. After all, if her father was strict about the whole no sex until marriage thing, then her being pregnant would put her at odds with her family. But if she married Shawn before she started showing…yes, it was certainly a realistic scenario.

Unfortunately, so was the one where she lied about being a virgin in the first place.

I frowned and tried to refocus on Logan. The father was out as a hiding place. So, obviously, was Madeline. There was no mother. So, what were my options? I thought about his partner from the bar that night. Was there a possibility that I could get more information on him and that they were maybe hiding out together? It seemed reasonable. I decided I would try Peter first, then Mickey. The less I had to involve Mickey, the happier he would be about the whole thing.

I headed down the stairs, finally emerging into the lobby. I noticed there wasn’t even a person sitting at the front desk and thought not for the first time how lousy of a place this was. She can’t stay here, I thought, and had to remind myself I was trying to give Madeline space.

Obviously, it wasn’t going very well just yet.

As I was making my way towards the door, I noticed a young man heading in. He had dirt colored hair and a summery tanned skin tone, but otherwise was unremarkable. I would have walked right past him if I hadn’t had a sudden, vivid spark of memory. He was standing next to Madeline just opposite her apartment door. They were leaving together, talking and familiar in a way that made my hackles rise. I didn’t care for the way they were being so casual, so used to each other’s presence. It didn’t settle well with me to the point where I had the urge to sink my fist into his face.

A similar reaction came over me now, but stronger in intensity as I finally put some of the pieces together. This man here was Shawn. Her fiancé. The man whom she claimed had gotten her pregnant, but wasn’t man enough to make her want him the way she wanted me.

Sudden, blinding rage consumed me and all I wanted to do was inflict serious violence upon this unsuspecting wretch of a man. I should have kept walking, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe if I hadn’t caught his gaze and seen sudden spark of recognition on his part, too, I could have done it. But this man had put together who I was just as I’d done with him, which sparked a mingling of anger and hope in my chest.

Madeline had mentioned me just as she had mentioned him. Maybe that meant nothing, but a small, determined voice in my head promised this was important. I was important enough to her that she had told him about me.

Shawn’s features darkened, his expression one of obvious annoyance and anger towards me. It fed the emotions inside me, the ones that told me it was a good thing that I had already gotten under this man’s skin. After all, why would he be annoyed towards me if I meant nothing to Madeline? It wasn’t as though she had told him I was her fiancé, after all.

Squaring my shoulders, gearing up for a fight, I stopped my progress and allowed him to approach me. He did automatically, easily, and I smiled darkly at his eagerness.

My hands ached with the urge to ball into fists, to pummel into his tanned, unremarkable face. She deserves better than you, I thought without missing a beat. I could beat him to within an inch of his life and farther. If I got rid of him and then his body, Madeline would have no one to claim as hers, no wall to put up in defense of my relentless determination to claim her.

It would be easy, but I restrained.

I arched an eyebrow at him, waiting.

Puffing himself up as big as he was able, he squared his shoulders—slighter, less impressive compared to my own well-defined body—and lifted his chin just slightly. It might have been a gesture of defiance if he weren’t so obviously shorter than me. Short enough that he had to look up to stare me in the eyes.

It made me smile viciously down at him.

“You need to leave her alone,” he said in what was supposed to be a menacing, in control tone, I was sure, but fell rather flat on my ears.

His simple command made my body twitch with sudden, gripping tension. What right did this child have to order me around? He couldn’t call himself a man, clearly, since he hadn’t yet convinced Madeline the way I had. Sure, she was avoiding me now, hiding behind him as though that might detour me, but I knew better. She was only afraid of the deep well of desire that opened up whenever we were in the same room together. It wasn’t because of any love or devotion to this pathetic excuse of a man.

I grinned at him, dark and menacing, as I forced myself to be calm, despite the growing need to pummel him. “I’ll give you one opportunity,” I told him in a calm that should have terrified him.

I saw him shake a little, but he did his best to hold it back. It was the only impressive thing I’d seen him do yet, but it wasn’t enough to make me like him more. There was something slimy about him that made me want to wash my hands of this poor excuse for a human being. I couldn’t explain it, but it was there.

“Opportunity for what?” he asked snidely.

“To walk away from her.”

At that he barked out a short, obnoxious laugh. He was clearly trying to be tough, but was inexperienced with it to say the least. I found him to be annoying at best, but I was determined—for Madeline’s poor heart more than anything else—to give him this single opportunity. Then I would show him what I did to people who tried to give me orders. I waited for an answer and it came swiftly.

“Who do you think you are?” he answered, his thin lips pulling back in a sneer. Perhaps my repulsion was purely because he was moving in on my territory, but I found him to be an ugly young man. More so the longer I was in his presence. “She’s my fiancée and if you think for one second that—”

I didn’t let him finish. As soon as fiancée slipped from his ugly mouth, I grabbed for him. My hands fisted themselves into his plain t-shirt and I shoved him backwards. He slammed into the wall and I lifted, finding him to be light as I pinned him against the wall for leverage. His feet dangled just out of reach of the floor as I got into his face.

“I will tell you this once, so listen well because I will not have a second conversation with you,” I told him in a low, dangerous tone, my emotions getting the better of me. I didn’t care. “If you come within eyesight of Madeline ever again, I will have no choice. I will kill you. Don’t underestimate me, boy.”

With that, I let him fall. He stumbled, then finally just slumped down against the wall, landing on his butt with his long legs spiraled awkwardly about him. He was wide-eyed and pale, looking like some gawking, awkward teenager instead of the man who was supposed to marry Madeline.

I left him feeling sure that at least one problem was taken care of. He wasn’t brave enough to defy me.

Chapter 21

Madeline

It took me a while to get myself under control. I couldn’t explain why I was so devastated by Nikolai leaving; after all, I’d been the one to tell him to do so. In fact, I’d lied through my teeth to force the issue. But my heart ached and heaved all the same at his absence. I blamed it on the hormones surging through me thanks to my pregnancy, but I had the feeling I was only lying to myself.

This was something different entirely.

Ultimately, I did get out of bed, though. It was the reminder that my brother was out there somewhere, that Nikolai was hunting him that brought me out of my bed in the end.

Nikolai had told me a lot of things about my brother. Bad things. He’d accused him of murder and stealing and getting in bad with whom I could only assume was the mob. Part of me was inclined to think my brother was capable of some pretty awful things—tormenting kids in school who were nerdy or had problems at home, speech impediments, and even mental problems, not to mention throwing rocks at windows, drinking and driving through the neighborhoods while smashing people’s mailboxes—but stealing was a step up even for him. And it wasn’t like a little shoplifting. I didn’t condone that, but I could write that off pretty easily. My brother could get himself into some trouble pretty easily, but only the little things. I couldn’t see him stealing a lot of money from the mob any more than I could see him stealing a car or a gun or a TV. That was all just too ridiculous.

And killing someone?

No, never. Logan was a screw up in a lot of ways as a kid, but he had been evolving. Changing. He’d been getting his life together, hadn’t he? He wasn’t the same black sheep child he had been after mom’s death. He’d “gone straight,” as dad liked to say. He was working in construction now, paying his bills—well, most of them; I’d helped him out a time or two—following through with plans. That didn’t sound like the type of man who would get into trouble like this, did it?

No. I decided Nikolai had to be wrong. Why wouldn’t he lie? Clearly, he was a murdering hit man. Was lying such a stretch from that?

There was a weird, mutating thing in my stomach that told me not to be so quick to absolve Logan nor to condemn Nikolai. It reminded me that there were secrets flying around and lies, too. How did I really know my brother was as squeaky clean as I thought?

Because I know Nikolai isn’t, I countered, but it still wasn’t enough. I felt uneasy about the whole thing, but in the end, I knew I had to get ahold of my brother.

Whatever he’d done, he didn’t deserve to die. I had to protect him in whatever way I could.

I quickly grabbed my phone, getting ready to dial my brother. There was a good chance he wouldn’t pick up. I’d tried to get ahold of him on and off for the last few years that I’d been in the city, and he only ever picked up a handful of times. He never called me back. Even so, I was hopeful that, given the circumstances, he might actually put a little more importance behind getting ahold of me.

When I glanced at the screen, I saw I had missed several calls from Shawn. Irritation flooded me; couldn’t he just give me some space?

Instantly, I felt horrible for it. He was doing everything he could to make my life easier, and while I knew for certain that I didn’t love him back, he did care about me a lot and was willing to put his own life aside for the sake of making mine easier.

Not that he wouldn’t get what he wanted, too.

I frowned. It was getting harder to figure out what was going on in peoples’ heads these days. Ignoring the missed calls, I went to my brother’s number and dialed. It rang a half a dozen times and I was sure that, just like every other time, he wouldn’t pick up. Thus, my surprise when there was a click, then a quick, “Hello? Hello? Madeline?”

“Logan?” I asked in surprise. I really hadn’t thought he’d answer.

I heard him sigh in relief. “Thank goodness. What’s going on?”

I didn’t ask him about the “thank goodness” thing. Was he just really happy to hear from me or was he worried it was someone else calling? “I needed to talk to you about…about what happened this morning.” I bit my lip, uncertain how much was okay to talk about over the phone. It seemed paranoid on my part, but couldn’t people track phones and listen in on conversations? I didn’t really think Nikolai would have the opportunity to do that to my phone, but I had been unconscious around him on more than one occasion. I blushed as I thought about what most of those occasions had been the result of.

“We shouldn’t be talking about it on the phone.” Logan’s voice seemed hesitant and not particularly happy.

I shook my head, though of course he couldn’t see that. “I know, but it’s important.”

There was a pause, then he asked, “What is it?”

“The man who’s after you—” I almost said Nikolai’s name, but wasn’t sure I wanted to yet. Was that good or bad? “—he’s been here.”

“What?” Logan’s voice was incredulous and more than a little shocked, though there wasn’t necessarily the anger I’d been expecting. Not that it mattered, I just thought that as his sister, he’d be a little bit more concerned about my safety. Instead, however, he just asked, “You didn’t tell him anything, right? I mean, you didn’t tell him anything about me or that I’d been there, did you?”

I frowned, but didn’t bother saying he was a bad brother for not being even a little bit concerned about my safety in all of this. Instead, I said, “Of course not! I would never do that. But…he definitely knows I’m your sister. And I don’t know if he knows you were here or not, but he’s come looking.” And looking for other things, but I didn’t mention that. Logan didn’t need to know I had had sex with Nikolai, nor that I was carrying his baby. That seemed like it would cause too many complications.

He made a strangled, frustrated sound and I imagined him pacing, running his hands through his blond hair. Finally, he cursed and said, “All right. You’re going to have to get out of there. Go into hiding. For your own protection.”

I softened at that, feeling guilty for assuming he didn’t care about me. He was my brother; of course he cared about my safety. But then I thought about it. “Hiding? Why? Why can’t you just talk this out or go to the police or—”

Before I could even finish, he jumped on me. “No police!”

I paused, letting a still silence settle over us. No police. A stone sank low in my gut, whispering to me that Nikolai had been right. Logan did do something bad. But maybe he didn’t kill anyone. Maybe Nikolai was lying and it was only money that he took. I wanted to believe that so bad, but why would Nikolai lie about only one part of it and not the other?

“Logan, you need to tell me what’s going on.” My voice came out as little more than a tiny whisper, barely even making the trip through the phone to the other end.

There was a pause, then Logan said, “Okay, I…I’m in a little bit of trouble.”

“Trouble,” I repeated.

“Yeah. I did something kind of stupid. Okay, really stupid. But it’ll all work out. I just need a little time and this whole thing will blow over.”

I had the feeling that wasn’t true. This didn’t seem like the type of thing that would just blow over. In fact, it was beginning to sound like the kind of thing that was going to haunt my family for the rest of our lives. Biting my lip, I forced myself to ask the questions I was dreading. “What happened, Logan? What did you do?”

“Madeline, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t tell me not to worry about it! This is serious! Someone wants you dead! You need to—” But before I could tell my brother just what it was that he needed to do, the line went dead. There was a click and a moment later I heard a dial tone. My brother had just hung up on me, leaving me worried and more confused than ever.

He’d told me to go into hiding, but I didn’t even know how to start to do something like that! Where would I go? What would I live off of? And what about the baby?

My gut told me things were wrong. So wrong that I wasn’t sure they could be fixed. I knew that, whatever my brother had done, the only options were going to the police or trying to reason with Nikolai. I thought of Nikolai and his tall, masculine form. Of his bulging muscles and his sharp, piercing eyes. The kind of eyes you could get lost in. He was a solid man and I knew he was the kind of person who was used to getting his way.

No, reasoning with him about this was out of the question. He had his sights set on Logan, and I didn’t think there was any way to get him to back down now.

And Logan wouldn’t go to the police. I was left with no options—at least, no good ones. And that wasn’t even including what the heck I was supposed to do about the baby! How could I go on the run while I was pregnant? And when Nikolai found out I’d left, would he come after me? Would he be furious, dangerous even?

I didn’t think so, but how could I know for sure? He was a hit man and he was after my brother. I could be the collateral damage that he just didn’t care about in the end.

Exhausted, terrified, and not knowing what to do, I crawled back into bed and put my head down on the pillow. Grabbing the covers, I yanked them up over my head, wishing I could shut the rest of the world out just for a moment.

What was I going to do?

Chapter 22

Nikolai

My search for Logan wasn’t going so well. I had called Peter already, but he hadn’t seen anything since that night. In fact, he explained that the cops had stopped by and asked all sorts of questions. They’d canvased the place for witnesses, trying to ID the shooter, but no one was talking. That wasn’t a surprise either. Peter had managed to shoo most of the people who were still in the bar when I was about to tag Logan. Those who had lingered—like those women in the bathroom for instance—had been too drunk to really even remember what had happened, much less anything about me.

I was in the clear as far as the commotion was concerned, but that didn’t really do me any good beyond making sure I could still move freely. But then, that had never been an issue either. I had contacts in the police department who would have made that little problem disappear long before any court date or arraignment was ever set.

Still, I was grateful that Peter was putting in the time and effort. It made my job easier.

I was disappointed that he didn’t have more, though.

“What about the partner?” I asked him as we spoke over the phone. I was back at my apartment, getting showered and dressed—taking care of the hardness that had grown beneath my pants after my little encounter with Madeline—as I spoke to him, trying to dig up some leads.

He made a sound in his throat, like maybe he didn’t care for all this garbage. Really, he probably didn’t. Peter was one of those guys who, while in deep with people like Mickey, really just wanted to be left alone. He dealt with Mickey—and me by extension—because he had to, because this was Mickey’s city, or this section of it was, anyway, and he understood that to do anything successfully, you had to have some connection with Mickey. It wasn’t that Peter disliked the older man, but he just didn’t have a taste for some of the more illicit activities he dealt with.

And me? Well, we had a complicated relationship in which he acknowledged that what I did was a necessary evil. We were tentative friends, both of us acknowledging that, despite our differences, we enjoyed the basic company of the other.

“I don’t know what happened to the little trash,” Peter admitted. “He must have slipped out while I was still trying to get people out the door. Then the alarm went off.” Peter didn’t sound too pleased with that. “Anyway. By the time I got to that table, no one was sitting at it.”

That was disappointing. I had really hoped Peter would have something on the partner so I could put more effort into finding him. I thought Mickey might have some info, but all he could say was that they’d allowed Logan to bring in some other guys to help with the work. In the end, those other guys either didn’t show or didn’t hang around for the heist. Only this one man showed up, an accomplice to Logan’s foolish crime. Mickey didn’t have a name yet; I was hoping Peter did.

“So you don’t have anything?” I tried not to sound annoyed, but I probably did anyway. I hoped vaguely that Peter wouldn’t take it personally. It was easier to deal with people when they weren’t angry with you.

There was a pause, then Peter said, “Well, I might have something. It’s not a lot, but—”

“What is it?” Hope grew suddenly in my chest. All I needed was a name, a number, a car color. Just something to go on.

“Well, that jerk was flirting with one of my girls.” Peter called all of his waitresses his ‘girls.’ Although maybe it was one of those insulting things for women of this day and age, I could never tell myself, he meant it affectionately. He hired the prettiest dang women he could find, young and flirty, because he wanted the customers to like them. But he wouldn’t let a single finger touch them if they didn’t want it. Peter was fiercely protective to the point where he’d started fights and kicked people out without answer or explanation. I appreciated that about him. “He was a little prick and I warned the girl off, but you know the rules. If they want it, it’s on them.” I could almost hear him shrug.

“And?” I prompted.

“Didn’t really think anything of it,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Figured she just wanted a better tip, that she was flirting and he wouldn’t take her seriously anyway, you know? Most of the guys come here knowing that the girls don’t really want them.”

I nodded impatiently as I grabbed a shirt out of my closet—a black button- down, silky to the touch. He couldn’t see me, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to explain why I was so on edge these days. “What’re you getting at, Pete?”

“I’m trying to say he slipped her a napkin. She normally doesn’t keep trash like that, but for whatever reason she snuck it in her apron and forgot about it. Pulled it out today before her shift started.”

“And what was on that napkin?”

“A name and a number.”

***

That little napkin was a proverbial jackpot. From what I understood from Peter, he’d had to wrestle it away from his girl after the fact. It wasn’t that she probably really wanted it, but rather the fact that he was insisting she give it up that had her so annoyed. Peter was sort of like an overbearing father sometimes to his girls, and every so often they rebelled against him for it.

He won out, though, and if I had to guess, I would say that he told her a slice of the truth about the guy: he was into some bad trash and he was probably going to die very soon.

When I got there—because I didn’t just want the napkin, I wanted to talk to the girl, too—I greeted Peter and asked his permission to talk to her. Apparently, her name was Kendall. He was hesitant, but gave the okay. I knew he’d be watching like a hawk, but it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t going to do anything unsavory to the girl; I just wanted answers.

“You mind if I ask you a few things about the other night?”

She eyed me suspiciously. “You a cop?”

I almost laughed at her, but held it back just barely. Instead, I offered a smile that was probably a little wolfish. She shrank back just slightly into her seat. “No, I’m not. Though I am trying to make sure certain…bad guys stay off the streets. Think you can help?”

She thought about it. “Will I have to testify or something? Do crazy stuff for the police? Get involved?”

I shook my head. Clearly, Kendall had had some unfortunate dealings with the police before, because she looked pretty nervous at first. At my answer, however, she seemed to relax slightly. “I just want to know what he said to you.”

“Okay,” she said, still hesitant, but not seeming near as nervous as when I first approached her. “Well, I was their waitress—there were two guys at the table. They were kind of rowdy, celebrating something.”

“Do you know what?”

She lifted her petite shoulders in a shrug, pushing her breasts together so they looked like they might pop out of her shirt at any moment. She was cute, if a little young—I’d be surprised if she were actually twenty-one, if I was being honest—and almost reminded me of Madeline. She had an almost wholesome look about her, though it was destroyed by the heavy eyeliner and mascara. “Something about a windfall, you know? Lots of money coming in. That was how that guy was trying to pick me up.”

“By telling you they were rich?” I prompted.

She nodded. “Yeah, like I’d believe that. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

Not quite, but almost. I didn’t tell her that however. “You didn’t buy it?”

“No way.” She shook her head. “They looked like total shmucks. Old jeans, dirty shirts. Looked like they were in construction or something. But they had enough to pay, so I made a point to be nice.” She shrugged again.

“What were their names?”

“I don’t know about the blond guy—blondes aren’t really my thing—but the brunette said his name was Joshua. I never got a last name.”

Joshua. Well, it wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was something. I could check it against other people Logan was known to have worked with over the years. Maybe something would come up. And if that number were real, it would be a big help.

I smiled warmly at the girl. “Thank you, Kendall. That was very helpful.” I got up to leave, then paused, considering her. She did remind me of Madeline. I frowned. “Do yourself a favor, Kendall. If you see that guy again, stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

She shuddered and I remembered Peter had already told her much the same. Without saying a word of protest, she nodded. I got the napkin with the name and number form Peter, then thanked him and left. Hopefully, I would finally get somewhere with all of this.

***

As it turned out, the number was a bit of a bust. Clearly, this Joshua guy had hoped to take her home that night without the muss and fuss of calling or being called later. Already I didn’t like the guy. Though I never intended to have a permanent relationship, I had also never led a woman on to believe there was a chance for that.

What about Madeline? I thought before I could stop it.

I shook my head. I had never meant to do anything along those lines with Madeline. The whole thing had been a bit of a mistake—even though I couldn’t really bring myself to feel regret for it.

I did get some information about Joshua, though. He had a rap sheet with the police already. Petty things, mostly. Shoplifting, breaking and entering, though nothing with the families at home. There weren’t any violent crimes on there, though there was a pending charge of grand theft auto. I wondered if he’d actually show up for that one. Really, I was surprised he’d made bail at all.

Unfortunately, the report didn’t give me anything to go on. The address was a phony, the residents of the place never even hearing of a Joshua, and from there the thing dead-ended.

It was frustrating to say the least.

I was about to go back to Peter to see if there was something I might have missed, when I got a call from a friend of mine. Sergei worked for Zackary, but he occasionally helped out the other two Wise Guys for the right price. Zackary was generous with his personnel—so long as he liked you. I was lucky; he liked me.

Sergei was one of those guys who looked squeaky clean from the outside and was probably the dirtiest rat out there if you knew him from the inside. He worked for security companies and had never been arrested for anything in his life. No one had even gone sniffing around him, which was impressive when he happened to be the guy who got a very well protected man killed when Zackary asked him to.

Today, I was surprised to get a call from him. It was a good surprise, though; I definitely wasn’t complaining.

“Sergei, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

I heard the grin in Sergei’s voice as he answered, “I heard you’re having a little trouble with a job. Finding someone?”

I rolled my eyes. Sergei was a good man. I even liked him, but he was cocky and liked to rib me whenever he got the chance. “I’ll find him eventually. I’m still following up on leads.” My pride made me sound like I had some hope of finding Logan, when really, I didn’t have a clue anymore. Just a red truck, a name, and a moronic partner.

“Oh, really? Well, then I guess you don’t need a GPS trace on that pretty red truck of his, do you?” I could hear the sparkling tone of Sergei’s voice and it might have irritated me, but I was so thrilled to hear the words that I didn’t care. I wanted this job over with and was getting more and more impatient the longer it dragged out.

“You’re a genius, Sergei. Genius.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years!” he answered with a laugh.

“Do you know where it is now?” I asked him, eager to get started, to catch up.

“Yeah, he’s heading east on the highway right now. Closest thing I can tell around there, given the direction he’s moving, is a small town about two hundred or so miles. Take him about an hour to get there if the speed stays consistent.”

He rattled off the name of the town and I thanked him. I told him to keep tracking the truck, to let me know if anything changed or if they stopped. Eagerness and excitement raced through me. I was finally close. Logan was within my grasp and I would finally be done with this. After he was taken care of, I could figure out what I was going to do with Madeline. I could work on convincing her that she was mine, that I would be the one to take care of that baby, and when she understood that, she could admit to me and herself that the baby was mine.

I knew she was lying; there was no other explanation.

Holstering my gun in my shoulder harness, I slipped into my car. It was time to find Logan and end him once and for all.

Chapter 23

Madeline

A loud sound startled me awake. At first, I couldn’t make out what it was, but after a moment I realized there was a stream of light peeking through the door and sliding across the hardwood floors of my apartment. I hadn’t bothered to close the curtain that separated my impromptu bedroom from the rest of the place, so I could see clearly now that the reason there was unexpected light was that my door was open.

Panic swept me.

After the last few days, I’d realized there were very bad people out there. People who killed for money and maybe for fun. People who didn’t care about wrecking lives, so long as they got what they wanted.

What if this was one of those people now? I shuddered at the thought and tried to come up with a plan as to what I should do as I lay there huddled up in bed beneath the covers. I didn’t want to move in case whoever was there was just looking for stuff to steal—they’d quickly realize that my apartment had nothing of value and leave, I figured, so I’d be safer just pretending to be asleep. But as a shadow crossed over that sudden light, moving towards me, I realized they were definitely not looking for something to steal. No, in fact, they were headed straight for me.

My stomach clenched with panic and indecision. What should I do? Jump up and try to make a run for it? I heard the clomping of footsteps as whoever it was came closer and closer. Should I grab my bedside lamp or the clock and try to fight him off? He was getting closer and now I could hear almost ragged breathing.

Finally, I had decided that I would wait for him to move around to the other side of the bed, still hoping he was trying to look for stuff to steal, and then I would make a run for it. The door was still open, so maybe I could get to it and run screaming down the halls. If I attracted enough attention from my neighbors, maybe one of them would open the door and let me in, or at the very least call the cops.

I waited, pretending to be asleep. I forced my breathing to be even, though my heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest. My muscles tensed and tried to cramp as I forced them to lie still, even though all I wanted to do was run.

Finally, he was getting close. He’d reached the edge of the bed—I couldn’t see him, but his shadow was long and the footsteps were heavy. I waited with baited breath to see if he would round the corner towards the closet, but he didn’t. A second later I felt his shadow cross over me completely, could hear him breathing much too near, and knew he was standing, hovering right over me as I lay in my bed.

My plan was shot down. He was on the wrong side of the bed and if I tried to run, he’d surely grab me. I’d have to fight him. I steeled myself as I prepared to make a grab for the lamp and hit him over the head with it. But before I got the chance, I felt his hands wrap around my upper arms and shake me awake. At the same time, he said, “Madeline? Wake up. We need to go.”

My eyes jerked open in surprise as I recognized whose voice that was. “Shawn? Oh, my goodness! You scared me half to death! I thought you were a burglar or a rapist or something.”

I thought maybe he’d laugh or tell me I was paranoid, but his gaze remained serious, worried. I thought there was a hint of fear behind his brown eyes and it sent a shiver of panic down through me again.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing over at the clock at my bedside table. It was nearly three in the morning; he shouldn’t be here.

“We’ve got to go,” he told me again, and for the first time I realized that he didn’t look quite right. I reached over for the bedside table, fumbling for the lamp switch, then flicked it on once I’d found it. I gasped at what I saw.

There were scattered bruises marking Shawn’s jaw and neck, as though someone had wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed. Maybe even tried to strangle him to death! “Oh goodness! What happened?”

His eyes were definitely filled with fear, I decided, and he was agitated, fidgety. Like he couldn’t sit still for fear of something finding him if he stayed in one spot for too long. He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly sure someone was behind him. He seemed to search my bare, tiny apartment for a full minute before turning back to me. “Do you know what’s going on with your brother?” he asked me instead of answering my question.

I blinked at him in surprise. “How do you know?”

He looked away guiltily, scratching at the back of his head. “Logan, uh, well, he asked me for help.”

I frowned at him. Help? When had they talked? I’d only just found out about what was going on! But then, I was Logan’s sister, not his friend and while Shawn had always been my best friend, we’d all spent a lot of time together. And in high school, Logan had gotten Shawn to do a lot of reckless, crazy stuff. I shouldn’t have been so surprised that he would have confided in him before me.

Especially if he’s done something wrong, I thought before I could stop myself.

Shaking my head, I said, “Did he tell you everything?” I wondered if he’d mentioned Nikolai.

For a moment, Shawn’s face was strangely blank. It was almost as though he were trying to wipe it clean so I wouldn’t be able to read his face and know what was really going on. But that was ridiculous; this was Shawn. He told me everything. But then I reminded myself that he probably thought the same thing of me, but wasn’t I keeping things from him?

The moment passed and Shawn finally answered me. “He told me enough. Enough to know that there’s some maniac out to get him. That Nikolai guy.”

I bit my lip. Falling asleep had given me a reprieve from all this crazy stuff and I’d been so grateful for it. Now that I was awake again, it all came crashing back. How my brother had told me to go into hiding. How Nikolai had looked so angry. How I had a terrible feeling that my brother really had done something awful—maybe even what Nikolai had accused him of.

Sleep had given me some rest and a break from all of it, but it hadn’t given me answers.

Before I could start to panic about what I would do, however, Shawn continued. “He’s crazy, Madeline. Crazy!” He grabbed me by the shoulders harshly and shook. It scared me a little bit and I found myself recoiling. He seemed to get a hold of himself, though, and released my arms with a quick apology. “Sorry, I just need you to know how bad things are. That you’re in danger.”

I winced a little. Things were bad, but I wanted to tell him they were bad for Logan. Yes, I was his sister and whatever he’d done had clearly pissed off the wrong people, but I wanted to tell Shawn that Nikolai wasn’t after me. I didn’t have anything to do with it and, in all honesty, I was certain that Nikolai, while he didn’t want anything more to do with me now thanks to my lie, wouldn’t come after me. Not even to get to Logan.

“We’ve got to get out of here. I ran into Nikolai—look what he did to me!” He gestured towards his neck and my eyes widened in horror.

Nikolai had done that? A sudden chill ran through me and I hugged myself. Although I knew he was a hit man, some part of me had been convinced he was somehow…not violent. It was stupid and naïve, but I wanted to believe he was some sort of noble bringer of justice. Seeing those bruises on Shawn’s face brought the truth crashing down around me.

He was nothing more than a terrible, murdering, violent man.

“He demanded to know where your brother was, but, Madeline, I wouldn’t tell him. I swear I wouldn’t! He was so angry, but I held my ground!” Shawn was speaking quickly, his eyes alight, his face flushed. “He told me he’d be back, that I had one more chance and when he was back I’d better tell him where Logan was, or I’d be dead.” He hesitated, looked me over in a strange way, then finally said the rest of his story. “He told me I had a chance to walk away from this, but Logan’s fate was sealed—and so was yours.”

My eyes widened in shock. What?

“What…what are you talking about?” I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

“I’m saying,” he said impatiently, sounding almost annoyed with me, “that once Nikolai kills your brother, he’s going to kill you, too.”

I couldn’t believe it. I sat there staring at him, shock making me still even as my mind raced. Would Nikolai do that? No, was my immediate answer. Of course he wouldn’t. In fact, he had said earlier that I was his—he wouldn’t kill someone he believed belonged to him, would he? I didn’t think so, but then, I had told him that the baby wasn’t his. Was that enough to push him over the edge and decide I was better off dead?

A shudder raced through me.

Shawn got up from the bed and began moving around my room quickly. His eyes were wild with fright as he grabbed my suitcase from under my bed. He didn’t even look over at me as he began to grab random things out of my closet—dresses, pants, t-shirts, it didn’t matter, they all went in the same—as he said, “We’ve got to get out of here before he comes back.” He moved to my dresser and began riffling through my panties. I would have been offended, outraged even, except he wasn’t even seeing what he was doing. He was moving automatically, flinching at every sound, glancing over his shoulder in paranoia over and over again, as though expecting Nikolai to appear out of nowhere like a ghost or a vampire.

I didn’t want to believe Nikolai would harm me. I didn’t believe it, but seeing Shawn so afraid…well, that didn’t come from nowhere. And the bruises…Worst of all, I already knew for certain that Shawn was right about at least one thing: Nikolai was trying to kill Logan. That fact and Shawn’s fear leant him some credibility, not to mention the fact that we’d been friends for ages.

So I got myself out of bed and helped him pack. I threw on some clothes—I closed the curtain and made Shawn wait on the other side of it—and then together we made for the door. Part of me felt the sense that I was doing something reckless, probably stupid, but I couldn’t say why. In that moment, it was the only option that still made sense.

What else could I do?

We got into his car and Shawn drove. He took the first ramp onto the highway and drove east. I didn’t know the area well enough to know exactly where we were going. Though I’d been in the city for a while, mostly I just went to the college, a few coffee shops, then back to my apartment.

Turning to Shawn, who was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, I asked, “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer right away, just kept glancing in the rearview mirror as though Nikolai was right on our tail already. After a moment, he said, “A safe place. Somewhere that crazy Nikolai guy won’t come looking for us.”

I frowned and we both fell silent. I still wasn’t sure what to think. Some part of me just couldn’t believe Nikolai would want to kill me.

The rest of me remembered that he was a contract killer. Why wouldn’t he kill me?

Chapter 24

Nikolai

I arrived in Madison just over an hour later. I had to stop for gas, which was as good a time as any to pause for a plan and for an update from Sergei. If I were finally going to nail Logan, I would have to be clever about it. Hopefully, the money would be there in whatever hotel they were staying at—maybe even in the truck, though I wouldn’t count on it; surely even he wasn’t that stupid—but if it weren’t, I was going to have to keep Logan alive long enough to make him talk. Alternatively, if his friend were there with him, this would be easier as I could keep one of them alive while killing the other. People, I had found, were more interested in talking once they were presented with a less appealing option right in front of their faces. Like dying. Seeing someone die sobered people right up.

I pulled into a gas station, set the pump, and pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Sergei and waited only two rings before he picked up.

“Are you there yet?” he asked impatiently, his voice hushed. He wasn’t likely to get caught for giving people information that might kill a man, but you could never be too careful.

“Yes, I just got into town. Is he still moving?”

There was a pause, then, “No. He’s stopped now. I checked it out and got a solid location. It’s some cheap rear motel towards the shoddier side of town. I called over there and they confirmed that there’s a red truck parked outside.”

I nodded to myself. So, he was here. I was so close now. This job should have been simple, a quick game of catch and kill, but over the past couple of months Logan had managed to elude me. Despite being what I considered an idiot, he was just lucky enough—I refused to think he was truly clever enough—to slip my grasp every time.

Well, not this time. Finally, I had my opportunity. I would go to the motel, but lie low. Case the place first. Maybe see if his friend was there. Then I would separate the two. If I could get one of them alone, I could tie him up and kill the other. I doubted there was enough loyalty between the two to threaten one into giving up the money in exchange for a friend’s life. They didn’t seem like the sentimental, bleeding heart types. But if one saw me kill the other, he’d be much more forthcoming. I was sure of it.

“All right,” I finally said as the plan began to solidify in my head. I was a step ahead since they didn’t know I was coming, that I was here. Heck, they didn’t even know that I had a means of finding them. But if I were stupid about this, they’d get skittish and bolt. I had to be careful, clever about the whole thing. I had to be smarter than they were. “I’m going to head over there, see if I can get a good look of the place. Maybe disable the truck before they have a chance to make a break for it.”

Now that I’d thought of it, that sounded like an excellent plan. I was tired of the chase; now, I wanted them finished.

“Watch yourself, Nikolai,” Sergei said cheerfully, but the fact that he told me to be careful at all spoke volumes about how he felt about the whole thing. He was feeling a little apprehensive, which was odd.

“Is there something else?” I prompted. It was unlike Sergei to be nervous.

He hesitated, but then told me, “I can’t guarantee that the partner was in the truck, you know? Or that either of them’s in the truck, honestly. Could be a plant, a set up. I know you’ve been having trouble with these guys and, well, maybe they’re smarter than we give them credit for.”

I doubted it. Sincerely doubted it. Yes, this job had been somewhat difficult, but that was because these rats were good at hiding and had miraculously good luck on their side. It didn’t mean that they were smart, only that at some point along the way they’d earned some karma points.

Not enough to save them, I thought.

Even so, I respected Sergei and his opinion. If he felt something seemed off about what was going on, the situation, then I was willing to think it through. Pausing, I considered what could go wrong.

They could know I was coming. This was pretty unlikely given that it would mean someone loyal to Zackary would have to know about Sergei—which was admittedly possible—and then they’d have to betray Zackary by telling one of these idiots. That was so impossible that it might as well be a nonexistent possibility altogether.

They could be prepared for the possibility of me coming. This was a little bit more likely. Maybe they were finally using an ounce of their brain, deciding that since I’d clearly found them once, I had the capabilities to find them again. So, while they had no proof that I might be there, they knew that there was a chance I could be. That was how I would think about things, though I considered myself far smarter than this Logan guy. His sister—my sweet, pregnant, sexy Madeline—seemed to have inherited all the brains in her family. Still, even if they did know, I didn’t think it was a problem. So long as I was cautious, maybe waiting until dark? Parking around in the back? Maybe even parking in the woods somewhere and walking the rest of the way to the hotel. No matter which way I chose, I could be cautious enough to throw them.

Beyond that, I couldn’t come up with a reasonable scenario in which these men might put me in serious danger. I just couldn’t see them getting the drop on me, so I told Sergei, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

“All right. Well, if you don’t need anything else from me, I actually do have work to do.”

I rolled my eyes just as the gas finished pumping into my car. Vaguely, I found myself wishing I had a truck. That would make things simpler out here in a place that was far less cultivated than a city. “Yes, sure, you get back to stacking sticky notes and balancing paperclips at that desk job of yours.”

“Hey! Don’t knock the importance of balancing paperclips. It’s all about making sure the world keeps on turning.”

“Goodbye, Sergei. And thank you for your help.”

“Best of luck, Nicky, dearest.”

With that, he hung up before I got the chance to chew his rear for calling me Nicky. I hated that. Hanging up the pump again, I replaced the gas cap and got back behind the wheel. For just a moment longer, I paused. My phone beeped, informing me that I had a message. Sergei had texted me the details of the motel. It was called the Market Town Inn and after a quick search, I found even the best pictures of it revealed something that looked just shy of being condemned.

Not where I would stay, on the run or not, I thought. But they weren’t me and it seemed like they were trying to save on money, which seemed odd given they’d stolen so much. Or maybe they really were trying to be smart and attempting to lay low.

I doubted it. If anything, it was out of habit.

I started the car and took off, heading down the bumpy, poorly maintained road with thick trees lined the sides of it. It took me maybe another ten or fifteen minutes before I came upon the motel. It was in pretty rough shape, worse even than the pictures, but I noticed a shiny red truck parked outside of it and knew I had reached the correct location.

Taking precautions as Sergei suggested, I went past the motel and found a boarded-up building just a half a mile up the road. Not far at all. It looked like it might have been some sort of market at some point, but was long since closed down. It looked half rotted at this point and I wondered if there was a blasted thing in Madison that wasn’t grungy and falling apart. Probably not.

Parking my car behind the building for some cover and as close to the trees as possible, I got out. I checked my gun—loaded, safety off—then replaced it into my shoulder holster. From there, I walked.

It took me another ten or fifteen minutes to walk back to the motel, mostly because I was picking my way through the trees lining the road, hoping to stay at least half hidden. If I were lucky, no one would even notice me. When I finally broke through to find the motel and the red truck in front of it, I felt relieved. I’d been worried that he would be gone again before I returned.

But no, the truck was still there. My eyes scanned the area, searching for the owner of said truck, but the place seemed practically deserted. There was one other car in the entire lot, and it looked like it belonged to whoever was manning the front desk rather than another customer.

Eventually, my gaze landed on the truck again. No movement. It seemed empty. The thought crossed my mind that Logan could be crouched down, hiding there instead of in whatever room he’d booked for the night. But I dismissed it right away. Not a chance.

Deciding to go in for a closer look, I walked up to the truck. When I was close enough to see inside the window, I frowned. Definitely no one in there. The truck was a mess. While it was still shiny on the outside, though dented, there was trash littered everywhere: old wrappers from fast food sandwiches, the bags they came in, empty drink cups. It looked like someone had gotten into a bag of sunflower seeds and just spit them out again all over the floorboards and across the seats. In a word, it was disgusting.

But that really wasn’t important to me, regardless of my personal opinions on the matter. What mattered was that the truck was empty. My eyes narrowed. Empty, but the keys were still right there, hanging from the ignition.

What kind of idiot leaves the keys in the ignition with no one in the truck? I thought to myself.

My opinion of Logan and his crackerjack friend was dropping even lower. I sighed. Surely, if the keys were in there, then the money was not. I was about to go into the lobby and talk to whatever poor soul was stuck behind the front desk when a thought finally occurred to me. It was enough to make me freeze right there in my tracks.

No one leaves the keys in the car of their vehicle, especially when it’s such an important means of escape. When you’re on the run, that vehicle is your only means of surviving. Even these two knuckleheads couldn’t be that stupid.

So why would they be there?

“If they were about to leave when I showed up,” I muttered out loud.

Taking shallow breaths and straining my ears, I listened to the sounds around me. It was quiet. The road was right there, but this town seemed pretty dead for the most part and I was fairly certain at this point that there just wasn’t much traffic. From the woods, I heard the chirping sounds of birds and crickets. It was all very quiet and yet…not right.

The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle as I sensed, more than saw, that something was out of place. I wasn’t sure what it was, until he came at me from behind.

A heavy weight barreled into me as two long, gangly arms wrapped around my upper arms to keep me from immediately using them to fight back. Though thin, the arms were surprisingly strong, the muscles lean, but powerful.

He took me to the ground, the heavy weight that I now knew was a man on top of me. I struggled, but just as I managed to shift him to the side, rolling us both over, he began to beat me about the head and shoulders. His fists weren’t as accurate as they might have been, but in his frantic flailing there was power. I felt his hand connect with my jaw, leaving what was sure to be a bruise later and causing my lip to split open. Instantly, I tasted coppery blood.

It was difficult given my position on the ground with him on my back, but I found a way to take a swing at him. It connected with his shoulder and he let out a grunt, but I couldn’t get a good shot at his face. In fact, I couldn’t even make out his face. I struggled, trying to push him off, lifting and flexing my shoulders in an attempt to break his hold on me, but he held on doggedly. It was as though he sensed that his life hung in the balance. If he let me go, he was a dead man.

Forcing us to roll, so I could get him on his back, I tried again to break free, this time elbowing him hard in the ribs. He let out a harsh whoosh of air as my elbow made contact and it was enough for me to jerk free of his hold. I might have had enough time to pull my gun, or at the very least round on him and get a good hit in to his face, but he was ready for me. He swung his leg out, catching me at the knees and causing me to buckle back to the ground unexpectedly. I used my hands to catch my weight, but the pause was enough time to let him up. I saw his brown, scuffed work boots right as they came at my face.

They crunched against my nose. My eyesight grew dark around the edges as I struggled for consciousness and breath, but it was useless. My head snapped back from the force of the blow and I fell to the ground once more. I didn’t know who my assailant was, but I could guess. And if I was right, then this was it. My last moments. I was dead.

As I drifted away to darkness, I had a strange, errant thought. It was of Madeline, smiling at me, biting her lip, opening herself up for me. It was of her hands on her bare stomach as she smiled shyly.

I wish I could see my baby born before dying.

And then, I was gone.

Chapter 25

Madeline

We drove for a long while, through the rest of the very early morning and then later still. At first, I thought Shawn had a really good idea of where he was going. Like he already had a destination in mind, but after I was really awake, I started paying attention to signs. We’d stay on the interstate for a while only to get off downtown. Then we’d drive in and out of the streets there before taking the next exit once more onto the freeway. After a couple of hours, I was beginning to realize he was just driving blindly.

Every so often, we would stop for gas, which was good. Morning sickness had made my stomach queasy, and I needed to use the restroom to throw up at least four or five different times. It also gave me the chance to have a moment’s privacy.

Maybe it was just paranoia after everything that was happening and going on in my life, or maybe it was the hormones from the pregnancy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Shawn was being…weird. Yes, scared of Nikolai and what was going on with Logan, but it was something more, too. Something I’d actually begun to notice before all of this mess had begun.

Shawn had been my best friend for practically our whole lives. He was the shoulder to cry on, the buddy to hang out with, the guy who wasn’t just a jerk, but understanding and sympathetic. I’d never known him to be mean, but lately things seemed to have somehow shifted. He was on edge more often, like something serious was on his mind, but I just couldn’t figure out what and he didn’t want to tell me. He seemed more likely to get annoyed with me, to snap even, something he’d never done before. I wondered if maybe it was the city making him all weird, but that didn’t seem right. The other day, when he confessed that he was in love with me, I started to think that maybe it was that. Maybe he was just tired of being ignored as a viable option romantically?

But he isn’t a viable option, a little voice in the back of my head whispered. I tried to shake it away and splashed some water onto my pale, slightly green face. This morning sickness was really getting to me.

I frowned. I should be lucky to have someone like Shawn. After all, wasn’t he here, knowing I was pregnant and would only be marrying him—assuming that was still my plan, though I wasn’t sure anymore that I could do it—for the sake of a baby that was someone else’s? And hadn’t he come to get me instead of just running off to save himself, just because he knew I was in danger?

How could I not want him?

And yet, still, I didn’t. In fact, I found myself sometimes not even liking him lately. I told myself it was my hormones and that I was being oversensitive, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that Shawn was no longer the boy I had been best friends with for so long.

Taking a steady breath, I dried off my face, ignoring the purple bruise-like marks from lack of sleep just beneath my eyes, and unlocked the door to the bathroom. Time to get to it. And time to ask Shawn where we were going.

When I walked out, he was standing by the car filling it up with gas. He was talking on his cell phone, pacing. As he ran a hand through his hair, I noticed that he looked agitated. Which wasn’t really unusual given that he’d looked agitated for all of this morning now, but I got the feeling he wasn’t happy about whatever conversation he was having with the person on the other end of that phone.

Biting my lip, I thought about trying to get close enough to eavesdrop, maybe figure out what was going on. A second later, though, I felt stupid, childish. What a ridiculous thing to do! If I wanted to know what was going on, all I had to do was ask him. Regardless of how emotional I’d been or how on edge he was, we were still best friends.

Still, I hung back a little, watching him for a few moments longer. Shawn finally stopped, saying something animatedly to whoever was on the other end. He let out a sigh, then nodded. He must have agreed to something that the caller had said, though I couldn’t hear anything and was worried about getting closer for reasons that I couldn’t place.

Finally, he pulled the phone away from his face and shoved it into his pocket. He ran a hand through his hair once more, then went back to the car. He pulled out the pump and replaced it, screwing the gas cap back on.

I decided it was time to head over to him, before he noticed me and asked what I was doing. Forcing a smile, I asked him, “Shawn? Do you know where we’re going?”

He jumped a little at my voice, like he was surprised I was there. For a moment, he looked really nervous about something, but then it passed. He forced a smile and nodded, “Yeah. I do. It’s only about an hour from here and if we go now, we’ll get there long before dinner.”

A weird feeling crawled up my spine, but I nodded anyway. “Okay, let’s go.”

We climbed back into the car. He didn’t tell me anything specific about where we were headed and I didn’t mention to him that I’d been standing there while he was on his phone, trying to listen in to his conversation.

***

The place was a dump. A complete wreck. I’d been in some less than perfect places before—hell, my little studio apartment was shoddy at best and it was in a bad part of town—but this place took the cake. Even by my low, low standards, it looked awful.

There was a sign out front that said the Market Town Inn and there was a neon sign below it that was supposed to say whether or not there were any vacancies, but the “no” part of the sign kept flickering, so I really couldn’t tell if there were or weren’t.

“We’re staying here?” I asked Shawn as he pulled in to the parking lot. I felt bad instantly, not wanting to sound like one of those prissy, high maintenance girls, but I just couldn’t help it. This looked like the kind of place you went in a horror movie to get killed by a serial killer.

Shawn shot me an annoyed look, but seemed to forcibly smooth out his features a second later. He offered a smile as he said, “I know, it looks like a little pile of trash, but I promise, it’s a good place to stay.”

I was about to open my mouth and protest. There were probably bugs in the bed, holes in the wall, and all kinds of diseases in the bathroom. But then Shawn pulled up next to a parked red truck that I recognized instantly.

“Oh, my goodness, Logan!”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Shawn grin. “See? Told you.”

I blinked, glancing from the truck to Shawn and back to the truck again. I was overcome with relief. My brother was here and alive! That must have been who Shawn was talking to on the phone at the gas station! Logan was probably calling to tell him for us to come and join him. For a second, I was just so happy that I leaned over and threw my arms around Shawn, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He was momentarily surprised, but then I felt his hands reach for my waist and his head turn so his mouth was aimed for mine. I pulled back quickly, realizing my mistake instantly, but did my best to play it off as just excitement to see my brother. Which it was. Flashing a bright smile at Shawn, I quickly popped open the passenger door and hopped out, racing to the truck. “Logan?” I called eagerly. “Logan, where are you?”

I heard a door slam, and turned to see Shawn getting out and jogging over to me. I thought I heard him curse. “Would you shut up already?”

My eyes got wide as I looked at him. I didn’t think he’d ever told me to shut up before. “I just…” I just want to see my brother, I finished in my head.

He raked another hand through his hair. “Sorry. It’s just, we’re kinda in hiding, you know?”

I bit my lip, feeling ashamed. I nodded.

He put his hand on the small of my back, pushing me away from the truck and towards the line of doors that marked the motel rooms. I almost squirmed away from his touch, not wanting his hand there, but decided that would be rude. Shawn didn’t mean anything by it.

We walked all the way to the end of the corridor to the lobby where a bored-looking attendant sat behind a small, rickety desk. There was a little squishy toy frog posted on the desk with a taped message saying, “Push me” on it instead of a bell and the inside of the lobby smelled like a weird mixture of fish and old feet. Definitely not a good smell. What was worse, they had one of those air freshener things in the room which spouted some awful, fruity tropical pineapple smell into the air, too, but not enough to cover up the bad smells.

It was enough to make my stomach roil, and I thought for a moment I was going to throw up again. It was only the knowledge that my brother was here somewhere and we’d only have to be in the lobby for a moment that kept me from racing to the nearest bathroom or outside. I wasn’t about to be picky.

“Excuse me, sir?” I asked, getting the attention of the brown-haired man behind the counter.

With lazy, annoyed eyes, he looked up at me. “What?”

Rude, I thought, but pushed it aside. I wanted to be nice to get this guy to be helpful. Smiling brightly at him, I asked, “Have you seen the owner of that red truck out there?” I pointed to where Logan’s truck was. “He’s a guest here and we’re supposed to meet him. Can you tell us where to go?”

The man let out a long, obnoxious sigh, like I’d just asked him to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and walk across the Sahara Desert or something. I really didn’t like him much, but I was trying so hard to stay calm and pleasant.

He turned to his ancient computer, which was actually so old it still had that black background with the green letters on it. I didn’t even think you could still use those. He typed something in and the computer beeped. He typed in something else. Then he waited and waited, staring at the screen with boredom written across his features. After what felt like eternity—I’d begun breathing through my mouth, but then imagined I could taste the fish and the feet smell, and that was so much worse—he finally turned to me and said, “One oh two. Opposite end of here. They go in reverse order.”

Then, without another word, he turned away from us, propped his feet up on the opposite counter, and flipped open a magazine like we weren’t even there at all.

I shared a look with Shawn who was staring at the man in disgust, then led the way out of that room and back to fresh air. As soon as the door closed behind us, I breathed in deep. Thank goodness.

Shawn pushed ahead and led the way to the room at the other end. We almost reached the door, excitement building inside me, but then Shawn began to slow, his pacing turning into little more than a crawl. I was getting impatient, so I moved to pass him, to race to the door, but his arm shot out and caught me before I could. I whirled around to look at him in surprise, my eyes wide.

“Wait,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes. He looked nervous about something. “Maybe we should just get our own room first, you know? Then we can call Logan and—”

I stared at him like he was crazy. My brother was right there! Mere feet away! And get our own room? Something in me shuddered at the thought, and it wasn’t in a good way. We’d had sleepovers before, slept in the same room, done the same things, spent whole days together before, but somehow things had changed. Now the idea of sharing a single room with Shawn seemed…well, not like a good idea.

I didn’t know why.

Focusing on my brother instead, I shook off Shawn’s grip and said, “Are you crazy? Logan is right through that door!”

Shawn opened his mouth to say something else, but I wasn’t listening. I raced for Logan’s door, banging on it impatiently as soon as I did. I heard Shawn mutter something but didn’t catch what it was. I didn’t care.

“Logan! It’s me! Open up!” I continued to pound.

Finally, the door jerked open and my brother was standing there, blonde hair and blue eyes. The same way he’d always looked. My brother, the one I knew. Not a criminal, not a murderer. Just my brother. I was about to rush into his arms, when I noticed the scowl on his face. My expression dropped.

He cursed, poking his head out of the door and looking around quickly. He spotted Shawn and glared at him. I noticed Shawn shrug out of the corner of my eye and wondered if maybe it hadn’t been Logan on the other end of the phone earlier that day after all.

When Logan seemed satisfied that it was only us, he reached out and grabbed me by the upper arms. I winced at his grip, his fingers digging in slightly to my flesh. He jerked me inside. Shawn was there a second later and then the door was closed behind the both of us. Logan released me with a shove.

I half stumbled, half fell onto the bed, surprised by the sudden release, my eyes wide. “Logan, what’s—?”

But he wasn’t listening. Interrupting, he demanded, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes were flashing, almost menacing, and for a second I thought I was completely wrong. This wasn’t my brother. This wasn’t the boy I’d grown up with. In fact, this was a complete and total stranger standing right in front of me. I felt tears prick behind my eyes at the thought, but I pushed them aside. I had to focus.

“We… we ran away,” I told him, glancing over at Shawn. “Because of…of Nikolai. You know, the guy who—”

But I didn’t have to explain. Logan paled the moment I mentioned Nikolai’s name, telling me he knew exactly who was after him. I frowned. How did Logan even know Nikolai’s name? And why was he so angry?

“Incredible,” Logan cursed, threading his hands through his hair and gripping it so tightly I was worried they’d pull back with blonde chunks clutched between the fingers.

My heart thumped, almost painfully. I stared at my brother, then glanced at Shawn. He was looking around the room, looking casual. Like maybe he knew something and didn’t want to talk about it.

I swallowed hard. Licking my suddenly too dry lips, I returned my attention to Logan. “What did you do, Logan?” I whispered, dread pooling in my gut. I worried he wouldn’t tell me. I worried he would.

Taking a shuddering breath, he looked over at me, aiming his gaze just a little off from my eyes. “You won’t have to worry about Nikolai anymore. None of us will.”

Chapter 26

Nikolai

The first thing I noticed was the ache. It was all over my body, beginning at my jaw and moving outwards in throbs that felt like blood trying too hard to pump through my system.

My head pounded, a splitting, blistering headache making it difficult for me to focus on anything else. For a moment, I just had to endure it, let it throb and pound and flood my system with awful, wracking pain. It was dreadful, to say the least.

The pain didn’t subside, but as I grew used to it, it became easier for me to focus. I began to attempt to figure out where I was, what was going on, and whether or not it was intelligent for me to move.

As I followed the catalogue of my aches, I found that my shoulders were sore as though I’d just come from the gym and worked until I tore muscle. My neck was in a similar state, stiff enough that I wasn’t thrilled with the thought of moving it. I left that still and alone for now, hoping it would ease out a bit with time. Traveling lower, I noticed my ribs were sore—I’d likely been kicked, perhaps when I was unconscious—and below that, I felt stiffness in my legs. They felt less as though someone had kicked them, however, and more as though they’d been left in a single, uncomfortable position for so long.

I hadn’t opened my eyes just yet. The pounding in my head, though slowly becoming more tolerable, cautioned against that and I definitely didn’t want to make it worse. I tried moving all of my limbs, making sure there was nothing too badly damaged, and found that everything seemed to more or less be working just fine. Maybe I didn’t feel great, but at least I wasn’t broken—or dead.

The thought raced through me, bringing the softest tinge of cold with it.

I was a hit man. I wasn’t afraid to die. But that didn’t mean I relished the idea. There were people out there who had a death wish, who stared it in the face, watched it and even waited for it, baited it until it came for them like a raging bull. But that wasn’t me. I liked this living thing.

Shaking off the thought of death—well, my death, anyway—I forced my eyes open. They felt grainy and a little rough, like I’d just gotten out of the ocean or been asleep for a day.

How long have I been unconscious?

As soon as the thought hit me, I snapped my eyes the rest of the way open, ignoring the pounding of my headache. I jerked myself up into a sitting position, realizing just how bad things could be.

“Incredible,” I said out loud, realizing that it was already dark out. The day had shifted, leaving me behind, and now Logan could be anywhere. Had he been the one to attack me? I had to assume so, though there was a chance it could have been someone else. His buddy, Joshua maybe, or even that jerk Shawn guy who was so interested in my Madeline.

I doubted that last one, but acknowledged that there was a possibility for it. I doubted he was involved with Logan and Joshua and their ill-planned heist, but there was a chance he’d followed me while I trailed Logan and tried to get rid of me.

Looking around, I took in my surroundings. It looked like I was in a ditch somewhere. Beneath me, the earth was moist, soft, not quite muddy, but not dry either. It smelled almost fresh, like rain had hit recently. Looking past the ditch, or up over the side of it anyway, from what I could see from my seated position, there was nothing but trees surrounding me.

I frowned. How far had Logan gone to dump me?

Struggling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my limbs and the dull throb of my ribs, not to mention the sharp jabbing pains in my head, I thought things through. Madison was heavily wooded, so there was a chance I was still in town. But if Logan—assuming, of course, he was the culprit—had half a brain in his head, he’d have gone at the very least to the edge of town. Far from him and his truck.

Or maybe he’s already moved on from Madison, I thought gravely.

I cursed again. I would have to call Sergei back and figure out if the truck was still there. I searched myself and found I no longer had my gun, nor my wallet. My phone was missing, too, which actually made me angrier than the rest. The gun was easy—I had another in my car, which I hadn’t parked at the motel, so it would be safe from whoever attacked me—and I had spare cash, IDs, and credit cards there, as well. But the phone? That was a direct line to Mickey and to Sergei. I wasn’t overly concerned that whoever had taken the phone would have the balls to call either of them, but I didn’t like the idea of not being able to get ahold of them.

Especially since I wanted to know where that truck was.

Sighing in exasperation, I resolved to climb out of the ditch and get a better idea of where I was. The earth was soft, making it difficult to climb, my feet and hands sinking into the moist dirt as I struggled. But eventually, I managed to get out. I found that, while trees had most definitely been directly next to me on one side, the other side was lined with road. At least I wouldn’t have to look for that.

I walked in a short circle, trying to get my bearings. It was more difficult with no sun to go by. Then I stopped when I saw the sign. Welcome to Madison.

The dipshit had dropped me outside of town, right along the side of the road and just outside a sign that would tell me exactly where I needed to go.

I had initially thought it was moronic for someone to leave me so close to Madison, right along a road, with a clear direction of where I needed to go. Then I realized that, though Madison was very small, it was spread out. And since it was so small, there wasn’t a blasted car on the road. I was headed in the general direction of my car, but I’d been walking for at least an hour now and it felt like I hadn’t made a blasted bit of progress. The only thing different about the scenery was that I could no longer see the sign letting me know I was entering Madison.

I hadn’t seen a single car in that whole time and I was starting to realize I was very far behind. Whoever had hit me—my money was still on Logan—was far ahead of me, and even if it weren’t Logan who had attacked me, there was no question that he would be long gone by the time I reached the motel again, much less by the time I got to my car and the gun I had stashed there.

I had about resigned myself to several more hours of walking, when I saw the lights flash. My first instinct, given that I’d just been attacked, was to run. And run fast. If I dove out of the way, maybe the driver wouldn’t see me. But then I made a quick decision: I didn’t care if they saw me. If they did and it was my attacker, then good. Maybe they’d come after me, get into a car accident, or drive off the road, or maybe just stop to try to finish me off. In that sort of a fight, I would win. They had gotten the drop on me before, but not this time.

Standing my ground, I stared at the car that came closer and closer. Car, I thought suddenly, not truck. So, it wasn’t Logan. Maybe his buddy, Joshua. Maybe Shawn. Maybe someone else entirely who just seemed to hate my guts for no reason. But not Logan.

The car slowed down, pulling towards the side of the road. After a moment, it stopped completely and the passenger side window began to roll down.

I bent forward to see who was inside and found a kindly, if slightly worn face staring back at me. He looked like some middle-aged man from the counter, that small town, open-faced look plastered across his almost dull seeming features. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was a farmer. “Well, hello there,” he greeted, his eyes widening slightly. “You look to be in quite a shape, young man!”

I glanced down at myself and for the first time really considered how I must look. I was covered in mud from the ditch, my clothing rumpled and even torn in spots, probably from the roll down into the ditch. My hair was likely wild, mussed, and probably dirty, too. I didn’t need to be told that my face likely was already starting to swell with bruises and probably was already beginning to discolor into sickly yellow and plum purple. Gingerly, I touched my lip, remembering that I’d bled there, too.

I must look like death warmed over, I thought.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to be calm and project a friendliness I wasn’t feeling. I wanted to hurt things, but I somehow doubted this small town man was interested in picking up someone like that. And I instantly had decided that I wanted a ride.

Quickest way into town.

“I, uh, had some issues with my car,” I said finally. Not even remotely the truth, but I couldn’t exactly explain what had really happened. “And unfortunately, I left my phone in the motel room where I’m staying. I could really use a ride there.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, showing wrinkles and spots of gray hair here and there. He considered me a moment longer, his eyes taking in my weathered appearance once more before answering me. “Well, I certainly can’t leave you like this. Where you staying?”

“The Market Town Inn.”

He smiled, then shook his head. “Well, heck, a good night’s sleep there probably won’t make you feel better, but it won’t make you worse.” He laughed at himself. “Probably looks about as bad as you do. But c’mon in. I’ll give you a lift. Headed that general way myself anyhow.”

I offered him a genuine smile, my first in a good while, and pulled open the passenger door. As I slid in, I said, “Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Not a problem, sir. Not a problem. Always happy to help.”

I doubted he would feel that way if he knew my profession, but it didn’t matter. I’d already decided I liked the man and would insist he drop me off at the sign before he reached the parking lot, just in case there was going to be trouble.

Chapter 27

Madeline

“What do you mean?” I asked and even I could hear the quiver in my voice. It was a tremble of fear, yes, but of anger, too. I could feel it building in my gut, this sense that everything was wrong. So very wrong. I had gotten things mixed up somehow, and now I was here, staring at my brother, looking at a man who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger to me. A complete stranger.

Logan shrugged, glancing over at Shawn as though confused. Like he could hear the anger lingering in my voice, but couldn’t understand what it was from. He turned back to look at me, then said, “Because he’s dead.”

All of the breath left my chest in a whoosh making me instantly dizzy. I stumbled, crumpling down heavily to the side of the bed, staring unseeing at my brother whose appearance suddenly became strange and blurry. A deep, wounding pain replaced the air that had been in my chest, leaving me feeling both too full and too hollow all at once.

Dead. The word echoed in my head, my brain trying harder and harder to convince the rest of me that this was wrong. All of it was wrong and Nikolai was fine. A word like dead just didn’t belong with him. It couldn’t.

For a long moment, I knew I was hyperventilating. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be.

I was numb to the world for a long moment, my breathing difficult, painful even, and my eyes clouded with either tears or just plain old sadness. Either way, I couldn’t make out anything of my surroundings. Grief overwhelmed me until there was nothing left.

Then I felt hands on me, long and gangly and a little clammy, though not necessarily cold. It took me a minute, but I came back to that dingy, awful little room in the Market Town Inn, noticing that my brother was standing there giving me a weird, curious look. And the hands that were on me? They belonged to Shawn. He was kneeling beside me, rubbing his hands over my arms where gooseflesh had cropped up everywhere, suddenly.

“It’s okay,” I finally heard him saying, his voice still kind of faraway. “It’s for the best. He was crazy…”

He said more, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to hear it, not from him or my brother. How could he do that? How…how?

Coming back to myself enough to fix my brother with a long, hard stare, I finally found the courage to get words out. They came out scratchy, like a frog croaking them out, but I didn’t care. I had to ask him, had to know, even though I now was fairly certain I didn’t want to hear his answer. “Did you…did you do it, Logan?”

His blonde eyebrows rose high on his forehead, causing his skin to crinkle almost comically. He looked bewildered that I had asked and for a moment he didn’t seem to know what to say. Then finally, he said, “Well, I mean, we did. Me and Joshua. He was there to help me roll him into that ditch. Good thing he was here. That Nikolai mongrel was a real piece of work and—”

I shook my head, feeling frustration bubbling. I couldn’t think of Nikolai right now. Couldn’t think of him as—as dead. So I focused. “I’m not talking about—” I couldn’t even say his name. If I did, I knew I would crack and the tears would come. I wasn’t sure they would ever stop if I let them fall. “I’m talking about the money, Logan. I’m talking about that…that man. Did you really beat him to death?” The last part came out as barely a whisper as I watched my brother’s face remain unchanged, calm and even casual. As though we were talking about where to go for dinner. My stomach roiled. I felt awful, nauseous, like I’d never be able to eat again.

Again, he stared at me as though I had asked him the most bizarre, completely out of left field question in the world. Like the question and the answer didn’t even matter.

Dread like a dead weight, a stone, fell into my stomach and sunk there until I felt cold and uncomfortable. Until I knew his answer before he even told me.

He shrugged his shoulders, still seeming unconcerned about the whole thing. “Well, yeah. I mean, he was some lowlife piece of trash anyway, right? He worked for the mob, Madeline. They’re all jerks. Who cares if he’s dead?”

And with those words, I felt the dread in me solidify. With it, a strange sense of calm washed over me. It wasn’t that I was okay with any of this. I wasn’t. Instead, it was as though knowing the truth, one way or the other, had finally put me at ease. It made me realize the options that were before me and I knew exactly which one I had to choose.

This man who stood before me—he was my brother, but at the same time, he wasn’t. The brother I knew had problems, to be sure. He was a screw up, a black sheep. He was a mean little kid, broken hearted about the death of our mother, and not dealing so well with the strict rules our dad had laid out before him. That brother was a pain in the rear, but he wasn’t a murderer.

This man, however, was. He was a monster, a cold-blooded killer, who did things without thought or concern as to their actions. If he’d had any concern, he wouldn’t have killed that man and stolen that money. And he wouldn’t have involved me like he did.

Sucking in a harsh breath, I knew I had to get out of this motel. I had to go and find Nikolai. If he was out there somewhere, lying in some ditch, dying, I had to be with him. Even if it was only for a few more moments, I had to be there. I had to, even though it meant I’d be watching the only man I had ever loved and ever was going to love die.

It was going to kill me, but I needed to see him.

I got up off the bed, brushing off Shawn who was still fawning over me like some kid lavishing flowers to his secret crush in high school in the hopes that she might notice him for even a moment. He might have looked hurt or annoyed or whatever, but I paid him so little attention that I didn’t notice one way or the other. It didn’t matter to me in that moment, because questioning my brother as I was now, I couldn’t help but question Shawn, too.

Had either of them told me the truth before this moment? I couldn’t be sure.

I settled my brother with one last scathing look, then turned away, stomping towards the door. I didn’t get very far. A hand snapped out and grabbed my arm harshly. I blinked in surprise, turning to see it was my brother who had grabbed me. He jerked me back and it took everything I had not to stumble and fall. I stared at him bewildered.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked me and his eyes flashed like orbs on fire.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, struggling to shake him off. “Let me go.”

But he didn’t. “Not a chance,” he told me, his voice low and menacing, a tone that didn’t belong to a brother.

I looked over at Shawn, thinking maybe he would be of some help, but he just looked at his lap, ignoring what was happening between me and Logan. I felt a pang in my heart. My best friend wasn’t going to help me? That was too awful. Returning my gaze to Logan, I repeated, “Let me go!”

“Forget it,” he told me, gritting his teeth and jerking me back, farther away from the door. “You’re not going anywhere. I think it’s best for everyone if you stay here with us a while.” Then he shoved me hard, sending me spiraling down to the bed. I tumbled next to Shawn and watched his eyes flicker to me for a moment, but not with even a smidgeon of sympathy. It was almost as though, once again, he was annoyed with me. Like this wasn’t how he had pictured it all in his head. Which made me wonder: what had he been picturing? And how much did he know before we got here?

Before I could think of how to argue my way out of it, or how to get around my brother to make a break for it, Logan turned to Shawn and pulled something out from the waistband of his worn jeans. It was a gun. My eyes widened at the sight of it, and Shawn flinched a little when Logan tossed it at him, but Shawn managed to catch it anyway with fumbling, nervous fingers. He looked up at my brother with wide eyes.

“Watch her,” he told Shawn, authority and threat lacing his voice in equal, terrifying parts. Who was this man? Certainly not my brother. “I have to go and meet up with Joshua, figure a few things out, but she’s wigging out.” He jerked his head towards me, but didn’t even glance in my direction. “I don’t want her to do anything stupid like go to the cops. Once these guys figure out that Nikolai guy is dead, they’ll send someone else. I want to be as far away from here as possible before that happens. So, watch her and make sure she stays put. Do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he turned and went to the door. He grabbed a backpack and nothing else, didn’t glance back at me or Shawn, and when the door shut, the sound was strangely deafening. As though that was not just the end of a discussion, but more than that. It was the end of everything.

I sucked in a harsh breath, then began to scoot myself to the edge of my bed. I stood up, but didn’t even begin to make it to the door when I heard Shawn’s voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I froze. Surely this wasn’t happening. Just because my dipshit brother gave Shawn a gun and a command, surely, he wouldn’t follow through with it, right? I turned to look at him and saw that he was holding the gun firmly.

In fact, he was pointing it. At me.

Chapter 28

Nikolai

The middle-aged man was a talker. He talked about the size of Madison and how once upon a time the town was supposed to grow into a huge city. It was where all the work was, where people, rich people with families and suburbanite attitudes were going to move, because they wanted a booming economy, but also the safety of small town life. But it all fell apart when it turned out there was no oil, the trees were protected federally, and the river was controlled farther up north. Then he talked about how he and his wife, who had recently left him for a twenty-something young woman who used to be a man, after getting a half a dozen tattoos and dying her hair black, had lived there half their lives, moving in with the boom and getting left behind when the once-bright promise of the future disappeared like a puff of white smoke.

I learned about how he’d always wanted to be a farmer or a rancher, but in the end, he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of land or animals. In fact, he didn’t know what to do with his own kids, though thankfully they were grown.

He talked about moving to an apartment, because it was less to take care of and getting a cat because the fee for a dog was outrageous. He talked about how he liked the way rain smelled and how the skies always seemed especially blue after a storm.

He went on until I felt like I knew more about this one man’s life than I did about my own. It was enough to drive a person crazy, though I kept myself sane by reminding myself this was a short trip and at the other end of it, I was going to kill Logan and Joshua both. It was enough to keep me calm, though I remained on the verge of just asking him to pull over and let me out right there on the side of the road. It seemed like walking would be better than listening to anything more, but I reminded myself that time was of the essence and I didn’t have enough of it to be dallying on the side of the road, no matter how much this kind but insanely talkative man was getting on my last nerve.

Finally, I spotted the sign for the Market Town Inn. Relief swamped me, even as tension rose within me. There would be a confrontation very soon now that I was so close.

“You can drop me off near the sign. That way you don’t have to turn back around inside the parking lot,” I told him, hoping he would take me up on his offer.

“Are you sure, young man?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting in question. He seemed to debate whether or not it was wise to just leave me out here. “I really wouldn’t mind. In fact, why don’t I take you right up to the lobby; that way if you don’t have your key, it’s no—”

“No!” I told him firmly, and maybe a little too quickly for common courtesy. I cleared my throat and forced myself to be calm. “I mean, no, thank you. That’s all right. I’ve got it from here. My key’s right here in my pocket.”

The man frowned a little, looking me over one last time, before pulling in to a stop right next to the sign. “Well, if you’re sure. Hey, how about I give you my number so if you run into trouble, you can—”

“That’s fine. My, uh, wife is in the room, too. She’s got the numbers of her family in the area and I’m sure the front desk will have the number for a tow truck.”

“Well, all right, I guess if you’re sure.”

Before he had the chance to argue further with me, I was out the door and around the side of the car to the sign, heading towards the Inn. I managed to wave over my shoulder at the man, encouraging him to leave. He watched me for several long minutes, making me grit my teeth in frustration, but, eventually, he finally pulled back off onto the road and I listened to him as he drove away.

Finally, I thought with relief. But it was a short-lived relief. As I got closer to the Inn, I noticed something. There was only one car in the parking lot and it wasn’t a bright red truck with a dent in it. I felt angry and annoyed. Logan wasn’t here. He must have left at some point while I’d been lying unconscious and that caused a shaking, consuming anger to rush through me. I was back to square one. Worse still, I didn’t have my cell phone with me, the jerk who jumped me had taken my gun, and I had no idea how many hours’ head start they had on me.

Frustration bubbled through me and I went through my options. Without my cell phone, I was going to have some issues. I had to get ahold of Sergei somehow. Since I did remember his number—I was good with things like numbers and his was handy to have—I could use basically any phone, though I’d have to be careful and let him know I wasn’t using my cell. Calls could easily be traced or bugged like that. One option was to go back to my car, drive to the nearest corner market or gas station, buy a disposable cell phone, and use that. But that would take a lot of time. I wasn’t sure if that gas station I’d stopped at when I first got into town would be very useful. It seemed to have only the bare minimum, the very basic of things, and I kind of doubted that they would carry disposable phones. Which meant I’d have to go farther.

I let out a frustrated breath. Things were not going according to plan. Not even a little bit.

Glancing towards the front office, I decided they would likely have a phone. I didn’t necessarily want to call Sergei from there, but it would be a heck of a lot faster. Once I got a location on the truck, I could head that general direction and pick up a phone along the way that would be more secure. It would cut my time in half and ensure I wasn’t going in the wrong direction as I searched for a place that would sell disposable phones.

I decided quickly that it was the best shot and headed towards the office. There was a bored looking man sitting there, feet propped, magazine in his lap. I noticed it was a dirty magazine of some kind, the woman mostly naked and occasionally wearing black leather that did little to cover up their oiled, perfectly sculpted bodies.

Annoyance surged through me as the man ignored the bell that chimed when I opened the door and continued to stare at the magazine for several minutes more.

Finally, my impatience won out. “Excuse me. Can I use your phone?”

The man didn’t even glance up as he said, “For paying customers only.”

I grit my teeth and tried to remain calm. The urge to punch this guy, to take out some of my frustration on him, was pretty intense, but I forced myself to stay focused and to keep from causing problems. The last thing I wanted to do was get a blasted room. Besides, I didn’t have any cash with me.

“What if I am a paying customer?” I demanded, folding my arms across my chest, deciding to bluff my way through this. I didn’t have time and if it didn’t fly with this lowlife, then I was going to knock him unconscious, consequences be darned.

Finally, the guy let out a sigh and turned away from his dirty magazine. The woman on the cover was blonde with hair tumbling in soft waves over large, surgically enhanced belly, as her collagen filled lips puckered towards the viewer. It was both sexy and strangely off-putting. I was getting a little tired of fake.

“You are?” He looked me over, then frowned. “Wait, are you that blonde guy’s friend? I mean, he’s having a regular cursed party in there.”

I nodded curtly. He had to be talking about Logan. I felt an urge to grill this poor shmuck to find out what he had seen, but I quickly decided against it. All I wanted was the phone and this man was unlikely to give me anything useful that Sergei wouldn’t. And Sergei was much more reliable.

“Now, may I use your phone?” I asked impatiently.

The guy shrugged. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Just make it fast. My boss is a real toe about the phones.” Then he turned back to his magazine, giving me a semblance of privacy.

I grabbed the phone and turned away from him after dialing. The phone rang several times and I was concerned Sergei might not pick up. After all, he wouldn’t have any reason to recognize the number I was calling from. After the fifth ring, I was almost positive that he wouldn’t, then the line clicked and there was a stern, cautious, “Hello?”

A whoosh of air escaped my lungs in relief. “Sergei, it’s Nikolai. I’m calling from the Market Town Inn.”

There was a pause, then the next thing he said was in pure, natural Russian. “What happened? Why aren’t you calling from your cell phone?”

I responded with equally smooth Russian, “It’s a long story and I really don’t have time for it. Let’s just say I had a little issue and my phone isn’t an option right now. Once I’m on the road, I’ll pick up another one and use it to contact you.”

“All right. What do you need?”

It killed me to say it, but I had to. “I lost Logan again. I need to get ahold of him. He knows that I can find him somehow, but I have a little bit of an advantage right now.”

“And what’s that?”

“He thinks I’m dead.”

Sergei let out a low whistle, then said, “Well, then. You know you will have to tell me the story about this later, right?”

I made an impatient noise in my throat. “Yes, yes. Just tell me where to go.”

“You got it.” There was some shuffling and a pause on the other end. Then he rattled off an address. “It’s some kind of warehouse, it looks like. As far as I can tell, it’s not in use and no one owns it. The bank’s got claws in it, but they haven’t done a thing with it.”

“Sounds like the perfect place to hide a lot of money,” I told him thoughtfully.

“Sure does. Take it easy. Call me when you get that new cell.”

I agreed and we hung up. I turned around to see the attendant staring at me with a bewildered look on his face. “Whoa, was that like German or something?”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at his ignorance, I turned away and said simply, “No.”

As I stepped outside, a plan formed in my head. Abandoned warehouse. A “party” at the Market Town Inn. Logan was getting the money; I was almost sure of it. The attendant had made it seem like Logan hadn’t checked out yet and the fact that the warehouse was empty made it the perfect place to hide things. No one was going to nose around an empty warehouse, and certainly not at night.

I would go to my car, I decided, and make sure my Glock was still safely tucked away. Then I would get to this warehouse, and I wouldn’t let Logan get the jump on me again. He thought I was dead, which gave me an edge, but I wouldn’t go into this overconfident. Not this time. From there, I would hopefully get ahold of his partner and put a quick bullet in his head. Then I could torture Logan until he told me where the money was. And if he didn’t, well, I was fairly certain it was there in the warehouse, meaning I could probably find it without him.

Yes, this would do just fine.

I was starting to head towards my car when I heard it. A curdling, terrified scream tore through the air and I froze. I had never heard her really scream before, only whimper and beg, but I didn’t have to in order to know whose voice it was that rang through the air.

Madeline.

Without hesitating, I turned and headed back towards the row of doors that marked the motel rooms. Another scream sounded and I saw which room it came from. Using my momentum and strength, I barreled into the door without hesitation, causing it to buckle beneath the force and weight of my body. It crashed to the floor, one hinge just barely hanging on.

The room was garbage with just a bed, a rickety desk, a wooden, straight-backed chair, and a pathetically dim lamp. All of which was completely irrelevant, because my eyes had gone straight to the bed. Lying on her back, her face turned away, her eyes pricking with tears, was Madeline. Her face was splotchy, her expression terrified, as she was pinned down to the bed, her hair fanning out in a long halo about her head. Her hands were held by one of her assailant’s above her head and I noticed she was wearing a bra, but no shirt. The man’s other hand was occupied, working at the button of her jeans. She was doing her best to struggle, to buck him off, but it was no use. She was too small, too weak compared to the man above her.

“Stop struggling!” he barked at her, his tone whiney and impatient.

And she did stop, but not because he ordered her to. Her wide, sparkling blue eyes had landed on me. She looked bewildered, almost as though she’d seen a ghost, but there was no doubt the relief that shone in them.

All of this happened within seconds. The man—it was Shawn, I realized with disgust—telling her not to struggle, Madeline freezing, the door slamming to the ground. I crossed the room in an instant, reaching for Shawn, just as he finally turned to see what had happened to the door. He had a millisecond to catch sight of me, for his eyes to go wide with astonishment, before I jerked him by the collar up and off of Madeline.

I ripped him away, throwing him to the floor away from the bed. Madeline scrambled away immediately then, her hands massaging her wrists before clutching at her exposed chest. She watched me, still full of disbelief and relief and something else that I didn’t have time to think about or place. I was too focused on the piece of scum at my feet.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what he’d been about to do to her, and it made my blood boil. I felt heat and rage flood my body until I was pounding with it, energy in the form of white-hot rage fueling my movements and pushing me forward. I watched almost detached from myself as I grabbed Shawn by the collar of his shirt with my left hand as I cocked my right one back. When it made contact with his face, there was a sickening crack. Red splattered the floor and marred his face. I’d broken his nose, but it wasn’t enough. I hit him again, this time the sound squelching and wet. I hit him again. And again. And again.

I couldn’t say how many times my fist made contact; I didn’t really care. All I knew was that he had to pay and hitting him was the closest thing to calming the rage.

I didn’t stop until Madeline whispered my name.

“Nikolai.”

Coming back to myself, shaking with adrenaline and the remnants of ager still coursing through my system, I let Shawn drop back to the floor. He was unconscious, his face resembling raw hamburger meat. Assuming I hadn’t done too-permanent damage to him, he’d definitely take time to heal and probably needed a doctor to fix up his face. At the very least set his nose.

I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for it, either.

Breathing heavily, I straightened myself up and turned to face Madeline. She’d gotten up off the bed and was now standing there, staring at me. I felt a flicker of worry rush through me. Was she disgusted with that display of violence? Probably. But I thought that was for the best.

It was important for her to know who I was, and just what she was getting herself into.

We stared at each other for a long while. I noticed her body was trembling, her eyes flooded with unshed tears, and without saying a word, I reached for her. She came willingly as I pulled her against my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her. As soon as she was safe in my embrace, she began to cry. Heavy, wracking sobs crashed through her body. She shook and trembled and sobbed in my arms. And for a moment, I gave her that. I let her cry, stroking her hair and letting her do what she needed to do.

Finally, when she began to settle, at least to the point where I could speak to her, I asked, “What are you doing here? What happened?”

The tears came again at my question, but she managed to get words out between hiccupping sobs. “I was sure you were dead,” she bawled. “H-he said y-you were dead. H-he said—” She broke off in a fit of more sobbing.

I stared at her. She thought I was dead? That seemed odd. Why would she think that unless Logan—

He’d told her.

My blood ran cold at the thought that he told her such a thing. What would be the point of that?

“He said he killed you.” Her small arms wrapped around my middle, holding me tightly as she could muster.

“Clearly, he was wrong,” I managed to get out, my voice sounding too harsh, too gruff. But she didn’t seem to notice. She just continued to hold tightly to me.

After a moment, I asked again, “But what are you doing here?”

Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled back to look up at me. I could see regret and guilt lying there and braced myself for the worse. She worried at her bottom lip—a habit I’d grown to adore—before finally telling me, “I—I ran away. We did.” She glanced at Shawn as she said this, but only for a moment. Her eyes moved away quickly from his prone form as though the mere sight of him made her feel queasy. Maybe it did. Looking at me again, she continued. “He told me you threatened him. That…that you said you’d kill him.” She sucked in a deep breath, then added, “And that you’d kill me, too.”

Shock raced through me.

What? Of all the insane things I’d heard recently, that one was probably top of the list. Shawn, I had definitely threatened. In fact, I wasn’t all that opposed to killing him. But Madeline? Even if she walked away from me, if she truly and honestly never wanted anything to do with me ever again, I would never wish her harm like that.

After a moment, shock was replaced by hurt. “You thought I would do that?”

Her blue eyes grew watery again and she frantically shook her head. “No. I mean, I was scared and Shawn was scared, so I thought he was being honest. But I hoped it was some sort of mistake, but you’re a hit man and then—” She was rambling, babbling. Shaking her head, she sucked in a breath and finished, “I knew I was wrong as soon as we got here. I was wrong about everything. You’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Something tense eased within my body and when she fell against me again, I wrapped my own arms around her, clutching at her almost desperately.

Chapter 29

Madeline

Shock was putting it mildly. Everything in my system seemed out of whack, off balance. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time and I was left wondering just how my life got so very crazy.

I was wrapped tightly in Nikolai’s arms, clinging to him as though he were a ghost and might disappear any moment, as though my holding him was the only thing tethering him to this world.

Which, of course, was ridiculous. Nikolai was here, flesh and blood. His body was hard and warm, his heart a thundering drumbeat in my ear, his breath feathering across my golden hair. What seemed like only moments before I had thought he was dead. Fully and truly.

I shuddered at the thought.

Imagining Nikolai bleeding somewhere in a ditch was one of the worst things I’d ever conjured in my head and I was sure, alive or not, it would haunt me for a very long thing. And it wasn’t the only thing that would haunt me.

Of their own accord, my gaze slithered down to Shawn, lying unconscious on the floor. His face was beaten and bloody, so disfigured in that moment—swollen, covered in blood, his nose at the wrong sort of angle to be natural—that I wouldn’t have even been able to recognize him if I hadn’t known it was him.

Which wasn’t so far from the truth in the first place. If anything, I didn’t recognize him. Not in how he looked now or what he had tried to do just seconds before. My skin crawled at the thoughts of what Nikolai had interrupted.

The gun was aimed at me. Shakily, yes, but there was no question that the barrel was leveled at my chest and it was clutched in his hand. How could my best friend be threatening me?

“Shawn, what are you doing?” I asked, my chest constricting, my heart hurting with the weight of knowledge. The knowledge that my brother was something awful. That my friend was threatening me. And, worst of all, that Nikolai was out there somewhere, dying or maybe already dead.

I winced at the thought, the pain growing in my chest.

Shawn was visibly sweating, his upper lip coated with it, his brow pebbled with little beads of it. He licked his lip, wiping away that line of sweat. I imagined the gross, salty taste and cringed. After a moment, he answered, “Logan said you need to stay here. He told me—he told me I need to keep you here.” He made an unpleasant face, like he wasn’t all that happy with how things were going, but he didn’t seem to think there was any other choice. “So…just, come back to the bed.”

I stared at him, my eyes impossibly wide, my face a mask of complete and utter shock. How could he be doing this? “What?” I asked, my brain not really comprehending.

He licked his lips again. They looked really dry, cracked in places. “I said, come back to the bed. Now.” He had begun to put more force into his voice, and I sensed something had changed. He’d made a decision. One that I wasn’t going to like.

“Shawn,” I whispered, feeling the desperation creep up along my spine and into my throat. “We need to go. Logan…Logan has lost it. He killed a man!” Two men, I thought gravely, thinking of Nikolai. But I knew I couldn’t bring him up. I couldn’t, because it would tear my heart to shreds to keep thinking of him dead, but also because I knew that wouldn’t go over well with Shawn.

Finally, it occurred to me that Shawn lied. Nikolai wasn’t after us. Or at least, he wasn’t after me.

“Doesn’t matter,” Shawn said. He stood up from the bed, suddenly looking too tall and menacing, not at all like the young man whom I’d considered my best friend for all of our lives. When had things changed so much?

He motioned with the gun for me to go back to the bed. “Get on the bed, Madeline. Now.”

It suddenly occurred to me how bad of a situation this was. This Shawn was being ruled by something I didn’t recognize and it wasn’t just fear, though there was certainly some of that. There was something else going on in his head, and it seemed like an awful thing.

I had to comply. He was being so erratic; I didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t listen. So, I slowly moved back to the bed, doing my best to not act afraid, though I most definitely was. His eyes flashed with something dark that I didn’t like. As I moved to stand beside the bed, he seemed to get a sudden idea.

“Take off your shirt.”

My eyes went wide. “What?”

“You heard me. Take it off.” He was still holding the gun and now we were much closer. There was no chance he’d miss if he fired it at me. When I didn’t move to comply with his ‘order,’ he motioned with the gun again. “I said take it off!”

I flinched as his voice rose in volume. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to take off my shirt, and I didn’t want to think about why he was asking me to. I didn’t want to think about that dark look in his eyes…

But with trembling, numb fingers, I reached the hem of my shirt. I closed my eyes shut, fighting back a surge of tears, and jerked the shirt over my head. Sucking in a shuddering breath, I opened my eyes when he’d yet to give me further commands.

I saw him staring at me. His eyes were locked onto my breasts, which were starting to grow from my pregnancy, becoming too large for my regular bras now. I was practically spilling from it and I cringed at how hungrily he was staring at me.

Nausea swept through me. I knew what that look was now; I knew what he wanted. And it was awful.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, motioning again with the gun.

I almost shook my head, thought about fighting him off, but I knew with that gun, it would be all over in minutes. And I could no longer trust the thought that Shawn, my best friend, wouldn’t shoot me. This wasn’t the man I knew. All bets were off.

Trembling, I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. The tears had started to fill my eyes, blurring my vision and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they fell.

I saw Shawn’s left hand, the one not holding the gun, go to the fly of his jeans. I felt bile rise in my throat and had to work not to throw up. He was going to do this. He was actually going to force me to—

I couldn’t finish the thought.

My brain worked feverishly to try to come up with a way out of there. Maybe I could knock the gun away and make a break for the door. Probably not, though. Shawn was faster than he looked and I already knew he was stronger than I was. And even if I did manage to get out, where would I go? Maybe the guy at the front desk would help me—or maybe not. He didn’t seem to care much.

And Shawn had the keys to the car. If I tried to run, it would be on foot. He’d catch me in a heartbeat.

Dread filled me as he yanked down his zipper. I looked away so I wouldn’t have to see the evidence of his arousal—how could he be turned on by this?

Clenching my eyes shut, I begged him, “Please, Shawn, don’t do this.” It was barely even a whisper and he ignored it completely.

My eyes were still closed when I felt the shove on my shoulders. I fell back onto the bed and Shawn’s body followed me instantly, laying himself on top of me. The tears were finally falling and I was shaking my head. Panic swarmed me. This was happening. This was happening and he had a gun and what was I going to do?

I started to struggle, a sudden thought entering my head: I won’t let him have me.

Yes, he had a gun. Yes, I would probably die if I didn’t let him rape me. But, dangit, I’d rather be dead than raped.

I bucked at him and started slapping at his shoulders and arms, tried to shove him off of me. But it was hopeless. He grunted and cursed, but he wouldn’t get off of me. He managed to get a hold of my arms, pinning them above my head. All I’d succeeded in doing was annoying him. “Jerk,” he breathed. “You’ve always been a jerk. Never even bothered to see the nice guy right in front of you. No, it was all about the bad boy, wasn’t it? Well, is this bad enough for you?”

He held both of my wrists in one hand. I tried to jerk them free, but it was useless. His grip was surprisingly strong. He had finally tossed the gun aside. I would have been relieved except that I was still pinned down and now his free hand was undoing my pants, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties.

I screamed.

He didn’t care.

“Stop struggling!”

And then the door came down. Nikolai appeared. And I wasn’t even sure I registered anything else. All I could think was: he’s alive.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, fighting back more sobs. I had to be calm and collected. I needed to be strong. And that seemed a lot easier now that Nikolai was here.

He shook his head. “No, don’t be. None of this is your fault.”

I let that sink in for a moment. Not my fault. That was a good thing. A good feeling to know that after all that had just happened—and before that, too—Nikolai didn’t think it was my fault. It eased something hard and cold in my chest, making it just a little bit easier to breathe.

“What do we do now?” I asked in just barely a whisper.

He pulled back a little bit, my body instantly noticing his missing heat, and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. He glanced down at Shawn, his bright eyes flashing in fury. “We’ll have to do something about him.” He frowned, glancing between me and Shawn. “I suppose what we do depends on you.” He said that last bit stiffly, as though he didn’t like it, but was saying it because he felt duty bound to do so.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He let out a sigh. “I mean that he’s the father of your baby. If you want him around—” He shrugged, as though my answer was unimportant, but there was a flicker in his eyes that told me it was. Butterflies filled my stomach as I realized I had to tell him the truth. I didn’t know what he’d say, what he’d think after everything, but I needed him to know the truth of the matter.

I needed him to know how big of a lie I’d told him.

Sucking in a breath in hopes of steadying my nerves, I said what I’d been hiding for so long: “I lied.”

He looked at me uncertainly. His piercing blue eyes narrowed at me. “Lied about what?”

“About the baby.”

His expression faltered and there was a sudden and profound sadness left there in its wake. “You’re not pregnant?”

I blinked at him in surprise. That was not where I thought he would go with that. I shook my head at him. “No, I mean, yes, I’m pregnant. I mean I lied when I told you he was the father.” I couldn’t make myself look at Shawn much less say his name. “He’s not. I’ve…you’re the only man I’ve ever been with, Nikolai.” I hesitated, the final confession lingering on my lips uncertainly. Finally, I said in barely more than a whisper, “You’re the only man I want to be with. Just you.”

There was a moment of silence that spread between us, so deep, so stark that I thought I was too late. My confessions meant nothing now. I’d botched the whole thing up and I didn’t know what I would do and—

He jerked me to him, our chests colliding as he leaned down, his mouth seeking out mine. His kiss was hard, possessive, filled with the passion I’d always gotten from him. Not quite desperation, but so full of emotion and possession and need that it was undeniable.

I felt my arms go around his neck, my eyes fluttering shut as I fell against him, losing myself in that kiss. He held me to him tightly, his arms encasing me in strength and hard muscle, his hands on the small of my back and that spot between my shoulder blades to ensure I was going nowhere.

And I wasn’t. This was exactly where I wanted to be, nowhere else.

His tongue slid across my lips, feeling as though he’d done it a thousand times and should do it a thousand more. I opened my mouth for him, allowing his tongue to slide inside and duel with my own. I groaned against him, wishing for more than just this kiss and afraid at the same time to ask for it.

We kissed like that forever. Our bodies pressed together so tightly that nothing could fit between them, our breaths heaving, our heartbeats drumming in sync.

But eventually, it had to stop. We slowed down, albeit reluctantly. Then, with a tender sweep of his lips across mine, we finally broke apart. He sucked in a breath and when his eyes met mine, they flashed with desire and need. But there was no time for either.

Brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear, he said, “We have to go. Staying here is dangerous.”

I nodded in agreement. I wanted out of this room. It didn’t matter where I was, so long as it wasn’t here and Nikolai was with me. His eyes drifted down to Shawn, examining him coolly. After a moment, he looked back to me. “He’s going to be a problem if he wakes up like that.” Considering him for a second longer, he said, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get to a phone any time soon.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled away from me completely—it was a terrible feeling, the need to be beside him, wrapped up in him, so intense it was startling—and kneeling down to get a grip on Shawn’s feet. He nodded his chin towards the only other door in the room besides the entrance. “Open it, please.”

I nodded and went to it hurriedly. I opened the bathroom door, then stood aside so Nikolai could drag Shawn’s unconscious form into the small, dirty room. I watched him lean Shawn’s head against the porcelain of the toilet, then come back out into the main part of the room. He jerked out the cord for the telephone and made sure it was detached from both wall and phone. Then he proceeded to tie Shawn up, his hands coming together on the opposite side of the toilet, so it looked like he was hugging the cold porcelain, his head leaned against the top, cheek pressed to the side.

I thought Nikolai was done, but then he stole a pillow, too, and wadded it up. He shoved it into Shawn’s mouth. Then he stepped back and admired his work. Satisfied, he turned back to me. Raising a single eyebrow, he asked, “Are you okay with this?”

There was little today that I was okay with, but Shawn tied up to a toilet—alive, breathing, and in better shape than they thought they’d left Nikolai in—was one of them. I could live with it. I nodded.

He relaxed a little. “Good. We need to go.” He grabbed my arm—the third man to do so today, and by far the gentlest—leading me out the door. He frowned at the broken door he’d kicked in, and released me long enough to pull it back to a standing position. It was definitely still broken, but if you weren’t looking too closely, it looked almost just like the other doors next to it. Hopefully it would be enough to escape attention, for a while at least.

We started walking away from the Market Town Inn. I noticed his car wasn’t in sight. “Where are we going?” I asked.

He held my hand as we walked along the side of the road, staying a little farther into the woods so the trees helped to hide us from view. “I parked about a half a mile up the road, just to make sure no one spotted my car.” He offered me a wry smile. “I’m glad I did, though I don’t know how much good it did me in the end.”

I didn’t answer. I wanted to ask him what had happened, but at the same time, I knew enough to know I didn’t want to know any more. I stayed silent.

We walked until the woods opened up to a clearing. It was a parking lot for a building that looked rundown and boarded up. It didn’t look like anything. When we got around the shack, I spotted his car, hiding in the shadows.

“Good. It’s still here.”

He opened the passenger door for me and got in on the driver’s side. I shivered and immediately he started up the car in response, turning the heat on full blast. It took only a moment for it to heat up, but when it did, I felt better. The heat seeped into my bones, relaxing my body until I finally felt safe and warm and just better.

Nikolai looked over at me. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I need to find your brother.”

I nodded. Nikolai looked surprised, but I offered him a small, sad smile. “I know.”

After everything my brother had told me, I understood now that he wasn’t who I thought he was. And while maybe I wasn’t ready to consider what Nikolai would do to him—he was still my brother and no matter what he’d done, I didn’t wish for him to die—I knew my brother couldn’t be left to his own devices. He’d done something horrible.

I was hoping maybe I could talk Nikolai into calling the police. It seemed pretty improbable, but maybe if I told him I would make the call—anonymously—and be sure not to mention anything about Nikolai and his employers, then maybe he would go for it. Logan needed to be punished, but I wasn’t yet convinced that he needed to die.

I knew I’d have to talk to Nikolai about it before we reached my brother, but I also sensed that now was not the time to bring it up. Not yet, though it would have to be very soon.

“I’m not sure where he is,” I admitted to Nikolai, frowning. “I know he’s meeting up with Joshua, though.”

He nodded, thinking about it. “That’s good to know. I’ve got a location for Logan; I just wasn’t sure if this Joshua character would be there, too.”

I was surprised to find out that Nikolai knew already where Logan was, but I thought maybe I shouldn’t have been. After all, he’d found him at the Market Town Inn. Biting my lip, I nodded. “What are you going to do? Won’t it be dangerous with both of them there?”

Nikolai gave me a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle them.”

I frowned at him. He looked badly beat up, bruised, and his lip was a little bloody. He was covered in dirt, too, and I knew he’d been beaten severely enough that Logan was convinced he was dead. If it had gone that way the first time around, why would this time be any different?

As though reading my mind, Nikolai offered me a more genuine smile. He put his hand on mine, sending sparks of electricity running up my arms. “They got the jump on me before. But not this time. I won’t give them the chance to fight dirty twice.”

I nodded, though I was still scared and worried for him. This was going to go badly; I could feel it.

We drove towards a warehouse that Nikolai had apparently been directed towards. He insisted we stop at a store on the way to pick up a disposable cell phone and to get me some ginger ale and Mentos, the only things that kept my stomach calm, but aside from that, we didn’t stop at all.

He seemed a little on edge with me being there. “I would drop you off first,” he explained as we drove through the quiet night. “But I can’t be sure nothing will happen. What if Logan leaves before I get there? What if Shawn manages to get out? No, I can’t leave you alone. This is the only way I can protect you.”

A warm feeling flooded me. After the way my brother had so carelessly dragged me into this, after Shawn had pointed a gun at my head and then forced himself on me, it was nice to have at least one person thinking about my safety.

I smiled at Nikolai, relieved we were finally together again.

Chapter 30

Nikolai

I drove with purpose towards the warehouse. After getting the disposable cell phone from the market, as well as a couple of things to ensure that Madeline’s morning sickness didn’t suddenly rear its ugly head, I made a point to call Sergei and check to make sure the truck was still there. It was, he assured me. I felt a little bit better this time around, having a few things working in my favor. The first was that Logan felt certain I was dead. It was his own stupidity that had ensured he hadn’t finished the job of putting me to rest and it served him right that he would feel falsely secure. The second was that I knew Joshua would be there, too. Madeline had provided me with that bit of information and it was helpful, because I knew what to look out for.

My eyes glanced over at Madeline in the passenger seat. She was quiet, thoughtful. Up to this point, she had been pretty adamant about her brother, sure that he wasn’t capable of the things for which he’d been accused, but tonight she was strangely silent.

I think it had to do with the confession of killing me; ironically enough, that swayed her opinion of him. After all, if he was capable of killing me, wasn’t he just as capable of having murdered someone else? It didn’t matter that he actually hadn’t managed to finish me off, only that he’d intended to.

Still, I was surprised she was going along with this so willingly. Perhaps she was still in shock after what happened in the motel.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter until my knuckles were turning white. What sort of monster tried to rape a pregnant woman? I should have killed him right then and there, and probably would have if Madeline hadn’t been in the room. But she was, and though smashing his face in helped a little bit, it didn’t really quell the licking flames of hatred burning in my gut.

At least she’s safe. At least she’s with me.

It was the only comforting thought I had, really.

After a while of driving, Madeline finally spoke up, her voice small and hesitant. “You’re going to kill my brother, aren’t you?” she asked, her gaze ahead of her instead of turned towards me.

I frowned, not sure what to answer with. Of course I was, and I had the feeling she already knew that. Not wanting to lie to her, I nodded. “Yes.”

She fell silent again for a moment, then, “And that’s the only way? I mean, is it about the money, or something else?”

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. I thought she had realized what sort of man her brother was. After thinking for a moment, I said, “It would be a lie to say it isn’t about the money. Even for those who love what they do, it is still, in some part, about the money. But that is not the only thing I take into consideration.”

“And what else do you consider then?”

I mulled the question over for a moment before answering, realizing how important it was. “It’s a little bit about justice, in a strange sort of way. Some people just need to die. They’re dangerous and have proved themselves to be nothing else. I can’t let that go, but I would be lying if I said I was only being noble or righteous. Because I’m not. I work for some dangerous people, Madeline. And these people are a big part of why I do what I do. I owe Mickey—” I slipped up, I realized, saying his name, but she was going to be a part of my life now. I’d already made up my mind on that, so I glossed over it and kept going. She needed to know who she was getting involved with. “—a lot and if he asks something of me, I won’t ask too many questions before I do what I do.”

There was a long pause filled with tense silence before Madeline spoke again. I was worried as she did, her next words a clue as to how all future conversations might go. “So you wouldn’t consider getting the police involved?” she asked timidly.

I glanced at her sharply and said in a flat tone, “No. Not even remotely.”

She frowned, turning in her seat so she was facing me. “What if it was reported anonymously? He could be locked away and you wouldn’t have to—”

I interrupted her before she went any farther. “Mickey won’t let the police be involved. Logan’s death warrant has already been issued. Now, it need only be served. And if not by me, someone else will take the job.”

She fell silent at that. We didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. I knew she wanted to find another way, one in which her brother survived, but there was nothing I could do about that. She loved him, yes, but he’d already wasted too much time and messed up in too many ways. There was no more lenience to be offered.

***

We arrived at the warehouse a little while later. It was still light and the first thing I noticed was that the streetlights in the immediate vicinity were out. None of them worked until several blocks down. I didn’t think it was a coincidence.

The second thing I noticed was the red truck parked out front. There was a second vehicle there next to it, a beat-up Chevy that I hadn’t seen before, but I imagined it belonged to Joshua. Other than those two cars, the place looked deserted.

I had the lights off on the car, though it was still running as I carefully crept around the warehouse looking to see what I could find. I noticed a broken window that could probably serve as my way in, and a back door that looked to be sealed shut. The front door seemed to be open, like they entered that way and didn’t bother to close it up after, but I didn’t want to risk going in the same way. Too dangerous, too obvious. No, I’d use the window.

Driving down the street a little ways, I finally turned off the car, but I left the keys there. Checking my gun, I spoke to Madeline who was sitting in the passenger seat, trembling. “All right, I’m going to go in. You’ll have to stay here—I won’t risk you in there if things go badly.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I fixed her with a harsh stare. She closed her mouth without saying a word.

“I’m going to leave the keys here, just in case. If anything goes wrong, if anything seems wrong, I want you to run. Don’t go to the police,” I cautioned, sensing what a young woman, wholesome and sweet, might do in this type of situation. “It’s not just a matter of justice with the people I work for. If they figure out you gave them up to the police, the price will be on your head.” I didn’t tell her that I wouldn’t be there to save her, either. “Instead, keep your head down. There’s spare cash in the glove compartment. Don’t go home. Get out of town, use a new name. Start over.”

She looked terrified by all I was telling her. Tears pricked at her eyes as her hands overlapped her stomach, not yet swollen with the baby growing inside. The baby I now knew was mine.

Pride and sadness alike swelled within me at that thought. There was a chance I might die tonight without ever even seeing my child, but I pushed that thought aside, focusing on what I had to do. Pulling Madeline across the seat to meet me, I pressed my lips to her in a searing, passionate kiss. One that I hoped told her everything I was feeling in that moment.

I hoped it told her that she was mine.

When I broke it, her lips were swollen and her eyes fluttered. “Hide in the backseat,” I told her seriously. “If I don’t make it back, take the car and the money and run. And Madeline?”

She looked up at me with those huge, bright blue eyes.

Taking her hand, I moved it so it was palm up and put one of my two spare guns in the palm of her hand. “Protect yourself. Protect that child.”

Before I left, she grabbed me and whispered, “Please come back.”

I nodded once, then I was gone.

It was impossibly dark outside, so it took me a long moment to let my eyes adjust and get my bearings. Once I did, I spotted the broken window and made a beeline for it. Heaving myself inside, I dropped down quietly, my fall barely making a clopping noise. Even so, I ducked down behind a stack of crates three tall, waiting.

When silence carried through the entire place and no one made a move as though they’d heard me, I peeked around the corner of the crates. It was empty. Frowning, I straightened up and pulled my gun, searching the lower floor of the warehouse. Cursing quietly, I was about to reconsider my options—perhaps they’d gone somewhere else, maybe it was a different warehouse, maybe they’d dumped the truck—when I heard voices. Swiveling around, I found a set of stairs leading to an upper floor. Floating down those stairs were voices.

One of them I recognized as Logan’s.

I headed up the stairs as slowly and silently as possible, gun at the ready. As I moved closer, I caught pieces of their conversation. “I don’t want to do that,” said Logan.

The other man answered in an annoyed voice. Joshua. “We don’t have a choice, man. This is your fault.”

There was a pause, then Logan demanded, “How was I supposed to know she’d show up at the motel?”

I frowned as I continued my way up the stairs. She? I had a sinking suspicion that I knew who they were talking about and I was thinking I didn’t like why they were talking about her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Joshua again. “She did show up and now she’s a blasted liability.” There was a long pause, then Joshua sighed and said, “She’s gotta die, man. You know it and I do.”

I tensed. This was a moment of truth for me. Joshua was willing to kill Madeline—which meant there was no question in my mind that he had to die, preferably in a horrible way—but Logan was her brother. Would he really go along with this?

There was a lengthy pause, but finally Logan spoke and sealed his fate. “I know. But…I don’t have to do it, right?”

My blood ran cold. I thought of two little blonde children running around on a farm together. I thought of Madeline’s bright, sweet smile. I thought of my child growing inside her. Taking a steadying breath, I reminded myself that I got to Madeline first. She was safe and they wouldn’t touch her.

Not now, not ever. Tonight, I was going to kill them both and there would be no mercy for either of them.

I was about to enter the room, when I heard the creak. It was the step just below me. Before I even had the chance to turn around, I felt the barrel of the gun digging into the back of my skull.

Chapter 31

Madeline

I was sitting curled up on the floor between the two rows of seats. I was trembling all over, thinking of the things Nikolai had just told me. They were supposed to bring me comfort, knowing I was safe. I had the keys to his car and a stash of money. I hadn’t checked it, but I knew without asking that it wasn’t just a little bit of money. I could be out of here without even glancing back. I could be whoever I wanted. Wherever.

But the only place I wanted to be was with him.

The idea that he might not come back was eating me up inside. I had already been so close to losing him; I wasn’t sure I could take it again. First, I’d tried to push him away, terrified of this idea of him being a hit man, but things had changed dramatically since then. I’d broken my own heart before, but I’d found the pieces of it and put it back together again. I decided I loved Nikolai, only to be told he was dead.

It had nearly killed me on its own.

And now? Now, he was running into that warehouse with at least two dangerous men inside, both of them more than willing to kill him. And all along, he was making sure I was safe.

My hands made soothing circles over my stomach, massaging and caressing the soft belly that would soon grow. All this time I’d been terrified of a becoming a single mother, and that feeling hadn’t changed. What had changed was the reason why I felt that way.

I hadn’t wanted to disappoint my father, but now I didn’t care. If he were going to disown me for this, he never really loved me.

I didn’t want to struggle, to give up my dreams, to have to raise a baby when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. But if that were what I had to do, I would do it. I would do my best, even if I messed up from time to time. I’d love that baby with all my heart and take care of it to the best of my ability.

I was scared of being a single mother because I couldn’t bear the idea of spending the rest of my life without Nikolai. How would I explain that it was my baby’s uncle who killed its father?

Tears sprung to my eyes and I got out one quiet sob before clamping my hand down over my mouth. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t be weak. And I definitely wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention to myself.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, I pulled myself together.

I was going to lose someone I loved tonight, I realized. Either it would be the man I loved or it would be the brother I’d known all my life. I closed my eyes against the flood of memories of the two of us growing up together. I remembered climbing trees and swimming in the pond. I remembered ice skating and hay rides. I remember sneaking out and drinking with friends.

Where had it all gone wrong?

But then, I already knew the answer to that, didn’t I? It had started to go wrong when our mom died. Logan shut down, lost himself to despair. When he tried to crawl back out of it, he wasn’t the same boy I’d always known. He was meaner, crueler. It was like there was a ball of darkness lodged in his chest and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to take it out on others. I had always told myself he didn’t mean it, but now I wasn’t even sure that was true.

He just needs help, I had thought, trying to convince myself that the brother I loved was still in there somewhere. He needs therapy, rehabilitation. He doesn’t deserve to die, does he?

The fact that I wasn’t sure anymore spoke volumes about the state I was in and just how much had gone horribly wrong. I shifted uncomfortably on the floor of the car. The night was so dark and so quiet that it was really freaking me out. It didn’t help that now I knew there were terrible things that went bump in the night. Terrible things that my baby was going to have to deal with. Shaking my head, I tried not to think about it.

Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe Nikolai would take pity on Logan and let him go. Maybe Logan would go and seek help out on his own. Maybe Nikolai would love me as much as I loved him and we’d all live happily ever after.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. I shook my head. What a ridiculous fantasy.

I froze when I heard a sudden shout. It was coming from the warehouse just beyond the car. Was it Nikolai’s voice I just heard? Was he in trouble?

“Oh goodness,” I said aloud. Was he going to die?

Before I could think better of it, I was struggling to unwedge myself from the tight space on the floor of the car. I needed to get out of there. I needed to get to the warehouse and run to help Nikolai. If he died while I hid and did nothing, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

When I’d managed to get myself out of the folded-up position on the floor, I scrambled over the bench seat in the back and opened the door. Just before I made a mad dash, I ripped the keys from the ignition and made a break for it.

If it weren’t Nikolai who was hurt, but rather someone else was and they were trying to run, I wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

That was the only really intelligent thought I had as I ran towards the sound. Nikolai had gone in through a broken window, dropping down to the floor on the other side, but I was nervous about putting that kind of weight on my stomach. What if it hurt the baby? Besides, I wasn’t sure what I’d be dropping down into and what if the landing wasn’t so soft?

Instead of the window, I went around to the front of the building and jerked on the double doors that led into the warehouse. It was a risk, but I decided it was the only one I could really afford to take. They opened easily, without even a lingering chain to suggest they’d ever been locked in the first place.

When I first came inside, I thought I must have gotten the wrong place. There was nothing inside the huge room used for storage other than a few stacked miscellaneous crates. I noticed that they were mostly pushed up along the walls and that the floors were dusty. The only thing that suggested to me that maybe someone had been here recently were the footprints. The floor was so dusty that even in the dim lighting I could make out the brief trail of cleared floor in the dark. They began at the window and led to something I hadn’t noticed before.

A set of stairs.

Hurrying forward, I rushed up the stairs. Now I heard the noises again. There was a crashing sound and some grunting. It sounded like a struggle. Fear settling in my gut, I moved as quickly as I could up the stairs towards the sound.

When I reached the second floor, I saw it was Nikolai. He was fighting with another man who was dressed in dark colors, blues and blacks as far as I could tell. The other man was about the same size as Nikolai, but he didn’t look as strong. At least, I didn’t think so. But they were fighting angrily, urgently. The man seemed to sense that the only way to stop Nikolai was to put him down for good.

The thought made me pale, nauseating me. I thought for a moment about running forward to try to help him, but thought better of it before reacting. If I inserted myself into the fight, what good would I really do him? Probably, I would just present myself as a weakness for Nikolai and a means of leverage over him for the other guy.

I was still debating the wisdom of trying to help when I spotted them. I saw Logan’s golden blonde hair first, just a shade darker than mine. His back was turned to me and running beside him was a second man. They were sprinting from the room, talking in low voices that I couldn’t really make out.

Nikolai was still fighting with the other man as my gaze darted between the two fighting men and the two that were desperately running away. Every fiber of my being wanted to help Nikolai, but I already knew what a terrible idea that was. I wouldn’t do him any good by trying to join in the fight. If anything, I’d just end up getting myself badly hurt, and that was something neither of us would be interested in.

Plus, the baby…

Turning towards my brother who I could just barely see running around a corner, I considered my second option. If I didn’t stop them and they got away, Nikolai would have to track them to the next location. And the next. It could go on forever. I didn’t want my brother to die, but Nikolai would never stop. But maybe if I got to him first, if I reasoned with him about everything that had happened, if I got him to give back the money, he wouldn’t have to die. I didn’t care what Nikolai had told me in the car. There had to be another way.

Deciding that was my only course of action, I ran towards the two fleeing men. I spared Nikolai one last glance, heartened to see that he seemed to have the upper hand with the other man. I told myself he was strong, that no matter what, he would survive this.

For me and for our baby.

I ran down the hallway, trying to follow the two men. I had seen them turn at the very end of the hall, heading somewhere that I couldn’t yet see. I had no idea how the warehouse was set up and was surprised that there seemed to be rooms and a hallway all on the second floor. I thought these places were just meant for storage, but it seemed like this one was actually set up like some sort of house.

Had my brother maybe been living here? Or, at least, hiding out?

That seemed pretty likely, which was kind of unfortunate. It meant he and his friend—Joshua, he’d said, though I didn’t know of any friends of Logan’s who were named Joshua—had to know this place a lot better than I did. Was there another staircase at the end of this hall? Did it lead up another flight or back down to the main floor? Was there a secret passage or a window they were going to jump out of?

I couldn’t know, so I just ran and hoped I could head them off before they escaped. I had to get to them first, to reason with them before it all went horribly wrong. My heart told me Nikolai would win his fight and maybe that was just because I was so desperate to believe it, for him to be alive when this was all over, but I was confident of the outcome all the same.

Which meant I didn’t have a lot of time to try to get through to Logan and this crazy Joshua guy. I hoped and prayed they would listen. The weight of the gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans, the one Nikolai had given me, reminded me I had some leverage. Maybe it would be enough to make them listen.

I turned the corner into another hall and saw Joshua and Logan standing at the end of it, breathing heavily, talking to one another about something urgently. I hurried forward, confident now that I could finally talk some sense into them.

Chapter 32

Nikolai

I took a hard hit to my jaw, making the bruise already there throb all the worse. The force of the blow sent me stumbling back until I hit the rickety old wooden table behind me. It couldn’t support my weight and ended up crashing down beneath me. A whoosh of air escaped my lungs harshly, thanks to the force of the landing. My back ached beneath me, pieces of chipped, splintered wood pressing into my skin.

What a night.

I would have been faring a lot better in the fight if I hadn’t been already injured. But my body was protesting the work I was forcing it to do and I wasn’t having as much luck with this man as I might have under different circumstances.

He had to have had some sort of previous fighting experience. Maybe ex-military. They weren’t always the most intelligent of the bunch so I imagined it would be pretty easy to get dragged in with a few lowlifes like Logan and his little pal Joshua.

Normally, I would call Mickey and ask for permission—or at least confirmation—that he wanted this man dead, too, but I didn’t have time to bother with such formalities. I’d kill him for free and, more to the point, I wasn’t about to stop in the middle of our scuffle to have a little chat with my boss.

So, when the man came at me, roaring with rage that suggested he was probably dipping a little too heavily into the steroids, I let him come. It wasn’t until he was all but on top of me that I moved.

Jerking my body to the side, I rolled halfway, then used my legs to sweep his out from under him. He didn’t see it coming. He fell to the floor, just managing to catch himself on his arms before face planting into the dusty, wooden floorboards.

Cursing at me, he scrambled quickly to his feet, rounding on me. I did the same, rising quickly and facing him. I was trying to think strategy, but I knew this fight was taking too long. Fighting him hand to hand was proving to be a difficult task. Whether it was because I wasn’t up to my full fighting weight or because he was better than I gave him credit for, it really didn’t matter.

I had to end this fight, quickly.

Joshua and Logan had already fled the room and I was wasting precious time with this moron. If they managed to escape, I was going to find myself in trouble. At this point, I wouldn’t doubt if they decided to switch vehicles. Even morons had to assume that they were being tracked somehow and the easiest things to track were cell phones and cars. They’d probably dump Logan’s truck before I got another chance like this.

No, I had to deal with this fight and end it now. No more screwing around.

My eyes searched the room, debris coating the floor, dust flying around in the air. The bookcase to the left had been upended, what few small things had been on it now scattered about the floor, broken or at least damaged in some way. The table had already been crushed beneath my weight, the jagged pieces of wood poking out from the floor, daring someone to forget about them and fall on their splintered ends.

I thought briefly about trying to get him down on one of those pieces, but that was a difficult task. Even if I could make him fall—which was unlikely given how big the guy was—it would take a lot of pushing to get that wood through his body. No, I needed something faster.

He came at me then, tired of waiting for me to make my next move. His arms flailed, his fists swinging closer and closer to my face, but I was dodging him easily now. I was expecting his reckless, bar brawling attacks and they no longer unsettled me. Instead, my eyes kept scanning the room until they finally landed one the thing I’d been searching for.

My gun.

The man in black swung at me again and the gun had distracted me enough that he landed a hit to my shoulder, causing me to stumble backwards. But I didn’t lose my balance. Keeping my focus on him, but still aware of where the gun was, I forced him to dance. I came at him, throwing wild punches he was forced to dodge. It didn’t really matter to me if they landed; I only wanted to make sure he kept moving.

It was working. Every hit sent him floundering backwards, unsteady on his large, bulky feet, mostly from the debris that coated the floor.

Finally, I sent a shove to the middle of his chest. It knocked the wind out of him and caused him to stumble a little. He didn’t fall to the floor, but it gave me just enough time to make a dive for the gun. I slid across the floor, hand out, and felt the gun slide into my palm. As it did, I swiveled around, lying down on my back as the man regained his balance and came at me.

He roared one last time, and then he saw the gun.

I fired. The bullet tore through his head, sending blood and brain matter splattering out behind him, and then he was falling forward heavily. I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid his weight. He lay there unmoving and, judging by the large hole in the center of his forehead, I had the feeling that he wasn’t going to get up ever again.

Not wanting to linger in the room with the dead man, I scrambled up to my feet. Launching myself down the hall where I’d seen Logan and Joshua run down, I pushed myself as fast as I could go. I was determined to catch up with them, though I knew that fight back there with the man in black had cost me a lot of time. There was a good chance I was already too late, that they’d escaped.

Which was why I was deeply surprised to see that they had both stopped dead in their tracks at the end of the hall. And the reason why was that a pretty, sexy little woman with blonde hair and fierce blue eyes was pointing a gun—my gun—right at them.

I was shocked, remembering I had told her not only to hide, but to run if it seemed like I wasn’t going to make it. I hadn’t even noticed her come in here and I was pretty sure she had to use the same staircase I had to do it.

Pushing my shock aside, I forced myself to go faster, worry snaking its way through my system. She didn’t know what was going on. She hadn’t heard what they had said earlier. About her being a liability. She didn’t know Joshua wanted her dead—or that Logan had agreed.

As I got closer, I heard their voices. Logan was trying to talk to Madeline, trying to calm her down. I could see now that her face was ruddy and teary.

“Why would you do such terrible things?” she demanded angrily, the gun shaking in her tiny hands. “I…How could you leave me alone with Shawn? Did you know what he was going to do?”

Logan had the decency to look ashamed, but it was hardly enough to cause any sympathy on my part. I hoped it wasn’t enough to sway Madeline, either. “What? No, of course not. How could I know? I just wanted to make sure you guys stayed put, was all.”

“Stayed put?” Madeline demanded, incredulous and angry. “So, you told him to point a gun at me and make sure I didn’t go anywhere? What is wrong with you?”

He put his hands up higher, trying to show that he was no threat. But I knew better. He was dangerous and so was the silent, but ever present Joshua. I needed to get to them, now.

“I’m sorry, Madeline, really,” Logan kept trying, taking tiny steps closer and closer to his sister. He was going to go for her gun, I knew it. “All this just got crazy and—”

He reached for the gun at the same time that I shouted for Madeline to get away, to be careful. She jerked her attention towards me and that was when it all happened. Logan stole the gun from her grasp, yanking it away from her. To his credit, he didn’t whirl it back around on her and shoot, but what he did wasn’t much better. He stepped aside just as Joshua lunged for her.

His hands went to her throat, locking around the long, delicate column. She barely even had the breath to get out a half a scream. She wrapped her tiny hands around his wrists, trying to pry him from her, but it was no use. She wasn’t strong enough.

My vision blurred as terrible, sweeping anger raced through me. I wanted him dead. I wanted them both dead. I wanted to see Joshua bleed. I wanted to hear him whimper and plead and beg for his life, all the while knowing he wasn’t going to make it through the night.

A roaring yell escaped my throat, unbidden, out of control, and I pulled my gun as I ran towards them. I shot Logan first, catching him in the gut before the little trash had the chance to run or fire back. He let out a cry of anguish that I relished in, before stumbling back and hitting the wall. There, he slumped down to the floor.

The sudden shot was enough to distract Joshua long enough to pull away from Madeline. She scrambled back away from him, choking and wheezing, trying to pull in as much air into her lungs as humanly possible. Her eyes were watery and red rimmed, her neck bruised, and it only served to make me angrier.

When I reached Joshua, there was no mercy. My fist connected with his face and that first blow had him reeling. It was the first of many. I hit him again and again. Sometimes with the butt of the gun, sometimes with my bare hands. I felt my knuckles split and bruise. I felt blood that was both mine and his splatter, drops hitting my cheeks and chin, tiny spots of rapidly cooling heat. And still I didn’t stop. When he began to slump beneath my anger, I grabbed him by the neck and collar, holding him up so I could continue my assault.

It seemed like I had lost time. I couldn’t say how long I’d been hitting him, how badly I’d messed his face up. It was like Shawn all over again, but a thousand times worse.

No one touches her, I thought, and finally, after a sickening crack that came from somewhere deep within his body, I let him go.

He slumped in a bloody, mangled heap on the floor, near where Logan whimpered. Madeline’s brother bled from the wound in his gut, a wound that would eventually kill him. He was begging for his life, but these were meaningless sounds, meaningless pleas. Even if I would spare his life—which I wouldn’t, couldn’t after what I’d heard him agree to just earlier in that night—it wouldn’t matter. Short of some major surgery, he would die.

No, all that was in store for him now was pain. Lots of it. It would be a mercy to kill him now.

I wondered if Madeline would find it in her heart to see it that way.

Turning to her, I reached out hesitantly, half expecting her to flinch away from me. I knew I had to look awful in her eyes. Blood, dirt, and bruises covering my face and hands, my shirt, my hair, my pants. I was covered in it. Filthy.

But even as I reached for her with bloody, torn hands, she came to me. She ran to me, rushing into my waiting arms, sobbing and muttering incoherently. I clutched her to me tightly, ignoring the dead or dying bodies in the room, the moaning that still came from Logan’s lips and the wet, gurgling breaths that struggled to go into Joshua’s lungs.

They were already dead to me, so instead I focused on the trembling beauty in my arms. At least she was still alive.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice starting out soft, relief still coating my words. But it was growing in intensity, anger sparking. I told her to wait in the car. “How could you come in here and risk your life like that? Risk the baby’s life like that?”

I heard Logan manage to get out a surprised, “Baby?” but neither myself nor Madeline was listening by then. We only had eyes for each other.

She sobbed, coughing a little because of the way Joshua had tried so hard to strangle her. Something that would keep me angry with him for a very long time, dead or no. When she’d collected herself enough to speak, she let out a shuddering breath and told me, “I heard a shout, I thought—” She shook her head, clearly upset. I rubbed her shoulders comfortingly, not caring that two men were slumped nearby dying. I hoped they would suffer a little bit anyway before I finished the job. “I thought you were in trouble,” she finished finally and a strange feeling washed through me.

Madeline had come because she had been worried about me.

There was no question in my mind that I would save her from anything and everything I could. I would take on Mickey and Zackary and the whole lot of them if I had to, just to save Madeline. I hoped desperately that it would never come to that, but if it did, I would be ready. But it had never really occurred to me that, perhaps, the favor might be returned.

I had it in my head for a while now that she belonged to me, even before I knew she was carrying my child, but that was a one-way street in my head. Yes, she was physically attracted to me. Yes, she wanted me. And yes, she had been relieved to find me alive. But how much of that translated to something more? How much of her relief at my being alive was because I saved her from being raped?

My thoughts darkened as I remembered the way I’d found her, the way she’d screamed drawing my attention to her in the first place, and I shuddered. It had been terrifying and angering all at once, and part of me was still surprised I had let Shawn live.

If I ever saw him again, I promised myself he wouldn’t. I would let him walk now because he wasn’t a threat to Madeline anymore. She was with me and there she would stay, but the moment I saw him again, that would be the last straw. He would be a dead man walking.

“You came for me?” I repeated, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears. Joshua made a wheezing, choking sound that I ignored. He’d be gone soon enough.

She wiped at her tears, and nodded. “Yes. I know you…you told me to hide. You told me to run away if you didn’t come back, but I…I don’t want to be without you now.” Biting her lip, she looked into my eyes, something intense flickering in her clear, watery blue irises. Finally, with a helpless breath, she said, “I love you, Nikolai. I love you and I’d do anything for you. I…I couldn’t—”

She broke off again, but it didn’t matter. She’d said enough. Her words filled me, snaking their way into the deepest parts of my heart, wrapping them up and soothing them, making them hers. I belonged to her as much as she belonged to me now, and I couldn’t help but feel that was exactly how it should be. It was more than I had ever anticipated. More than I had ever dared to hope for, but here she was, her full breasts lightly pressed against me, her blue eyes daring to look into mine, her heart-shaped mouth quivering, slightly parted…

Yes, it was exactly as it should be.

Then I heard Logan whimper again, and I let out a sigh. This was the thing that had to be done and my only regret about it was that Madeline would have to be here as her brother died. As I killed him.

I hoped she could forgive me, could understand it was the thing that had to be done.

Pulling her closer to me, I tucked her beneath my chin into the crook of my arm. Her head lay against my chest, her face turned away from the bodies that would soon stop breathing altogether. Holding her, I whispered softly, sweetly into her hair, “I’m sorry for this, Madeline, but it must be done.”

I felt her tremble in my arms, but she didn’t protest as I lifted my right hand that still held the gun lightly. It was warm from being fired, the metal’s heat seeping into my skin. Madeline didn’t say anything as I aimed for her brother first, deciding to put him out of his misery—and to get rid of his continued moaning.

I aimed for his head, both for the sake of mercy and because this was an execution. A bullet between the eyes was a message to all those who crossed Mickey: Don’t.

I pulled the trigger and the shot rang out. Logan’s moaning stopped abruptly and I felt Madeline flinch in my arm, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even sob, though I sensed that she was likely crying.

That was okay. I couldn’t deny her that, too.

Next, I turned to Joshua. Part of me wished he would be conscious for this. That he would see me, the very last thing he would ever see, as I raised the gun to his head and got ready to pull the trigger.

The rest of me didn’t care. I had made him suffer, made him bleed, and that was enough. Enough only because now he would be dead. Neither he, nor Logan, could ever hurt anyone ever again.

I fired. Madeline flinched again. Then it was done, and we were left standing in the eerie, echoing silence of the place. I was aware of how much she’d been through tonight, and I commended her silently for her bravery. Lesser women would not have fared so well.

She was strong, though, and it made me cling to her all the tighter.

***

We drove back to the motel first. I was going to take her home, but acknowledged that there was cleanup to be taken care of. Mickey had guys for that, though I rarely required them. I was usually very clean, efficient, but this particular job had turned out to be messier and much more complicated than I ever could have predicted.

Madeline dozed on and off during the drive. I had the heat turned up full blast, making sure she stayed as warm and as comfortable as possible. She’d been shivering as we left the warehouse, though it was impossible to say if it was due to cold or lingering aftershocks of her endeavor. It was likely the latter, I admitted to myself.

I made a point to stop a couple of different times to allow her breaks—for the bathroom, to get drinks or snacks, or even just to walk around and stretch her legs—since we were so far from the city. She likely just wanted to go home, but there were things I had to take care of and I wanted to make sure she was comfortable anyway.

We pulled into the driveway of the Market Town Inn. As far as I could tell, nothing had changed since the last time I’d been there. I peeked into the lobby and saw the same attendant was there, but now his head was tipped back, his magazine slipping off his lap, and his mouth hanging open. He was snoring, fast asleep.

I shook my head, and ignored him. Madeline followed close behind me as I made my way down the row of doors towards Room #102 where I’d left Shawn tied up and gagged.

I had told her to wait in the car, but she’d protested. She said she didn’t want to leave me alone, but I sensed it was that she didn’t want to be left alone. She wasn’t thrilled with being in this place, and was probably even less thrilled with finding Shawn. I couldn’t blame her, and I wouldn’t tell her I’d wanted her to stay so I could put a bullet between his eyes, too.

There had been a lot of bloodshed tonight and I didn’t want her to see any more. So with her at my side, I wasn’t sure I’d go through with it, but it turned out that it didn’t matter what my decision would have been.

When we reached the room, we saw the door was hanging open again, still attached by only one hinge. I’d closed it—as best I could anyway—and the fact that it was open again meant someone had been in there. Motioning for Madeline to be quiet, I stepped into the room, searching the place.

The bathroom door was open and I could see already Shawn was gone.

The gag lay on the floor next to the cord I’d used to tie him up. I sighed a little in disappointment, but found myself not too concerned with the whole thing. He wouldn’t be back. Not ever. And if he did show up, well, I’d just kill him like I should have before.

“He’s gone,” Madeline whispered, and I couldn’t tell if there was fright or relief in her voice. Maybe she knew what my intentions had been the entire time.

I put my arms around her shoulders and held her close. “It’s all right. He won’t be back. He’ll never show his face in the city again, not so long as I’m there.”

She said nothing after that, just let me hold her.

Chapter 33

Madeline

It was only another hour’s drive back to the city, plus a little extra to get to Nikolai’s apartment. I would have maybe argued about going to his place instead of mine, but I was exhausted. It had been a long night, a long day, and a long week before that. Besides, if I were really being honest with myself, I didn’t want to argue.

I wanted to go home with him.

But as we headed towards his apartment, pulling into a lower level garage beneath the building, I found a little bit of dread and sadness working its way through me. I didn’t just want to come home with Nikolai tonight; I wanted to go home with him every night. I wanted more from him than just a one-night stand, and I was sure I had made myself pretty clear about that.

I had told him I loved him, more than anything, and while he’d been sweet and held me—even as he killed Joshua and my brother—he hadn’t returned the sentiment. That knowledge burned inside me, twisting my insides, torturing me.

I didn’t know what I would do when he tried to let me down gently, told me that, while he clearly wanted something to do with the baby, he didn’t feel that way about me.

He parked his car and I let out a sigh of relief. I was ready to be out of the car and into bed. I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning my head back against the leather interior, just taking a moment to breathe in and out. A moment later, my door opened, Nikolai holding it and offering me his free hand.

I blinked at him, but offered a shy smile as I let him help me up out of the car. Still holding my hand, he took me to the elevator that led to his floor. On the ride up, he kept his arm around me protectively—or possessively? —until the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Then he escorted me inside.

Plopping me down on the comfortable couch, I thought I could sleep right then and there. As though sensing my thoughts, Nikolai told me, “Don’t go to sleep, not yet. We need to get you checked out, make sure you’re all right. Then you can lay down.”

Though it was difficult, I forced myself to stay seated up right, waiting for him as he headed into the bathroom. My mind flashed to when he’d taken me in the shower. I’d still been a little sore from our first time together—my first time ever—but I’d relished his touch, been eager for it even. He’d been both demanding and sweetly tender.

I didn’t know sex would feel like that, both rough and soft at the same time.

Nikolai came back with peroxide, bandages, an ice pack, and a glass of water along with two little white pills. I eyed them suspiciously, but he only smirked at me.

“Aspirin,” he explained.

I laughed a little at myself, then remembered again how my throat was sore and scratchy. I gingerly touched my neck, wincing as I imagined how bad it must look. How there were probably marks where Joshua had tried to choke me.

Nikolai’s eyes turned dark. “The aspirin will help. Here.”

He gave me the water and the pills, and I swallowed, though it was difficult going down. Still, I knew he was right.

“I’ll make you some tea in a little bit. The water’s boiling now. It’ll help with the soreness.”

Before I could tell him I was fine or even try to protest, he fixed me with a pointed look as though letting me know that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not on this. So, I remained silent and did as he said.

Using a cotton ball and peroxide, he cleaned up the small cuts I’d managed to get throughout the night. Mostly from my struggle with Shawn, I was sure, but I didn’t want to think about that. I looked down at my lap, my face burning. It had been a lot to take in and I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope when Nikolai was out of my life.

When he finished, putting up the peroxide and the cotton balls, the teakettle whistled. He went up to get it and I knew it was time for me to go. He’d been so kind to me, but I couldn’t take this, not his sweetness and then him breaking my heart. It would just make it hurt all the more.

So, I stood. I made it halfway to the door, telling him, “I should probably go. I’ll call a cab and—”

But in what felt like two smooth strides he was in front of me, blocking the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, home. You’ve been really kind, but I should—”

Again, he interrupted me. “Madeline, you are home.”

My eyebrows shot up at that, my eyes widening. “You mean...?”

He let out a small sigh, but a smile tugged at his lips as he pulled me into his strong arms. “I mean I love you and I’m going to marry you, Madeline. You belong to me. I thought I told you that already.”

I bit my lip, daring to hope. Could he really? Could he love me like that? And then I remembered, the baby. Was this really about me or did he just want to be a daddy bad enough to put up with a little extra baggage like the mother?

Hesitant, not sure I wanted to know the answer, I let out a whoosh of air and asked the question that lingered on the tip of my tongue, “But…is it me you love? Or is this all just because of the baby?”

I held my breath, worried, terrified of his answer, but when his eyes darkened and he jerked me to him tightly, pressing me solidly against his chest, I released that breath and a moment later, I couldn’t breathe at all.

His lips were fused to mine, drinking me in. All the passion in the world was contained in that one kiss, fire shooting through me, embracing me, consuming me. My skin was alight with everything he was feeling—feelings that mirrored my own—and I knew without a doubt that he loved me. Loved me for me and nothing else.

I felt as though I could drown in him, consumed by passion.

This was it. Here was where I was meant to be, where I would spend the rest of my life. In Nikolai’s arms.

THE END

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[FREE BONUS NOVEL] SINS: Devil’s Horns MC

By Sophia Gray

He will mark me with his sins… and fill me with his baby.

Grant Reardon is heaven and hell in a single sexy package.

He’s the key to finding my missing daughter… and the only thing standing in my way.

I try to ignore him – I need his help, not his domination.

But when he takes me in his arms, the temptation to submit overwhelms everything else.

My adopted daughter Sage disappeared without a trace.

I suspect her biker boyfriend and his stupid motorcycle club are the ones to blame.

Sage is my jewel, my precious, my world.

I have to find her.

I won’t rest until I do.

But no one will give me answers.

Mouths stay sealed and doors stay closed…

Until one door opens that should never have done so.

Framed in his entryway, Grant is like something out of a nightmare…

A steamy, feverish nightmare.

He’s rippling muscle and midnight-black tattoos.

He’s swagger and filth and a toe-curling rumble.

He’s everything I should stay far away from.

Too bad I have no way to go but forward.

He tells me to get lost, that Sage is not coming back.

But I can’t just stop looking.

Finally, I convince him to help me.

We take up the hunt, side by side, desperately trying to stave off the inevitable:

Me begging him to take me rough, take me hard, take me until I can’t take anymore.

He promises me we’ll find my daughter and that everything will be okay.

But sometimes, hell is the person who promises you heaven.

Chapter 1

Victoria

My head felt ready to explode, and my rug was going to sport holes from all of the pacing I was doing. For days, my anxiety and worry had been increasing, and now it was reaching a fever pitch.

My cell dug into my palm as I turned the corner for another circuit of my pacing. I had called all of Sage’s friends, all of my friends, everyone I could possibly think of. I had talked and asked questions and talked some more, enough to start losing my voice, but it didn’t matter. I hadn’t learned anything. Not even one lead.

Sage had disappeared without a trace, just upped and vanished.

My Sage. My beautiful daughter.

My beautiful adopted daughter. Half the time, I didn’t bother with that distinction, but when I had to file the missing person’s report, I had to mention that tidbit. Blood or not, she was my daughter, and she was all I had.

It had been five days—five long and trying days—since I last heard from her. She hadn’t been here when I came back from work. The nineteen-year-old was nowhere to be found.

Abruptly, I stopped my pacing and tried calling her best friend one more time, but Corinne didn’t answer. Yet again. She hadn’t answered any of my calls. At first, I hoped that meant she was with Sage, that the two of them had gone off somewhere together, that it wasn’t a big deal. A spur of the moment trip or girls’ getaway. But that hadn’t been the case. I became so desperate to get ahold of Corinne that I called up her mom. Turned out Corinne had gone on vacation with her boyfriend. Still, my hope refused to die. Maybe Sage had gone with them. Nope. Corinne’s mom said they’d left a week ago, but Sage had still been around then, so no dice.

Out of desperation, I dialed Sage for the hundredth, if not the thousandth, time. Like all the other times, it went straight to voicemail. She had a terrible habit of letting the battery run almost all the way down, and she had five or six chargers since she was always misplacing them, but if she didn’t have one, I’d never be able to get through to her unless she bought another one. Most likely, her phone was dead.

But was she dead, too? Of course, my mind went straight to the worst scenario. I loved Sage like she was my own child. Yeah, there were only eight years between us, but Sage had been mine ever since she turned fourteen. For five years, it had been the two of us. I tended to think of my life as before Sage and after. Before, my life had been nothing but quiet. With Sage, there was so much laughter and talking and even arguing, too. So much noise and music. Now, it was back to the quiet, and I never realized before just how unnerving it could be.

For years, my life had been devoted to my job. I gradually worked my way up the ladder and owned a restaurant. Sage’s mom used to work for me as a waitress until she ended up landing herself in jail. I knew she had been going down a dark path, and I’d hoped she would do the right thing for her daughter by keeping her employed despite her lack of work ethic, but that hadn’t been the case.

When she worked nights, she used to bring Sage into work. When I realized they were living out of their car, I had Quinn, my main chef, cook up meals for the girl to enjoy. It was the least I could do. I even helped her out with her homework a few times in between running the show. We got along better than she did with her mom. The two of them hardly ever spoke. I thought she embarrassed Sage, and honestly, I kind of was, too. If you saw the way she draped herself over guys to try to get tips…On more than one occasion I had to remind her she was serving customers who sat at a table, not dancing on top of the table, and if she didn’t stop, I would have to fire her because that was unacceptable. And then she would do better and behave for a little while until she wouldn’t.

Once her mom got arrested, things got really rocky for Sage, but it wasn’t until her mom wound up in jail serving her sentence that things really hit a low point. The idea of Sage being tossed to the wolves—I mean the state—tore me up. Starting about a month before the arrest, Sage came to the restaurant every day, even when her mom hadn’t been working. Her mom preferred her drugs too much to be much good at anything, whether being a waitress or being a mother. Just a few months prior to her sentencing, I had hired Sage as a dishwasher, and she proved to be a more devoted employee than her mom had been, though she did have a habit of talking too much instead of working. The two of us connected in a way she never had with her mom.

Adopting her had been a no-brainer. My own father had been a deadbeat, and my mom did everything she could for me until she died of a heart attack a few months after I turned eighteen, so I knew what it was like to be alone. I knew what it was like to have no one to look out for me except for myself. Life had dealt her a terrible hand, but that didn’t mean she should have limited options. Plus, I saw a lot of potential in her. I hadn’t let my trials prevent me from achieving my goals. I could be a business owner and a mom, too. I had the funds, the drive, and the determination.

I didn’t need a lot to make me happy, and I sure didn’t need a guy to make me happy. It was just Sage and me. We were more like sisters, considering our age difference. For five years now, I was her mom. I hadn’t even gone out on a lot of dates because guys didn’t want a woman with a kid. Okay, so maybe I used her as an excuse sometimes.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to date, but it always became the same old song and dance. Each one loved the idea of dating a businesswoman…at first. But when it meant time away from them and then being too tired for them after I spent all day long arguing with vendors or advertisers or dealing with customers or employees, they never asked for a long-term commitment, which was fine by me. I wasn’t ready to commit, not to any of them, at least. The number of guys calling me lately had diminished down to nothing, and it didn’t bother me any. It seriously didn’t.

Or maybe they couldn’t accept dating a woman with more ambition than they had ever possessed. Maybe I intimidated them. I could be a little, well, intense at times. “A little overbearing,” Sage called me a few times, and she might be right about that. I liked things to be done correctly, properly. Was that too much to ask? Have set goals and plans made things run smoother. It just did.

All of the guys who did have ambition were already taken. Of course. I had prioritized my career over having a family, but did that mean I had bypassed my chance at finding someone? If it had, oh well. I had a daughter. What more did I need?

But while I hadn’t dated anyone recently, Sage had. She was a gorgeous young lady, and she made guys’ heads turn. I tried to instill in her a sense of independence, to get her to see value in her own life so she didn’t need to rely on anyone else, especially a guy, but that was one area where she and I didn’t see eye to eye. Ever since middle school, she had had one boyfriend and hopped from him to another and another and so on, with one guy in particular being her “go-to.” Maybe her real mom hadn’t given her enough attention so she craved it elsewhere. But it bothered me. She shouldn’t define herself based on a relationship. She had the potential for so much more than just settling for being some guy’s girlfriend.

I wouldn’t be surprised at all if her disappearance had something to do with a guy. Her current boyfriend was Trenton Young, a twenty-two-year-old who I hadn’t liked from the beginning, and he was the one she had dated longer than any of the others combined. He was a member of the motorcycle club Devil’s Horns.

He was also bad news.

Sage couldn’t see it, though. He wasn’t just a bad apple; he was a rotten one. But she was blinded by love. It wasn’t love. Maybe it was lust, but whatever it was, it wasn’t healthy. I liked to think that if she had picked a good guy, one with a promising future, I would have encouraged the relationship, but I couldn’t in good conscience sanction the one between her and Trenton. Between the way Trenton treated both Sage and me, and also the way she treated me when she was around him, it wasn’t good. She became moody and sullen and disrespectful, a completely new person.

Only once had Sage talked to me about her father, and it sounded like he had been just like mine, a deadbeat who never spent even one second caring for or loving his daughter. While my mom had grown up and matured from the need to have a guy when she had been left to raise me all alone, Sage’s mom had a string of bad relationships, one right after the other. It was no small wonder that Sage had followed at least partially in her mother’s footsteps, and Trenton was a bad relationship, that was for sure.

The only major issue I had with Sage—aside from her poor taste in guys—was her schooling. She had dropped out of high school and refused to go. Wouldn’t even bother to study and just get her GED. It had been a year after her mom went to jail that she dropped out. She told me she couldn’t stand the looks and the whispers about her mom, and I understood that. I really did. But when I suggested she go to a different school, she didn’t want to hear about it. That girl could argue with the best of them.

“They’ll find out about my mom soon enough, and it’ll start all over again,” she had said.

“You could take my last name,” I had suggested.

But she had shaken her head. “You’re young yet. You’ll have kids of your own. You’ll leave them the restaurant. As it should be. I appreciate you taking me in, but…”

She never did finish that statement.

Basically, she didn’t quite view me as her mom. And I guessed I was wearing a lot of hats considering I wasn’t just her mother but I was also her boss at the restaurant, even if she wasn’t a waitress and only did the dishes. She only ever called me mom when she wanted something—a dress, a purse, shoes, some money—which hurt, but I could understand it to some extent. Her mom had scarred her, and she didn’t want to let me in, afraid of letting me get too close in case I hurt her, too. Still, that in and of itself hurt me. She didn’t trust me. I gave her shelter and clothes and food, but that was basically all I was to her. In my mind, she was my daughter, but in her mind, there were times I was just a nag. For the most part, though, we got along.

It was only a month after she’d dropped out of high school that she got mixed up with a bad crowd, one that included Trenton Young. They had been on and off ever since, and even though I inwardly cheered each time they went off, they always ended up getting back together again. I guessed Trenton might’ve had someone else in between their stints, and I knew for certain Sage did. What she saw in Trenton that kept her going back to him I wasn’t sure.

It was only because they had been together for so long that I had his phone number. Not all of her boyfriends—she had a quite a few during her “off” times with Trenton—had she shared their number with me.

Having nothing to lose, I called Trenton next, but he didn’t answer his phone either. His voicemail greeting—Trenton here. Too busy to talk. Leave a message and I might get back to ya.—grated on me.

Wannabe tough guy. If he’s why Sage’s gone, if he’s done anything to her, he’ll learn the definition of tough from me. I swear to heaven.

My cell was almost dead. Great. I put my phone on the charger and was just beginning to pace in my crammed living room when my cell rang. Practically diving for it, I answered with a breathless, “Hello? Sage?”

“Victoria? It’s Corinne.”

“Corinne!” My voice sounded strained. I cleared my throat. “Have you heard from Sage?” My voice still sounded strained. Maybe it would until Sage was found. Blood rushed to my ears, and my heart pounded hard in my chest as I awaited her answer. Please let her have seen Sage or know where she is. Please!

“Not in a week,” Corinne answered. “Sorry. I’ve been out of town. Jack and I went to the beach, and we found this cute little cove and—”

“That’s all right,” I cut in. I really didn’t need to know what exactly happened in that “cute little cove.”

Sage’s best friend had no filter. Corinne tended to go into great details about everything, and that included her sex life. I didn’t care to hear about that at all, and she wasn’t the best of influences on Sage, but at least she had never broken a law—outside of sex in public places—and she had never been in jail, so she had that much going for her. Considering I hated her boyfriend, I figured it was one of those pick your battles type deals. I was all right with Corinne if it meant Sage would stop being with Trenton. Not that that had worked in my favor.

“Did she tell you about where she would be going?” I asked in a rush. “Did she have a trip lined up and she forgot to tell me?”

“Nah.”

My heart sank, and my knees went weak. I sank to the floor, my phone still plugged into the charger. Corinne had been the last person for me to get ahold of. She had been my last chance at finding them. Well, outside of Trenton. I had really thought and hoped she had been with Corinne, or that Corinne would at least know where she was.

So where was she? Where had she gone? Why hadn’t she told Corinne? She shared every detail with her best friend. Why start to keep secrets from everyone now? Maybe it hadn’t been a planned trip. Sage could be a little impulsive at times, just never to this extent before. She always left me a voicemail or a physical note to let me know where she was. Her mom had disappeared too many times on her so that was one thing Sage had almost prided herself on. Even if she was going to a party she knew I wouldn’t approve of, she would still let me know she was going.

So maybe it hadn’t been planned. Maybe something serious had come up. Like what, though? What would keep her radio silent for five whole days? It just didn’t add up. Something was wrong. Call it mother’s instinct.

My growing fear kept me silent, but that never bothered Corinne. She just kept right on talking.

“Sage and Trenton have no money. They planned on staying low key, far as I knew. Couldn’t even afford to go out to dinner or nothing. We, Jack and I, just got back, and I was about to call her, but then I got your messages and thought I’d call you first. You know, your voice goes kinda high-pitched when you’re upset. You sound like a—”

“Try calling Sage,” I urged, even though I figured her calls would go straight to voicemail, too. I didn’t need to know what I sounded like. I needed Corinne to stay focused. “Maybe she’ll call you back, and this will all just be a big misunderstanding. I mean, she didn’t tell you anything to make you think that she’ll be leaving, right? She wasn’t home when I came back from work five days ago, and no one has heard or seen from her or Trenton ever since.”

Actually, I didn’t know for sure about the Trenton bit. Maybe he was hanging around his place. Maybe he and she split, and Sage needed some time by herself.

But still, why hadn’t she called me?

And I was rambling. Corinne tended to ramble all the time. Who knew it would rub off on people.

“Nope,” Corinne said. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be of more help. I haven’t a clue where she might be. Which is kinda strange. I mean, she tells me everything, even told me before she told you that she had gotten back together with Trenton this last time. Anyhow, I’m sure she’s fine—”

“It’s been five days,” I growled, “with no phone calls or emails or anything. No communication at all. With technology making communication easier than ever, I’m freaking out and rightfully so. Sage isn’t like this. She doesn’t check in all the time, but she’s never been gone this long before, and I’m worried.”

“Chill, Victoria.” Corinne laughed, but this was no laughing matter. Couldn’t she see that? “I’m sure she’s fine,” she repeated.

“If you hear from her, will you call me?” I asked, almost pleading.

“Of course. But seriously, stop being so uptight.” A strange smacking sound came over the line. Maybe she was chewing gum. “Get laid or something. You’ll feel better.”

“Right,” I said dryly. Because that was going to happen. I didn’t need to spread my legs. I needed to find my daughter. “Can you call her and then call me right back, please?”

She blew out a breath. “Fine, but you’re making a mole hill out of nothing.”

I frowned. “You mean a mountain out of a mole hill.”

“Nope. A mole hill out of nothing. There’s nothing here. So Sage isn’t answering your calls. Just means she’s busy, that’s all.”

“Just call her,” I ordered, and hung up.

I waited on pins and needs for Corinne to call back. Which she did. Almost immediately. Which meant…

“Voicemail?” I asked without even saying hello first.

“You got it. Still doesn’t mean anything,” she said.

Sighing, I hung up again. This time, I called the police station, but they hadn’t gotten any farther than I had.

“We’ll let you know,” the officer said, the same one who I had been talking to all along, an Officer Steve Jenkins. He was young and honestly didn’t seem to be that competent, or maybe I was being unfair. I couldn’t tell. “As soon as we make any headway, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t organize a search?” I asked, desperate to feel useful, desperate to do anything that might help speed up the process of finding Sage and bringing her home safe and sound.

Ever since I first realized she was gone, I had been plagued by terrible nightmares. I’d see images of her body cut into ribbons, of her being throw into the river, of her being involved in a fatal car crash, of her being cold and scared and alone and terrified. Heck, I was scared and alone and terrified.

“I advise against it, ma’am,” he said calmly. How could he be so calm? “You don’t want to impede our investigation.”

What investigation? I wanted to scream. Were they even doing anything? I knew our small town in the south didn’t have a lot going for it, and that there had been a suspected murder a month ago they still hadn’t solved so they were more concerned with that, and rightfully so, but still. This was my daughter we were talking about.

I basically hung up on the officer and sighed again, wearily rubbing a hand down my face. My stomach was all twisted into knots, and the heavy feeling in my chest wouldn’t go away. I had adopted her to give Sage her best chance at life. I wouldn’t rest until I succeeded.

Running off with Trenton Young wasn’t her best option, if that had been what she’d done. Did she know that? Had she done it anyway? Did she not bother to tell me because she knew I wouldn’t approve? I knew she was nineteen, that she could technically do what she wanted, but she had always kept me in the loop. And she told Corinne everything. If Corinne didn’t know where she had run off to—and Corinne, bless her, couldn’t lie if her life depended on it—that made me fear she hadn’t gone off willingly.

What if she tried to break things off with Trenton and he hadn’t taken it well? What if he had kidnapped her? If he had hurt her at all, he’d better hope I never found him, because when I did, I would make him regret it. I had told the police about her relationship with Trenton, how it was toxic, and they had taken down notes, but I didn’t know if they had followed up on that lead. Should I call back and press? Find out if Trenton had been seen recently?

Regardless of whether or not Sage had gone willingly, I just wanted to make sure she was all right. I was bound and determined to get to the bottom of what happened to her. One way or another, with or without the police’s help, I would find her.

Now that I had finally gotten ahold of Corinne and she’d turned out to be a dead end, Trenton Young and the Devil’s Horns were my best lead. Her disappearance most likely was because of the cursed motorcycle club.

Sage often went to an apartment complex called The Shades to be with Trenton. It was downtown and not at all in a good area, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I grabbed my cell—only about half charged—and my keys and purse and dashed out of the house and to my car. Traffic was brutal, and a car almost rear-ended me. I swore my luck was at a serious low point right now. It took me almost an hour to reach The Shades.

I had never been here before and my heart sunk at the sight of it. It was a terrible building, with peeling paint, broken windows, and graffiti. No lines marked the parking spots, and the cars already parked weren’t in the best of shape with dents or duct tape and plastic to cover up a busted window. Around the side, some of the cars were nicer, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they belonged to drug dealers, because, man, did I smell some strong marijuana and other druggie whiffs as soon as I left my car. I never touched drugs myself, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t recognize the scent of them.

Sage had come here how many times to be with Trenton? The thought made my stomach churn even more. She deserved better. I’d never forget the first time she introduced Trenton to me.

He’d been wearing a wife beater and holey jeans, way down low over his hips. He had tattoos, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—who doesn’t love a guy with some ink? Except his ink left a lot to be desired. If you couldn’t afford to have a decent tattoo artist, it was better to not bother to get inked at all, and Trenton was walking proof of that. I was talking about a misspelling and mousy-looking lion instead of a fierce one. A fierce lion could be hot. His made him look like a punk.

But Sage had been all smiles as she introduced him to me, and like a good mother, I held out my hand for him to shake. Not only did he ignore it, but he walked past me, into my house, and asked where the fridge was because he was hungry.

Sage had given me a sheepish grin and trailed after him. She ended up making him a sandwich, and then he ate it all just as she finished making herself one. He took one look at it, and Sage wordlessly gave it to him, and he polished that one off, too, before she even could eat one herself. The man—he acted more like a kid than a man, but he was twenty-two so it felt weird to think of him as a boy—seemed like he should be back in the fifties. Wanted Sage to wait on him. Acted like he was the important one and she had to do his bidding. Gave her just enough attention for her to not realize what a jerk he was.

That night, after he had left, Sage had held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said.

“Hear what?” I had asked innocently.

“Your opinion.” She’d crossed her arms.

I had cocked my head to the side. “If you don’t want to hear it, it’s because you already know what I think. And don’t you agree?” I’d so hoped she would agree, but of course she didn’t.

“You don’t know him,” she’d protested weakly.

“And I don’t want—”

“He makes me happy,” she’d said quietly. And dang it all if there wasn’t something in her eye that suggested she spoke the truth. But how? How could someone like that rear of a wannabe man make her happy? “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“Of course, but I—”

“He takes care of me,” she’d added.

I had wanted to argue that she could take care of herself, but she had been smiling, and her happiness did seem genuine, and he hadn’t done anything nasty or mean or abusive toward her, so I let it go.

Now I was kicking myself for not speaking up more, for not giving her grief, for not doing everything in my power to open her eyes. Yeah, it might have only pushed her away from me and closer to him, but if she realized just how little he obviously cared for her outside of what she could do for him, she might be home right now. She might be with a man I approved of, one who saw what a treasure she was, one who enriched her life. The kind of guy she deserved.

Maybe some of it was my fault. Since I didn’t bother to date a guy more than once or twice, she never had the chance to see a healthy relationship. Maybe her mother’s guys left Sage thinking terrible relationships were the only relationships you could have. Hollywood certainly reinforced that with so many movies about cheaters and broken marriages. Sure they would have a happily ever after at the end, but everyone knew those guys were perfect and complete fairytales.

Okay, so maybe I was a cynic myself, but I did know there was more to a woman’s worth than what she could provide for a guy. I had been trying to reinforce that into her mind for years now, basically since I took her in. The problem was that Sage didn’t see her own self-worth. One time, a few months after the adoption had been made official, I had found her crying in her bed late at night. It took her several minutes to calm down enough to tell me what was going on. Basically, she hated herself because her mother had picked drugs over her. And I wasn’t proud of my response, but I talked a lot of smack about her mom. Her mother had damaged Sage, and I did my best to try to heal her. Sage refused to see a therapist, so I had to be mom and boss and therapist and friend all in one. I did the best I could, but now I was trying to figure out where I had failed her.

There had been only so much I could do, though. After all, I couldn’t live her life for her. She would grow up and make mistakes and hopefully learn from them. God knew I made a lot of mistakes myself.

Hopefully this was all just a mistake, and not one that would cost Sage something dear.

I parked, locked my car, and held my purse tight to me. I wasn’t the kind of woman to own a gun, but right now, I wished I did have one. I’d feel safer if I did.

I kept my eyes peeled, looking all around as I made my way to the front door of the apartment complex. The parking lot was almost full, but I didn’t see Trenton’s car. That didn’t surprise me. I had a strong hunch that he hadn’t been around for as long as Sage’s been gone. I wanted to confirm that, or, better yet, I wanted to find him, and Sage, too.

The stench of garbage, drugs, and body odor could’ve knocked me over as soon as I opened the front door and stepped inside. A shiver ran down my spine. I did not want to be here. Something seemed off about this place, but that just had to be my imagination, right? Either way, this place was the pits.

But what else could I do? What other option did I have? The police hadn’t even been sure I needed to file a missing person’s report yet considering I contacted them as soon as I saw Sage wasn’t home and hadn’t answered her cell. They assured me they were doing everything they could, but they had to be busy with other pressing matters, and honestly, I wasn’t making any major headway myself, and this was my only pressing matter. Yeah, sure, I wasn’t an investigator, but I was the one most desperate to find her.

Sage and I hadn’t even fought recently. We had been on really good terms—mostly because I had kept my mouth shut this time around with her latest re-hook up with Trenton. I had been trying to get her to prove herself at the restaurant. I desperately wanted to promote her to being a waitress, but I also didn’t want to play favorites, and honestly, she didn’t deserve it yet. She just wanted to be a girl, to not have a lot of responsibilities, and I understood that. She had to shoulder a lot and basically had to take care of herself for a long time before her mom ended up in jail. Her childhood hadn’t been ideal, and now she was trying to be a typical rebellious teen. She had never gotten into any real trouble, so I couldn’t complain too much.

Or maybe I had given her too much of a leash because I wasn’t a fit mother. I had a lot of sleepless nights when I first decided to adopt her. I had only babysat for one summer before I started at the restaurant as a waitress and started my way up the ladder almost immediately, making my way up to hostess at eighteen and then to manager by twenty. Two years later, I was the owner. I was a go getter. One day, Sage would be one, too.

I hoped.

I closed the door to the apartment complex behind me and appraised the long hallway lined with doors. Now the only question I had was how to figure out which apartment was Trenton’s.

Loud music blasted from the door on the right. I knocked, but no one answered. They probably couldn’t hear me, so I knocked again, harder and longer this time, but still no one answered. I wasn’t about to try the doorknob because who knew what kind of person or people might be on the other side, so I kept on walking down the hall, knocking on doors.

Always the same result. No one answered.

To say I was getting frustrated would be an epic understatement.

Not sure what else to do, I headed back toward the front door. Maybe I could learn who the landlord was and find out Trenton’s apartment’s number from him. Maybe I could even convince him to use his key to open the door. He had to have a skeleton key, right? Hopefully the landlord was an okay guy. Given the state of the place, he allowed his tenants to trash the place, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were bugs creeping around. If he didn’t care about the building, he probably didn’t give a rat’s rear who he had living inside the walls, so long as he got his money. Well, if he wanted money, I had some squared away. I could give him a Benjamin and maybe then he would be willing to help me out.

Through the window, I spied an old car rolling up. It took the driver a few times to squeeze into a spot and then climb out. It was an older woman. She was the first soul I’d seen since I arrived. Hopefully she would be willing to answer a few questions.

Trying my best not to get my hopes up and failing, I opened the door and walked out to her. “Excuse me. Hi. I’m Victoria Klein. I’m looking for Sage Farron. Do you know her? She’s—”

“The girl of that Trenton Young fellow.” The woman eyed me, tilting her head to the side. Her permed white hair didn’t budge. Her eyes were shrewd, and I found myself a little unnerved to be the subject of her scrutiny.

“Yes. Have you seen her recently? Or him, for that matter?” I held my breath as I waited for her answer.

“Why you asking? They owe you money or something?” She sounded so disgusted I had to grimace. She didn’t care for Trenton, or Sage, and that made my heart hurt.

“No. Nothing like that,” I said to reassure her. “Sage’s my daughter.”

Her light eyebrows shot up, and she looked me up and down. “You’re not old enough to be her mother.” The disapproval in her tone and her pursed lips that caused thousands of tiny wrinkles to appear left me agitated. She wasn’t the first to cast judgment on me once they learned I was Sage’s mother. They figured I must’ve gotten knocked up at thirteen. I could see it in their eyes, and this woman clearly thought it, too. I hated their judgment, resented their assumptions. Even if I had Sage while really young, what business was it of theirs?

But I couldn’t lash out at her. I swallowed my pride and offered her a tight smile. “Adopted mother,” I clarified, my cheeks flushing. “Please. She hasn’t come home, and I’m worried about her.”

“You should be.” She wagged a gnarled finger at me. “That Trenton boy. Didn’t you discourage that? He’s not good for her, not good for anyone.” The old woman shook her head, lips still pursed.

I grimaced but tried to keep my cool. I really didn’t need her judgment, but I really did need her help. “I did discourage it, but there’s only so much I can do. Do you have children?”

The woman finally relaxed her pursed lips. After a long moment, she slowly nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Kids, daughters especially, tend to do whatever they want, which is often the opposite of what you want it to be. They’re trying little brats. Oh yes, there are those who claim their gifts, but, honestly, they can try even a saint’s soul.”

My impatience burst through. I didn’t need her to ramble on about kids. I needed to know about one kind in particular—my daughter. Tapping my foot and crossing my arms, I asked, “Have you seen either of them?”

She rubbed her chin. She had a few whiskers. She had to be in her seventies. The woman kept squinting at me as if she couldn’t see me even though I was standing right in front of her. The idea of her driving did not sit well with me, but that she hadn’t answered my question yet sat even worse. The woman nodded again, the movement halting. “I think I saw them a week ago,” she said. “Yes. They were talking and laughing. Actually looked happy for once. Sometimes they would argue, quite loudly at that. Your girl can be headstrong.”

“Don’t I know it.” I grinned despite myself. Sage had showed determination and patience when she wanted to. Like the fancy blue gown she wanted for prom. I told her if she saved up for half of it, I would pay for the rest. She ended up saving for all of it, so I bought her heels and a purse. She could be mature and responsible. If only she picked better friends. Corinne wasn’t the best of influences, but I’d pick her over Trenton any day of the week. She just needed to continue to set goals for herself because when she did, she shattered them. “A week ago,” I repeated glumly. A week meant I had seen her after that point. Dang it. “Exactly a week?” I pressed. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. I saw them walk into his apartment. I had come home from playing bingo. I didn’t win anything. Not that time. I swear it’s rigged. I won every week for the first month that I started going, but ever since, not once. Not one time! They just want my money. They rig it so you win at first, just enough to hook you in, and then they rig it so you lose and—”

“Which apartment is his?” I interrupted, not wanting to be impolite but wanting answers badly enough to risk offending her.

“Rude,” she huffed under her breath. “Interrupting like a no good…Number 352. His friends dominate that entire floor. Not any of them are any good. They’re so loud and obnoxious and just plain bad news. I’ve thought about calling the police on them a few times, but I’m too scared of them to. Maybe I should call anonymously. But if they did trace it back to me—”

“Sage isn’t like that,” I said, sliding toward the front door.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The woman shrugged. She coughed slightly into a trembling hand. Sounded deep and tight to me, like a smoker’s cough. “I’m Georgia Henderson. I live in 212.”

“Thank you, Georgia,” I said warmly. Overtalker or not, she had given me some help, and I was so appreciative for that. “If you could call me or the police if you see her, I would be so grateful.” I dug into my purse and removed a slip of paper. I jotted down my number and handed it to her.

Georgia looked it over and nodded. “I will. I am sorry you can’t find her, and I do hope she’s all right.”

“She probably is.” I forced a smile. “Maybe they went on a vacation and don’t have cell access. A spur of the moment type deal.”

But I didn’t believe it. Sage wasn’t the kind of girl to not check in. The longest she’d gone between checking in when she had gone away on vacation with Corinne had been two days. Two days compared to five. And I knew there was no way she would deliberately not check in.

I could’ve understood if we had fought and she rebelled to get away from me, but we had gone out for ice cream the night before she disappeared. Just the two of us. We had talked and laughed. It had been wonderful. I teased her about her ability to eat like a teenage boy. She teased me back about my slow metabolism and how I’d better watch how much ice cream I ate or else I’d blow up like a whale. A girls’ night.

Sage had wanted to watch a movie once we got home, but I had to get up early for work, had a meeting, so I declined, something I was now majorly regretting. Had she been reaching out to me and I hadn’t realized it? What if Trenton had crossed the line and she needed me to help her push him away and move on for good this time? I thought Trenton was bad for her, but I didn’t think he had ever been abusive toward her. If he had been, well, I would find out if I looked good in prison orange.

The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced Trenton had played a role in her disappearance. This just wasn’t like her at all.

Moving quickly, I turned the doorknob and reentered the apartment complex. I didn’t even say goodbye to Georgia, and I didn’t bother to hold the door open for her either. I just ran up the stairs to the third floor and hurried down the hall until I found his apartment. Taking a deep breath, I screwed up my courage and knocked.

No answer.

I put my ear to the door. I couldn’t hear anything. Trenton wasn’t here. Not a surprise, but I still felt let down.

I knocked again. I pounded again and again until my fist started to hurt and even then I kept on knocking.

“Trenton. Trenton Young!” I called, my voice loud and clear, echoing in the empty hallway. I swallowed hard. “I demand answers. I want to know—”

The door opened, and I grinned. Finally. Now I would learn where Sage was. I didn’t necessarily need to take her back home with me. I just needed to know she was safe. That my fears had been for nothing.

But the guy standing in front of me wasn’t Trenton Young. It was a man I’d never seen before, a man who towered over me. His dark hair curled slightly on the ends. His tattoos were amazing. He should’ve given the name of his artist to Trenton. One tattoo was of a raven on his shoulder. On the other arm, he had a fierce-looking wolf. Amazingly detailed, so detailed I wanted to step forward and get a better look at them.

Only because of his intense glare did I refrain. After all, I wasn’t here to gawk. I was here for a purpose, and no one, not even a hot guy, was going to make me forget it.

I put my hands on my hips and glared right back at him. I wasn’t one to be cowed. “Where is Trenton?” I demanded, trying to look around him even though he hadn’t opened the door wide enough for me to.

He wasn’t a huge man, but he had a lot of muscles, and he filled up the space of the door opening. He wasn’t a man to be messed with, but he was going to find out that I was a woman who wasn’t to be messed with either.

“Just leave.” His voice was impossibly deep. The man stepped back and started to close the door.

I shoved my foot forward so he’d have to close it on me. “I’m not leaving until you answer my questions,” I said stubbornly. I had come too far to just be cast aside now. “I take it Trenton isn’t here.” I raised my eyebrows.

He stared at my foot and slowly looked upward, taking his time, giving me a once-over. It made me nervous, but in a good way, and I didn’t expect that at all. Focus, Victoria.

I crossed my arms. “Well? Trenton?” I demanded.

“Not here,” he uttered in that deep voice of his. He went to close the door again.

I didn’t move my foot. “Look. I’m not here for Trenton. I’m looking for Sage.” Dang it all if my voice wasn’t starting to show signs of apprehension. “Do you—”

The man suddenly threw open the door, yanked on my arm, and pulled me inside. He closed the door behind us, holding me far closer than he should. His eyes pierced into me, as if seeing clear through to my soul as he asked, “What do you know about Sage, and why are you here?”

My breath caught in my throat. What kind of a mess had Sage gotten herself into? And what kind of a mess had I gotten myself into as a result of looking for her?

Chapter 2

Grant

It had started out a pretty decent week, but now I was getting pretty pissed off. No one knew where Trenton Young was, and the kid wasn’t answering his cell. He hadn’t showed up last night like he was supposed to, and asking around made it clear Trenton hadn’t been around for days.

As the leader of the Devil’s Horns, I didn’t have time for this. I had business plans to cement and an MC to worry about. I was a lot of things, but a babysitter sure wasn’t one of them. Right now, I was annoyed, but if Trenton really had gone legit missing, I knew I would switch over to worrying instead.

“You sure he hasn’t been around?” I growled to Daryl. He, Bob, and I were in my office above the bar the motorcycle club owned. I sure needed a drink myself.

Daryl shook his head and shrugged. “I’m sorry, Grant. I tried calling around, but no one’s seen him. Not since last week. He’s been keeping pretty tight to his bird lately.”

His bird. His girl. Sage. I didn’t know her last name. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her, though.

“What do we know about his girl?” I asked. Maybe he was with her.

“Sage something-or-other. She’s cute. I’ve seen her a few times.”

I grunted and rubbed my chin. “So he’s brought her around.”

“Yeah. Lately, they’ve been doing well, I guess. They’ve had some bumps, I think. I don’t know.” Daryl shrugged again. “He used to be a lot more open.”

“Yeah, he’s been closed off, all right.” I grimaced. A missing MC member was never a good thing. I took a lot of pride in my MC. It had become rich and powerful, and that was because of me and my hard work and the effort of my men. All of my men, and that included Trenton.

At thirty-one, I had just about every dang thing I could want out of life. I had money, power, and responsibilities. The ladies fell all over themselves for me, but I hadn’t found one lately who didn’t grate on my nerves. They wanted me for my power or my wealth. They wanted me for my talents in the sack. But they didn’t want me, the man behind all of that, only what they could get out of me.

Truth be told, I used them, too, but right now, a romp in the sheets wasn’t on my mind. I had a reputation of being arrogant, ruthless, and cocky. At least that was what Daisy told me two weeks ago. Despite my supposed personality flaws, she hated that I had no intention of settling down, but she hated me even more after I told her if I changed my mind, she would be the last to know.

She’d stomped out, but only after trying to steal one of my rings. Yeah, she’d been one of the gold diggers. If I couldn’t find a real woman, so be it. I’d just sleep around to scratch my itch. I didn’t need to find a wife anyhow. I was happy with the way things were.

Well, I would be if I knew where Trenton was.

“Sage. Why is she with him?” I asked. Maybe she was a gold digger, too. I guessed you could say Trenton was good looking, but he had been through a lot before we crossed paths, and it screwed him up a little in the head. He wouldn’t know how to handle a serious relationship, I didn’t think, so it didn’t surprise me to hear that their relationship was a little rocky.

“Not sure. He’s kinda a jerk to her. Some women like that, though. You know how they can be.” Daryl’s grin only lasted a few seconds before he was frowning.

I sighed and wearily rubbed my forehead. A bad headache was beginning to brew. A man gone missing for days, and I was only realizing it now. Incredible. Was I slipping? Business had been more demanding lately, and the club had grown to a decent size. Still, my stomach churned at the thought of Trenton in trouble. His parents could’ve named him Trenton Trouble and it would have been cursed fitting.

“Want me to try calling him again?” Bob offered. He was an eager beaver, one of my men who desperately wanted to climb the ranks.

Honestly, I never cared for brown-nosing, but if word got out that I couldn’t keep track of my men, the MC would be in trouble. Plus, I had switched over to worry. In a lot of ways, Trenton still acted like a punk kid, and I had been trying to straighten him out for a while now. Been failing to straighten him out. “Sure.” But I doubted it would do any good. I had been calling the kid for a few hours myself, and no one had been able to get him to answer. With another sigh, I stood and fished my keys out of my pocket. “I’ll be back. Think you can handle things here?”

Bob grinned like a fool. “Sure thing, boss.” He knocked his shoulder into Daryl’s.

Hoping I wasn’t making a mistake by leaving Bob in charge, I made my way outside and to my bike. My baby. The only one who had never let me down. Sometimes I dreamed about running away, about spreading my wings, about rediscovering myself. Don’t get me wrong, I loved being the leader of Devil’s Horns, but sometimes I needed time to just be me, away from the crowd. With so many people looking to me for answers about life and love and everything else, I often didn’t have time for myself and my wants and my needs.

Maybe that was what had happened with Trenton. Maybe he figured he needed some time with his lady. Maybe they needed some alone time. There were always guys hanging around the office, and he lived by a bunch of them at his apartment. If Trenton and Sage were getting serious, maybe he thought he’d spring her with a surprise, and they had skipped town for a little.

It would’ve been nice if he had mentioned a getaway with me first, though.

My stomach churned, and my agitation level soared sky high. Something about the whole situation just didn’t sit right with me. And if anyone could tell when danger was heading his way, it was me. My father, the great Gary Reardon, had always said I knew when to fight and when to negotiate. He’d given me my first bike when I turned sixteen, though he made me wait two years until I proved myself worthy of it before he let me ride it. He’d been a heck of a man, and I tried to emulate him. Well, most of the time. He died ten years ago. Would he be proud of the man I’ve become? Probably only after I square, everything with Trenton. “Surround yourself with loyal men,” he used to say, “and you’ll never want for anything.”

“Except a piece of rear,” I had joked.

My dad had roared with laughter. “A jerk is just a jerk. There’s more to a woman than her looks.”

“But looks don’t hurt any.”

“Maybe not, but you want a woman as loyal as your men. Loyalty, devotion, love…without them, you can’t build a future. And without a future, what do you really have?”

I wanted a future, all right, and not just for myself, but for my men. For Trenton.

I climbed onto my bike, but before I drove off, I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and texted Danny Boy. Has Sage been around at all lately?

Danny Boy was the bar’s bouncer. If anyone had seen her, it would’ve been him. He never missed a beat. He had a mind like an elephant. Never forgot a face or an order or anything else life could throw his way.

My phone vibrated with his answer a few seconds later, and the response made my frown deepen. Haven’t seen that pretty little donkey in eight days.

I grimaced and shook my head. Nothing was adding up. How often did she come around?

An immediate response this time. Every night that Trenton would stop by. When they’re dating. Which they are right now.

So they were one of those stupid couples that broke up and got back together again all the time. Probably weren’t right for each other at all, but something brought them back. Maybe the make up sex.

You told me Trenton hasn’t been around in, what, six days? I typed as fast as I could, anxiety eating away at me.

Another immediate response. Yeah. Guess the last anyone’s seen him is five days.

Maybe Sage had dumped Trenton. Maybe he was drinking it off somewhere. Or maybe they had gone off somewhere together. But why the heck wasn’t he answering his cell? Why hadn’t he gotten ahold of any one of us?

My legs still straddled over my idle bike, I quickly scrolled through the news on my cell and discovered the police were looking for a Sage Farron. So they had both disappeared, most likely together. The idea of having the police involved made my skin crawl. It made it seem like the two kids were in danger, and I hoped that wasn’t the case. What with Trenton’s past, though, it remained a viable possibility.

It was time to scope out Trenton’s apartment. A bunch of my boys lived in a complex called The Shades, which was ideal only because it was a ten-minute drive from the bar. Traffic was bad, but it still only took me fifteen minutes to get there.

I parked, jogged inside, took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door marked 352. No answer.

All of my boys gave me a key to their place—strictly for emergencies. If the boys in blue came calling, if things needed to be cleared away, if they needed anything at all, I would handle it. As the leader of the Devil’s Horns, that was my job. I looked out for my own. Mutual respect. I had their backs, and they had mine. We might not share blood, but we were family just the same.

It took me a few minutes to locate the right key, and my hand didn’t shake as I inserted it into the slot. The doorknob turned easily in my hand. I inhaled deeply and then again more easily. Thank harass the place didn’t reek. It didn’t smell like a dead body. Yeah, my mind had gone there. Paranoid. Worried. Anxious. I wasn’t used to feeling these emotions, but something was wrong here. I had a sixth sense about this kind of thing.

The apartment was fairly messy, but it looked like an organized mess, not like the place had been ransacked. It didn’t look like someone had left in a hurry, or maybe it did. The mess made it impossible for me to be sure either way.

I closed the door behind me, locked it, and entered the apartment farther. There weren’t any clues as to where the couple might have gone, no ticket stubs or mailers or envelopes, so I examined the kitchen. There wasn’t a ton of food in the fridge or freezer. The cabinets were fairly empty, too. Packed up and taken with? Or did Trenton just need to go grocery shopping?

The bedroom held no clues either, but in the bathroom, hidden all the way in the back beneath the tiny sink, I finally discovered something, hit the jackpot, but not the kind I would’ve preferred to find. There, obviously kept in secret, was drug paraphernalia.

Interesting. And infuriating. So frustrating. Just looking at this pissed me off. I had a feeling Trenton may have been trying to trade drugs. Given that he was now missing, he most likely had gotten himself killed for it.

My hands curled into fists. What happened to loyalty? What happened to being a family? A lot of my guys had been forsaken from their birth families for one reason or another, and I had welcomed them into the MC. If one fell, we helped to pick him back up again. When one of us failed, we all failed, but we would work together to change it around and turn it into triumph. We all had our issues and our problems, but we were much stronger together than apart.

Trenton Young had been a part of the crew for years now. He’d come to me when he’d turned sixteen, and he was twenty-two now. His parents had kicked him out because they caught him doing drugs. I’d helped him get clean. I gave him a place to stay. He had done well. Thrived even. Trenton earned himself a place in the ranks of the Devil’s Horns.

But he had always copped a little bit of an attitude. He had a chip on his shoulder. It took two years for me to learn that Trenton’s father had done drugs heavily himself, and when he came down from his high, he tended to turn into an abusive jerk. Trenton had tried for years to convince his mom to run away. She refused. Trenton had no other family members to turn to, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he decided to experiment and see what exactly the appeal of drugs was, to try to understand why his father would take them.

If Trenton had gotten his own stash, maybe his father wouldn’t have thrown him out, but he claimed Trenton stole from him. Trenton hit rock bottom, chasing after a high, trying to make sense out of life. That was when I found him. I gave him meaning. I gave him a reason to fight. I gave him his life back.

Shortly after he turned nineteen, or maybe twenty, he went back home and beat the living trash out of his father. When I heard about it, some of the boys and I came around to collect Trenton. His father never said a word, never pressed charges. Maybe it was wrong, but I didn’t blame the kid for what he’d done. After all the abuse he’d suffered, he had turned tables on his abuser.

Sometime later, I heard Trenton’s mom ran away, but he never went to see her. “She chose him over me,” he had said.

The kid had trust issues. He had a big problem taking orders from authority figures. He was still trying to sort out where he belonged in the world. And I didn’t mind. He had been through a lot, so it was understandable. At first. But that the same old song and dance continued for years did grow tiresome, and some of the patience I geared toward him wore thin. Did he respect me? I wasn’t sure. Heck, he might even resent me because he didn’t want to rely on anyone. It had been a little while since we last had a talk, a real one, about his issues. I sure wasn’t a psychiatrist, and maybe he needed one, but I was more than willing to be a sounding board and a listening ear. Some distance and a cool head and a different perspective were sometimes all the guys needed to figure out how to better their lives and fix their problems.

Trenton never did talk to me about his love life. Some of the guys went through women as fast as I did, so I didn’t bother to pay attention to their newest squeeze. Now that I thought about it, I thought I did meet his Sage once or twice. I was sure of it. She was tall, thin, blonde hair, blue-eyed. I remembered being proud that he had caught someone like her after he’d been through. Sage and I had never spoken, though. I didn’t know her story. And everyone had a story.

Did she know about his history with drugs? Maybe he wanted to make more money to impress her. Or maybe she pushed him into it. Maybe she had a connection to drugs herself. Who knew?

Okay. So, girl, drugs…That was a start, but what else?

I was about to check out the bedroom when a loud knock sounded at the front door.

Who the heck was that? Not Trenton. He wouldn’t knock. I doubted his girl would either. Someone else, then. The guy who gave Trenton the drugs?

There was more knocking, almost banging. Some yelling, but the voice was muffled, so I couldn’t make out the words. Whoever it was, he or she wasn’t going away.

The last thing I wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to the apartment, especially because of the disappearances, and the drugs too. Idiot me.

Grumbling to myself, muttering a curse, I opened the door. A gorgeous brunette stared at me with disbelief in her dark eyes.

I glowered at her. I didn’t have time to deal with this trash. I had a mystery on my hands. If Trenton hadn’t started to deal drugs, maybe he was back to taking them again. Either way—dealing or using—he would need my help to get him out of the mess he had caused.

She put her hands on her curvy hips and glared right back at me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it turned me on. Just the right amount of cocky attitude.

“Where is Trenton?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

Who was she? An old girlfriend? She looked older than Trenton, though. A few years younger than me. And hot as idiot.

And pissed as idiot, too.

And I was only going to make her more pissed off.

“Just leave.” I stepped back and started to close the door. I didn’t have time for her, even though I kind of wanted to make some time.

The woman shoved her foot forward to stop me. “I’m not leaving until you answer my questions,” she said hotly. “I take it Trenton isn’t here.”

Really? She thought her tiny foot would stop me? I could pick her up and throw her over my shoulder easily. Which actually wouldn’t strike me as such a bad idea if I didn’t have to worry about Trenton. At times, he felt like a younger brother, one who sometimes ignored me but generally followed my advice and direction.

But, yes, the idea of picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom wasn’t a terrible idea. I gave her a slow once-over, and oh yeah, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her once I sorted out everything with Trenton. Long legs, supple arms, and a throat I’d love to suck on. If I weren’t careful, I’d get a massive hard-on. I wondered if she was as flexible as she looked. Not that I could really afford the time to find out, but I would love to go all Kama sutra on her rear.

She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Well? Trenton?” she asked, a slight edge creeping into her tone.

“Not here.” I shouldn’t be wasting time with her, so I started to close the door again.

She didn’t move aside. “Look,” she said, now a little desperate, “I’m not here for Trenton. I’m looking for Sage. Do you—”

Wait. She knew both Trenton and Sage? Maybe she would have a lead. And her voice was rising. I couldn’t have everyone knowing Trenton was missing. People talked, and if word got out, well, I wanted this whole thing wrapped up as quickly as possible.

I threw open the door, yanked on her arm, and pulled her inside. I closed the door behind us, holding her far closer than I should, just because I could, just because I wanted to. Her eyes grew wide. She was obviously freaked out, but she wasn’t about to crumple, I could tell.

Despite myself, I was intrigued by her, this beautiful, mysterious woman. Trying to keep my distance from her and her amazing body, and also trying to keep myself from getting too excited, I asked, “What do you know about Sage, and why are you here?”

Chapter 3

Grant

I gestured for the woman to sit on the couch, but she took one look at it and shook her head. Yeah, actually I wouldn’t want to sit on it myself. It had a few questionable stains.

“Who are you?” I asked when she neglected to answer my previous question.

“Who are you?” she retorted, her brown eyes flashing. She jutted out her chin, as if trying to look down at me even though I was taller than she was.

She had fire, I’d give her that, but did she have any answers? “You’re the one who came banging on the door.” I appraised her. Was she playing me? Why was she looking for Sage?

“You’re the one who’s in an apartment that doesn’t belong to you,” the woman replied coolly.

Unflappable. I liked that. Most women caved beneath my smile and charm. Well, I hadn’t given her the charm yet, and I shouldn’t. I needed to be worried about Trenton. I needed her to answer my questions. I leveled her a stare and waited for her to start talking.

After a moment, she sighed and glanced away. “My name is Victoria.”

“Victoria…” I prompted, waving my hand for her to continue.

“Victoria Klein,” she said in a huff.

“Your connection to Trenton?” I asked.

“To Sage.” Her glower only added to her beauty. “I’m her mother,” she added after a long moment. “Adopted mother. I’m here because I want answers.”

So she knew nothing. Of course.

But to be sure, I asked, “You have no idea where Sage is?”

“I assume she’s with Trenton. Who isn’t here.” She made a point of looking around me to the obviously empty apartment.

“No, he isn’t.” I rubbed my chin, the stubble there prickly against my palm. Just what I needed. A hot mom who was going to try to stick her nose into the investigation and slow me down.

“Do you have an idea where he is?” She started to tap her foot, which made her boobs jiggle.

Really? She was giving me attitude? “I’m gonna find out,” I told her. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I have it all under control.”

Her eyes flashed. “She’s my daughter, and I will worry about it.”

“Look. You can either stop your foolhardy search—because I can guarantee you that you won’t get anywhere on your own—or you can come with me.”

What the heck did I just say? I couldn’t be serious. That had to be my cock speaking. But if she really was dead set on finding her daughter, and drugs were involved, she would need to be careful, and she would need someone to keep an eye on her, whether or not she agreed with that sentiment.

“Go with you? Where?” She shook her head and before I could give her more details, she added, “I can’t. I have a restaurant to run.”

A restaurant? Was she the owner or the manager? Either way, that was impressive. My opinion of her went up a notch, but it wouldn’t stay there if she chose work over her daughter. Nothing should mean more than family.

I shrugged. “No sweat off my back. Just know the police won’t help you either. They don’t care about runaways.”

“Sage isn’t a runaway!” From the scowl on her face, I was certain the cops had mentioned the term to her. I sure hoped she gave them lip for it.

“Well then? What’s your decision?” I was done here. Wasn’t about to waste any more time. I’d already confiscated the drugs, but there weren’t any other clues to the couple’s whereabouts here. The drugs were the way to go, and again, we couldn’t have the police down our backs if we were to explore that avenue.

“I…” She took a deep breath. “Do you have any leads?”

“One.”

“Care to share it?”

“Not here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I told you my name and my connection to them. Who are you, and why do you think you can stand there and dictate what I do?”

“Grant Reardon.”

She didn’t blink.

“Haven’t you heard of me?”

She shook her head.

I blew out an exasperated breath. “Please tell me you at least know about Devil’s Horns.”

“The stupid motorcycle club Trenton’s involved in. Oh.” Her lips formed a perfect O. “You’re part of the club?”

“I’m the leader of that stupid motorcycle club actually.”

Her cheeks stained pink. “Oh,” she repeated faintly.

“That change your mind about coming with me?”

“How long has Trenton been missing?”

I grimaced. I didn’t appreciate that she answered my question with a question of her own, but I did appreciate that she hadn’t apologized for her remark about my MC. She had spunk and her own opinions. Spunk, fire, zeal—they all made for a wild time in the bedroom. “Trenton’s been gone five days as far as I can tell.”

“Sage, too,” she murmured. “They’ve got to be together.” She nodded decisively. “All right. I’ll go with you.”

“Good.”

“On one condition.”

“Look, I’m not in the mood—”

“I just want you to not keep any secrets from me. Deal?” She held out her hand.

The drugs in my back pocket burned me as I shook her hand. “Deal.”

We left the apartment, and I noticed that she watched as I locked up the joint. She followed me down the stairs and kept up my swift pace until we reached my bike.

“My car is over there.” She jerked her thumb to the left.

“Ever rode on a bike before?” I asked as I put on my helmet.

She shook her head. “Another time, maybe,” she said, but she sounded like the chances of that actually happening were poor. “I’ll follow you to…just where are we going?”

“To Devil’s Horns headquarters. Follow me.”

She started to walk away.

“Not much of a daredevil,” I grumbled under my breath.

She whirled around. “This isn’t fun and games. This is serious. If you just want to make jokes and flirt or idiot or any of that, I am not cool with it.”

Fire enough to last lifetimes. Dang.

“If I want to ride on a motorcycle, I will. Not right now. You got it?”

“Got it.”

She walked away. Her hips were swaying way too much for it to not be on purpose. I had to adjust myself in my seat before I could ride away.

Victoria kept up with me easily. She even ran a red to keep behind me. I should’ve waited the light out with her, but I liked knowing she wasn’t a stickler for the rules. She might need to bend the rules with me if we’re to find our people.

Headquarters was located on the floor above my bar. Outside of my office, there was a general room, a meeting room, two bathrooms, and a small kitchen. Posters lined the walls, pictures of my guys goofing off. On one wall, there was a mural of a bike with a man on fire driving off into the sunset. Gray Beard—real name Alan—was a crazy artist. He’d done most of us up in tats.

Victoria walked over to it. “Wow,” she said.

“Nice, ain’t it?”

She nodded. “But wouldn’t the gust created from riding make the fire go out?”

I threw back my head and laughed. “Probably. It’s amazing, though. Riding. It’s powerful. Makes you feel alive.”

“Sure it does,” she said doubtfully.

“If you ever wanna find out,” I offered, “I’m your man.”

“First, I wanna find out about Sage.”

I grimaced. “First, you’re gonna meet some of the crew.” With a hand on the small of her back, I ushered her into the meeting room. Shortly before she’d knocked, I’d texted some of the guys to round everyone up for me. It was strange to walk through the general room without anyone else in it. There were always guys hanging out.

The meeting room was packed, and I quickly introduced Victoria to everyone. She seemed a little stiff and uptight, and I guessed I couldn’t blame her. A few of the guys looked at her like wolves about to take a snack.

I turned to her once everyone calmed down from the introduction. “Are you sure you don’t know anything, anything at all, that’ll help us find out what happened to Trenton? And to Sage?”

“I won’t hold back anything,” she said coolly. “I don’t know where she is. That’s why I went to his place, to Trenton’s. I was hoping I might find him or find out something from one of his neighbors.”

“Did you?”

“No. No one else has seen him. It’s like they just disappeared.” She bit her lower lip.

We all got into a big discussion as to who saw Trenton last and where and tried to come up with a game plan. Did I mention the drugs? No. Not yet. I wanted to keep Victoria safe. She was doing her best for her daughter, and I respected that, but I wanted to also keep her memory of her daughter untarnished. I didn’t know if Sage was involved with the drugs or not, and until I knew for certain, I didn’t want Victoria to freak out. Drugs meant money. Lots of money. And money meant guns. And danger. And murder. We might be looking for Trenton and Sage, but we might find their bodies instead.

We grabbed pizza from the bar to eat for dinner, and I sent a few guys out to chase down some possibilities.

Victoria yawning caught my attention. She stayed close to my side the entire time, but not too close.

“Tired?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “I’m too worried to be—” Another yawn cut her off.

I smirked. “It’s all right to be tired.”

“I should be out there, searching,” she murmured. “If I’m not working, I should be searching.”

She hadn’t eaten much. She’d been texting on her phone, and I assumed it either had to do with details for her restaurant or about trying to chase down some of her own leads, on Sage’s end of it.

I grabbed another slice and put it on her plate. “Eat.”

“I’m not—”

“You can’t stop living. You can’t survive on fear. Eat. Sleep. You need energy to keep up.”

She glowered at me, but she did take a bite.

“Good. Once you’ve finished eating, you’ll come with me to my loft.”

Victoria had lifted the pizza to her mouth, but she lowered it without taking another bite. “To your loft? No. I don’t think so. I have my own place—”

“Victoria, your daughter has disappeared, and we don’t know why. The circumstances, well, they might not be good ones.”

“Because of Trenton being in your motorcycle club?” she asked, eyes flashing.

“Because of Trenton being Trenton,” I said sharply.

She grunted, and I fought back a grin. Sage might not be her blood, but she treated her like she was. That was how I was with my crew. I understood exactly where she was coming from.

“A kidnapping is serious. I don’t know if that’s what happened here, but we have to take precautions, don’t you agree?” I asked. Victoria was rational. I’d appeal to her rational side.

And once we learned what happened to the couple, I would love the chance to appeal to her wild side in the bedroom, if she’d let me.

“Yes,” she said begrudgingly.

“You can’t stay here.” There was a cot in my office, but that was only for me and only in emergencies. “And you won’t be safe at home.”

“But your loft will be safe?” she countered.

“Safer than your place.”

“What if you came over?” Her cheeks flushed.

“I could, but I think my loft is a better option. I’ll keep you safe. I swear.”

It was obvious she didn’t want to, and I understood that. I was a stranger, and I had whisked her away from the lead she was tracking down, hadn’t given her enough hope that we’d find her daughter, and now I was telling her it wasn’t safe for her to go home, that she should come to my place. If I were her, I’d be doubting whether or not to come, too.

“Call a girlfriend,” I urged. “Let her know where you’re going. I swear I don’t have a secret motive here.”

Maybe that was the truth. Maybe that was a lie. I honestly wasn’t sure.

She nodded and proceeded to call someone named Alice and made it clear she was going with me back to my place and she wanted someone to know in case anything happened. Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, and I wished I could hear what Alice said back to her. If I had to guess, it was something about not wanting to know details, or something along those lines.

Victoria ate that slice and a second one, and I ate another myself. Maybe she was stalling. Or maybe she hadn’t been taking care of herself since Sage went missing and she was really hungry. I didn’t say anything when she reached for a third—albeit tiny—slice.

But once she finished it, she wiped her hands on a napkin and threw away her trash. “All right. I’m ready to go.”

“Good.” I put a hand to the small of her back and led her outside. She hesitated, glancing from my bike to her car.

“I’ll follow you.”

I nodded, but inwardly, I was smiling. Once everything was good and right in the world, I’d find a way to get her on the back of my bike. She’d hold on tight, and it would be the ride of her life.

I’d make sure of it.

Chapter 4

Victoria

I followed closely behind Grant. I had to admit he knew how to control his bike. He wasn’t one of those wild and reckless daredevils, though there were times when he would smirk or smile that he would get this glint in his eyes, and I knew he could be a daredevil if he wanted to be.

It didn’t take us long to reach his loft, about ten minutes. It was a nice-looking place, a little more upscale than I would’ve thought. I didn’t know what to think about Grant. I was determined to find Sage no matter the cost, even if it meant involving myself with the leader of Devil’s Horns. It just seemed so ironic, though. I had been trying to get Sage away from the motorcycle club.

What kind of a man was Grant? He seemed controlling and dominating, but he also didn’t seem to be overly so. His men respected him. They listened to him. They wanted to find Trenton as badly as I wanted to find Sage.

And that was my concern. They didn’t want to find Sage. That wasn’t their main objective. And I understood that. I didn’t blame them for feeling that way. I wasn’t worried about finding Trenton myself. I just wanted my girl back. I wanted her to be safe and happy. If something terrible had happened to her, if she were hurt, I’d never forgive myself.

I turned off my car and reached for the door handle, but Grant already opened the door. He held out his hand, but I ignored it and climbed out without his assistance. I wasn’t sure what to think about him, and it bothered me to realize I was attracted to the man. Now wasn’t the time or the place. A tragic situation—that hopefully would have a simple and easy ending—had brought us together. Adding anything else to the mix wasn’t smart.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied his crooked smile. I didn’t need his help getting out of a car. I didn’t want to have to stay at his place. What if Sage had been kidnapped? What if her disappearance was unrelated to Trenton’s? I realized that wasn’t likely, but what if she got away? Her first instinct would be to return home. How would she feel if she went home to find me gone?

The thought that my home might not be safe for her or for me left a bad taste in my mouth. I swallowed hard as Grant unlocked the front door.

He held the door open for me and gestured for me to go to the right. I entered the clean and polished kitchen and took a seat at the island.

“Want a drink?” he asked as he opened the fridge.

“Yes, please.” Goodness, I could use one. Or five.

He grabbed two beers, opened one, and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed as I took it, and the warmth of his skin felt almost too hot. Our gazes met, and he gave me a grim smile. He was anxious and worried, too, but he was trying to hide it. Why? For my sake? Or because he wasn’t used to feeling anxious and worried?

Grant pulled out and sat on the stool next to mine. His leg pressed against mine, and I took several quick swallows of my beer. “We’ll find them.”

I knocked my beer bottle against his. “I’ll drink to that.”

We both drank, and silence fell over us. Again, my thoughts started to churn. My being here felt so wrong. I had no clothes but what I was wearing. Yes, I had made arrangements with Heather Franklin to keep the restaurant up and running with strict orders to not bother me unless it was an absolute emergency, but I felt like I was pausing my life to find Sage. Which was fine. I had no problems with that.

But sitting here, drinking a beer, feeling the power from his leg as it was pressed against mine, it felt so wrong.

I drank from my beer only to discover it was empty.

“Want another?” Grant asked, already getting up.

“Sure. Thanks.”

He got out another two and opened them. After he reclaimed his seat—I swear he was sitting a little closer to me now—he said, “Tell me about Sage.”

So I told him. I told him about her appearance, about her kind heart and how she kind of always seemed to be at war with herself. How she wanted to be independent but knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. How she could be frustrating and even infuriating at times. How she could be kind and considerate.

It wasn’t until I had two more beers that I added how she should find someone better than Trenton.

“Why is that?” he asked, his tone suddenly cool.

“He’s not good for her.”

“Why do you say that?” He had turned toward me to look at me as we talked, but now he shifted to face forward, his jaw tight, his back rigid.

“You aren’t Trenton,” I blurted out.

Grant tilted his head, his cocky grin making a reappearance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trenton’s bad news.” I winced. “I’m sorry. He’s yours. He’s one of yours. He’s…I just don’t think he’s right for Sage. You know?” I was rambling. Beer always made me ramble.

“If I’m not Trenton, and he’s bad news, does that make me good news?” His gaze shifted downward to focus on my lips.

I refrained from licking them. Somehow. “I’m not sure yet.”

He leaned closer, close enough for me to be able to see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “Do you want to find out?”

Yes.

No.

I didn’t know.

I reached for a beer bottle and knocked an empty one over. “Sorry.” I glanced away to pick it up, and when I turned back to Grant, the moment was gone. Which was probably a good thing. This man was fine. Incredibly fine. And I couldn’t have a distraction. Too much was at stake.

Later on, though, once Sage was found, that would be a different story.

“I understand,” he said quietly.

Did he, though? Did he understand that when he touched and squeezed my shoulder, it sent a shot straight through me? That I was afraid it wasn’t just him that I was responding to, but that I would be feeling and reacting this way to any guy since it had been so long since I had been involved with one? Did he agree that now wasn’t the time? Was he one of those guys who screwed women and tossed them aside when he was bored of them? Honestly, I might have done that once or twice to a guy. A long-term relationship hadn’t been something I needed when I had been climbing the ladder to restaurant ownership, but now that I had accomplished my business goals, why couldn’t I find myself a guy if the right guy came along?

Once Sage was found, of course.

And the right guy couldn’t possibly be from a motorcycle club.

So maybe one more throwaway guy was in the cards.

But as I stared at him, at his deep eyes, his strong lines, his bulging muscles, I knew he wouldn’t be the kind of guy to settle for being a throwaway. He was the kind of guy to be the one to throwaway instead.

Slowly, his lips curled into a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t mind if you took a picture.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I was just thinking that you’re dirty. I mean, I’m dirty. Not like that. I mean…a shower. Do you have a shower? Of course you do. Can I use it?”

“Dirty body or dirty mind?” he asked, a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Like a fool, I just gave him a slight smile back. I did not want to keep talking and continue to make a fool of myself. What the heck was going on with me? Four beers was less than my limit, so it shouldn’t be the alcohol. Had to be stress. And Grant was a hot guy. I was out of practice talking to one who made me feel all jittery inside. Some of the guys I interacted with at the restaurant were hot, but I didn’t view them as dating material.

So was I viewing Grant that way?

Cool it, hormones.

Grant polished off the last of his beer. “I’ll grab you a towel. Follow me.” He led me down the hallway to a closet. After he removed a towel, he jerked his head to the right. “This way. Once you get out, I can give you a tour of the place. It’s not huge, but it’s got what I need.”

What do you need? was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. There was no way a man who looked like he did—a god of sorts with his muscles, that perfect hair for running fingers through, those lips that begged to be kissed—would not take that question sexually.

“Use my shampoo, my soap. Whatever you need.” He opened a door in the long hallway that revealed a rather impressive bathroom. Its cleanliness struck me immediately. Did he not bring a lot of women here? Or maybe he hired a cleaning service. I didn’t think Grant was the kind to get his hands dirty. Not with cleaning at least.

“Thank you.”

He handed me the towel, and I made sure our fingers didn’t touch. His smirk left me wondering if he realized I did that intentionally. I had to get him out of my mind. I needed to focus on Sage and finding her.

We’ll find her soon.

I hoped.

I stripped and adjusted the water to my liking before stepping in. The shower was huge, definitely large enough to fit two people. There was room enough for people to wash each other, to suds up their bodies, making them all slick and wet and clean. There was room enough for sex in a few positions. Leg up in the air, from behind, facing each other, maybe sitting on the ledge, too.

As I washed up, I found myself daydreaming I weren’t alone, that Grant was here, and I almost felt ashamed for it. It was obvious he was attracted to me, too, but the timing was so wrong, and besides, it would never last anyhow. Our worlds were too different.

Didn’t mean we couldn’t have a romp or two.

No. Not now. Not until Sage and Trenton are found.

Still, I was wet between my legs when I climbed out of the shower. I glanced at my pile of clothes and grimaced. I really didn’t want to have to put them back on. Maybe Grant had a shirt I could borrow. A long shirt.

I dried my body and wrapped myself in the towel. Maybe this would only make things worse. The sexual tension between us had started back at his headquarters, but it had only increased since we were in such close quarters.

The moment I exited the bathroom, I collided with Grant. His strong arms wrapped around me, to keep me from falling, but then he didn’t let me go. His penetrating gaze shot straight through me, and I grew even wetter. My gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips, and I barely had time to close my eyes before he pressed them to mine.

The kiss started out innocently enough, but when I wrapped my arms around his neck to draw him closer, he pressed against my back so there was no space between us but his clothes and my towel. My tongue pushed against his lips, and he parted them, and our tongues dueled as the kiss heated up.

Before we could go any further, because that was definitely where that kind of a kiss was heading, his phone vibrated.

Grant broke off the kiss. “Dang it,” he growled. He didn’t step back as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket, one hand still on my back.

I reveled in the feel of the length of his hard body against mine, but I tried to damper down my excitement. We needed to focus on Sage and Trenton, not each other. It was for the best that we had been interrupted.

My hormones sure disagreed, though.

He stared at his phone. “A text. Someone spotted Sage on the eastside of town.”

“Let’s go.” I shrugged out of his grip and started toward the front door.

“As much as I love how you look in that towel, I think you might want to get changed before we go.”

“Oh. Right.” I dashed back to the bathroom. Who cared if I wore the same clothes? If we could find Sage already, everything would be perfect!

I threw my clothes on and applied some of Grant’s deodorant. It smelled strong, and it thrilled me to smell like him.

To say I was pissed and annoyed to find Grant’s bike gone and him not in sight in his loft would be an understatement. He had left me a note on the counter. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Make yourself comfy. Time is of the essence.

He was right about that, but I had only taken three minutes to change. He couldn’t have waited three minutes?

I paced around the table a few times before my stomach started to churn. I was both nauseous and hungry. By the time I decided eating might be a good idea, I heard the roar of his bike and the flashing of his lights.

Quick as a rabbit, I rushed to the door. Grant’s grim face greeted me.

“It was a false lead. I’m sorry. I went to the place and scoped it out, but I found nothing.”

“Where was it?” I asked. My heart sank, but honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Something in my gut told me Sage was in trouble. We hadn’t gotten in a fight. She had no reason to run away.

“A bar. Cowboy’s Lasso. You know the place?”

I stilled. Sage might only be nineteen and underage, but that was a place she frequented. “Cowboy’s Lasso. Sage often went there with Trenton. You sure that it was a false lead?”

“She wasn’t there. Neither was Trenton. Could they have been there earlier? Not today, at least. I asked the bartender, and he said no. Trenton never mentioned the bar to me himself, but I’ll go back tomorrow and ask more questions.”

“I’ll come with.”

He reached over and patted my hand. “You need to get some supplies and clothes. Maybe call around a few more friends or other places that the two would hang out.”

“Why do you want me to lay low?” I demanded, pulling my hand back and putting it on my hip.

“I want you to stay safe. I don’t want anyone else to go missing.”

“And you assume that because you’re a big, tough guy you’ll be fine?”

“Exactly.” He brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “I’ll go in the morning alone, but I’ll notify you the second I learn anything. Do we have a deal?”

“I’m not gonna change your mind, am I?” I sighed.

He laughed. “If I’m anything, I’m stubborn.”

“I am, too, but fine. Just this once.”

“Just this once.”

Chapter 5

Grant

That night, I had a hard time sleeping, and it wasn’t because I was on my couch. It was because Victoria was in my bed, sleeping.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I kept trying to think about Trenton and where we might be able to find him and Sage, but my other head wanted attention.

Maybe I was in denial. I didn’t want Victoria to be hurt, but I was afraid that was exactly what was going to happen. Because if Trenton was mixed up with drugs, then Sage might’ve been snatched specifically to keep Trenton in line. Or, if Sage was in on it, maybe Victoria was in danger, because then she could be the one snatched to keep Sage in line.

It was enough to make my head hurt.

My other head, now that was throbbing. When Victoria had come out of the bathroom with beads of water on her soft skin, crashing into me, I hadn’t even thought about stopping myself. I just went for it and kissed her.

It had been an incredible kiss, and I had had more than my fair share of kisses. Make no mistake about it, I wasn’t interested in settling down. I had no idea if I ever would. Didn’t mean I didn’t want Victoria any less, though, and from the way she responded, she definitely wanted me, too.

Her curves, those lips, her lithe body, I could just imagine how it would go, how she would respond.

Maybe it was animalistic of me to be thinking about her like this when Trenton might be in trouble. Heck, worst case scenario, Trenton would be dead already. He deserved better than that. He could’ve been better than all of this. I thought I’d helped him, that drugs weren’t a part of his life anymore. I guessed I had failed him.

I didn’t take failure well, but this wasn’t about me. Trenton had always had his demons, and while I did my best for him, there had been only so much I could do for him. He had to want to get clean himself. It seemed to me that he hadn’t started using again, at least, but that he might be dealing it, selling it, when he knew first hand just how terrible the stuff could be, well, it just ate away at me.

So maybe I wasn’t sleeping for a few reasons.

With a groan, I got up and grabbed myself an apple from the kitchen. Maybe a snack would help me settle. Before going back to the couch, though, I made a detour and peeked in on Victoria. She looked so peaceful, but then she rolled over and back again. She was restless. Small wonder.

I could climb into bed with her. Hold her. Comfort her. Take both of our minds off our worries.

The sound of a soft sigh came to me. Was she waking? No. It seemed to me that she was settling into a deeper sleep. Better to leave her alone.

But that left me all the more frustrated when I returned to the couch. My cock was throbbing, long and hard. Maybe this was a nature reaction to fear and worry—to want to mess, to crave something life-affirming. Because, man, did I want to mess, to pound good and long, again and again.

She was aggravated with me, though, and I didn’t blame her for that. I wanted to keep her safe, and I was keeping her in the dark. The possibility of there being a threat to her was real. She just didn’t realize how real. I’d keep her safe, even if it meant that I had to keep her at arm’s length. If she learned I was holding back, she’d be pissed, and she might understand, but probably not. If Sage was in on drugs, Victoria obviously had no idea. She thought the world of Sage. She loved her like she was her own. If she wanted to have kids of her own one day, she’d make a heck of a mom.

Kids. Now that was something I hadn’t thought about. Did I want some? It would mean having a family. More like having another family. My men, my crew, they were my family.

I wasn’t a praying kind of guy, but I kind of felt like I should be praying now. I wanted Trenton and Sage to be safe. I wanted the drugs to have been planted there. I wanted everything to work out.

But I had a feeling that it was going to be a long time before anything would work out, and who knew how exactly it would all shape up.

***

I woke the next morning before Victoria did, although it might be more accurate to say that I hardly ever slept. I had gotten up after I finished an apple and wrote down every possible place Trenton had ever gone to since I had known him. I then looked up the numbers and left the list on the table. I wasn’t specifically asking Victoria to call the places for me, but if she wanted to do it while I was out investigating, I would appreciate it. I wanted to find Trenton as badly as she wanted to find Sage.

Before I went back to Cowboy’s Lasso, I scoped out my place. None of the guys had any other new leads for me, though it took me some time to track them all down, since a few were out chasing down what turned out to be false leads.

I figured it wouldn’t be best to return to the bar until it was at least dinnertime, so I tinkered some with my bike. Working with my hands, getting dirty and grimy, always helped to get my mind working. I came up with a few others places Trenton liked to hang out at that I hadn’t thought up earlier, and I checked out the movie theater and the restaurant, but he hadn’t frequented either recently.

Of course not. I’m starting to feel like we’re chasing ghosts.

By now, it was nearly five o’clock. I ate dinner with the guys, all the while wondering how Victoria was holding up. Maybe I should’ve gone to her, ate with her, kept her company. I had given her a few text updates but that was it. I wanted to try to put some distance between us. Distractions right now weren’t good. The couple had been gone for days now. The longer they went without being found, the less likely we were to find them. If they really wanted to disappear, we might not be able to find them.

Again I considered the drugs. If Trenton and Sage were running—not from us but from drug dealers—they might very well be trying to disappear. If we never found them, what then? Victoria would never give up on finding her daughter, and I wouldn’t want to give up either.

We would have to find them. One way or another.

Figuring enough time had passed by now that a trip to the bar would hopefully prove worthwhile, I said goodbye to my boys and instructed them to keep on searching. It might take all of us to find them.

It didn’t take me long to ride back to Cowboy’s Lasso. It was a dark little place, a little out of the way, tucked into a corner. I could see the appeal to it. The place had been really busy last night, which was some of the reason why I had to go back now to get more intel.

Before she had gone to bed last night, Victoria had texted me a pic of Sage and Trenton, and I showed that around to everyone who walked into the place. The first few people I asked hadn’t heard anything, but I struck gold when I asked the guys sitting at the bar—the regular drunks who I wished hadn’t recognized Trenton.

“Oh yeah. Them. Yeah, we know them, don’t we, Bob?” a guy who had a stain on his shirt said.

Bob, who was missing one of his front teeth, squinted at the pic, then nodded. “Sure do.”

“Let me see.” The third guy, whose pants had some questionable holes in them, leaned over. Man, did he need a bath. Smelled like he hadn’t showed in years. “Yep. Trevor, right?”

“No. Trenton.” Stained-Shirt stared at me. “Right? That there is Trenton.”

“Yes,” I said. What were the chances these guys knew anything worthwhile? Still, I had to try to follow up every lead. “Trenton and his girlfriend, Sage. I got a call that Sage was here last night.”

Smelly stared at Bob and Stained-Shirt. “I didn’t see her.”

“And you always notice her when she comes in,” Bob hooted.

“She ain’t ever gonna let you buy her a drink.” Stained-Shirt grinned.

Smelly’s nostrils flared. “One day she will. She’ll dump that rear of a…She’ll want a real man.”

And Smelly was a real man?

“So I gather she wasn’t here last night, then,” I cut in.

“Nope.”

“When was the last time you tried buying her a drink?” I tried to smile at Smelly. I tried. I failed.

“About a month ago.” He shook his head. “Can’t try to buy her one when dipshit is around, and she don’t come here alone too often. Pretty little thing. Doubt she’s legal. Such perfect ripe belly that—”

“Right on,” I said to shut him up.

The man had to be old enough to be her father. Heck, maybe even her grandfather. While I respected the desire to want a younger woman, there was a line. Sage was legal, but I had a feeling this guy liked them as young as he could get them.

So much for that question working out for me. I’d figured from what his friends said that he asked to get a drink every time she came in, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

“When was the last time she came in with her boyfriend?” I asked.

Smelly glowered at me.

“With her dipshit of a boyfriend,” I amended for him.

“Jerk.”

Now I was the one to glower at him.

“Not you,” he muttered, holding up his hands. “Hey.” He slapped his hand onto the counter. “Grab ’im one. On me.”

The bartender looked over, nodded, and a few minutes later handed me an ice cold beer.

Little early for drinking. Then again, these guys were already drinking, and it wasn’t like I was short on reasons for drinking anyhow.

I took several long swallows. “As you were saying,” I growled.

Smelly nodded. “The two of them were here a week ago.”

Bob nodded, too. “A week ago is right.”

“Yeah, the game was on.”

Smelly smiled widely. “That’s right. My team scored, and she walked on in, and I thought I might score, but then he came in right behind her. He probably just wanted to stare at her tight rear.” He drained the last of his beer.

I took a sip of mine. “A week, huh? That typical? Or do they come by more often than that usually?”

“More like two to three times a week usually.”

“Can always tell when they stop by.” Stained-Shirt jerked his thumb in Smelly’s direction. “The amount of beer he drinks a night is insane.”

“Insane in the membrane,” Bob muttered.

Smelly slapped him upside the head.

The bartender cast them a glare.

Smelly straightened for a second before hunching back over his glass. He cradled the empty glass in his hands. “I keep hoping she’ll turn up.”

“Yeah. He’s been missing time at work for it.” Bob shook his head. “Got it bad. If he’s not careful, he’ll get himself another restraining order.”

I snapped him a long stare. He seemed obsessed, yes, but would he have the drive to do anything about it? Had he taken Sage as his own and offed Trenton?

Smelly hiccupped. “Whatever. I don’t need that job anyhow. My boss’s a jerk—”

“You think everyone’s a jerk,” Stained-Shirt said.

“That’s because they are.”

I cleared my throat. I definitely planned on finding out more about him. “What’s your name again?” I asked.

Smelly grimaced and didn’t answer.

I flagged down the bartender and held up two fingers.

Only after we got our beers did Smelly start talking. “Paul. Paul Jonstone.” He gave me a side glance. “Who are you, and why are you asking so many questions about Sage?”

“She’s a friend of mine,” I said. No way did I want him to start thinking I was a cop. Cops made people nervous, which actually could work in my favor because nervous people tended to talk too much and give things away, but it could also work against me because nervous people tended to shoot first and ask questions later, and I did not want to get shot.

“A friend?” Paul grimaced. He wasn’t the kind of guy to want competition. Not that he was competition. Trenton had nothing to worry about from him. I was going to keep an eye on him, but I doubted he had anything to do with the disappearances.

“Just a friend,” I assured him. “Been trying to call her and she won’t answer.” I drank some of my beer. “All right. Fine. She owes me. She wanted to buy a really expensive dress to impress her…dipincredible. I’m talking really expensive.” I shook my head. “Women and their clothes. Anyhow, I need to collect. My girl’s starting to be suspicious about the missing money, and what kind of bird is gonna believe I’d loan that kind of money to a friend?” I shrugged. “Help a brother out, man. Got any idea where she is?”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, actually. I was walking to the bathroom to take a piss—”

“He wanted to try to sniff her hair,” Stained-Shirt cut in.

“I do not do that!” Paul shouted, but I wouldn’t put it past him. “They were talking, the two of them. Kinda hushed tones, but you can only talk her so softly if you wanna be heard. Loud place at night here. Ton of good people, good food, good music, good—”

“Everything’s good,” I interrupted, hoping he would get to the point soon, and that the point would turn into a reliable lead. “Did you hear what they were saying?”

“You bet I did. They were talking about leaving town.”

Hope grew in my chest, hot and warm. Or maybe that was my stomach and the beer. Could it be that the two were just lovebirds? That they just wanted to get away and make a break from their own lives, start over anew with a clean slate?

Doubtful. There wasn’t a reason for Sage to want to duck out of town without contacting her mom. And that didn’t explain the drugs.

That was what had me worried. The drugs. What was Trenton messing around with? What had he gotten himself—and Sage—into?

“Leave town, huh. Typical. Wants to skip out on me.” I gave him more side-eye. “Any idea where?”

“Some town. One hundred miles north. Can’t remember the name of it. Sorry, man. I doubt you’re getting your money back.”

I drained my beer. “Yeah, well. This broad wants a fair amount of money herself. Maybe I should just be done with both of them. Find someone else. Always more fish in the sea, right?”

“Always.” Bob laughed. “Would be great to find one that didn’t smell like fish down there.”

“Like you ever go down on your wife.” Stained-Shirt laughed.

I refrained from recoiling. Bob with the missing tooth had a wife?

“I do if I want her to give me head,” he grumbled. “And trust me, my wife gives good head. Worth it even if I have to hold my breath.”

I joined in the laughter, but I needed more specifics than just some town one hundred miles north. Seemed to me that they were fleeing.

The drugs. Had to be because of the drugs. Trenton wasn’t the romantic type. He wouldn’t pick up Sage and ride into the sunset. While it didn’t seem like Victoria approved of her daughter dating him, she hadn’t disallowed it either. They didn’t need to run away to be together.

So, they’d left because of the drugs.

If I thought time had been important before, it was even more important now. Who knew if Trenton and Sage would still be alive when we did find them? Because it was when we found them, not if we found them.

I turned to Paul. “Do you think you might remember—”

The activity in the bar racketed up a notch, suddenly so much louder that I had to stop and glance around. What was going on? A fistfight?

There were so many people crowding around the bar, trying to get the bartenders’ attention to get more beer or liquor that I had to stand to see.

And what did I see?

Victoria.

In the back.

With two shady-as-demon-looking guys.

And it looked like she might be the one to be lifting up fists.

Chapter 6

Grant

That she showed up here had my blood boiling. I had sent her a few texts earlier, and she knew I was here, and she had agreed to not come. She understood that I wanted to keep her safe. That this was dirty work. That I could handle it.

She’d lied. And she obviously couldn’t handle it.

I tossed some money onto the counter, said a quick goodbye to the guys, and had to fight my way toward her. The crowd wasn’t forgiving, and I knocked into more than a few shoulders, but finally I pushed through the group and made my way to the back.

Two tall men accosted her, and from the shouts, loud talking, music, and cheers, I couldn’t hear what they were saying to her, but she looked both angry and frightened.

I pushed through the middle of them to reach her and threw an arm across her shoulders. “What’s going on here?” I asked conversationally, but there was a slight edgy undercurrent to my tone. That plus my glower had the guy on the right retreating half a step.

The guy on the right had a moustache and he wasn’t as easily intimidated. “We don’t want her here.”

“Why not?” I asked smoothly.

“She’s bothering us.”

I refrained from glancing down at her. “How—”

“You can’t refuse me service without a good reason,” Victoria demanded.

“Actually, yes, we can.”

Victoria jerked forward, and I had to restrain her. I actually had to hold her back. I wasn’t sure what she had been about to do, and who knew if she even knew. From experience, I’d learned adrenaline could make you do crazy things. I’d been in a few fistfights myself before. Hadn’t always won, and two against one weren’t great odds, but I would take them both on if I had to.

“You want her to leave,” I said smoothly, “she’ll leave. Right?”

She pushed herself away from me. “Really?”

“Come on.” I waved to the guys and followed her as she whipped around and marched out the back exit.

She paced up and down the sidewalk. Her car wasn’t in sight.

“What were you thinking?” I fumed.

“I was thinking …” She glanced up and down the street. “Let’s not talk out here.”

“How did you get here?”

“Took a cab,” she muttered. She rubbed her arms. She was trembling. Her nerves had to be shot.

My eyebrows rose. “A cab? Why didn’t you drive yourself?”

“I…My hands were shaking too much.” She essentially hugged herself. “I’ll call one and go back to my place. I won’t—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going back to mine.”

“I will not!”

“What happened back there?” I asked quietly. “It didn’t look good.”

She hesitated.

“I will take care of you. I promise you we’ll find them. It’s gonna take time.”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have!” She stepped toward me, arm raised, her fingers in a fist. But she lowered her arm without hitting me. “Fine.”

I walked her over to my bike. “Willing to ride?”

I hadn’t wanted her first ride to be under this kind of a circumstance, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Guess so,” she mumbled.

I only had one helmet, so I gave it to her. Once she put it on, I mounted my bike. After a moment, she climbed on behind me.

“Hold on tight,” I warned her.

I rode away. I went slow and took my time. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her. As it was, she clung to me so tight whenever I had to make a turn. She was a quick learner, though, and she moved her body to the correct side when I turned without me having to tell her first. Normally I told new riders what to expect, what to do. Guess she wasn’t the only one to be unnerved about everything. I was definitely on edge. The beers I’d had didn’t help to settle me any. The thought of her getting hurt made me so angry, but I was also pissed at her for endangering herself unnecessarily. What had she been thinking? What had she said or done that had set the guys off in the first place?

What bothered me more—that she had lied to me, or that she had gotten herself in danger? Both bothered me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure which hurt me more.

Me. Hurt. Over a woman. What was happening to me? I was going soft.

Lies. Betrayal. Two things I couldn’t abide. Yet here I was, trying my best to find Trenton even though the drugs at his place showed he had been lying to me, might even have been betraying me.

And now Victoria lied to me. She had promised to leave the bar to me. She promised to trust me.

Obviously, that was another lie. She didn’t trust me. I had trusted her, but now I didn’t want to.

But I still did, and that was just as frustrating at anything else. Because she was a worried mother, trying to find her daughter. Of course, it would be hard for her to trust someone else to find her, especially when she knew about a lead that needed to be double checked.

When we arrived, I killed my bike and waited for Victoria to climb off first. She was still squeezing me tight, and I had to tap her hands and pry them apart for her to let go.

“Ready?” I asked.

“For what?” she murmured as she finally climbed off. She unhooked the helmet, and I stashed it away.

I didn’t bother to answer her, just took her by the elbow and marched her inside. Every ounce of me wanted to read her the riot act, to yell at her, to rage, to punch something, but I refrained.

Barely.

I was pacing right by the door—after I slammed it shut and locked it—but when I turned toward her and saw that she was trembling, my anger just vanished.

Without thinking, I crossed over to her and enveloped her into my arms. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. She smelled like my shampoo. She felt so fragile, so small.

She pulled away slightly and looked up at me. She might seem fragile, but there was strength in her eyes. There was determination, too. She was determined to go to war if she had to.

And she just might.

“I broke into the back entrance,” she said.

I gaped at her. “Broke in?”

“Yeah. It’s not supposed to open from the outside. Exit only.” She took a deep breath. She was still trembling, just not quite as violently as before. My arms were still around her, and maybe I was giving her some peace of mind by holding her, but I couldn’t help thinking maybe she was drawing on some inner strength. “I was hoping…I thought…Maybe I hadn’t been thinking…”

“What had you wanted to do?”

“Snoop around,” she blurted. “If someone working there knew something or was involved, they might have gotten rid of all the evidence already, but I had to try to see.”

“Huh?”

“I was good. I called everyone on your list and my list, too, and then the police called me to give me an update, which was basically to say that there wasn’t an update. I asked if they had gone over to Cowboy’s Lasso, and they had. ‘Nothing there,’ they said, so either they’re lying and never went in the first place—which I doubt because I know they went to another store Sage loved because I went in to buy her something for when she comes home and the saleswoman told me about the police coming to question them—or else the bar employees lied to the police. And if they lied to the police, it had to mean there was a reason for it—like them having to do with Sage’s disappearance!” She was back to shaking again, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was from anger and rage. She had fire and drive and passion. One heck of a woman.

I rubbed her back. “You’re sure the employees lied to the police?”

“Yes. They claimed Sage and Trenton haven’t been there in a month.”

Okay, now that definitely was a lie.

“We can’t jump to conclusions,” I started.

She trembled some more, staring off into the distance. “I broke in, and I didn’t even get in very far—maybe two steps. Was just looking around when those guys came up to me. One grabbed my arm, but I threatened to kick him in the balls if he touched me. I tried to talk my way out of it, but considering they saw me come in through the door, they knew I was up to no good. I guess they were just doing their job, but—”

“No. They never should’ve touched you or talked to you like that.” I pulled her close again.

“I just wanted to find some clues, some evidence. The trail can’t go cold, Grant. We have to find her.”

“Find them,” I corrected gently.

“Right. Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed. “I tried to claim I was just trying to get a beer, but they didn’t believe me. Called me some names. If you hadn’t come over…” Victoria started trembling all over again.

“Hush,” I whispered. “You’re fine now. You’re here.”

“Yes, I’m fine, but…” A tear streaked down her cheek. “Oh goodness. Dang it. Dang it all to Perdition. I made everything worse, didn’t I? Now they know people are snooping. They might not realize why I was, but you saved me, so now they know both of us, will recognize our faces. Neither of us can go back there. We can’t find out anything about Sage and Trenton. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve—”

“It’s on me,” I said. “I should’ve gone in with one of the guys. Had him try to do some digging around the back while I worked the customers. I should’ve had my cell on, connected to you, so you could’ve listened in. That way, you wouldn’t have to worry, and—”

“And if God forbid something happened, if you did pick up a lead, I could’ve had proof to give to the police.” A few more tears fell. “We really screwed this up, didn’t we?”

“Not all hope is lost.”

She shook her head. “My hope is dying.”

No. I wouldn’t let that happen to her. “Things will look better in the morning,” I assured her.

“In the morning.” She took a deep breath and shuddered. “Eight more hours. Eight more hours of Sage being gone. Maybe…Maybe she’s…her…”

I shifted so one arm went around her waist and guided her to my bedroom. “Sleep. I can talk to my men and send them back in. We’ll be smart about it. No one will know they’re connected to us—”

“Your bike,” she interrupted.

“Huh?”

“They can make a connection through your bikes.”

Through the club. She was smart, but I had already thought about that. “We do know how to drive cars, too.” I smiled, hoping the joke would ease her mind slightly, but her frown remained firmly in place.

“So one will do the talking and the other the snooping, like we should’ve done all along?”

“Yep. And we’ll have a wire set up so we can both listen in. How does that sound?”

“Good.” She sighed.

I walked her over to the bed and picked her up to lay her down on it. She looked like an angel. She wasn’t supposed to have any exposure to the harshness the world has to offer. She was a successful businesswoman, worked her way to the top, adopted a girl. She was good and kind and loving. This kind of harshness, this kind of darkness, it was bound to change her, for better or for worse.

“You should get some sleep.” I wanted to smile at her, but I couldn’t. Life was too nasty. There wasn’t time for smiles or happiness. Misery and depression. That was about it. Idiot, the world was a messed up place. Most everyone was miserable and depressed, too.

Without a word, I removed her shoes and then her socks. Now also wasn’t the time for anything sexual, but would it help if I undressed her slightly to make her more comfortable? I didn’t want to cross any lines. Honestly, I just wanted to help. Help Victoria. Help Trenton. Help Sage.

Help myself.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. Sure, as leader of a motorcycle club, I had seen some trash in my days, but nothing like this. That those guys had jumped all over Victoria told me we had to be on the right track.

Or maybe not. If Trenton and Sage had gotten out of town and moved one hundred miles away, they were going to be involved with the bar in any fashion. So maybe the bar had some kind of dirty, illegal secret to it that was completely separate from the disappearance of the couple.

All of these questions and my lack of answers were given me a migraine.

“What I really need is a drink,” she muttered wanly.

Good idea.

“I’ll get you one.” I patted her arm and left her room. Maybe she would already be conked out by the time I got back. Or maybe she wanted it as a nightcap. To help settle her down for sleep. Those guys had her really worked up. It might take her some time to be able to fall asleep.

She was half sitting up when I returned with two glasses of whiskey. Her arms were wrapped around her bent knees, her head resting on her arms. She was back to trembling again.

I set the glasses on my nightstand and sat beside her on the bed. “Here. It’s all right,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her. “Do you want your drink? What do you need?”

“You know what I need,” she said softly.

Her daughter. Of course.

“What do you need that I can get for you right this second?” I clarified.

“Nothing.” But she lifted her head from her arms and rested it against my shoulder.

It was a simple gesture, sweet, but it got me hard. Idiot. This so wasn’t the time. She was hurting. It would be taking advantage of her. I should get up and leave.

But she was the one to kiss my cheek. She was the one to cup my face. She was the one to press her lips to mine, and suddenly she was in my arms, legs spread, straddled over me, humping me through our clothes as our kisses deepened. I felt like I had jumped off a cliff and landed in a pool of liquid pleasure.

I nipped at her lips as I tugged on her shirt. We broke off the kiss only for a second, enough time for me to yank off her top, and then our tongues were back to dueling. Her hands bunched up my shirt, and we had to stop kissing again, this time for her to remove my shirt.

But instead of kissing me more, she pressed her hands firmly against my back until I lay down, and she made quick work of my belt. I lifted my hips, and she peeled off my jeans. Her eyes widened as my cock sprang free.

Yep. No boxers. I liked to free ball it.

And I liked what she was doing to my balls, cupping them in one hand, her other hand slowly stroking my cock. It felt wrong, though, and I had to ask, “Are you sure you want this?”

With fire in her eyes, she grabbed my hand and brought it to her pussy. Oh idiot. Idiot, was she wet. “You tell me,” she said, her eyes glazed over with lust.

I caressed her folds before slipping a finger inside of her. She groaned when I immediately pulled it back out, but her eyes widened as I put that finger inside my mouth and licked her juices from it. “Oh yeah. You want this.” I sat up, grabbed her, twisted her around, and flung her onto the bed.

Now I straddled her. I slowly shifted backward and moved her legs so they were spread around me. My head dipped down, and I kissed up the sides of her inner thighs. She wiggled and squirmed, grabbing onto the sheet.

“Come on,” she begged.

“There’s no need to rush.”

“Yes, please!”

I traced lazy circles on her inner thighs, making her squirm even more. “Don’t you realize how much better it can be if you wait a little?”

“I don’t want to wait. Don’t make me wait!”

I smirked. “The other guys you’ve been with have been rushers, am I right? Just in and out a few times and done. And that satisfied you?”

She grimaced. “I just want some relief.”

I laughed. “You’ll get relief and then some,” I promised.

A few more kisses on her legs, and then I kissed her lips. She jerked, gasping loudly, and I fought back a grin. I would make her scream before the night was over.

I licked and sucked and teased and licked some more. Goodness, she was so responsive. Every touch of my lips or tongue or teeth had her sighing or twisting. She kept bucking her hips, trying to get me to harass her faster with my mouth.

Not wanting to deny her but also wanting to give her more pleasure, I stopped sucking and waited for her to curse at me—only took a second to wait—and then I shoved a finger inside of her. Idiot was she wet. Tight, too. Her walls closed around me, and they tightened even more when my tongue flicked against her clit.

“What the…What are you doing to me?” She gasped, reaching down and grabbing onto my hair, pushing my face deeper between her legs, which she had long ago wrapped around the back of my head.

To answer, I added another finger inside of her. I slowly finger-harassed her and lazily licked at her clit. She was screaming, all right.

“Oh, yes. Yes! Faster. Please! Oh!”

Victoria was almost there. So close. I could hold off, let it simmer and build even more, or I could let her have a taste and then keep on going and hope that this was only going to be the first course for her.

I paused and glanced up at her. Sweat caused her hair to stick to her forehead. Her eyes were closed, her moist lips parted, and a drop of pre-cum eased out of the head of my cock. She was beautiful.

And I was going to harass her, all right.

I was going to harass her all night long.

Chapter 7

Victoria

He was driving me nuts, completely wild. I wasn’t a virgin, and I wasn’t a prude, but the way he was making me feel was beyond anything I had ever experienced before. My legs were shaking. Heck, my entire body was. His touch, his lips, his tongue…oh goodness, his tongue.

If his goal was to keep my minds off things, he had achieved it in spades.

He stopped licking me, and his fingers stopped me. Grant stared down at me. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but, man, was it intense. I already couldn’t breathe, but that look was taking the rest of my breath away.

“Do you have…” I couldn’t finish the question.

“Have what?” His expression didn’t change at first, but then his lips curled into a slow and sexy grin. “Time? We already discussed that.”

I shook my head, and I couldn’t help lifting my hips. I wanted to rub my legs together. The itch he’d started needed to be scratched. He’d promised me something with his lips and tongue and fingers, and he hadn’t delivered on it yet.

“Do I have what, Victoria?”

I closed my eyes. The way he said my name left me breathless. What was I doing? I couldn’t dare read into this too much. This was just a one-time deal. Maybe two times. Three. Until we found Sage and Trenton.

This wasn’t anything serious.

Didn’t mean it couldn’t be seriously good.

I opened my eyes. Grant was still staring down at me, still grinning.

“What do you want me to have?” he asked.

“A condom,” I said breathlessly.

He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Yes, I have condoms,” he said, emphasizing the s. “But I don’t need one.”

My expression fell.

He leaned forward, pressing his chest to mine, and kissed the tip of my nose. “I don’t need one yet.”

“What are you going to do?” I whispered.

“Whatever I feel like…if you have no objections.”

I shook my head. Excitement washed over me like a tidal wave. “No objections.”

He cupped my cheek, trailed his fingers down to my neck, and twisted my head to the side, away from him. “None?”

“Not one.”

He lowered his head, and I could feel his breath on my neck. Although it was hot, I shivered. “Good,” he murmured, and then he bit me. Not hard, and in a totally sexy way.

I never had been bitten before. Never realized how wet it could make me.

Grant sucked my neck, and I grabbed his hair, pulling back and upward so I could kiss him. I was torn between wanting to hold his head in place and rubbing hands all over his hard body, so I did both, one hand roving and scratching and caressing and rubbing, while the other kept him where I could kiss him: his lips, his cheeks, his nose.

When I got to his neck, I returned the favor and bit him, careful not to nip him too hard.

“Harder,” he growled, shoving an arm between me and the bed. He wiggled his way down and grabbed my rear, shoving his cock against me and making me gasp.

“Always harder,” I moaned. I bit him harder.

He grinded against me harder in response.

I raked my nails down his back.

He brought his other hand to my rear, kneading it.

“You’re a jerk man, huh?”

“Rear, belly. Lips, eyes. Anything and everything.”

“Doesn’t take much to turn you on, then.”

“Not when the woman in question looks like you.”

“Charmer.” I licked my lips, and his gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth. “You know what to say to get a girl in bed, and then you know how to pleasure her there.”

“If you think I’ve pleasured you, you haven’t felt anything yet.”

“A promise or a threat?”

“Both wrapped in one.”

I shivered.

“Cold?”

“Perfect,” I whispered.

He eased to one side and rolled me onto my back. His hands felt like magic as he massaged my shoulders, easing out the tension in my neck. His fingers skimmed down my sides, slipping beneath me to squeeze my breasts for a moment before returning to my back. His hands palmed my rear, and then he slapped it.

Holy idiot. He slapped my rear.

And I liked it.

He slapped me again. I jerked, my clit rubbing into the sheets. Goodness, did that feel amazing.

Another slap. More rubbing. Another and oh, man, if this kept up, I was going to come.

I lifted my rear slightly, waiting for the next slap.

It didn’t come.

“Please,” I whimpered.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“Me?” He leaned back down over me, his cock rubbing against my rear. “Am I torturing you?”

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Good.”

Good? Good? Torturing wasn’t good!

I was about to say that when that slap came. Immediately after, he shoved two fingers inside of me, and I was done.

The shockwaves of my orgasm almost had me blindly moving my hips in rhythm with his fingers. Oh my goodness, did it feel good, so good.

I wanted more. I needed more. I had to have more.

Somehow, I managed to lift one leg high enough to move above his hand so I could twist around to face him. His fingers remained inside of me as I sat up, and even though I wanted him to continue to pleasure me, I wanted to give back, so I gripped his wrist and pushed it away.

“My turn,” I said. My heart beat wildly. I normally didn’t take charge during sex. Mostly because there hadn’t been time to. The guys I had been with weren’t exactly marathoners. They had been sprinters. A few times I had to use a toy to finish, otherwise I wouldn’t have orgasmed at all. I would wait until they were asleep—which only took them rolling over—and out came my vibrator. It was sad to say, but toward the end with each guy, I stopped bothering with foreplay in the hopes that they would last longer. It didn’t work.

But with Grant, I didn’t just want to be on the receiving end of the attention for the first time ever. I wanted to give back. I wanted him to feel as good as he was making me feel.

I pushed him back until he was sitting and then back again so he was lying down on the bed. I rubbed his chest—God was he muscular—and the ripples of his abs. Man, was he impressive. I licked and kissed my way from his neck all the way down his torso.

His cock was so big and long and hard. I leaned down, brushed my hair back, and pushed his legs open.

“Ready?” I asked.

His eyes were half lidded. “I can take anything you wanna give me.”

“Good.”

Pre-cum glistened on his cock, so I licked him from the bottom of his cock to the tip. I sucked off the pre-cum, enjoying the way he exhaled sharply, his cock twitching and jerking.

“You like?” I asked.

“Very much.” He reached down and grabbed ahold of my hair.

I pushed his hands away. “Do you trust me?” I asked.

His eyes glittered like hard diamonds. “Yes.”

“Then leave me be,” I ordered.

His eyes widened, and he grinned recklessly. “I don’t think I wanna do that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t want to trust me?”

“I don’t want to leave you be,” he clarified. “Trust I can do. But I don’t think I can just sit back and—what are you doing?”

I was grabbing his discarded shirt. “You’re gonna trust me, and you’re gonna listen, and you’re not gonna interfere.” Using the shirt, I tied his wrist to the headboard. My shirt bound his other wrist. Rubbing my chin, I glanced around.

“No blindfold,” he pleaded.

“Why?” I giggled. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

His cock twitched.

“I want to look at you,” he said softly. “I want to watch you.”

Dang. He knew just what to say. Any more and I would be melting into a puddle. “Fine,” I said coolly, trying to play this off, as if I had tied other guys to their beds before.

Spoiler alert: I hadn’t.

Another spoiler alert: it was hot.

“Are you ready?” I asked him, although I was kind of asking myself, too.

And, yes, I was ready.

“Yes.” He all but groaned the word.

I had given head before. Hadn’t really enjoyed it, though. It had been in the backseat of a car, cramped and tight, and he had wanted it first, and after he had finished, there wasn’t any time left for him to return the favor if I wanted any chance of getting home before curfew. My mom had been a wonderful and kind woman, but she had also been a slave driver, and it wasn’t worth incurring her wrath. But that the guy hadn’t even cared that he had all the fun meant I dumped his rear the next day.

Grant, I knew, wouldn’t be like that. He would return the favor. He wouldn’t disappoint.

He closed his eyes, and I cupped his balls, teasing them, playing with them. My lips kissed the tip of his cock, and it twitched. I giggled again. I loved watching his cock move. I kissed down his length, marveling at his thickness. Goodness, was he huge!

He was trembling, the bed shaking, and I took that as a sign that he was beyond ready.

Opening wide, I took the tip of his cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around it, and he jerked.

I pulled away. “You like?”

“Oh, idiot, you’re killing me.”

His restraints were loosening already. I quickly tightened them. “Behave.”

He winked. “I know you don’t mean that.”

I shivered. No, I didn’t.

I stroked his cock a few times, massaging the tip and gliding all the way down his shaft and up again. Slowly, I took him back into my mouth, the tip and then more and more. Up and down, I bobbed, one hand teasing his balls, the other rubbing the inside of his thighs.

“Idiot,” he muttered. He started to gyrate his hips, my mouth.

With a grin, I glanced up at him, still sucking away. His eyes were closed, his expression one of peace.

Not for long.

I eased my fingers beneath his rear and pressed upward, taking even more of his cock into my mouth. I had to swallow around him, and hot pre-cum came out.

“Stop.”

The simple word tore at me, and I hesitated.

“If you continue…”

I glanced up at him again. His eyes remained closed, but he looked more tortured than at peace.

“If you continue, I’ll come and—”

“Isn’t that the point of all of this?”

“I wanna bother your pussy,” he ground out, eyes flying open.

I winked, feeling reckless and daring. I never felt more in control in the bedroom than I did right now. “Who says you’re only gonna come once?” I asked him.

“Idiot me,” he groaned. He glared at one restraint and then the other.

“I plan on it. With my mouth, with my pussy, with my hand, my breasts.” I shrugged one shoulder. “We’re gonna idiot all night, right?”

He inhaled sharply. “Yes. Let me forget you. Pussy first.”

“Fine.” I straddled his chest and leaned over to untie him. He kissed me, his lips and tongue making contact with my sweaty skin. When he was free, he sat up and grabbed me, grinding me hard, our bodies pressed so close together that nothing separated us. My hands roved over his hot body, and he did the same. His hair was a mess, and he had a few hickies. He looked good and sexed and we weren’t even done yet.

“Condoms,” he muttered after breaking off a kiss that had me curling my toes.

He eased me away and reached over to his nightstand, sprawling out over half the bed. When he opened the drawer, I grabbed his cock and pumped it a few times. He stilled, and another drop of pre-cum appeared. I bent down and licked it clean.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered.

“Death by orgasm.” I giggled. “Not a bad way to go.”

He yanked a roll of condoms out and ripped one open, but I grabbed it from him, pushing him to lie onto his back.

Channel your inner porn star.

Everyone had an inner porn star, right?

I opened my mouth, popped the condom in the O of my lips, and eased it onto his cock. Unrolling it with my mouth wasn’t easy, and it took some time, but from the way Grant was moaning, he sure didn’t mind.

The moment it was completely on him, he sat up again. “Ready to have your brains messed out of you?”

“Idiot away,” I breathed.

And he did. He slammed into me without warning, and I cried out. He went fast and hard and deep, and I swore I could see stars. He sucked on my neck and pinched my nipples, and I clawed at his back, needing to claim him. This was about give and take, and I was going to take and give back.

I rolled my hips in rhythm with his thrusts, and the buildup was incredible. A few more thrusts and I’d be gone.

I didn’t want to come first, but, oh goodness, I was going to come soon. Remembering how much it had turned me on, I slapped his rear a few times. His growl and his biting my neck pushed me over the edge. I had just enough awareness to reach down and tickle the edge of his balls, and he was coming, too.

Idiot. That was amazing.

He continued to thrust, and I rode that wave, bouncing up and down on his lap. I stopped rolling my hips first, and then he ceased thrusting.

I brushed my sweaty hair back. “Ready for round two?” I asked.

Grant picked me up and laid me on the bed. The look in his eyes made me squirm and caused my muscles to tighten.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice low.

“Idiot yes,” I whispered.

Yeah, there was no sleeping to be had that night.

Chapter 8

Grant

I woke up with my arms around a woman. It had been a long time since that had last happened. Normally I woke up first and dashed, or she did. I wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around. Have a good lay and walk away. That was what I did.

But waking up to Victoria was something else. We had gone several rounds last night, and we didn’t fall asleep until around five in the morning. It was only ten now, and I wasn’t sure what had woken me.

She shuddered in her sleep and clung to me closer. Her eyes were moving rapidly beneath her eyelids, and I couldn’t help myself. I kissed her forehead.

Victoria sighed, settling against me.

I chuckled softly, my chest rumbling. She didn’t stir.

I didn’t know a lot about her. Idiot, there was too much I didn’t know about her. But I did know she was loyal and fierce and frightened. She was desperate and a fighter. She would do anything for Sage, for her family.

She reminded me of myself in some ways.

“You weren’t meant for this,” I murmured, brushing her hair back so I could stroke her cheek.

“Meant for what?” she asked groggily, her eyes still closed.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “It’s all right. Not meant for what?” she repeated.

I grimaced. I hadn’t meant for her to hear that.

“Meant for…” Her eyes widened with understanding. “Yeah, well, meant for or not, doesn’t matter. Sage…I’ll admit that she went through a really rough patch right after her mom went to jail. She wasn’t suicidal or anything like that, but she did a lot of reckless, dangerous things, pulled a lot of stunts, that kind of thing. Getting her to let me in, to trust me, to let herself have a real parent for once took a long time. Her mom never was meant to be a parent, and then she found herself with an adopted mom who actually gave her rules and cared about what happened to her. She didn’t realize just how things would be when she agreed to my adopting her.”

“It’s not easy being a parent.”

She jerked back slightly. “Are you speaking from experience?”

I laughed long and loud. “No. Not yet. Maybe one day.”

Victoria side-eyed me. “You sure?”

I laughed some more. “Don’t trust me? I’m not lying. Well, I guess you could say if I’m a father to anyone, it would be Trenton.”

Her lips pursed.

“Prodigal son,” I muttered. And I gave her a few details about his past, but I did keep the detail about finding the drugs in his apartment from her.

“I had no idea about the drugs.” Her lips pursed.

“I’ll admit I don’t know much about his relationship with your daughter, so we kinda had been growing apart. I’ve been busy with other stuff, and he seemed to be doing fine. I’m sure I would’ve seen or been notified by one of the guys if anyone saw or suspected he was messing around again.”

She stiffened. “You don’t think Sage did any, do you?”

“Like I said, I didn’t know much about her and him together, so I don’t know much about her at all. But lately it seemed to me Trenton was doing well, and maybe that was a reflection of their relationship.”

She flushed. “I don’t think Sage would ever do drugs. Not after her mom.”

“Her mom?”

“She loved her drugs too much, preferred them to her daughter. She was a waitress for me, and that was how I got to know Sage in the first place. She was just a young girl then. She still is a young girl. Nineteen.” Victoria had a faraway look in her eyes. “I adopted her to try to give her a real shot at life. I want her to have it all. And I know she can be so much more than what her mom was. She can do so much with her life.”

My stomach twisted sourly. “You didn’t like her with Trenton, did you?”

Victoria glanced away. “No,” she said after a long moment. “Do you blame me?”

I wanted to argue, but I stopped and thought about it. She had a point to some extent. “Everyone makes mistakes, right?” I asked after a long while.

“Yes, but—”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

She said nothing.

“I know he doesn’t seem like the best of guys, especially now that you know about his dark past, his issues, but if she could turn him around, make him a better guy, doesn’t that mean he’s good for her?” A pang of guilt hit me. That bag of drugs. That wasn’t good. No doubt about it. Maybe I was just making excuses for him because I wanted him to be a decent guy. I wanted him to turn it around. Maybe I had a blind spot when it came to the guy.

“You’re right. I gave Sage a second chance at life by adopting her. And I haven’t seen Trenton be overly chauvinistic toward her lately. Maybe she is helping him to not be such an…” She cleared her throat. “Ah…”

“Chauvinistic? Maybe he’s been brainwashed by that book and movie about that rich guy who liked to spank his girls.”

Victoria sat up and crossed her arms. “Books and movies aren’t a reason to be a jerk.”

“No, but some guys like to be in charge.”

“To be the alpha dog, huh?”

I grinned and pulled back toward me. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“I’m not sure I like that idea.”

“Why not?”

“If you’re some kind of alpha dog, what does that make me?” She flushed. “I’m not your jerk.”

“Of course not. You don’t want me to be an alpha, fine. I won’t be. But I still like to be in charge sometimes.”

Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink. “So long as I get a chance to be in charge, too.”

I reached for her nipple and rolled into between my fingers. “I think I can live with that.”

And we had another round right then and there.

***

After a late lunch, I checked in with the guys. So far, there was nothing to report, which didn’t surprise me, but Victoria was disappointed, and I couldn’t blame her.

“We’ll find them,” I promised.

“Not if we’re in bed all day long.” She glowered at me.

I crossed my arms, flexing them. “You’re gonna pin that on me? If I remember correctly, you pinned me.”

She flipped her hair back, a sexy move that didn’t look practiced and made it all the more sultry. “If we’re gonna…you know…it can’t affect finding them.”

I gripped her shoulders and stared her straight in the eyes. “I promise you. Our activities won’t affect anything.”

Her eyebrows arched at my word choice, and I grimaced. “Activities” wasn’t the greatest term, but what could I call it?? Sex? Making love? Amazing, that was what it was.

“Good.” She sighed as she nodded, a slight curl to her lips. “I don’t want that to end.” Victoria flushed, and I could tell she didn’t know how I was going to take hearing that.

Honestly, I didn’t know how to take it. She seemed like a great gal and all that, but I wasn’t really looking for a long-term thing. And we only crossed paths because of her daughter and Trenton having gone missing. It seemed kind of random. Or maybe not. Maybe our paths would’ve crossed anyway because of Sage and Trenton. Maybe the universe wanted us together.

I wasn’t the kind of guy to believe in coincidences. I had seen too much trash over the years to believe things were random. There was a reason to everything, even if we didn’t always know what it was. So, we were forced together. Maybe it was only to find our people. Maybe then we would split up and go our separate ways.

Which was fine. We could enjoy the high stakes and enjoy each other at the same time, and then go back to our lives once Trenton and Sage were found. But what if they weren’t found alive? Could I just leave Victoria to her misery? And I would be crushed, too, if Trenton didn’t make it. He could be a good guy; I know he could. He just had to want it. At some point, you had to cut the strings and let them fly or fall.

Looked to me like Trenton was falling, but only time would tell if he was going to crash and burn. And if he was going to take Sage down with him.

“Someone’s thinking hard,” she remarked, drawing me out of my wonderings.

“I don’t think hard. I work hard. I play hard.” I wiggled my eyebrows and grinned recklessly at her. “I idiot hard.”

“Hm. Hard is right,” she said, smiling back, but her eyes were sad. She was slipping away from me, back into her misery. Our time was at night, when the lights were out, and we could cuddle together, taking away each other’s hurts and pains with caresses, kisses, and orgasms. Right now, the days belonged to the search.

I cleared my throat. “I’ve arranged for two guys to go in tonight. We already have the wire set up.”

“Would it be smarter to have three guys? Four?” She bit her lower lip. “Or would a large group draw too much attention?”

Always a thinker. I liked that. “Probably draw too much attention.”

“Even if they all came in by ones at scattered times and kept to themselves? Or one group of two, and two other groups of singles? I just didn’t have a good feeling there, Grant. Something’s up.”

“I agree. Something is definitely up there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s in conjunction with Trenton and Sage and their disappearance.”

Her expression fell. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. I just want them found, you know?”

“So do I. Believe me. So do I.”

Just then, her cell rang. She grabbed her phone, answered it, and left the room. Keeping a secret from me? I had to admit I was curious, and it burned me to think she might be keeping something from me. Not that that was something I should be feeling, considering I hadn’t mentioned the drugs to her.

I wearily wiped a hand down my face. This whole thing was a mess, and maybe it wasn’t fair for me to keep the drugs from her. She knew about Trenton’s past, but she didn’t know that drugs might have remained in his life or made a reappearance.

Would telling her make her go off and leave? That wouldn’t be safe for her. Maybe I shouldn’t risk telling her.

Chapter 9

Victoria

When I saw the call was from Corinne I had to take it. Considering I had no idea what she would say, and that her voice could carry like crazy—there had been times when I would be in a different room from Sage and still hear Corinne’s responses when they were on the phone—I had to leave.

I found an empty room that looked like an office and camped out there, sitting at a desk. “Corinne. Have you heard from Sage?”

“What? No. Sorry. I needed—”

“Have you tried calling her?” I interrupted her sharply.

“Yeah. Course I did. You really think I was just gonna up and call you when I could call her? Well, I did try calling her, but she didn’t pick up. Not sure what’s going on with her lately.”

That last bit of her rambling caught my attention. “What do you mean, not sure what’s going on with her lately.” I racked my brain. Had she been acting differently before she went missing? I didn’t think so, but she did spend as much time with Corinne as she did with me.

“Nothing major, really. She just didn’t want to hang as much. Which killed me. Believe me. I mean, Jack and I are tight. Super tight. And Jack and Trenton don’t jive, ya know? So it had been a little weird. And with Sage always wanting to spend time with Trenton, it made inviting them to come with us to the beach a no-go. Which sucked! My last guy, Ned, he and Trenton got along so great. No, wait, Ryan was between Ned and Jack. Anyhow, Ned and me, and Sage and Trenton all went to the beach together last summer, and it was such a freakin’ blast. But this time, Jack and I found that cove, and we had sex—”

“That’s enough,” I said dryly. “So the whole ‘not sure what’s going on’ is just because she picked Trenton over you?”

“Yeah.” Corinne, who always sounded so upbeat and bubbly, sounded down in the dumps. “We always swore we would never let a guy come between us. Blood sisters, and all that. And now she won’t answer her phone or her email. And I really need to talk to her.”

“What about?” I asked, inwardly cringing that it might be able something I didn’t want to hear.

“Jack. Ever since I told him Ian had been able to make me orgasm three times in a row, he’s being pissy with me. And the thing is, I lied about Ian! I just wanted Jack to try a little harder. He always finishes. I wanna finish, too. Is that too much to ask? No, right? But I guess I made him feel inadequate, and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Here’s an idea,” I said dryly. “Don’t lie to your boyfriend.”

“It was the truth! Stretched out a bit, yes, but it wasn’t a complete lie!”

“Omissions are lie,s too. You have to be honest. Would you want him to stretch the truth with you?”

“If we’re talking about whether or not a dress makes my rear look huge, a stretch would be appreciated if it’s necessary. Which it’s not. My rear looks great in everything.”

“Modesty,” I breathed, rolling my eyes.

“What’s that?”

I exhaled loudly. “If you really like Jack and want to be with him for a while…” Because no way was Corinne gonna be settling down anytime soon. “You might want to start telling him the truth.”

Movement at the doorway had me glancing up. Grant stood there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He gave me a nod and smile when I mouthed, “Give me a sec,” but then his expression turned dour when he thought I wasn’t looking anymore. My stomach tightened. Bad news?

“I hope things work out with Jack,” I said in an effort to wrap up the conversation. “If—”

“He’s the only guy who ever gave me an O during sex!” she wailed. “Granted, it’s not every time, but is it too much to ask for multiple Os? I just…I don’t know. And you’re not the person to ask, are you? I mean, when was the last time you spread your legs?”

“Corinne!” I admonished. My cheeks were burning, and they only grew hotter when I noticed Grant was trying to hold back laughter. Of course he could hear her. The dead could hear her!

“Not that I wanna know when you last had sex,” she continued.

“Look, Corinne, I’m gonna stop you right there. I don’t wanna know about your sex life either and—”

“Sorry. Geez. Sage told me once that you’re really understanding, and I totally didn’t believe her because, like, you’re her mom, right? Parents never really care. They claim to, but they don’t. It’s only because of blood, and I know you and her aren’t really related but…”

Ouch, did that burn. She sure knew how to knife someone in the gut.

“But she always said she could come to you, tell you anything. That you might get upset, but that you wouldn’t judge. My mom’s not much better than Sage’s. She basically a…She goes from one sugar daddy to another. I can’t come to her with trash like this because she thinks I should find an older, wealthy guy and suck his toe and take his money. That’s not what I’m about. I might harass a lot of guys, but I wanna find the right guy, ya know? One who is a good guy and a good lay, and I’m starting to think that’s a fairytale. I just thought…with Sage not being around, that you could, you know, talk to me some. Help me work it out. But—”

“Corinne,” I said more quietly. “I didn’t know about your mom.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not something I broadcast. Not exactly something I’m proud of. But she’s my mom, you know? I love her.”

“I’m not judging you. I didn’t think it was appropriate to talk to you about this because I’m not your mom, but if you can’t talk to yours…” I blew out a breath. “Does Jack make you happy?”

“Most of the time.”

“Do you enjoy spending time with him?”

“Heck yeah!”

“Outside of the bedroom,” I clarified.

“Oh. Sometimes.”

“Is sometimes enough for you?” I asked softly.

For once, there was silence on the other end of the line.

“Maybe you should take a day and just do what you wanna do. Separate from him. And separate from other guys, too,” I felt the need to add. “See who you are when it’s just you.”

“Just be by myself? And do what?”

“Do you have any hobbies?”

“Guess sex doesn’t count.”

“No.”

“I…I kinda don’t know who I am without a guy,” she admitted.

“How does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. I guess I can do that. One day can’t hurt, right?”

“Sure!”

“Watch Netflix, eat ice cream…”

“Or go out to the movies,” I suggested. Something to get her outside. “Do you like to paint? Maybe there’s an art class or something.”

“You mean you want me to do stuff with random strangers?” She sounded horrified.

“I mean do things that might help you connect with others on a nonsexual level. You know, what’s the word?”

“Friendship?”

“Yes!”

“Okay. I’ll try. Not expecting much, but it can’t hurt any. Thanks, Sage’s Mom.”

I laughed. She always called me that.

“Guess you aren’t too bad with the advice thing.” And she hung up.

I rubbed my forehead. “You heard how much?”

“Enough.” Grant chuckled, the sound low and deep, and I found my gaze roving down his body, hesitating over his lips, over the swell of his crossed arms, down his shirt that covered his six-pack, to below his belt.

“Sage’s best friend,” I said by way to clarify.

“Gotcha. She hasn’t heard from her I take it.”

“Nope.” I exhaled. “She’s basically making me her substitute best friend.” I braced myself. “I take it you came here to talk about something other than Corinne and her oversharing.”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath himself.

“You have a new lead.” I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding. It couldn’t be a good one. “Don’t tell me. They’re alive, aren’t they? They have to be.” My hands flew to my throat. I couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know. I haven’t found them. No further lead than what we already have except…” He grimaced.

I slapped my palms onto the table. “Just spit it out!” I snapped.

“I found something in Trenton’s apartment. I hoped that it wasn’t connected, but that might be—most likely is—wishful thinking.” He closed his eyes.

My blood ran cold as a guess came to mind based on everything Grant had told me about Trenton. I’d admit that I had a lot more sympathy for the guy after I learned what kind of upbringing he had, but becoming a user wasn’t the answer. It seemed like Grant had done everything he could to help clean up Trenton, and it seemed to me Trenton had cleaned himself up the rest of the way. I never once thought Trenton had been high around me, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have gone drugs when he hadn’t been around me.

That he might have introduced Sage to drugs made me want to kill him. Sage was impressionable. She constantly was looking for attention because her mother had never given her any. I tried to make up for it, but let’s be honest, a teenage girl wanted more attention from a guy than her adopted mom. And Trenton did give her plenty of attention—not that all of it was positive.

“Drugs. You found drugs in his place.” I stared at Grant.

He nodded. “I didn’t tell you right away because…”

“You want to shield me, protect my memory of Sage, in case anything should happen to her, in case we find her…” I couldn’t say it.

“I should’ve told you.”

“You did tell me.” I rubbed my jaw. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible thing if—and it was a big if—we could use it to find them safe and sound. “Do you know who his supplier used to be? Do they have a connection to the bar? We have another angle to work.”

“Getting into the drug world isn’t simple.”

I made a scoffing sound. “Even I could find access to drugs if I wanted them.”

“Access is one thing. Intel into who is dealing what and the inner working details, that’s another thing. It’s why agents have to go deep undercover for years to be able to bust up huge drug circles.”

“So what you’re saying is we can’t use it to our advantage.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I’ve had a few run-ins with his old crewmates. They know my face.”

“So it is a dead end.” I winced. Terrible word choice. It was a horrible phrase overall. No one should use it ever.

“They know my face,” he clarified, “but I do have someone in the loop. One of my guys is inside. Someone Trenton doesn’t even know is a member of Devil’s Horns. It’s not that I don’t trust Trenton. It’s just that I know how devastating drugs can be, how much of a hold they can have on people. Once a user, always a user isn’t always true. People can overcome addiction. It’s not easy, though, and relapses can and do happen. I just wanted to know if they ever came back around. It isn’t always easy to walk away from drugs, from both ends of it.”

“You also wanted to know if he ever came back around to it.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he nodded. “I thought he was doing better. He sure had me fooled.”

“Have you asked your guys if they thought he was using again?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away.

“They thought so, huh?” I assumed.

Curiously, his right hand closed into a fist.

“So they didn’t think so.” I furrowed my brows, confused, but then it hit me. “You don’t think he was using. You think he was dealing!” Oh idiot. That was worse, wasn’t it? Idiot! “If he is selling…” I swallowed hard. I felt lightheaded and had to try to focus on my breathing so I didn’t pass out. “Do you think they’re in trouble? That they might be dead already?”

Grant crossed over to me and embraced me tight against his chest. He rubbed my back, and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the strong sound of his steady heartbeat. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think poorly of Sage. I didn’t want you to lose hope.”

Tears burned my eyes. It would be easy to crumble, to burst into tears, to scream and rage against the injustice of it all. It would be so easy to just lie down and roll over and give up.

It would be so difficult to fight through the pain, to ignore the worry, to turn my fear into fury, to dare to not give up on that hope.

To try to find them, even if we only end up finding their bodies, or worse, finding out what had happened to them with their bodies being unable to be recovered.

Blinking away my tears, I took a deep, body-shuddering breath. I never had been one to take the easy route. If I had, I would still be a waitress. No. I was a businesswoman. I was a go-getter. I was determined.

I was a mom.

And I would do whatever it took to get my daughter back.

Chapter 10

Grant

I could almost see the gears churning in Victoria’s head, and I fought back a grin. She was no damsel in distress, and if that was the case, what was her daughter like? She had been through hell, just like Trenton. In an ideal world, the two broken kids would’ve been able to work through their troubles together and come out stronger for it. They would be perfect together and end up married and have two point five kids and a house with a white picket fence.

But this world was far from ideal, and they could be heading down a very different and dangerous path instead, one filled with vice and darkness and drugs. Maybe death, too.

Had Trenton gotten Sage into drugs? Doubtful. Victoria would’ve noticed a chance in her daughter’s behavior, and it also seemed unlikely that Trenton was doing the drugs himself. Which did suggest he was dealing. Was Sage helping him? Were they partners? Or was Sage innocent in all of this? Only involved because she was hung up on a bad boy?

“I haven’t lost hope,” Victoria said, squeezing me tightly for a moment before stepping back slightly to look up at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t give up hope until we find out what happened to them.”

The steely resolve in her eyes and the fire burning there all made for one very determined woman. A woman who looked hotter every second.

She grinned slightly and pushed me away. “Calm down, tiger,” she murmured. “We have an undercover operation to finish setting up.”

I adjusted myself—she had felt me digging into her, but could she really get upset that she had turned me on?—and I grabbed her hand and brought her outside. We got onto my bike, and we rode over to the bar. Holding her hand again, I had her follow me up to the office, where Daryl and Charlie were already there, waiting on us.

I slapped the guys on their backs. “Guys, this is Victoria. Sage’s mom.”

“No way,” Daryl said, gaping at her and giving her a once-over. “This bird is the mom of Trenton’s bird? She’s too young for that. You had her when you were two or something?”

Victoria gave a tight smile. “Adopted mother,” she said.

I smacked Daryl upside the head. “Knock it off.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“This fool is Daryl, and I’m Charlie.” He held out his hand. “I’m sorry. Daryl should’ve been named Richard instead.”

Daryl frowned. “What are you talkin’ ’bout?”

“Dick. You should’ve been named Dick.” Charlie smirked.

I sighed. “You both need to can it with the jokes and get serious.”

“Yessir.” Charlie saluted me. He had been in the military, just for a stint to be able to pay for his college. He was a hacker, and a darn good one at that. He was a major asset to the team.

“Got it, boss.” Daryl nodded. That was as serious as he could get.

Victoria shook her head. “You guys don’t have to be serious on my account. If you need to joke around to whatever, go for it.”

“Good.” Daryl winked and pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “I can’t ever be serious for long.”

I wagged a finger at him. “He’s a clown, all right, but that’ll work in our favor. His jokes make others feel comfortable, and when they’re comfortable, they start talking.”

“I make people feel at ease and make ’em give me their secrets.” Daryl winked again. “And if my jokes don’t work, I can turn on the charm and crack ’em that way.”

“So, here’s the drill. Daryl, you’re gonna go in and work the people. I want you talking to everyone. Customers, servers, the cook if you can. Don’t leave out anyone.”

“Got it.”

“Charlie, you’re gonna do the snooping. The back area seemed to be watched, so you might wanna start there. Be careful, and don’t get caught. If you can, see if you can hack into their system. See what they’re hiding. Because even if they aren’t involved with Trenton and Sage going missing, they’re messin’ in something, and it’s always a good idea to have dirt on people.”

“Dirt on people.” Victoria blinked. “You often try to find skeletons in closets so you can squeeze people and businesses?”

“We might’ve turned in a few businesses once or twice,” I admitted. “I might not like the police or being a snitch, but it’s good to have them on our side.”

“Yet you don’t want the police to help find Trenton.” She crossed her arms. “Care to explain that?”

“Because of the drug connection. And because the police aren’t always loyal friends. Some are corrupt, and some don’t give a hoot about anyone. Some are all about the law. It’s complicated.”

“Everything with you is complicated,” she muttered. “Do the police know Trenton did drugs? Was he ever arrested?”

“Trenton was a lot of things, but he was also smart. He never got caught. He hid it well, just not well enough from me.” My lips curled downward. “’Til now.”

“I just can’t believe you would be in bed with the cops and—”

“Do you know how many motorcycle clubs get a bad rap?” I demanded. “We show up and we get the blame for whatever trash is going down, even if we don’t have a blasted thing to do with it. Besides, the only businesses we turned in are ones that screwed us over. One time, this place—”

“I don’t need the details.” She held up a hand, and I found myself staring at her fingers. She knew just where to touch me to make me beg, to make me groan.

I shook my head. Now was not the time to get all hot and bothered. “You guys clear on the plan?”

“All set.” Charlie nodded.

“Clear and ready.” Daryl grinned, but there was that glint in his eyes. I always could count on him. He knew when to cool it down. “If they’ve got anything on our guys, we’ll sniff it out.”

“All right. Let’s eat dinner and then you should go. Don’t want you two poking around before the after-dinner crowd gets there. You’ll stick out too much if there aren’t enough people there.”

I ordered a bunch of sandwich platters and ate my fill. Victoria picked at her food at first, but the more she talked with some of the guys, the more she seemed to relax, and then she started to eat.

While she was relaxing, though, I was getting more anxious. I was a man of action. I wanted to be the one out there snooping and asking question. I had no issue with delegating work, but this was different. Trenton was part of the club, and everyone wanted him back, but none more so than me.

Once Daryl and Charlie finished eating, they slipped out the back. They were going to take separate cars and different routes there so they wouldn’t arrive at the same time.

Victoria excused herself to the bathroom.

I helped the other guys clean up the room then grabbed Hank by the arm. “You’ve travelled a lot. I want you to write me down a list of towns one hundred miles north of here.”

Hank nodded. “Can do.”

“Supposedly Trenton and Sage might’ve gone to a town that way. Got the info from Cowboy’s Lasso. Not sure it’s good info, but—”

“Gotta chase down every lead.” Hank nodded. “I miss it,” he muttered. “Camping out every night. Hitchhiking. It’s a rush, man. You gotta do it someday.”

“Someday,” I agreed. I would never hitchhike across the country, though. But with my bike? Maybe. Would be great to explore everywhere.

Victoria walked past the room and continued on down the hall, her cell to her ear. Now I wouldn’t want to go on a trip across the US like that by myself. If I had the right woman to go along with me…

Might be the best way to get over our grief.

Because I had a feeling that things weren’t going well for Trenton and Sage. And if we found them dead instead of alive, it was going to take a lot for us all to get through it. Leaving on a trip might actually be a smart way to try to sort through things.

But Victoria was picking hope, and maybe I should try to take a page out of her book. I’m the one being realistic, though.

Hank nodded again and walked off. Probably going to track down an atlas. He wasn’t one much for phones or computers. He really did like to rough it old school style, although the one piece of technology he did enjoy was a bike, of course.

Daryl was supposed to arrive at the bar in ten minutes, so I left to find Victoria. She was pacing in the hallway, her cell in her hand. She had just hung up.

“Everything all right?”

Her eyes were stormy. “Of course not. I can’t trust anyone to handle anything without needing to be babysat.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It’s the restaurant. Heather Franklin, the one I left in charge so I can help track down Sage? Well, she just called me to say she screwed up and didn’t place an order for the meat we use to make our homemade meatballs. And we run a special every Tuesday night on spaghetti and meatballs. If we don’t have the meat, no meatballs, no happy costumers, no money.” She yanked on her hair. “I have to try to deal with this. Not that I want to, but…”

“You can trust me.”

She blinked as if only realizing now that she was talking to me and not fuming to herself.

“The boys and I have got this. You go handle things with your restaurant.”

“But—”

“Would Sage want you to lose the restaurant over her?”

Victoria’s eyes clouded over. “I’m not gonna lose the restaurant over this!”

“I didn’t mean…” I sighed and held out my hand. “I just don’t think she would want you to risk anything for her. Not the restaurant, not your life.”

Her expression softened. “I don’t care about myself. Only about her.”

“And that’s the mom in you. But you’re also a business owner. Think about your employees. Obviously you’re the engine that keeps that place running because it’s already falling apart without you. You’re also a woman with needs. And…do you have sisters, brothers? What about parents? You’re also a friend, and—”

“And I get your point.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “I should be able to handle everything over the phone. Hopefully. Is there an office or a room I can use?”

“Sure.” I had her follow me to a small room that was mostly used for storage since the office was ready for the wiretap. I released her hand to grab a chair from the dining area and brought it in for her. “Take as long as you need. I gotta get set up with the wire so I can listen in. You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”

She grabbed my hand and yanked hard, forcing me to lower down to her. Her other hand wrapped around my neck, and she kissed me hard. Just a quick kiss, but it was enough to get my blood flowing.

“I’m counting on you,” she whispered. “I don’t like to delegate. I don’t like relying on others. Don’t let me down.”

The last words were almost a plea.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t. I promise.”

She kissed me again and settled down in the chair, already dialing someone.

I left her to her work and rushed back to the office. I was just putting the earpiece in when I could hear Daryl’s voice loud and clear, “You hear me, boss?”

“Yeah. You might wanna keep your voice down.”

“Calm yourself. I’m just parking now.” The whir of the engine died. “All right. Walking in now.”

A few of the others guys came in, so I opted to switch over so they could all listen in, too.

Daryl mingled with the other customers first, laughing and joking around, paying for drinks and accepting drinks in return. I sure hoped he was nursing them. When Daryl got drunk, he tended to get a little belligerent.

He used the angle that he was hoping to split up Trenton and Sage because “I want Savannie all to myself.” He painted Trenton as a punk, as a lousy jerk, as someone not deserving. All of the ladies ate it up and gushed about how “Savannie” should open up her eyes and get with him, but none of them knew where she was. The guys didn’t understand why Daryl didn’t just get with her. Who cared if she was with another guy?

I shook my head at that. If there was one thing I hated, it was cheating. Sure, I might only be with a woman for a night or two, but during that time, I was a one-woman man. Didn’t loyalty mean anything to anyone anymore?

Next, Daryl started to flirt with a few of the waitresses. The night seemed to be hopping—at times it was so loud I couldn’t catch every word Daryl was saying, let alone the person he was talking to—but the waitresses made time for him.

One mentioned that Sage did seem like she was too good for Trenton. “I wouldn’t serve her any alcohol. Some of the others might but not me. Got a few kids back at home that need me to have this job so I can buy them food. Can’t risk doing anything shady. Anyhow, when they sat in my section one time, and Trenton realized I wouldn’t get her a beer, he threw a fit. Tried to get me fired. This was two months ago. The owner actually came out and told him to leave, but Trenton and Sage came back the next night, and no one batted an eye or made him leave.”

I grimaced. Even when Trenton had been on drugs he hadn’t acted like that, not ever. Drugs could change someone’s personality, but he had tended to be more full of himself than anything. Not angry.

Stress. Maybe that was the cause of his anger. And fear. Worry. If he was dealing for shady characters, if he had double-crossed them or was considering to pull a fast one, that could make him anxious. It could also explain why he felt the need to just drop off the face of the earth.

“See? That’s why he shouldn’t be allowed ’round here. Or be with Sage.” Daryl sounded plain disgusted.

“He hasn’t been around lately at least,” the waitress said, sounding relieved. “She hasn’t either.”

Daryl frowned. “I swear I’m not a stalker. It’s my first time being here. I heard Sage came here, and I was hoping to see her, to be honest. Wanted to buy her food and…What’s the smile for?”

“‘Buy her food’? Are you kidding me?”

“Well, like you said, she’s underage…Legal, but no drinky drinky.”

“Look. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know what goes on, and…What you wanna do is your business. Don’t involve me any.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, and I know you’re busy. It’s just…Savannie…Sage…she’s a good girl. She deserves better than him, and I just wanna make sure she’s all right.”

There was a slight pause, and then the waitress said, “She and I talked a few times, on the very rare occasions when she came without Trenton. She’s a good kid, but she’s hung up on the guy. I don’t know if it’s because he was her first lay, or what, but she’s kinda stuck on him in a bad way. She’s not gonna dump him for you. If it makes you feel any better, she’s not gonna dump him for anyone else either. She reminds me a lot of my best friend, actually. They’re both gone over a guy who is bad news and can’t see it.”

“Why is it that jerks always end up with the girls?” Daryl grumbled.

I had to smirk. As if Daryl wasn’t one of those jerks himself. And I meant that with love. A few of the others guys laughed, too.

“Nice guys always finish last,” Daryl complained.

A strange sound filtered over the wire. A snort maybe?

“Don’t kid yourself. You aren’t one of the good ones.” The waitress laughed. “Take some advice and find another girl.”

“What about you?” Daryl asked smoothly.

“Not gonna happen. I have kids, remember? Sure that does fit the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

“Hey, I like kids,” he protested. “Here. Have a drink later on me.”

“But why?”

“You have kids, remember? Sure they drove you to wanna drink at some point. And I bet you don’t take a lot of time for yourself.”

“I don’t.” She might have said something else, but there was a sudden cheer in the background that drowned out her words.

“What’s going on?” I risked asking Daryl through the small earbud he had.

“Shake that rear!” he yelled then whispered for me, “Girl dancing on table just took off her shirt.”

Should’ve guessed.

Daryl went and talked to a few other people who just entered the bar, but they didn’t know anything about Trenton or Sage.

“Gonna try the bartenders next,” Daryl whispered. It was quitter now, and I figured he was in the bathroom.

The distinct sound of piss came over the wire.

Yeah, bathroom all right. Gross.

“Might have to wait, though,” he continued, “’til closer to closing. Too many people at the bar for me to even get near them right now.”

Considering that he wouldn’t have anything of note to listen in on, I switched over to Charlie. “How’s it going?”

“Security is tighter than a jerk,” Charlie mumbled. “Sorry. Is Victoria listening in?”

“Not right this second.”

“Yeah, tighter than a jerk. Too many guards. They aren’t typical bouncers. I think they’re packing. This place definitely has a secret.”

“Be careful. If you can’t snoop, don’t worry about it. It’s not worth risking your life over.”

“Copy that. I’m trying to hack into their system, but it’s taking me some time.”

“Can’t you hack them from here?” one of my guys asked, and I repeated the question for Charlie.

“Nope. Have to be on site.”

I let him get back to work, not wanting to disrupt his concentration. The more we dug our claws into this place, the more I didn’t like it. The idea that their guards were packing heat at a place that served alcohol made my skin crawl. Drinking and guns should never coexist. What were those jerks up to? Did it have anything to do with Trenton and Sage? Did it have a connection to the drugs Trenton had stashed away?

If Trenton had double-crossed someone, he might be dead. If he had run away from someone, he might’ve been found. If he gotten himself into trouble, why hadn’t he come to me and asked for help? He should’ve realized I would have his back. He was part of the Devil’s Horns. He was one of us.

Maybe I had been too hard on him. Maybe I had pushed him too hard to get cleaned up. Maybe he should’ve gone to rehab instead of just using me as his sponsor. After all, I did weed a few times back in the day. I had never done any of the hard stuff. I hadn’t gone through what he had, not the drugs or the abusive trash he had to try to overcome. He hadn’t needed me as a mentor. He needed more help than I could’ve ever given him. He needed a real sponsor and maybe a shrink, too.

I tried to do everything for my boys. My family meant everything to me. If someone screwed with us, we handled it as a team. That was the real reason why we would sometimes be police informants—to take down our enemies. It was the safest way to do it with minimal risk to my guys.

But calling in the police here when we knew for a fact that guns were involved and with the innocents at the bar, it was just big of a threat. I wouldn’t gamble innocent lives. We were on our own.

“Incredible. I’m locked out. I can’t find a way in.” Charlie’s voice sounded in disbelief. “They got tighter security going on than the military. What the heck?”

“Get out of there,” I ordered. I switched back to Daryl. The bar still sounded loud and obnoxious in the background. “How’s it going?”

“Going,” he muttered, then said louder, “You sure I can’t buy you a drink?”

“I’m working.”

“What about after you punch out?”

“I don’t date customers.”

“I haven’t bought anything here.”

“Just because you haven’t had me ring you up—”

“Oh, yeah, talk dirty to me.”

I couldn’t hear her reaction.

“Get outta there, Daryl,” I ordered.

“But I only just started to talk to—”

“You heard me.”

He grumbled, taking his time saying goodbye to practically everyone in the joint, before heeding my advice. Only after I could hear the sound of his car, and Charlie’s, too, did I turn off the system.

My mind was racing. We hadn’t learned much, but we also had learned something. That bar was definitely a front, but for what? A gang? Drugs? Weapons?

Victoria came into the room, her frown tugging at me, causing my stomach to twist into knots.

“Everything all right with your restaurant?” I asked, standing and walking over to her.

She glanced around me to the equipment. “They’re done already? What did they find out?”

I stared at the guys then the door, and they nodded and left us in peace without my having to ask them to go. “Charlie couldn’t hack in, and he couldn’t do much snooping either.”

“Too guarded.” She pursed her lips. “Wasn’t just me they wanted to keep out.”

“Nope. Your daughter had a waitress for a friend, but we didn’t learn a whole lot.”

“From the way you talked up Charlie, he should’ve been able to hack in. So they have someone really good on their side, and that they need someone that good says plenty.”

“You got it. And, Victoria, before you even think about going back there,” I began.

“Who me?” she asked innocently.

“Their guards have guns.”

Her face drained, making her look like a vampire. “That’s not good,” she whispered.

“No.” I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll keep you safe.”

She pulled away. “I’m not worried about me.”

“I know. Maybe I should’ve said one less worry for you.”

A teensy smile appeared on her lips, so small I might’ve been imagining it. “I think I fixed everything with the restaurant. It’s amazing how much people rely on you to do things and how much things can fall apart if you aren’t there to do them yourself.”

“That’s why you’re the boss. You can juggle everything.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also why I haven’t taken a vacation ever.”

“Ever? Not even when you were a waitress?”

“I couldn’t afford to. I needed the money. And I’m kinda a workaholic so there’s that. I just wish Sage shared my work ethic. She’s been the full-time dishwasher at the restaurant for years, ever since she dropped out of high school. I want to bump her up to being a waitress, but I don’t think I can trust her to do a good enough job. She has her head in the clouds. When she wants something, when she’s motivated, she’s the hardest worker there ever was, but when she’s unmotivated, forget about it.” Victoria rubbed the back of her neck. “Now what?”

“We wait for the guys to return, and then I’m gonna take you back to my place.”

Victoria grimaced. “I feel like we failed.”

“We haven’t, and we didn’t,” I said firmly, retaking her into my arms.

She stared up at me, her hands on my shoulders. “Maybe I could go back and—”

My grip on her tightened protectively. “And what, Victoria?”

“I don’t know!” she exploded. “I feel like we’re not doing enough.”

“Believe me. We’re doing everything we can.” I leveled her a frank stare. “Please promise me, Victoria, that you won’t go back to the bar alone.”

Her lips twisted into a beautiful pout.

I just wanted to kiss her senseless, but I refrained somehow. “If something should happen to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Her pout deepened, and she wiggled in my arms. “You don’t even really know me.”

“Maybe not as well as I would like to, but that doesn’t mean I want you to go missing too.”

She wormed her way free. “I’m not a child,” she hissed.

“I’m not treating you like one. For goodness sake, Victoria, they have guns!”

She paled at that. “I know.”

“And we don’t know for certain that they’re involved. We shouldn’t make a move until we know for certain. The last thing I want is for my guys to have their lives taken from them for no good reason.”

She nodded and blinked rapidly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just anxious.”

“Completely understandable.”

“How soon until they’ll get back?”

“Maybe ten minutes.”

Victoria gave me a tiny smile. “I’ll get ready to go.” She left to gather her things, not that she had much.

She passed by Hank as he strolled in. I held a finger to my lips and waited for her to be far enough away for him to talk.

He cleared his throat. “Only one place it could be. A small town. Called Douglastown. Nothing else it could be.”

“You’ve been there before?”

Hank shook his head. “Nope, but I did a little digging. It’s near a tourist trap.”

“So there’s a lot of hotels and motels, then.” I rubbed my chin.

He nodded. “I would think so. Shady places, most like. All tourist traps are like that. Wanna make you stop and then rob ya.”

“Not all are like that.”

“When they’re in the middle of nowhere they are.”

I wasn’t gonna argue with him. “Might you fancy a look around?”

Hank grinned. “I’ve been itching for a trip the past few weeks. Would love to. Thought you would never ask.”

“Call me immediately if you see signs of either of them.”

“Will do.” Hank saluted with his fingers and made off.

Daryl and Charlie arrived just as Hank was pulling out. I greeted them, told them to have a few beers—although Daryl had sure acted like he had some there, his breath didn’t stink any. He had only pretended to drink there, and I appreciated that he managed to keep his mind clear without the haze of alcohol to influence it.

Victoria silently came over to me, and we left. Once we arrived, I thought she would like to go right to sleep, but she took me by the hand and lead me to the bedroom. I wasn’t going to complain any, and soon, I wasn’t sure which of us was screaming louder. The way she cried out my name when she came did something to me. There was a connection between us. The only question was whether or not it would last.

Because, the thing was, I was starting to think maybe I did want it to last. It was something I hadn’t even considered with any other woman.

And it terrified me almost as much as I was terrified for Trenton and Sage.

Chapter 11

Victoria

I was a bundle of nerves. Working out the kinks with the restaurant made me feel like things were almost back to normal. I even went ahead and did some scheduling for items for next week just for a little peace of mind. Because I honestly felt like I was going out of my mind. All I wanted was my daughter back, safe and sound, without any injuries or drug addictions or anything else. Was that too much to ask?

Seeing the extent to which Grant’s guys were willing to go, the lengths they would take to try to find their boy and my daughter warmed me up to them. I never thought I would be here, in their headquarters. I always rolled my eyes whenever Trenton had talked about Devil’s Horns. Now I understood why people joined motorcycle clubs. It really was like a second family. And in between my phone calls, a few came up to ask me if I needed anything—water, beer, food—if they could get me a chair—I was pacing, too anxious to sit down—and if I was all right. It made me feel welcome, like they thought I belonged. A few girlfriends or wives were over, so I wasn’t the only female around, and everything just helped to settle me down a little.

After learning about the guards having guns, any sense of ease that I might’ve had was shattered. I had given those same guards lip. I had talked back to them. I hadn’t been threatened, but I had come close. If Grant hadn’t showed up, what might have happened? I definitely dialed it back a bit when he came over.

I might’ve gotten myself killed.

I was trembling the whole ride back to Grant’s place, and I needed him. Bringing him to the bedroom had been an impulse. My intention had only been for us to sleep together—as in sleep together, actually sleep—but then I wanted a good night kiss, and one turned to three, turned into a make-out session, turned into something more.

Was it just sex? I wasn’t so sure anymore. It wasn’t, that I knew. It was more than that. It set my soul on fire, made my body all tingly. It was amazing, mind blowing.

It made me feel safe.

Which I desperately needed. I so needed to feel safe.

But it also made me feel guilty. What if Sage was in danger? What if she was hurt? What if she was somewhere, right this moment, crying and calling out for me?

And here I was, having sex.

In a way, the sex felt life affirming. After the danger I had unknowingly walked into—the armed guards—I wanted to do something that put my stamp on my life, that proved I was the one in charge.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms, and I woke up a few times during the night to find his arm still wrapped around me. And for those brief moments, when I first stirred and felt his embrace, I felt happy. Not just safe. Happy.

The guilt kicked back in again. I liked this man. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to see who exactly he was outside of the crazy frantic bustle to find our people. What did he want out of life? What were his hopes and dreams? Would he ever settle down?

Somehow, for me, he had already come to be more than just a one-night stand. I had only fancied myself in love once. The guy had seemed like a keeper at first, but then, the closer we became, the more he relaxed around me until he finally let his true colors show, and, man, were they ugly colors.

Love. What was I thinking? I was moving way too fast! I didn’t love Grant, but the thing was, I could see myself falling for him if I wasn’t careful.

Should I be careful, though? If Sage’s disappearance showed anything, it was that life was short, and you should do what you could to be happy for as long as possible.

Life was short.

My cell buzzed, and I stirred, reaching for it. Grant was still asleep, so I slipped out of the covers and left the room, not wanting to disturb him.

It was early, very early. I blinked a few times to be able to see who was calling. Georgia Henderson.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Victoria? You still looking for your girl?”

“Yes, I am.” I gripped the cell phone until it dug into my palms. “Have you seen her?”

“No, I haven’t, but there is a black car here.”

“Okay…” I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

“I’ve seen it before a few times. Always late at night. I don’t sleep a lot. I have insomnia, and sometimes I like to look out my window at the stars. Well, like I said, I’ve seen that car before, and I know I’ve seen Trenton go on down and talk to whoever is in the car. I’ve never seen the people in the car, and they just pulled up now. Not sure what exactly they’re doing. Should I call the police?”

“Can you see the license plate?”

“The car is backed in. I can’t see the plate.”

“Can you take a picture of the car? What year and make and model is it?”

“Oh dear. Hold on.” There was fumbling. “Okay. I took a few pictures. Without the flash. I don’t want them to see me. And I can’t tell the year and everything just by looking at a car. Sorry. It is black, though.”

“Thanks.” I grimaced. Not a whole lot to go by.

“Should I call the—oh, wait. They’re leaving. Strange. They didn’t get out of the car or anything. Just parked, took a look, and now they’re gone.”

“Okay.” My mind raced. What could I do? What should I do with this information? “Do you feel safe?”

“Oh, dear, no one is gonna bother little old me. If you don’t want me to call the police, I won’t. It won’t bother me none. I try to keep out of messes.”

As long as she knew what the mess was. She was a gossip, that was for sure.

“I’m gonna stop by,” I said, making up my mind on the spot. If they came back, I could tail them. At least it would give me something to do. I felt like I was going to go stir crazy if I had to have an unproductive day. As a restaurant owner, I never had a moment to myself, and even when it was off hours, there was still plenty to do. This sitting around, hoping, and waiting thing was wearing on me.

“Are you—”

I hung up. Grant was still sleeping, and I glanced at the time on my cell. It was even earlier than I thought it was. Four in the morning. Ugh.

After leaving a note for Grant, I got in my car and hightailed it over to Trenton’s apartment.

I called Georgia the moment I parked to make sure the car in question hadn’t returned.

“No. I honestly thought the car wouldn’t show up since Trenton’s gone away, or else I would’ve mentioned it to you earlier,” she said.

“No worries,” I assured her.

“I’m gonna call you right back if I see them.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up first this time.

It only took me five minutes before I was bored already. Guess I wasn’t meant for a stakeout. Having nothing else better to do, I went to Trenton’s apartment. Really, it was silly to, since I was pretty sure Grant had locked it, and I didn’t know how to pick a lock.

But the door was ajar.

My mouth dry, my chest tight, I pushed open the door.

The place was wrecked. Ransacked, clothes all over the place, table and chairs upturned.

The bathroom was even worse. No one thing remained in the cabinet under the sink. The cabinet behind the mirror had also been emptied, the contents of both scattered all over the floor. A shampoo bottle had broken, and the soap drenched the floor.

Someone had come here. Looking for the drugs? Or looking for money?

Freaked out, I started to call Grant as I left the apartment, but then Georgia was calling.

“They’re out front again,” she hissed.

I dashed back to my car, a hand up to help cover my face so they couldn’t see me. Before I could climb in, though, they were already driving away. They hadn’t parked this time—just a drive by. I did manage to get a look at the passenger, and I could’ve sworn he was one of the guards who gave me lip at the bar.

I tried to tail them, but as soon as they slowly drove through the parking lot, they took off at a blazing speed. Traffic laws be darned, I tore after them, but the town was starting to wake up, and I got caught behind traffic, and soon their taillights disappeared from view. I tried to find them again, but I had lost them.

Feeling defeated, I started back toward Grant’s loft. I was still a few miles away when my phone dinged from a text. Probably about the restaurant.

I pulled over just in case, and thank harass that I did.

I’m safe, Mom, but I wanna come home.

Tears filled my eyes, blurring the words. I cried and cried and cried, the hardest I ever cried in my life. My girl was alive. She was safe.

But why couldn’t she just come home if she wanted to?

I wiped away my tears and did my best to compose myself, reading and rereading the text a hundred times.

Only once I was sure that I had myself together did I call her. Maybe she couldn’t talk. Maybe she wouldn’t answer. Maybe she had texted instead of calling me for a reason.

But she picked up.

“Mom?”

Hearing her call me that almost made me burst into tears again. “Sage. Honey. Are you all right? Where are you?” My voice shook, but I sounded comforting, at least I thought and hoped I did.

She burst into tears.

Oh no. It took everything in me not to cry, too. Was she hurt? Had Trenton hit her? Had bad guys come after them? I had so many questions, but I bottled them all up inside. The last thing I wanted to do was to make her stressed out. I wanted her to feel safe while talking to me. I wanted her to take her time telling me what happened. I wasn’t going to demand answers.

So I made comforting noises and whispered to her that it was all right, all while hoping I was helping her feel better and praying I wasn’t lying to her.

“You’re all right,” I repeated for the twentieth time. “You’re all right.”

“Mom…” She sniffled.

“Take your time,” I said. “Take a deep breath.”

She listened.

“Another one,” I coached.

She did.

“Do you feel any better?”

Fresh tears all over again.

Dang it. Me and my big mouth.

It took me even longer to get her to calm down again, but that didn’t matter. I was just thrilled to hear her, even if she was crying. Sage was alive! She might not be happy, but she was all right!

When she seemed to be calming down once more, I ventured asking, “Where are you?”

“Douglastown,” she said, still sniffling but not outright crying anymore. “Moonshine Motel. Mom, you can’t tell anyone where I am, though. It’s not safe. I…I have to go.”

And she hung up.

I immediately dialed her back, but she didn’t answer. I sent her text after text, but she didn’t reply.

Douglastown, huh? Moonshine Motel.

I sent Grant a few texts. I’m all right. Then, Sage texted me. She’s all right…for now. And then, She’s at Moonshine Motel in Douglastown. Going now.

I was near the highway. There wasn’t a point in going back to his place to get him. He could meet me there. I couldn’t wait. I had to get to Sage.

Chapter 12

Grant

When I woke to find my arms empty, I shot right up out of bed. Where was Victoria? My bed felt so cold without her.

I checked the bathroom, calling out for her, feeling like a fool. I wasn’t the kind of guy to be whipped, but with Trenton and Sage being gone, maybe hurt or even killed, I wasn’t about to take any chances.

I was just about to enter the kitchen when my phone rang.

Hank.

“What did you find?” Heck, did he work fast. Had to love that about him.

“I went around to just about every hotel and motel there was. Even scoped out a few shacks in case they were laying up in one of ’em.”

“And?” I demanded. Was he only calling to say it had been a dead end?

“The girl was seen at a motel called Moonshine Motel.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief. “What about Trenton?”

“No one mentioned him.”

“Stick around but lay low,” I ordered. “Don’t put your neck out on the line. We’ll be up quick as we can.”

“Will do.”

I hung up and continued into the kitchen. There was a note from Victoria. She’d gone over to Trenton’s place.

I tried calling her, but my phone was acting up, and the call wouldn’t go through. Texts wouldn’t either. Great. My cell did this every so often, and I always meant to get it looked at but never made time for it.

I hightailed it over to Trenton’s. I’d just tell her in person, only Victoria’s car wasn’t out front. Didn’t matter. I still ran up to Trenton’s apartment anyway. The sight of the place being ransacked made my blood run like ice through my veins. Had Victoria been here when the idiots who messed with the place still been here? Had they taken her? Was she all right?

As if by magic, a text came through form Victoria. I’m all right.

Thank goodness.

I kneeled down in all of the garbage on the floor. She was all right. All the worry and dread in my stomach just let go. I didn’t know how Sage and Trenton were doing, but at least Victoria was all right because if she hadn’t been, heads would roll.

She had found a way beneath my defenses. She wasn’t just a one-night stand. She wasn’t just a woman I wanted to harass a couple of times before sending her away. Victoria wasn’t meant for that. She was meant for something more. I wanted to be a part of her life—a major part.

I tried calling her, but my phone began acting up again. That was all right. I’d get ahold of her.

The rest of the apartment looked the same—like someone had unleashed a tornado inside of it. I had no idea if anything had been taken, but if someone had been looking for the drugs, they wouldn’t have found it. Unless Trenton had stashes in other hiding places. Which wasn’t exactly smart. Honestly, the amount I had found hadn’t been as big as it could’ve been. A little more than for recreational use, but not enough to go out and sell. Just what was Trenton’s endgame?

The puzzle was missing way too many pieces. I had a feeling Trenton was just a pawn in someone else’s game, and if I could find the kingpin, I would have the complete picture.

Fleetingly, I thought about calling the police and telling them they might want to scoop out the bar, but if I were wrong and the bar was mixed up in something else altogether, it might just complicate things further, and if they were involved, I didn’t want to make them go underground. What if Trenton had ditched Sage, and that was why he hadn’t been seen at the motel? But why wouldn’t Sage have come home? Then again, if he stranded her without money or a cell, she’d have no way to get back home outside of hitchhiking. Yet she was at a motel. If she were staying there, that meant money, right?

Man, I was giving myself a headache.

I walked over to the window and glanced out. A black car turned into the parking lot. I didn’t think much about it, honestly, not until I walked out of Trenton’s apartment and spied a woman staring at the car outside a window.

She turned toward me, eyes wide, her gaze shifting from me to the room I just left. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“A friend of Trenton’s.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I could see her mind churning.

“And a friend of Sage’s mom.”

Her gaze relaxed ever so slightly. “What’s the girl’s mom’s name?”

I had to suppress a laugh that she was quizzing me. “Victoria.” Just saying her name made me want to smile.

She snorted and turned back to the window, nodding at the car. “Seen it a few times, like I told Victoria.”

“Connected to Trenton?”

“Seems to me. They give me the creeps. Always coming at night.”

“It’s not night now.”

“No. Makes me even more nervous.”

“You just go back to bed. I’ll take it from here.”

The woman eyed me. “Might not wanna get involved,” she warned me.

“I’m already involved.”

She tilted her head and then nodded. “I see that. I didn’t know the girl that well, but her mom cares enough about her for me to start. I don’t want nothing to happen to either of them.”

“Neither do I.”

“I see that, too, but sometimes biting off more than you can chew can lead to bullet holes.”

I laughed. The car made one loop around so far, driving real slow. What were they looking for? Had they been the ones behind the ransacking? Were they hoping Trenton would show up back here?

“You should sew that quote. Knit it or whatever the term is.”

“I would, but the people who need to read it won’t take it to heart. Might not even be able to read.”

I grimaced. “Just don’t stick your neck too far out.”

“You too,” she called as I raced down the steps.

I darted out of the door just as the black car made another loop around. A Mercedes Benz. Not a bad-looking car, actually. Kind of sleek. I tried to make my nonchalant way back to my car, but the Benz stopped right in front of me, blocking me.

“Excuse me,” I said pleasantly, trying to avoid eye contact and yet scope them out at the same time.

“Who are you?” the passenger asked.

Since they were talking to me, I saw no reason not to look their way. They had already spotted me already. The driver was staring straight ahead, one hand on the wheel. Even though he didn’t seem to be paying me attention, I had the feeling he didn’t miss much. He had a red moustache, but the hair on top of his head was brown.

The passenger had a hard look to him, added by the scar down the side of his face. Maybe from a knife fight. He glared at me. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m nobody,” I said easily.

“You’d better start talking,” the passenger demanded.

“You’re Grant Reardon, aren’t you?” the driver said, still not looking my way.

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“We have some questions for you. About your boy Trenton.”

I shook my head. “Can’t talk right now, fellas. I’m on my way—”

“You’re gonna make time.” The passenger got out.

I wasn’t the least bit intimidated. The guy might have that scar, but I had twenty pounds on him. I could take him.

But then he flashed me something, and I got into the backseat of his car without another word.

Fortunately, our talk didn’t last too long, and the moment I climbed out of their car, they sped away.

I didn’t bother to watch them leave or see where they were heading. Instead, I rushed back to my loft. Victoria wasn’t there. Dang. I really hoped she was. Where was she? I’m all right, her last text had said.

My cell still wasn’t cooperating. Dang it. Too bad on my part that I hadn’t memorized her number. I couldn’t call her from one of the guys’ cells.

Maybe something was hope with her restaurant. I kind of hoped that was the case and that it wasn’t. She was dealing with enough trash that she didn’t need to have more piled on her.

I left her a note that explained what I had learned and asked her to call me as soon as she could. Even when my phone was acting up like it was, it tended to still receive calls, at least.

Riding like the devil was at my back, I motored it toward my bar and the Devil’s Horns’ headquarters.

But then I got a phone call, one that changed my life, and not for the better.

Chapter 13

Victoria

My stomach was churning like mad, so badly I almost thought I would have to pull over to be sick. While I was thrilled that I would be seeing Sage soon, the way our last conversation ended left me on edge.

At a red light, I grabbed my phone. A few of my texts hadn’t gone through. Great. Before I could try to resend them, the car behind me honked, and I slammed down on the gas to jolt forward. I merged onto the highway and managed to call Sage as I wove between traffic, driving a good fifteen to twenty above the speed limit.

She didn’t answer.

Was Trenton holding her somewhere against her will? I wanna come home, she had texted, which suggested she couldn’t come home, right? Or else she would’ve just come home.

I want you to come home, too.

Or maybe Trenton wasn’t the bad guy in all of this. Maybe someone was holding them both against their wills. I appreciated Grant telling me Trenton’s backstory. Even though I hadn’t liked him from the start, I was a firm believer that everyone deserved a second chance.

Even Sage’s birth mom?

Okay…maybe I wasn’t as firm of a believer as I liked to think I was, but if Trenton really did turn his life around, if he really did love Sage, if he was trying to help her out of whatever situation they were in, I would change my mind on him so fast I would get whiplash.

But the drugs in his apartment…

Maybe they had been planted there. Maybe someone from Trenton’s past didn’t like that he was clean. Maybe they hunted him down…but for what?

Yeah right, Victoria. You know that’s not the case.

Deep down, I had a hunch this was all Trenton’s fault, but was that just my hope for both Sage and Grant? He had such hopes in the boy, and I hated to think they were misplaced, but that was exactly what I was thinking. Trenton had struck me as bad news right from the start. I prided myself on being a good judge of character.

One time, shortly after I acquired the restaurant, I had been on-site to work out an issue between the cook and the meat packager when I spied two men enter the place. They were rough and tough looking, and they kept looking around. They asked for a table in the corner, and my hostess granted it to them.

Now, honestly, I had no reason to take an interest in them, but I did, and I broke off my conversation to see to them personally. I asked if they needed something to drink. They brushed me off. No big deal. I always tried to see to every table when I was at the restaurant, to try to make sure everyone was having a good time, and I had learned when exactly was a good time to approach a table so they weren’t in the middle of eating and could answer me.

So I smiled and nodded and told them to feel free to flag me down if they needed anything. And I went rounds with the other tables but kept an eye on them.

And it was a good thing I did because I witnessed a drug deal. No lie.

I discretely told their waiter to purposely delay them—their food, their drinks, their bill—and called the police on them. I guess you could call me an informant, too. No way was I going to allow drug deals to happen at my restaurant.

The very next day, two more guys showed up, and they were just as rough and tough looking as the previous two guys, but for some reason, these ones didn’t send off any signals to me, and they soon became regulars. I wasn’t ageist, racist, sexist or anything like that. I would serve anyone, except for those who might pose a threat to my other customers, and, yes, that included drugs.

My gut warned me about Trenton right from the start, but Sage hadn’t listened, and I feared if I went too hard at her against him, she would cling to him all the more. Maybe I should’ve done more, said more, did something, anything to keep her away from him.

Had I given her too long of a leash that it turned into a noose? When was it up to the child to step up and take responsibility for their actions? Yes, Sage was nineteen; she technically wasn’t considered a child, but in my mind, she still needed to be protected. The world had taken so much from her and hadn’t given her nearly enough back. She was still trying to find her place in this world, and I wanted to give her a real shot at working at the restaurant, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.

I was babying her. I was holding her back. In some areas—like dating—I was giving her too much leeway for fear she would just rebel and do what she wanted anyway, and in others—like work—I was not letting her stand on her own two feet for fear she wouldn’t do right by me, by my business, and by herself, too.

Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a mom, but I had never been one before, and I knew when I took her in that it wouldn’t be easy. I was rolling with the punches as they came, but it was time to take off the kid gloves and to go for it.

Go for broke.

I would not rest until Sage was safely home.

Considering how fast I was going, it only took me about an hour to reach Douglastown, and another ten minutes to find the motel.

So far, so good.

I parked in the back of the parking lot. The motel was a dump. It looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the forties. It badly needed repairs and paint and to be fumigated. I almost stepped on a cockroach when I stepped out of my car. The shock of seeing the huge, swift bug had me sitting back down in my seat. Maybe I should find out what apartment she was in. I didn’t want to be seen snooping around and be caught and captured myself. This was a rescue mission. I couldn’t afford mistakes.

But I also wanted to find Sage as soon as possible.

I tried calling her again. No answer. I tried calling Grant. No answer there either.

So I texted Sage. I’m here. At the motel. What room are you in?

I held my breath and waited. What if she had been blindfolded and didn’t know? But she did know the city and the motel name. Please let her know the room number, too.

A minute passed. Two. Five. Forget this. I didn’t come all the way here to wait. I’d find the receptionist, ask if Sage or Trenton had come here, and—

My phone vibrated.

Room 268.

I bolted out of my car. The rooms nearby were in the 90s, so I found stairs and climbed them two at a time and up another flight to reach the 200s.

My fingers curled around the knob, and I braced for it to not turn, but it did. It opened, and Sage was there, a little dirty and thinner than I last saw her, but alive and hugging me, and it felt so amazing.

“Mom,” she whispered in my ear.

I tensed. Why was she whispering?

She trembling in my arms and crying, and I couldn’t get another word out of her. I tried to pull her out of the room, so we could make it to my car and get the heck out of here, and she was slowly walking with me, dragging her feet—was she hurt? Limping? I couldn’t tell—but we were half out the door when Trenton came.

His face, oh goodness, his face. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Terrifying and nasty and vindictive and evil. All twisted up. The handsome guy who had swept Sage off her feet was gone.

And even worse, he had a gun.

He waved it aloft, and Sage, still crying, began to whimper, released me, and slumped her way back inside the room.

I rushed toward Trenton, but he easily threw me back so hard that I stumbled and fell onto my rear. He kicked the door shut behind him and pointed the gun at me. What the heck was going on? Had he lost his mind?

I jumped to my feet. “Let us go, Trenton,” I demanded.

He laughed and waved the gun around. “I don’t think you understand how this works.” Trenton leveled the gun at my forehead. “As long as I hold this, you do what I say.”

“I don’t take orders from a wannabe gangster,” I spat. Maybe it was stupid to argue with him, to call him names, but I was livid. He had a gun. He had threatened my daughter. He was threatening me. I would not cower. I had come here to fight for my daughter, and fight I would.

He brought his arm down, trying to hit me with the gun, but I ducked and jerked to the side. I tried to sweep my leg out so he would fall, but he grabbed me.

I kicked and screamed and punched and slapped, but it didn’t matter. He easily overpowered me, throwing me onto a chair and punching me in the temple so hard my vision darkened. Before I could react, he was tying me to the chair. I fought him as best I could, but it made no difference, and soon I was bound hand and foot.

The entire time, Sage was crying, her words hardly comprehensibly. “Trenton, Trenton, please. Stop this. Don’t! Don’t hurt her!”

He ignored her, tying another knot. I’d never get free.

“Just let us go. Please. Trenton…”

My heart broke, listening to her panic. “I’m fine,” I told her.

Trenton backhanded me. “Shut up.”

I spat blood at him. “You shut up.”

The next slap was so hard my vision spotted again. “You listen here.” He held up the gun. “I’m the one in charge. You do what I say, and right now, I say that you should shut up.” He turned toward Sage. “And that includes you.”

“But, Trenton—”

“But nothing,” he snapped.

“Why are you doing this?” I mumbled. My cheek hurt. My mouth was filling with blood, and my eye was swelling. He had no problem hitting a lady, and he sure did hit hard.

“You think I’m gonna tell you everything?” He snorted, sounding like a pig. “I’m gonna solve all my problems.” Trenton kneeled down in front of me. “Actually, you’re gonna solve all my problems.”

I shifted to try to get away from him, and my cell dug into my thigh through my pocket. Grant. Did he get my texts? Was he on his way? Maybe I should try to get Trenton to keep on talking and force him to stay here until Grant arrived.

Then again, he was waving that gun around.

“How can I solve your problems?” I asked. My heart was pounding so loudly my chest ached almost as much as my face did.

“I’ve seen you.” He sneered. “You’re nothing but a whore. Like mother, like daughter.”

My jaw dropped. “Don’t you dare—”

“Your daughter goes missing, and what do you do? Idiot Grant multiple times.”

My cheeks grew bright red, and I couldn’t look at Sage. What must she think of me?

“You thought so lowly of your own daughter for being with me, for being with a loser in a motorcycle club, and what do you do? You harass the leader.” Trenton stood, threw back his head, and roared with laughter. “Not so innocent, are you? Why are you still such a stuck-up jerk? Wasn’t Grant good enough for you?” He leaned in real close, and I tried to squirm away from him, but the ties were too tight. “He doesn’t care about you, you know. He goes through women like he goes through beers. One after the other. Pounds them down and calls for another round. Likes variety, he does.”

“Leave her alone!” Sage’s voice was so shrill I could hardly recognize it.

I looked at her and tried to discretely shake my head to warn her, but she wasn’t paying me any attention.

“I’ve heard you two fight.” Trenton laughed some more and walked over to Sage, touching her shoulder and running his hand down her arm. She jerked away from him, but he seized onto her wrist. “You told her a couple of times she needed to get laid. Doesn’t it bother you that she waited until you went missing to do it? She gave you trash for being with me, and now look at her.”

“She’s tied to a chair because of you!”

“After having harassed the leader of Devil’s Horns!”

“You’re…” Sage took a shaky breath and burst into tears all over again.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Yes, I messed Grant, and he’s gonna come and—”

“Oh. Oh, ho, ho.” Trenton released Sage and walked back over to me. “Grant’s gonna save the day, all right, but it’s not gonna be to save you.” He grabbed my phone out of my pocket. “Looks like someone didn’t realize the drive here is one huge dead zone. Not all of your texts went through. Grant doesn’t know you’re here.”

My blood ran cold.

Trenton brought his face close toward mine. “I—”

I leaned forward and bit him.

He dropped my phone, brought up his hand, and lowered the gun. It hit the side of my head, and my world plunged into darkness.

Chapter 14

Grant

My cell displayed Trenton’s name. After all this time, the prick was calling me. Like it was just a regular day. Like he hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth.

I careened over to the side of the road to park and answer. I was shaking way too badly to attempt riding and talking, not that I ever talked while riding my bike anyhow. Just wasn’t plain smart.

“Hey, Grant, how are you?”

“What the heck, man? What trash are you pulling?” I was pissed. So pissed. Life wasn’t a game, and he had better get his head screwed on right or else.

“I’ll tell you what I’m pulling,” he hissed, sounding a lot colder and meaner than I had ever heard him before. “I got her.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. “Sage?” I asked even though I knew he wasn’t talking about his girlfriend—or ex-girlfriend if he was pulling this crazy trash on her, too.

“No. Yes. Her, too.”

Victoria.

I couldn’t say her name. I couldn’t say anything. I was so livid I couldn’t even see straight.

“That’s right. I got your little idiot buddy,” Trenton said.

That was when I found my tongue. “Listen, you little trash—”

“Oh.” He laughed. “That hit a nerve, huh? Yeah, well, I’ve been keeping an eye on things. Not just you. You see, I need money, and now I know how I’m gonna get it. You.”

“I’m not paying you one cent—”

“Either you pay me one million dollars, or else I’ll kill Victoria.”

No. No way. This wasn’t Trenton. This wasn’t him.

“What happened to you? What trash did you get messed up in?” I demanded.

He didn’t respond.

“Put Victoria on,” I commanded.

“No.”

“Put her on!”

“You got it bad for her, don’t you? I swear, Grant, I’ll do it. I’ll shoot her right between the eyes.”

“That’s cold, boy.”

“Don’t call me boy,” he snapped.

“Then grow up and be a man already. You’re better than this trash. I know you are.”

“That’s what you wanted to believe. That’s what you wanted to think.” Trenton laughed again, but it was a sad one, pathetic sounding. “I need the money. You need her. Even exchange, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t believe it. How could one of my own MC members threaten me? Threaten my woman? “You want the money?” I asked.

“Dang straight I do.”

“Then you have to tell me what’s going on.”

He didn’t respond.

“Trenton.”

“When you bring the money. Or are you gonna have one of your lackeys drop it off for you?” he asked mockingly.

“You want the money, let me talk to her.”

“Nope. Oh, and, Grant? If you try to dare pull that informant trash on me, I will light her up and go after the entire club. You want all that blood on your hands?” His voice was shaking. He had the right words, but his delivery was all wrong. Trenton was scared trashless. He desperately needed the money. To make himself disappear? Or to pay someone off so he wouldn’t be the one to disappear six feet under?

“Trenton, we can work this out like adults. We can be reasonable. You need money. That’s clear. How much? To whom?”

“Grant, I’m not—”

“There doesn’t have to be any deaths. Not Victoria’s. Not Sage’s.” I paused, and Trenton did inhale slightly. He did care for the girl. Good. Hopefully that meant she was all right despite this trash. “Not mine,” I added, “and not yours.”

“I’m not dying,” Trenton said desperately.

“I don’t want you to.” The truth. For now. If he did anything to hurt Victoria or Sage, for that matter, then all bets were off. “Who are you in deep with?”

“Grant. Stop playing games with me. I’m not a kid.”

“Dang straight you are. You’re acting like a petulant—”

“You think insulting me is gonna get me to open up to you? You think it’s gonna keep me from blowing your idiot buddy’s brains out? Keep it up, man. I swear I’ll do her in.”

“A real man wouldn’t threaten a woman. A real man wouldn’t kidnap anyone. A real man would ask for help when he got in too deep.”

He didn’t say anything for a little while. I strained to hear anything in the background, but I heard nothing. He must not be with the women right now because I knew Victoria would try to shout and let me know she was all right or what was going on if she could.

I’m all right. Her last text to me.

I’d do anything to make sure you’re all right.

“You gonna man up and ask for help?” I asked.

“I’m manning up by finding a way to get funds. Now are you gonna—”

“Kidnapping and extortion. That’s how you’re gonna man up? Really, dude?” I shook my head. “Having a nasty upbringing does not mean you should—”

“You have no right to criticize me—”

“Are you for real?” I couldn’t believe it. The kid had gone off the rails and jumped off at Loonyville.

“You have two days,” Trenton said. “Two days to get me the money. One million.”

“That’s a lot of cash. You can’t expect me to just go up to the bank and—”

“I expect you to do whatever it takes,” he said coolly. “You always act like you’re big and bad and tough, but what are you? What have you ever really done? Sure, you’re the leader of a motorcycle club. So what. Big deal. You’re nothing but a loser.”

What the heck? “I’m the loser?” I asked quietly. Keeping my dang cool was nearly impossible, but I couldn’t risk him going off. “Listen, I get you’re in deep. You need money, and you need it now. Let me talk to whoever you owe money to. Maybe I can get them—”

“Fancy yourself a white knight?” he asked.

I could hear the sneer in his voice, his tone shocking me—not because of the harshness in it but because of the fear. He was terrified. Fear had led him to this. Just what had he gotten himself involved him that he was so afraid, afraid enough to kidnap and blackmail?

“I tried to help you,” I started.

“You’re not my father.”

“No. I’m not.”

For a measure, we were both quiet.

Then he asked, “Will you have the money?”

“I’ll bring it myself,” I said, “within twenty-four hours.”

“Good. I’ll text you later with info about where to drop it off”

“But first I want to talk to Victoria.”

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you no?”

“You want my money? You let me talk to her. Otherwise, how the heck do I even know you really have her?”

“No dice.”

“Then no money. Take it or leave it, Trenton. You have her? Let her talk.”

“She’s sleeping,” he muttered.

“So wake her. Wait. Sleeping or unconscious? Did you hurt her? I swear to heaven, if you touched her—”

“Grant.” He didn’t sound tough, not at all. He sounded like the young teen who knew he had done wrong and needed forgiveness, from me and from himself.

“Just let me talk to her.”

“Hold on.” The sound of rummaging went on, like he was covering up the phone. A few mumbled words, maybe some crying, and then…

“Grant.”

A shot went straight through me. Victoria. She sounded out of it. Didn’t seem too frightened, though, but maybe that was just because, like I said, she was out of it.

“There,” Trenton said. A door slammed in the background. “You happy now?”

No, and I wouldn’t be until Victoria and Sage were out of his clutches and away from harm, but I didn’t want to stir the pot, so I just said, “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” he had the balls to say, and he hung up.

Thank you? Thank you? You said thank you when someone held the door for you so it wouldn’t slam into your face. You said thank you to a waiter or waitress. You said thank you if someone said bless you if you sneezed.

You didn’t say thank you after someone agreed to pay you one million dollars because you snatched their girlfriend.

Where did I go wrong with him? I knew deep down he was responsible for his own actions, but heck. I tried to help him, to get him straight. I even bought him a bike—albeit one he had to fix up, which I taught him how to do. I treated him like he was one of us, like a part of the family, and this was how the guy repaid me?

There was no doubt about it. Trenton had turned his back on us. If he had gotten himself into trouble and asked me for help, I would’ve bent over backward for him. I would’ve given him the shirt off my back. I would’ve done everything in my power to set him back down the straight and narrow road. Because I considered him family.

But to pull this trash, to choose himself and allow his fear to cause him to threaten me and to potentially harm innocents? He wasn’t family. He was on his own.

“Hold on, Victoria,” I said as I turned my bike back on. “I’m coming for you.”

Chapter 15

Victoria

My head ached, but I didn’t bother to open my eyes. Sage’s crying had stopped a little while ago. I hoped she was sleeping. Poor girl. She didn’t look like she had any bruises on her, but I also hadn’t gotten a good look at her before Trenton showed up.

Trenton.

The door opened, and I blinked. Trenton covered a cell in his hands, and his eyes were wild and determined. Fearful, too. “You say Grant’s name and that it. You got it?”

“Huh?” I hadn’t been conscious for long, and I didn’t understand why he was so urgent.

“Say Grant’s name. Nothing else.”

I nodded. My throat was dry.

He held out the cell.

“Grant,” I said dutifully. It came out more like a croak than anything, and Trenton already had his back to me and closed the door behind him.

I closed my eyes, and this time, the darkness was that of sleep instead of unconsciousness.

***

A cool washcloth to my face woke me up. I jerked back in surprise and then again when I realized the one tending to me was Trenton and not Sage.

I glanced around wildly.

“She’s sleeping,” he said quietly.

He seemed calm, almost too calm, and reserved.

Was he bipolar? How could he be so composed right now? I sure felt like a mess myself. But the cool washcloth did feel nice against me, so I kept my questions to myself, not wanting to risk setting him off again.

He pulled the washcloth away. “The swelling’s gone down. You…I…” Trenton sat on the edge of the bed, head down.

“Thank you.”

He snorted. “Thank you,” he repeated glumly. “I don’t even know what the heck I’m doing.”

I gaped at him. Did he really think I was going to be his shrink? Or that I would forgive him for the trash he put me through?

“Thirsty,” I managed, my dry throat killing me.

He got up, grabbed a cup, filled it from the tap, and brought it over to me. Careful not to spill any, he gave me some to drink.

I wasn’t about to thank him again, so I just nodded.

“I’m glad you came here,” he said after a few moments.

I couldn’t help myself. It might earn me a punch or a slap, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Really? You mean to tell me if I hadn’t showed up here, you would’ve gone back to town and kidnapped me anyhow?”

His cheeks turned bright red. Idiot. That had been his plan.

“What did I ever do to you?” My jaw lowered. He had me say Grant’s name. He’d been talking to Grant. A ransom call? Was this all about money?

“Look, the things I said, I shouldn’t’ve. I was outta line. I’m just under a lot of stress right now, and I lost my cool.”

He sounded desperate, but I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine, or if he were terrified Grant would kick his rear for him touching me. Did it matter if he were genuine? The kid had not only crossed the line; he had run a full mile past it. There was no coming back from all the stunts he’d pulled, even if he did feel remorse now.

His cell buzzed, and he put the cup on the nightstand and walked out.

Sage stirred. She had fallen asleep on the floor to my right, and she sat up, blinking and stretching. “He’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Mom! I’m so sorry. I thought…I thought…I was so afraid. I just…” She sniffed and looked ready to break down again.

“Shh,” I said consolingly. “Don’t cry. I’m here. Just try to untie me.”

Sage shook her head. “I won’t be able to. I already tried.”

I stared at the knots. It did look like she’s tried, but they weren’t ordinary knots. “What’s going on?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s bad,” she whispered. “So bad.”

“Has he hurt you?”

“Not physically.” She patted my face. “I can’t believe he hit you. He’s just…No. I won’t make excuses for him.”

“You thought you loved him, and he led you on. Love has made people stupid for years.”

“That’s the thing.” She bit her lower lip and hugged herself, sitting on the bed where Trenton just had a few moments ago. Her gaze focused on the damp washcloth. “I think he does love me, in his twisted way.”

“After everything he’s done?”

“He did it for me,” she said softly. “He’s lived a messed up life, and it’s made him a mess, and I’ve been trying to help him, and he’s been better, but he doesn’t know how to have happiness or joy. It’s like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. So he does stupid stuff and sabotages himself.”

My eyes widened. “Sabotages himself?” Where did she get this from?

Her cheeks flushed, and she toyed with the washcloth in her lap. “I’ve been reading up about it. Psych books. Been taking them out of the library so I can understand him better.”

I gaped at her. “You’re interested in psychology?”

“I wanted to make him better,” she said defensively.

“I’m not complaining,” I said to reassure her, “but some people have to help themselves. It’s not what you want. It’s what they want.”

“I know, but I thought I could get through to him. And it seemed like I was at first. I made progress. We were doing good.”

“And what happened?” I asked.

“We got serious. I mean, really serious.”

The doorknob jiggled.

“Listen,” I whispered. “You think he loves you? Use it, then. Sweet talk him.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t—”

“No hysterics,” I warned.

The door opened, and Trenton came back in. His face was white.

Sage stood. She cast me a glance, and I nodded.

She took a breath. “Trenton—”

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I don’t want food. I want—”

“Everything will work out,” he promised.

Sage blinked several times. She was going to start crying again. Not good. I wasn’t sure if her crying had contributed to him going off earlier or not.

“My wrists are hurting me.” I hung my head and did my best to look sad and forlorn.

Sage latched onto my cue. “My mom. Can’t you free her? We won’t do anything. I swear we won’t.” She walked over to him and ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m not leaving,” she promised. “I’ll be good.”

Trenton grabbed her hand and kissed it. Tenderly. Did he really love her? Maybe in a way he did. But then he dropped it and shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t risk her leaving. I need her. Once everything is all sorted out, she can go. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

She can go. Meaning me. He wants Sage yet. What an idiot. Like that was going to happen.

Sage’s hand closed into a fist, and I could almost see a change come over her. She was done crying. She was done being the victim. “You won’t untie her? Fine. The least you can do is apologize.”

Trenton winced. “Yeah. I said some really horrible things. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to my mom!”

He kneeled down in front of me. A little over the top, but okay. “I’m sorry. I’m just under a lot of…You don’t need excuses.” Then he stood and walked over to Sage, grabbing her hands. “It won’t be much longer. I promise. Everything will be fixed, and we can go and live our lives the way we want to. A fresh slate. It’ll be worth it. I swear.” He kissed her fingers then her lips and walked back out of the place.

Sage immediately set about trying to undo my bindings, but she made no headway and had to scramble away when Trenton came back inside ten minutes later.

“Lunch,” he announced cheerily, and he provided us with fast food like it was a feast. He stayed and ate with us—Sage had to feed me because he refused to untie me—and talked about how great their future was going to be.

Sage did her best to sound excited, and she did a decent enough job at it. The poor girl wasn’t an actress, but Trenton didn’t seem to notice. As for me, I didn’t say a blasted thing.

But when he left again, I called Sage over. “My cell. It dropped on the floor after Trenton hit me with the gun. Did he take it?”

“In the aftermath, I put my foot on top of it and shoved it underneath the bed. I forgot all about it.” She was already on the floor, digging around. “There,” she said triumphantly, holding it up above her head after she climbed back out.

“Good.” A lucky break for once. Watch. The battery will be dead. “Call Grant.”

She pushed buttons on it then hesitated. “You really…”

“Yes. It’s not what you think.” My stomach twisted. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought either. Then again, what did I think? I had originally only slept with Grant to feel good. I figured it out just be a one-time thing. Even then, I’d figured Grant probably slept around a lot, and Trenton claimed that, too. It wasn’t hard to believe it. Did Grant care enough about me to come?

Of course he did. He wanted to find Trenton and Sage, too. If he found them, he’d find me. But first he had to learn where we were and that I had been taken.

Sage was staring at me, the phone in her lap.

“I swear,” I added, “we were just—”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly. “You deserve to find someone. From what Trenton said…Never mind. Can’t trust a blasted thing out of his mouth.” She pressed one more button and held the phone up to her ear.

Trenton burst in. He spied the phone, and his face fell. He grabbed it out of Sage’s hand. “Why do you have this? Who else do you need?” His eyes turned stormy. “You weren’t about to call the cops, were you?”

“I was gonna call Corinne,” she lied. “We’re gonna get married, right? I have to have a maid of honor. You know it’s gonna be Corinne, and we have so much planning to do. Flowers and the reception and—”

“You know we’re gonna have to elope. I might be getting some money, but it won’t be a lot. Not enough for a wedding and reception and for us to survive.”

“Even if we elope, we still gotta have witnesses,” Sage said. “Let me just call Corinne and see when she’s free.”

“You weren’t gonna call the cops?” His gaze shifted toward me. “Or Grant?”

“Do we really have to go through with this?” she asked quietly. “Do you really have to hold my mom for ransom? Can’t we just leave and—”

“You know they’ll follow us.”

“We can use different names,” she cried.

Different names? My goodness, they were in a mess of trouble if she felt the need to suggest that!

He stared down at the phone. “You called Corinne.” His face was one of such hope and love that I had to blink. Wow. This guy really was off his rockers. He was nuts.

But he was truly in love with Sage, as twisted as that love was.

“No. Wait. That’s a missed call. You dialed Grant.”

“My finger slipped.”

“Babe, you’re starting to piss me off.” Trenton began to pace in the room, clutching my cell so tightly in his hand I was afraid it was gonna break. “I let you have your phone because I knew you would call your mom and lead her here.”

She flushed.

My eyes widened. Had she tried to steal her cell back from him? I hadn’t even thought about why she had waited so long to text me. Maybe Trenton had taken her phone away, and then she “stole” it back to text me.

But it seemed like it had been a test, and even though she had texted me and had led me here, it still seemed like she failed.

“I wanted you to prove yourself, to show you loved me and really wanted to be with me, but all you wanted to do was leave.”

“No, Trenton, that’s not true. I—”

“Yes, it is. You were crying so much. Nothing I could say or do made you happy anymore. Don’t you still want to be with me? You said forever.” He looked so crestfallen. Was he playing her, playing us, even as we were trying to play him? I didn’t think he was acting.

But even if he did love her, this was all so wrong. You didn’t get into drugs to make money if you wanted to have a long, lasting relationship with someone. No. You found a real job and paid the bills and paid the rest of your dues. You crawled your way up the ladder. That was how you made a name for yourself. That was how you lived.

Love, that was a bonus, but that also needed work. Hard work. It wasn’t about being with just anybody. It was about being with someone who challenged you, who made you see the world in a different way. It was about give and take. It was about more than just.

Thinking about love made me think about Grant. We hadn’t known each other for that long, but in a lot of ways, I felt like I had known him for a long, long time. We were different, but we weren’t too different.

I wanted to spend more time with Grant. I wanted to know all of his hopes and dreams. More than that, I wanted to help make his hopes and dreams come true. I wanted them to be aligned with my own hopes and dreams. I wanted him to help me out of this situation, but I also wanted him in my life.

A terrible situation had thrown us together, but that situation would’ve been that much worse if we never would’ve crossed paths.

A chance encounter…or maybe not. I didn’t really believe in coincidences. Maybe fate had brought Grant and I together.

I cast a sideways glance at Trenton and Sage. Maybe fate had brought them together, too, but to what end? So Trenton could kill us? So Trenton could end up dead from the other drug dealers? Or so Sage could hit rock bottom and learn and grow and finally be the woman I had always wanted her to be?

Only time would tell.

Too bad time might be the one thing we were running out of.

Chapter 16

Victoria

My nerves were on fire. “Forever,” I said, my voice trembling with agitation. I took a calming breath. “Forever is a really long time.”

“Yeah. So?” Trenton grimaced. “You never wanted me with Sage in the first place, let alone forever.”

I cocked my head to the side and glanced at my tied wrists before looking at him again.

He flushed. “I…”

“Forever shouldn’t start out this way,” I said quietly. “Let me go and—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I want to, but I can’t.”

“Please.” Sage threw her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “Just let my mom go. I’ll stay. I swear. I said forever, and I mean it.”

“Your finger didn’t slip. You wanted to call Grant. You wanna leave.” He shook his head. “Grant will come, all right. He’ll bring the money, and then you can go.”

Her gaze locked with mine. “You’ll allow my mom to come to the wedding, won’t you?” she asked.

Trenton flushed. “I don’t think—”

“She’s my mom!” Her eyes brightened. She was really starting to get into this acting thing. Sage clapped her hands. “I know! Let’s get married now!”

What in the world? But you needed a wedding license. They didn’t have one, right? Please tell me they didn’t have one.

Trenton shook his head. “We can’t—”

“Sure, we can! I have a nice white dress back at the apartment. I can go and grab it. Take a long shower. My mom can do my hair. I’m sure we can find a worker at the courthouse to be our second witness.”

“You’re not leaving,” he growled.

“Right. It’ll save time if you go and get it while I shower.” Sage giggled. “There’s no reason to wait.”

“You just want me to leave so you two can try to escape. I’m not stupid, Sage.” He gently pushed her away.

“Can you blame me?” She crossed her arms, and her eyes flashed. “Yes, I was crying. Yes, I was scared. You were scared, too. You’re still scared. That’s why we’re still here! The money won’t change anything. Us…” She grabbed his hands. “We’re all that matters. Not Mom. Not Grant. Not any of them. Let’s just go—”

“Sage. You know we can’t.”

“We can! We—”

I cleared my throat. I’d heard enough. “I can write you a check for one hundred thousand. That enough for you to start over somewhere?”

Trenton gripped Sage to his side. “We’d be followed, and we’d be killed. We gotta pay them off.”

“We,” I repeated. “They know about Sage?”

I wasn’t quite sure who the they were, and I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.

“Don’t worry about it. Just stop talking about money. Stop talking about leaving. We’re staying put, and that’s final.” He released Sage and walked over to me, squeezing my chin so hard it hurt. “I would stop putting ideas into your daughter’s head if I were you.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” He released his hold on me so fast my head jerked to the side.

“Trenton,” Sage started.

“Don’t Trenton me. This will all work out. I swear it will. Just let me do what I gotta do, all right? Then we won’t have to worry about a thing. We won’t be followed, and we can get married, and we can be free to do whatever we want.”

I swallowed hard. He wasn’t getting Sage. He wasn’t going to get his way. He was desperate enough to kidnapping and ransom. What would he be capable of once he realized Sage was playing him?

“Let’s watch some—” His cell rang, cutting him off. Trenton mumbled a curse and left the room, banging he door shut behind him.

“Go to the window,” I instructed. “See if he’s out front or if you can make a break for it.”

Sage shook her head. “Don’t you think I would’ve left earlier if I could’ve? This place is a dump. It’s so old that it doesn’t have electronic keycard access. He locks the door from the outside. He switched the lock around when we got here.”

What a psycho.

“Well, not right when we got here. Once he couldn’t handle my…” Sage sniffed. “My crying. Oh goodness, Mom, I’m so sorry. I should’ve…I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve realized…I just thought he loved me, and I loved him and…”

“It’s all right,” I murmured. “It’s all right.”

It took me some time to console her. Once she finally stopped crying, I could hear footsteps outside and a mumbled voice. Trenton wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He was right outside.

“You don’t have your cell on you, right?” I asked.

She shook her head. “He took it away once he realized I made contact with you. I thought he hadn’t realized I took it, but he knew. He knows. Mom, what are we gonna do?”

Good question. Not that I had an answer for her.

I glanced around the room, desperate for anything that my help, and my gaze fell onto the room phone. “Does that work?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not,” I mumbled. “Did he rig it?”

“I think so.”

We were locked in without a phone. No way to call for help. No way to warn Grant that Trenton was desperate, so desperate that he couldn’t be trusted. No way to let Grant know Trenton had a gun. No way for me to get free. No way to talk our way out of this mess.

What were we gonna do? And would we survive whatever was to come next?

Grant, if you’re coming, be safe. Be smart. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Don’t you dare play the hero and come here by yourself. We have to play our cards right. We have to be smart. We can’t become like Trenton. We can’t be desperate.

I cleared my throat. “We’ve gotta have a plan…”

Chapter 17

Grant

There was one quick detour I had to take before I could go after Victoria and Sage, and it wasn’t the bank. Trenton wasn’t going to get one cent from me. It wasn’t that I wasn’t willing to pay up. I had the money, and I would pay double that to get Victoria back if that was the only way to get her back.

But it wasn’t the only way.

Courtesy of the men in the car, I now knew for a fact that Trenton’s problem laid with the brutes at Cowboy’s Lasso. Trenton was only a symptom. The root of the problem lay there. It was always best to go after the problem at its root.

By now, my phone had died, but it wasn’t as if I needed to call Victoria again. I knew where she was. True, Trenton might call back, but he could leave a message. I wasn’t too concerned about that right now.

It was just after noon when I arrived at the bar. I strolled inside, and I couldn’t help feeling like I had walked into an old saloon, the kind where people would have shootouts. Well, I was carrying my gun, so if it came to it, I could draw.

“We’re not open yet,” a waitress said as she buzzed around tables, fixing the salts and peppers.

“I’m not here for food.”

She gave me a second glance and slowly smiled. “What are you looking for?” she flirted.

I grimaced. “Your boss.”

Her lips tugged into a pout. “He’s not—”

“He is.” I took a step toward her.

She backed away, slamming into another table. “He’s not here,” she insisted.

“Then where is he?” I growled.

“I’m right here.” I glanced over to see a man who looked like he had once weighed a decent amount but had lost it really fast so he had excess skin. He was short, with beady eyes, and he kept sniffing, his nose red. He’d come out from the back and walked around the bar to where the seating area began. “What do you want?” he asked.

“You the owner?” I demanded.

“So what if I am?” He lifted his chin. “Dolores, take five.”

“You sure?” The waitress scampered out of there faster than a jackrabbit.

“We gonna have a problem?” the owner asked.

“Depends.” I glowered at him. “You gonna cooperate?”

“Only with friends.” He crossed his arms. Despite the weight issue, he had some muscle on him, but I could take him. I spent an hour at the gym five days a week.

“I’ll be your friend.”

His lips twisted into a sneer. “It’ll cost ya.”

What the heck was it with him and Trenton wanting my money?

“I’ll buy you a beer.” That was all I would offer him.

He laughed, the sound deep and echoing in the empty bar. “I prefer something else to be honest with ya.”

“Oh, a fruity drink?”

Again, the owner laughed, but this time it sounded a little cold. “A wise guy, huh?”

“Or wise rear. Take your pick.” I shrugged.

Now the laugh seemed more genuine.

“You prefer the hard stuff,” I surmised.

He nodded.

“Cocaine or heroin?”

His eyes clouded over. “Get the heck out of here before I—”

“What? Call the cops?” I stalked around the tables and booths and only halted when I stood directly in front of him. “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.”

He reached for his side.

I reached for mine.

The owner slowly moved his hand, lifting it. “Now, now. Take it easy, there.”

“I’ll take it easy once I got what I came for.”

His eyes narrowed so much I could hardly see them. “What exactly is it you want?”

“Nothing really.” I kept my hand on the handle of my gun but didn’t put it out. I didn’t want to fire it any more than he wanted to be shot. When it came to threats against myself, I tended to not react with violence, but if you came after my family, well, that was another story. I would use violence if pushed enough. I wasn’t quite pushed enough at the second, but that could change in an instant, and I would be ready if this guy crossed the line.

“My stuff is the best there is, but if you think you can just come in here and threaten me and—”

“I don’t want your trash,” I snapped.

His eyes widened, and he backpedaled a step. “I don’t need a business partner trying to cut into my profits.”

“I’m not a dealer. I’m not a user either.”

“So what the heck do you want?”

My hand released my gun, and I gripped his shirt into my tight fist. “You listen here, and you listen good. I want to know everything you know about Trenton.”

“Who?”

I slammed my other hand on the back of a chair. “I’m not messing around. Trenton Young. You know him, I know you do.”

The guy’s face twisted into disgust at the name, but he shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t—”

“You do know.”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.” He tried to loosen my hold on his shirt.

I kept my hand on shirt while my other hand brought out my gun. I made a show of putting it on the table next to us. “You were saying?”

“The heck you want that idiot for?” the owner snapped. “He’s nothing but a idiot, a thorn in my side. If I catch him, I swear to heaven, I’d bury him myself. Bury him alive.”

Just then, the guards who threatened Victoria came toward us from the back. “What’s going on here?” the one asked.

“Nothing.” The owner grimaced at me. “Just leave us be.”

“You sure?” the other asked.

“Sure. Just two fellas talking.” The owner glanced over his shoulder and waited until they left. “I need a drink,” he muttered. “You look like you could use one, too.”

My nostrils flared. “Fine, but only if it comes with—”

“A side of info.” The owner nodded. “Yeah. For idiot’s sake,” he grumbled when I released him. I might’ve shoved him a little, but I made sure he saw that I put my gun away. He knew I meant business, and since I wasn’t going after his drugs or his money, he hopefully felt the need to tell me what I wanted to know.

He poured two stout beers and drained his.

I nursed mine, eyeing him.

After he poured himself another one—a great pour, by the way, the bar must not just be a cover for him and his drug side business—he sighed. “What do ya wanna know?”

“Let’s just say he crossed me, and I wanna know who else he crossed.”

The man snarled a laugh, the sound dark and twisted. “That boy’s gonna end up dead twenty different ways, and I’m gonna spit on his grave.”

“What did he do?” I grumbled. I wanted to know just how messed up the situation was for Trenton. I needed to know and understand his mindset. I didn’t think he would do anything to hurt the girls, but when a man crossed over into being a desperate animal, all bets were off. Just look at what Trenton’s father had been capable of.

“I saw the kid. He came in a lot. Him and his girl. He loved her. Wanted to do right by her.” The owner snorted.

Mixing with this guy wasn’t the way to do right by anyone, not your girl and not yourself.

Why the heck didn’t you come to me, Trenton? Was it money? Was that why you got messed with this waste of life?

“So I gave him a job. Thought I would help him out. He scratched my back, I scratched his, ya know?”

“I know.” I drained my glass.

The owner drank half of his and belched. “Gah. It burns.” He tapped his chest. “Anyway, he did good at first. Better than I expected. So I trusted him with more jobs.”

“What exactly did he do for you?”

“Sold my goods.” The guy flashed a smile that slowly died. “Up until he didn’t.”

“What happened?”

“The lousy kid. He’d been working for me for months, so I trusted him. Trusted him. Gave him a huge drug stash. Huge. I’m talking a lot.” The man drank the rest of his, filled it a third time, and drained it again before continuing with his story. He didn’t seem to notice that my glass was empty, not that I wanted a refill. “Well, the idiot couldn’t keep it. And I don’t mean he sold it. No. The kid had it stolen. All of it. Every last gram.”

So that was why Trenton had kidnapped Victoria. He somehow figured out that Victoria meant something to me, and he expected me to solve all his problems. If I paid him, he would pay the owner. And then what? What did Trenton think would come next? Sage couldn’t be stupid enough to want to be with him after all this, right?

And Victoria…she meant something to me. She was an amazing woman, and I didn’t just mean in the bedroom. Her drive and determination had gotten her so far in life, between her job and being able to adopt a girl as a single woman. Her family meant as much to her as my family meant to me.

And the thing was, I considered her part of my family. Did I mean the same to her? I couldn’t be sure. I liked to think that, and honestly, it didn’t matter. I would do everything for her and for Sage. That was all there was to it. We had plenty of time yet to sort everything out together.

So long as nothing happened to either of us. So long as there was a together.

I shook my thoughts away. “So he had the huge stash stolen, huh?”

“Yeah. That rat rear kid owes me the money for it. I don’t care who pays me, but someone’s gonna give me what I want.”

I cleared my throat. “You threatening me?”

“Nah, man. But I’m gonna get paid. One way or another.” He appraised me. “How do you know the kid anyhow? You said he crossed ya, right?”

“Dang straight he did,” I growled.

A sudden thought occurred to me. I swore I wasn’t trying to make an excuse for Trenton and his deplorable actions, but I never would’ve thought him capable of kidnapping and ransom before, but if the idea had been planted…

Someone’s gonna give me what I want.

I leveled the owner a stare that had him grabbing my cup and filling it, not that I took it back or drank it. “Gonna get paid one way or another, huh? You tell Trenton that?”

“I made it clear he better pay up if he knew what was good for ’im, yeah. Why? What’s the big deal?”

“You tell him a few ways to come up with the dough?”

The man screwed up his brow. “Not sure I’m followin’ ya.”

The guy wasn’t a moron, and that he was playing dumb aggravated more than I could say.

“I’m talking about extortion,” I said through gritted teeth. “Kidnapping.”

“Oh, hey, man. You got me all wrong.” The owner backed up a few steps, his hands raised in a defenseless manner. “I would never—”

“Yeah, I doubt that. You made it quite clear that you want your money, and you know Trenton doesn’t have it just sitting in a bank, waiting to be withdrawn.”

“I never—”

My gun made a reappearance.

The guy’s face whitened. “Look. I might’ve said—”

“You remember Victoria?” I demanded.

“Victoria?” His confusion seemed genuine.

“Your goons stopped her when she wanted to find out about her daughter.” I gestured with my chin toward the back entrance.

“Oh. Yeah. I might remember being told about an incidence. She was asking for trouble, snooping around and—”

“And she knew her daughter frequented here with Trenton.”

“Daughter? Look, man—” He was sweating bullets.

I lined up the gun so it was level with his chest. “Because of you and your threats, Trenton nabbed Victoria and Sage. If anything happens to them, you’re dead.”

“Hey, man, I swear I have nothing to do with it!”

I stalked toward him and tossed him against a wall. “That better stay the case. If you come near Victoria or Sage, I’ll kill you myself.”

He gulped nervously. His goons came back. Seriously, didn’t they listen to their boss? “Is something wrong?” the owner snapped.

“We were gonna ask you that.” The taller one glared at me.

If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“We’ve come to an understanding.” The owner adjusted his shirt and walked around me. “Everything is just fine. Just fine. Right?” He turned back to me.

I snorted. For being a drug dealer, he’d been easy enough to scare. I knew I could be menacing when I wanted to be, but this had almost been too easy. But a scared kid like Trenton wouldn’t have the guts or the drive or the intimidation necessary to stand up for himself. Idiot, if he had all that, he never would’ve had the drug stash stolen in the first place.

I stared down the owner. “We’re fine,” I barked. I jerked around, stared down his boys, and rushed out of there.

Trenton was just a punk kid. He didn’t know the rules of the game, and he was afraid he was going to get burned. Too bad he didn’t realize he was already on fire. He had to be desperate. Beyond desperate. I knew that even before I went to the bar, but now that I knew the full extent of his situation, I realized just how dangerous he could be. Whether or not he was using again himself, he was like a caged animal, and when caged animals were let loose, like he was, they tended to bite the hand that fed them.

Which meant Sage. And Victoria.

I wasn’t much of a praying man, but I sure was praying now.

It was time to round up the boys. It was time to get my girl back. Hang in there, Victoria. It won’t be much longer now.

Chapter 18

Victoria

The desperation I felt was insurmountable. Trenton wasn’t taking any chances. When I pleaded with him that I had to go to the bathroom—I had a feeling I was dehydrated considering I had been here for a long while by this point and I hadn’t had to go until now—he untied me and walked me into the bathroom. He brought along Sage, too, and they talked about nothing in particular, staying in the tiny bathroom with me as I went. No privacy. No chance for anything but actually taking care of my business.

Ever since his phone call, Trenton had been on edge. He was terrified. He was back to being snippy with both Sage and me. He would apologize to her, which was more than I expected from him.

If he had spent more time around Grant, he might’ve been able to overcome his past and grow up and become a real man instead of this poser of one.

If he had learned to accept love and thought himself worthy of it, he might’ve realized Sage really had loved him instead of pushing her away at times because he thought he was incapable of being loved.

If he had actually gotten a real job instead of falling back into his destructive ways and returning to drugs, he might’ve been able to get a place and settle down with her, like he was still talking about wanting.

Honestly, it was almost tragic. He hated himself—that was plain to see. His sense of love and hate were too closely merged. That was why he treated Sage like a goddess at times—when I hadn’t been around to see it—and like a misogynist jerk at other times. If you couldn’t love yourself, you couldn’t love others, and what good was a life without love?

Yes, Sage had told me many times I needed to get laid. I’d brushed it off as a teen wanting her mom to back off and let her do what she wanted, but maybe she had a point. I was so wrapped up in her and the restaurant that I had stopped doing anything for myself. I used to be a runner, even ran a few races. I hadn’t run in a long time, though. Just stopped making the time for it. Outside of my roles as mom and restaurant owner, I didn’t know who I was.

And now that I was in danger, I was second-guessing myself on a lot of things. I told Grant I never went on a vacation, and that was the truth. Sad. How pathetic was that? And all because work was my life. I lived and breathed for it, outside of Sage.

Yes, she was nineteen, but look where her choices had led us. She needed me yet. I needed to be there for her, but I also needed to be there for myself. As it was, I was fretting over how the restaurant was going without me, especially now that I didn’t have my phone and couldn’t help with any complications that might arise in my absence. Maybe this could serve as a trial run, so when I got free—God willing when and not if—I could finally go on that vacation.

With Sage?

Or with Grant?

When Sage and Trenton were talking—like they were now—I tended to zone out. Honestly, there was no way for me to get free. Trenton had tied me even tighter after my trek to the bathroom. Without a phone and with him making it a point to never leave the hotel room, we were stuck here. Sage was doing all she could to try to keep Trenton calm, but she was on edge herself, and sometimes they fought.

But when they were just talking, I could let my mind wander, and as much as I worried about our situation and the restaurant, I often found my thoughts turning back to Grant. I knew him. I knew he would come. If the whole phone call when Trenton had me say his name really was a ransom call, I knew Grant wouldn’t bother to pay. He’d show up, and I had no way to warn him Trenton had a gun. If anything were to happen to Grant, I would be devastated.

In the short amount of time we had together, he had come to mean a lot to me, more than I would’ve thought possible. Maybe it was the fear of not having a tomorrow talking, but I desperately wanted a tomorrow with Grant. More than just a tomorrow. Maybe a whole lot more.

I’d always thought of love as something I would never have. I just never planned on making time for it. I hadn’t dated a lot in high school, and I never went to college. I’d always been goal oriented. When I set my sights on something—like the restaurant or adopting Sage—I did whatever it took to turn that goal into reality.

But now I was realizing what I had been missing out on. Love wasn’t a waste of time. It wasn’t something to be brushed aside or ignored. It could be empowering in its own right, lift you up instead of drag you down or hold you back.

I might be speaking from experience.

But along with the knowledge that I had fallen for Grant came fear, and, heck, could fear drag you down. If Grant came in here with his own gun, would Trenton shoot him? Trenton reeked of desperation. This whole situation proved that.

Sage was lying down, either sleeping or pretending to be. For the most part, she was trying to sweet talk Trenton, to convince him she loved him despite everything. Trenton, though, was paranoid and uptight and anxious, so at times he accepted her and others he lashed out, but that was mostly geared toward himself.

Oh, honey. Sage… I wish I could’ve saved you from this. I should’ve done more to convince you he wasn’t the guy for you. I let fear hold me back from being the mother I should’ve been. And I didn’t understand love. My dad had been a deadbeat, so I never saw a healthy, mature loving relationship growing up. I thought it was the stuff of fairytales, that it was overrated.

But I shouldn’t have thought less of you for wanting that, for craving more love than I could give you. I channeled my love into my work, but that isn’t for everyone, and maybe my being a workaholic isn’t healthy itself. I’ve always wanted to do what was best for you, and I’m sorry I failed you.

Rest easy, Sage. Don’t cry any more. We’ll find a way out of this.

Trenton cleared his throat softly. He had been lying on the bed beside Sage, flipping through a magazine, but now he sat up. “You hungry? Could order some pizza.”

Ugh. I was pizza-d out.

My face must’ve given my thought away because he snorted a quiet laugh. “I know this isn’t ideal,” he started.

“Not ideal?” I all but shrieked. I winced at my loud tone, but Sage didn’t stir. Come on. If Sage can try to reach him despite her fears, you can keep your cool and do your part. “That’s an understatement,” I added more quietly.

“Yeah, well…” He ran a hand through his hair. In that moment, he looked both younger than his age but also older, like time had been unduly harsh to him.

I thought I had pieced most of it together, but still, I had to ask, “Why are you doing this, Trenton?”

No matter what he said, no matter his reasoning, he was crazy. Sage deserved someone so much better than Trenton. He needed help. He needed a shrink to work through his issues, and he needed jail to keep his sorry rear away from drugs. Maybe if he could completely cut ties to the drug life, he’d be able to start making a positive change in his life.

But I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair again, stood, and began to pace in the crammed motel room. “I was trying to make a name for myself. I was trying to earn money. Sage and I…We got into a fight. Sage either wanted us to move forward, or she was threatening to break up with me. And Sage…she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. My life…my dad…” Trenton halted, shoulders slumped.

I said nothing. I didn’t know if his knowing that Grant had filled me in on details about his tragic past would set him off again.

After a moment, he resumed his pacing and his story. “So I asked her to marry me. And she said maybe. Maybe! She wasn’t playin’ me. She wanted to make sure I could take care of her, provide for her. And I wanted to. I wanted to buy her a ring and a dress and a house and everything. Well, maybe an apartment at first, but I wanted—still want—to give her everything she wants.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose.

That idea of Sage getting engaged at her age made me wince, but the idea of marriage itself no longer filled me with disdain. Not that I wanted to rush things with Grant, of course, but maybe one day.

If one day comes.

I inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “That’s what every woman wants,” I said with a hint of sarcasm, “for a man to give her everything she wants.”

Instead of getting it for herself. Or instead of them getting what they both want together.

My sarcasm must’ve gone over Trenton’s head because he actually gave me a smile. He really was a handsome kid. It wasn’t hard to understand why Sage had gravitated to him from the start.

He walked over to me and sat in front of me. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it, about us moving forward, so that was another reason why I had to…Sage thinks the world of you, and I knew if I couldn’t get you on board with the idea of us getting married, Sage would hesitate to be with me.” Trenton rubbed his throat and stopped talking.

A few minutes passed. Wasn’t he going to go on?

“What happened next?”

“I went ring shopping. That it would make it more real to Sage, ya know? But the prices…I couldn’t even afford a speck of a diamond. And a place of our own and utilities and food…I needed a job, one that could pay a lot.” I held my silence, but Trenton didn’t pause for long this time. “I made a mistake,” he said bluntly. “I got into the game, and it played me.”

“What game?”

“One night after Sage brought me a bridal magazine and showed me a gown that cost two grand all excited about our future, I knew I had to go out and make it happen. But I had no idea how to. I had put out a ton of feelers for jobs, but they were all nasty positions with little pay. Dead end jobs with no way to advance or nothing.”

I pursed my lips. If you wanted something badly enough, you took the time and the dedication to make it work the right way. Good things came to those who wait, but also to those who worked their rears off.

Of course I didn’t say any of this to Trenton.

“After she left for the night, I went to the bar.”

Before I could help myself, I said, “Cowboy’s Lasso.”

He nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Stayed late until I was the last one there. Just the bartender and me. I told him I needed money bad, and I thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head. Guess he thought I couldn’t pay my tab. I slapped my last twenty onto the bar. Not a good idea, spending the last of my money on alcohol, but…”

I glanced over at Sage. She was breathing way too rhythmically and evenly for her to be faking sleep. I’d no idea she and Trenton had been contemplating marriage. We hadn’t been as close as I liked to think we had been. Maybe because you pushed her away, pushed her toward Trenton even though you wanted the opposite. How many times had she asked me to go to the movies with her? Or to go out shopping? And I had always been busy with the restaurant.

My stomach twisted into knots. “I could use a drink myself right now,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

“Haven’t had a drop to drink since that night.” Trenton’s eyes were glazed. He was lost in remembering. His hands were tight fists in his lap. This wasn’t a happy memory for him.

“Wish you could go back?”

“I’d change things, yeah.” He blew air out of his nose. “But I can’t. I’m stuck.”

I opened my mouth to argue that point, but he didn’t give me the chance to.

“The bartender ignored my twenty, told me to wait, and went to the back. When he returned, he was with another man. The owner. Kyle Lawerson. He sat me down, bought me a beer, and we discussed terms of business.”

“What kind of business?” But I already knew. The drugs Grant had found in Trenton’s apartment told that story.

“Drugs. Selling them,” he said bluntly. “I kept my job a secret from Sage for a while, and things we starting to look up. I was making some money—although not as much as I wanted to yet because Lawerson started me out slow—and I did my best to save it, but now that I had money to spend…”

“You spent it.”

“Yeah. And Sage started to ask questions about my job, especially when it started to cut into some of our time together, and I didn’t want to keep secrets from her. She knew all my past.” He grimaced, and I could see the scars his past still cut into him.

“Your past?” I didn’t want to let on how much I already knew. Better to let him talk. Grant had to be on his way, right? We just needed to bide our time until he could come here and save us. I hated being the damsel in distress, but with me being tied up and Trenton still having that gun, the only way I could help myself was to keep him calm. He could be moody and irrational, but the fights lately had been kept to a minimum, and I desperately wanted to keep it that way.

Then again, the idea of taking away that gun was intriguing, even if it was dangerous. I couldn’t wait for him to turn back to his jerk side to try to steal it away, but for right this moment, we would keep on talking. Maybe once he told me everything, then I could feign going to the bathroom to get untied.

“My father was a piece of trash,” he said bluntly. “He did a bunch of drugs, all kinds. How he never ended up overdosing, I don’t know. He was fine when he was high and drugged up, but when he came crashing down, his fists came out, and his tongue was just as vicious. He was a…He was a terrible man and worse father. He…He was even worse than her mom.” He gestured with his head toward the still sleeping Sage. “He preferred drugs and being high over being there for me and my mom. I didn’t understand why. I grew up scared and angry. So bitter all of the time. Eventually, though, it got to the point that I was curious. So I did a little experimenting on my own to see what the hype was all about. I didn’t become addicted like my father,” he was quick to add.

“Oh, no. Of course not,” I murmured, doing my best to sound sympathetic. And I was, to an extent. No one could deny he had a horrific childhood. Some people couldn’t get over their upbringing, but Trenton had made strides in that direction. Joining the motorcycle club could’ve and should’ve been all he needed. But he hadn’t turned toward them for help. And he had fallen back down into the rabbit hole.

“When my father found out…” Trenton shuddered, and he rubbed his arm as if it pained him. Had his father abused him? “He went through the roof. He was convinced I had stolen from his stash. I hadn’t, but I didn’t even bother trying to tell him that. He wouldn’t listen to me. Never had. Never would. That’s when…You don’t need to hear all of that.” He stared into the distance, his eyes glazed over, and I just knew he was lost in a sea of memories. The lines of worry and despair that forged along his features aged him. Life had been cruel to Trenton. Very tragic.

And I had a feeling it would end tragically, too.

Tragically for just him or for us, as well? Only time would tell.

“I just wanted to make a name for myself,” he muttered, and I got the feeling he was more talking to himself than to me. “I just wanted to earn some money. I wanted to give Sage the kind of life she deserved. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. Yeah, sure, we fight sometimes, but all couples do…and…I swear I would do anything for her. Sage…What with her mom and all…Her life had been just as nasty.” He straightened slightly and fixed me a cold, hard stare. There was hatred burning in his eyes, and I fidgeted in the chair as much as my bindings would allow. “Even after you came into her life.”

I swallowed hard. Did Sage feel that way, too? How had I made her life nasty? I tried to give her a good life!

“You were always so demanding,” he said, wearing a nasty scowl. “Making her keep your place clean.”

“A few chores—” I started, but he cut me off.

“You treated her like a slave. You only cared about your stupid restaurant. What was adopting Sage to you? A way to get sympathy from other people? Is that it?”

“What?” I reeled back as much as I could, feeling like I had been slapped. This was a far worse way to attack me than physically. “No! I—”

“I mean, seriously. She’s nineteen, and you still keep her on as a dishwasher.” He sneered. “What’s up with that? You were—are—demeaning to her.”

My cheeks flushed. They had to be bright red. “I was trying to teach—”

“You and Grant are both the same.” He turned his head to the side and spat. I winced. So disgusting. I didn’t see his point, but figured he would elaborate, and boy, did he. “Cut from the same cloth. You two deserve each other. No wonder he’s so stuck on you. He’s just as much a judgmental jerk as you are.”

I opened my mouth to counter.

Trenton held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. I can see it in your eyes. You’re looking down on me.”

“I would never,” I said quietly, truthfully. “Life’s tough. I—”

“Don’t give me that trash!” He glanced at Sage’s sleeping form and hung his head, but while his tone lowered, his rage didn’t disappear. “You’re the owner of a restaurant—”

“My mom died years ago, and I had to either make it in the world or die,” I said hotly. “I chose to live. I chose to fight. I chose to make something out of my life. What did you choose, Trenton? The easy way. And where did it get you?” I made a show of looking around as much as I could, given that I was still tied up to the chair. “Not a whole lot to show for it, huh.”

He staggered back as if I had hit him. If he wanted a war with words, he would get one. Trenton’s face went white, and he pointed to Sage. “I did it all for her.”

“Doesn’t make your choices any less crappy.” I winced inwardly. I really shouldn’t have been provoking him, but if he didn’t bring out the mama bear in me.

If he couldn’t see his own mistakes and admit to them, he would never change. If he continued to make excuses, he would never change. If he had the chance to continue down this path, he wouldn’t just not change; he would wind up dead.

If he hadn’t been able to change for Sage, the supposed love of his life, then I had my doubts that he would ever change. Didn’t they say that the road to Perdition was paved with good intentions? He might’ve taken the drug dealing job for Sage in order to provide for her, but it would’ve served him, and her, if he would’ve found a real job instead, not one that could get his rear locked up for a long time.

“I did make crappy choices,” he muttered, “and you’re right: life’s tough.”

His harsh expression melted away, back to that look of remembrance. “I sold some drugs and did decent enough that he gave me a trash ton more to sell. Only…” He inhaled deeply and sank into himself as he sat there on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “The drugs I was supposed to sell were stolen.”

Hence the need for ransom. I stiffened as a sudden thought occurred to me. If I hadn’t come along, if he hadn’t been able to find me alone and away from Grant, would Trenton have still resorted to kidnapping, but with Sage as the victim and target instead of me? Would he have called me and demanded ransom for her? But he professed to love her. As long as he thought she loved him, she was safe, right?

I swallowed hard. He had been complaining about her crying a lot before I got here. And with his mood swings, he just might’ve called me up soon. While I wasn’t happy about being tied up, I was happy Sage wasn’t here alone with him anymore. I’d suffer abuse for her sake. I wasn’t concerned about my own safety—only hers.

“He, the drug lord, is demanding payment. Threatened me. Threatened…” Trenton lowered his hands and glanced at Sage.

I inhaled sharply. That idiot! Did you mean to tell me that even if we got away, that we would still have to look over our shoulders? That some big time drug dealer was gonna come after us potentially if he didn’t get his money from Trenton? Would this nightmare ever end? It must’ve been about four hours that I’d been here. Maybe Grant wasn’t coming. Maybe I really should try to get the gun.

Trenton met my gaze and nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t have the money, and it wasn’t like I could go after the guys who stole the drugs. They had probably already sold it anyhow. I had to run. I had to. Sage came along because she loves me.” He sighed, staring at her with a look of longing that would make any woman swoon.

As long as he doesn’t learn that Sage’s seen the light. That just might be our saving grace.

I leaned forward as much as my restraints would allow. “True love will find a way.”

Which I did believe. Love always made things better. It had taken until now for me to risk opening up to someone, and yeah, maybe it was sad that it took tragedy for that to happen, but now that I had found Grant, I didn’t want to let him go. Maybe time would prove that our love wasn’t the kind to last for years, but I desperately wanted to find that out. I wanted to find out what his favorite meals were, what he liked to do in his spare time. Heck, maybe he could teach me how to ride a motorcycle. I wanted to see what life could hold for us together, and even if we didn’t work out, I wanted to put myself out there again. I wanted love, the kind from fairytales.

“Love doesn’t equal money,” he said, scowling.

“No, but I do have some money, like I said before. Let me help you.”

He shook his head. “Not enough.”

“But—”

“I have to do this. I have to.” His gun made a reappearance, and he gripped the handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. “You better hope Grant comes through with the money.”

“Or else?” I asked, trying to play it cool.

“This is loaded,” he said quietly.

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

Chapter 19

Grant

The drive back to my base took far longer than I would’ve liked. To send out some guys to get some heavier hitting ammo and guns took far longer than I would’ve liked. For us to get all squared away and ready for a showdown took far longer than I would’ve liked.

But eventually we were all armed to the teeth, and we rolled out. Two large vans of us. As much as I wanted to be one of the drivers, I elected not to. My hands were shaking—I was hopped up on too much adrenaline. I was more of a liability than anything else at this point.

We had to reach Victoria and Sage in order to save them, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to drive us there safely. It had been over three hours since Trenton had made the ransom call, and it was eating away at me that my prep work—all necessary—had taken so long.

“Drive faster,” I urged Bob.

“Any faster and she’d have to have wings,” Bob called back, sounded way too chipper.

Grumbling, swallowing a curse, I sat back in my seat. I was the passenger, a position I wasn’t comfortable with.

Behind me, the guys were going on and on about random stupid trash, and I did my best to ignore it until something inside of me snapped. I jerked around and leveled them such a glower that I didn’t have to say anything and they all still shut up immediately anyhow.

How had things come to this—for Trenton to hold women for ransom? How had I failed him? Maybe I had been too hard on him. Maybe I should’ve insisted he see a shrink and get real help.

Or maybe this had nothing to do with me.

Like phoo didn’t. For him to realize how much Victoria meant to me had to mean he’d been keeping tabs on me despite his “running away.” Which meant it was personal. To some degree. All he wanted was money. Money was as impersonal as you could get.

“Idiot me,” I mumbled to myself.

Bob glanced over. “You all right, boss?”

“Just fine,” I grumbled, not wanting to get into it.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Bob sang under his breath.

“Grow the heck up.” I slammed my fist onto the dashboard.

Bob jerked. “Sorry,” he said, sounding more sincere than he had since, well, ever.

“Don’t worry about it.” I really didn’t want to talk.

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “We’ll get him back.”

“What the heck? Don’t you know what’s going on?”

“Yeah. Tuner’s got his head up his rear again, and he’s playin’ with us, and he has your girl up for ransom.”

“First up, I don’t think he’s playin’,” I growled. “And second, I don’t have a girl.”

Bob glanced at me real quick before focusing on the road. “You took her to your place, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“You harassed her?”

I was silent. I had harassed a lot of women, but the word didn’t fit with what Victoria and I had shared. She wasn’t my girl. She wasn’t even really mine. We hadn’t known each other for long. We didn’t really know each other at all.

Not yet.

“He really messed up this time, hasn’t he?” Bob asked, his tone low.

“You got that right.”

“Drugs again?”

“Yep.”

“Using or…”

“Selling. He harassed that up, too. Had it stolen.” I hadn’t given the guys all of the details, figuring they would ask if they wanted to know. They weren’t sheep, blindly following me, but I think it was something in my tone, my attitude, or maybe my eyes that made them fall in line without question.

“Goodness.” Bob’s foot pressed down on the pedal, and the van sped up even faster with a jerk.

We were silent for a time, and I watched the scenery roll on by, the colors blurring together.

Bob cleared his throat. “Is all of this firepower necessary?” he asked quietly.

I wasn’t used to this side of him. He normally clowned around. Maybe a few jokes were what I needed, but I also kinda appreciated that he was being more levelheaded at the moment. “I hope it isn’t,” I said honestly.

Could I pull the trigger on Trenton? I sure didn’t want to find out. It sure as idiot better not come to that. He had to see the light before it reached that point.

“But we gotta be prepared,” I continued. “For any trash that might hit the fan. I mean, if we were able to track him down, it’s possible the drug lord he owes money to would be able to, too, and if they show up…”

“They’ll be packin’, too.” Bob nodded. After a moment, he pursed his lips. “This sucks, though.”

“Believe me. I know.”

Another silence. Phoo all, Trenton. You just had to go and deal. Why the heck would you do that? After drugs wrecked your childhood. There were a thousand different ways to make money. A thousand different ways that wouldn’t require you to be bullied into holding women for ransom.

If he hurt Victoria or Sage…

Was he a victim, too? In a way, but phoo, I did not feel compassion toward him right now. When I took him under my wing, I knew he was messed up in the head. I thought I had helped. Maybe I had some, but obviously it hadn’t been enough.

Sage, if you are in on this… I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t know her except for what Victoria had told me, but somehow I doubted she would be into the drug scene. Not after everything with her mom. Which meant this whole messed up situation should hopefully open her eyes and make her end things with Trenton for good. Even if Trenton survived this and got the help he needed and started to walk the straight and narrow, I still didn’t think the two of them should get back together. Trenton would need to move forward with his life and not look backward, and Sage probably would need that, too.

Victoria…There was so much I wanted to tell her. So many things I wanted to do with her. So many things I wanted to do to her. I’ll find you. I’ll save you. Just hang on. Be strong. Don’t break. And don’t piss Trenton off. Who knows what the heck he’s capable of right now. He probably feels like a caged rat right about now.

A slight smile came to my lips as I recalled how Victoria had been when we first met. Her sharp tongue, her biting words, her fierce protectiveness of her daughter…I’d been drawn to her right from the start, but if she wanted to be able to snap witty retorts to me, she would need to hold her tongue around Trenton. There was a chance that the pressure might get to him, that he might start using again, and if he did, the probability of someone getting shot would go sky high.

Victoria might be impulsive—like when she went to the bar even though we’d agreed she wouldn’t—but she was also reasonable and smart. She would do everything she could to keep herself and Sage alive. She wouldn’t provoke Trenton.

But if Trenton was using, he might not need something to set him off.

Idiot, we could not get there fast enough.

Chapter 20

Victoria

Sage was still sleeping, but I couldn’t focus on her. I kept eyeing Trenton and his gun. Was it better or worse that he had taken it out? Probably worse. At least he seemed to have calm down a little since he announced that the gun was loaded. Maybe he felt like he was more in charge now. I didn’t know.

But it was time for me to try to make a play, for better or for worse. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I announced.

He had been staring at his gun, but now he lifted his gaze to me. “Go ahead and piss yourself.”

“Seriously?” I snapped. “You really think Sage’s gonna be happy with you letting her mom wet herself?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You let me go earlier!”

“And you should be good. Wasn’t that long ago you went.”

I glowered at him. Did he suspect? Maybe I was telegraphing my plans by looking at the gun too much. Dang it! Time to change tactics slightly. “Do you really want to smell my urine until Grant arrives with the money?”

He glowered right back at me. “The smell would dissipate.”

Curse him! Idiot. My plan to get free had been thwarted. I just didn’t see how I could get my hands on his gun while tied up, and if he refused to untie me so I could pee, then how else could I convince? I doubted there was a way. Shoot! If only he would leave the motel room. I wanted to talk to Sage alone again. “Fine,” I bit out. “I guess I’ll do my best to hold it, but don’t you dare complain if the room starts to smell.”

He actually cracked a small smile. “I won’t complain.”

I rolled my eyes, but at least he tucked his gun inside the back of his jeans. If I couldn’t get it away from him, it at least made me feel better to not have it in his hands.

Just then, my phone went off. Throughout our conversation, someone or someones had been trying to get ahold of me, calling every few minutes.

Trenton’s face turned purple. He was starting to get majorly agitated about it as he once again rejected the call. Maybe he should just turn it off already and be done with it.

“What the heck?” he grumbled a little loudly. “Did they put up a new tower or something now that you’re getting good reception?”

I had no illusions that it was Grant calling. He would’ve started calling a long time ago, hours ago. Maybe it was someone from the restaurant. Maybe a problem had come up. The mystery was too much for me, so I couldn’t help asking, “Who’s calling?”

Trenton’s gaze slid to Sage. She was stirring. “Corinne. Why the heck is she calling you?”

“Oh.” My racing heartbeat slowed. A part of me had hoped it was Grant calling. Where was he? He was coming for us, right? I wasn’t sure how long Trenton had held us captive, but it sure felt like forever. He kept the curtains pulled tight, so I couldn’t tell if it was night or day, and he also unplugged the alarm clock. He’d mumbled something about having a migraine. Guessed the bright light from the numbers didn’t help.

“Why the heck is she calling you?” Trenton repeated. “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

“I called her a few times to see if she knew where Sage was,” I said calmly. “We got to talking some about her and her boyfriend, and I gave her some advice. She probably wants more.”

Sage stretched and sat up. She snorted and rolled her eyes. “No one wants dating advice from you, Victoria.”

I winced. Sage had gotten so deep into her role of being on Trenton’s side that she was back to talking down to me. Heck, she was so convincing that when she ganged up with him against me, it was almost impossible for me to not take it personally.

And it was even worse to hear her call me by my first name again after she’d called me Mom so many times after I found her. We haven’t been alone in forever—Trenton won’t leave the room and hadn’t had any more phone conversations, and he hadn’t even close the door to the bathroom when he showered so we couldn’t even talk then since he took the world’s quickest showers—so we were stuck using the plan from before with her trying to keep Trenton calm.

“Now, now,” Trenton said condescendingly, “Corinne knows to do the opposite of whatever she says.”

“Corinne probably wants to tell her just that. ‘I didn’t listen to your advice, and I’m so glad I didn’t!’” Sage giggled, but she wouldn’t look at me.

I swallowed hard. I could take the abuse—that was fine—but that didn’t mean that the words didn’t sting, even if I knew—hoped—Sage didn’t mean them.

And wasn’t that sad? That I wasn’t completely certain Sage had truly seen the light about Trenton. No. That was just my being paranoid. Sage had changed. She had learned. Maybe, if something good could come out of all of this huge mess, it was this—that Sage once and for all broke ties with Trenton. God willing, she would avoid all kinds of guys who were Trenton in disguise, and she’d hold out for a good guy, one who deserved her and who would make her happy and didn’t use and abuse her.

A guy like Grant.

My cheeks grew warm, and Trenton laughed cruelly. “I know you always said that your mom needed to get laid, but, heck, that doesn’t seem to have made her any less uptight.”

“That guy must not be a good lay.” Sage shrugged. “Are you hungry, babe?”

“Yeah. Want me to order a pizza?”

“Sure!”

Yes! Go order pizza and go pick it up!

But dang it all. He didn’t leave. He didn’t even have to make a phone call. He ordered straight from his phone, and it only took twenty minutes for the food to arrive. And before the delivery guy showed up, Trenton gagged me. He pushed me and the tied up chair away so it wouldn’t be visible from the door.

As soon as the delivery guy knocked, Trenton grabbed the food and closed the door in the span of two seconds. Literally. Sage didn’t even have time to yell for help.

Did my level of hate for Trenton have no bounds?

As soon as he placed the pizza box on the bed, without having to be asked, Sage grabbed a large slice form the pie. Trenton sat on the bed, waiting expectantly, and Sage delivered. She walked right on over to him, sat on his lap, and proceeded to feed him a bite.

I had to look away. My stomach was churning. I was hungry, but I wasn’t about to ask for food.

Trenton ate eagerly, licking and kissing Sage’s fingers in between bites. She giggled and hugged him, and if he was anyone else, it might actually have been cute, but that was what Trenton was best at—being two-faced. Cute and sweet and endearing for a few minutes and then the next, cruel and demanding.

I hope you land your rear in jail. I shot daggers at him with my eyes. I hope you get straightened out one day.

And I really did.

Did I think that would ever happen, though?

Nope.

Trenton finished the pizza, and Sage stood to throw his paper plate away. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands when my cell rang again. He really should just turn it off.

I opened my mouth to ask him to do just that, but he removed it from his pocket. Maybe he was gonna do it with my having to mention it.

But he just stared down at it, scowling. “I don’t want her thinking you ran off, too,” he said slowly. “Answer it, but I swear, if you try to give her a hint as to any of this…” He removed his gun from tucked behind his back and pointed it at my head.

I nodded. “You gotta answer for me.”

“You do it,” he snapped.

I glanced at my bindings.

He flushed. “Sage, you gotta keep quiet, okay? Just for a little.” He threw me a wicked glance that made my skin crawl. “I know it’s not easy for you to stay quiet and all, babe, especially when we’re, but…”

I grimaced. If I could kick him in the balls right now, I wouldn’t hesitate.

“I’ll be good,” Sage promised, but she walked over to him and pinched his butt. Everything from the cocky tilt of her head to her lopsided grin oozed of sexual appeal.

Actress is right. a blasted good one, too. Maybe she should forget about going into psychology and just head for Hollywood.

Chuckling, Trenton whispered something in her ear before swiping for me and then putting the call on speaker.

“Victoria? Are you there?” Corinne’s loud voice filled the room.

“I’m here.” I cleared my throat. “What’s up?”

“So I did what you said.”

Trenton snorted and covered his mouth.

“What was that?” Corinne asked.

“The TV,” I lied smoothly. “So you…” What had I told her to do? Oh, yeah. “You went out and had a day to yourself. How did it go?”

“Terribly!” she wailed. “I had never been more bored in my life. I am so not meant to be single!”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I watched a few movies on Netflix, but then I remembered that you really wanted me to leave the house, so I went to the movies and watched a romantic comedy, and it was just so perfect and funny and sappy, and my life isn’t like that at all.”

“No one’s is.”

“But that’s what I want,” she said. “I need that. I need the happiness. I need a break.”

“A break from…”

“From everything!” she wailed.

Trenton rolled his eyes. Sage bit her lower lip. She opened her mouth, closed it, and dropped her gaze to the ground.

“Then take a break,” I suggested, staring at Sage. “How did Jack take you having a day to yourself?”

“He didn’t care for it.”

“Why not?” I asked. I was only half paying attention to the conversation. Should I be trying to warn Sage through my talk with Corinne? Or should I be trying to relay a hint to Corinne? But how? Trenton was stilling pointing the gun to me with one hand, the cell in his other. While I didn’t think he would actually shoot me, I also didn’t want to set him off. He had been disappearing into the bathroom a lot more often lately—never for long and he always kept the door open—but his personality would always change then. He’d laugh more, his eyes were glossy, and I had a feeling he had a stash of drugs hidden away. Whenever his high came down, he tended to be either sad or angry.

“None of his friends were around, so he was forced to have a day to himself, too,” she said.

“Maybe that was a good thing,” I said. “You could both see how you were alone and—”

“I’m not sure he was alone,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I think he cheated on me.”

Sage made a low sound from her throat, and Trenton shot her a warning glare. She clapped her hands over her mouth and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

“Do you have any proof?” I asked. Why had Sage reacted that way? Just because she was upset that her best friend might have been cheated? Or because it struck a nerve closer to home?

I couldn’t help myself. I glowered at Trenton. Had he ever cheated on her? Sage hadn’t always told me the reason for their many break ups. I had assumed they would just get into fights, but maybe cheating had been involved.

Jerk.

Trenton leveled me a cool glare back.

“I…I found…” Corinne sniffed.

“What did you find?” I asked gently. Forget trying to send a message. Corinne was hurting. Even though I was tied up and kidnapped, I might still be able to help her.

“A condom,” she wailed.

I hesitated. While I didn’t want details, I kinda had to have them. “How do you know it wasn’t for you?”

“Because it’s the kind with spermicide. I can’t use that kind. Allergic to it. Why would he have that kind of condom unless he was cheating on me?”

“Might it have been from a previous relationship?”

There was a slight pause. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Corinne. You’ve…” I trailed off. Mentioning all the guys she’d been with over the years might not be the best way to go about making her feel better.

“The condom was in his top dresser drawer. It hadn’t been there before.”

“Does he have a roommate?” I suggested. I couldn’t remember. One thing I did have to give Corinne credit for was that she didn’t move in with all the guys she dated. She kept her own apartment. She might not actually spend a lot of time there, but if she needed to, she did have a place she could go to.

“No.” She sighed. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but shouldn’t you be telling me to dump his rear?”

“I think you should talk to him. Ask him about the condom. Don’t confront him about it. See what he has to say about it. Then decide if you believe him or not and figure out what you wanna do after that.”

There was another slight pause. Trenton was tapping his foot. He gestured with his hand holding the gun for me to wrap it up.

“I can’t just ask him—”

“Why not?” I demanded. “A relationship is about trust. You need to trust him—to tell you the truth, to not be cheating on you. A relationship is also about communication. You have to talk to him. Don’t you want to know the truth?”

“Maybe it’s better not to know.” She sounded torn.

“No,” I said firmly. “Being in the dark isn’t ever good enough. You can’t have a real relationship if one side is keeping secrets. I get that you’re scared, that you don’t want to learn that he’s cheating on you, but—”

“So you think he is cheating on me.” She blew out air. “Dang it. Where is Sage? I wanna talk to her. We need to go out and get drunk and—”

“You wanna go out, go out.” I avoided looking at Trenton, but I could still feel his irritation and anxiety rolling off him in waves. He was getting worried. Afraid I’d slip up. I wasn’t gonna slip up, but I might try to plant some seeds into Corinne’s head. “I know you think I’m all dried up, that I don’t need sex like you do,” I started, “but that’s not true. I’ve been having some lately, and—”

“You have?” Corinne perked up for the first time since we started talking.

“Yes. And it’s actually with a friend of Trenton’s. The guy in charge of the—”

Trenton shoved the gun’s barrel into the middle of my forehead.

I gulped. “Anyhow, we’re not just. We’re not just having sex. We’re making love. And there’s a difference.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know—”

“Do you?” I pressed. “Because sometimes it can be confusing. Find someone who loves you and that you love back. Find someone to make love with. Find someone you can talk to without fear about any topic. Find someone you can do more than just spend time underneath the sheets with.”

Corinne hmmed. “And you think I need to find myself first before I can find someone like that.”

“I’m not saying you have to find someone new. For all we know, that condom means nothing. Or maybe it does. Maybe Jack isn’t the guy for you. You deserve a fairytale, Corinne. You deserve happiness. Don’t settle.”

I sure hoped Sage was listening despite being in the bathroom. She needed to hear this, too.

“Good advice. Sage’s been right.”

“About?” I felt shocked, and Trenton looked shocked himself.

“You needing to get laid. You’re actually giving really good advice. Huh. So you’re getting some. What’s his name again?”

I can’t risk it, and Trenton’s lifting the gun so it’s level with my forehead. “I gotta go,” I said in a rush. “My guy’s gonna be coming along soon, and—”

“Say no more! Thanks, Sage’s mom!”

Trenton disconnected the call. “Why the heck did you—”

“I didn’t mention his name,” I said calmly, doing my best to ignore the cool metal pressed against my forehead. “And it’s not like his name would cause an issue anyhow. Corinne’s not gonna do any digging.”

Actually, I was kinda hoping Corinne would be nosy. That she’d find out Grant. That she might try to find him and ask for details. Because if she can hunt him down, at least Grant would know I’m all right. It was a stretch, but my options were so limited right now that I would take what I could get.

Trenton cocked back his arm. Was he gonna hit me with the gun again? Better that than him firing it.

“Trenton,” Sage called from the bathroom. Her voice sounded a little shaky.

Uh oh. My stomach twisted nervously. She wasn’t gonna start deviating from the plan, was she? For the most part, it was going well.

“What is it, babe?” Trenton called, his arm upraised yet.

“Can’t I go and see Corinne?” she pleaded. She walked out of the bathroom, and Trenton immediately lowered his arm, but he didn’t out the gun away. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was red. She held a wad of toilet paper to her nose. “She needs me. Jack is—”

“A jerk. I hated that guy from the start. Tried to tell you both. If you would’ve listened to me, none of this would’ve happened.” Trenton scowled.

Sage took a deep breath. She was trembling. Uh oh. I had a bad feeling about this. Really bad. Sage, you don’t wanna provoke him. Not when he has his gun out. I tried to catch her gaze, but she was staring at the worn carpet.

“You’re right. She should’ve taken your thoughts into account,” Sage started.

I winced. Yeah, because every girl cared about what her best friend’s guy thought. Somehow, I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Maybe,” I said, but before I could say more, Sage cut me off.

“I know you never cheated on me,” she continued, and I felt marginally better, “and I never cheated on you, but Corinne…She’s been through so much. Let me go and—”

“You aren’t leaving,” Trenton said coldly. A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he was tapping his gun against his thigh, like he wanted to remind us that he had it.

“Corinne will be fine,” I said.

I stared at Sage, trying to give her some of my strength. She just needed to hold out a little longer. Just a little longer. Grant had to be coming. He had to be. Traffic must’ve held him up, but he would make it through soon.

I hoped. I prayed.

“So will we,” I continued. “We’ll all be fine. We’ll walk away and—”

“And what?” Trenton snapped. “Go back to our happy lives? Don’t you see?” he hissed. “Nothing will be like it was.”

My gaze shifted to the gun. “No it won’t,” I said a little coolly. Dang. Even I was losing my composure. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t all survive this.” Idiot. My voice cracked a little. If I couldn’t remain strong, how could I expect Sage to be?

“Baby,” Sage said, coming over to Trenton and holding onto his arm.

Good. She needed to calm him down. His face was red, and if he were a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of his ears. She had worked magic on him earlier. She could do it again.

He jerked away from her. “Don’t touch me,” he growled.

“Two hours,” she begged. “That’s all I need.”

Oh, Sage. Stop. He won’t let you go. Stop asking for it. He’s just gonna get more pissed off!

“No.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands on his head, the gun pointing toward the wall. As long as he had that out, I couldn’t breathe right.

“Then the phone,” Sage pleaded. “Let me call her and—”

“No!” Trenton jerked to his feet so suddenly, so swiftly, Sage stumbled backward.

“Why not?” Sage caught herself, straightened, and narrowed her eyes. Her tears had dried up, and now she was pissed.

Idiot. Fighting fire with fire wasn’t going to go over well at all.

“You let her talk to Corinne.” She gestured violently toward me. “Why can’t I?”

“Just do what I say, and it’ll all work out,” Trenton growled, his voice low and menacing.

“Work out? You’ll pay off the drug lord and then what? You’d have to skip town, get a new place, find a job…What do you wanna bet that there won’t be any jobs? Then what? Gonna go back to selling drugs?” Savanah was fuming mad.

I had to try to stop this. “I’m sure he’ll be able to find a job doing…”

But they both ignored me, not that I could think up of a job.

“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

“What do I mean? Come on, Trenton! You can’t expect—”

“A mechanic!” I shouted. “Trenton, you could be a mechanic. Just think about the amount of money you could charge per hour! It would be perfect! You like motorcycles, right? You have to be handy with them.”

He didn’t even glance my way. The look on his face as he stalked toward Sage left me terrified. “What do you mean I’ll have to skip town?” he asked, his voice terribly cold.

I tried to jerk my wrists, twisting and yanking, trying to loosen the impossibly tight restraints, but I was bound too tightly. I couldn’t get free.

Sage backed up. “You…You don’t listen to me,” she said, her voice quivering.

He advanced more. “You don’t listen to me half the time.”

She bumped into the TV as she kept backing up. “You don’t care about my friends.”

“You never cared for mine.” He narrowed the distance between them.

By now, Sage was as far away from him as she could get, trapped in a corner.

He stood in front of her, arms up, pining her there in place. “You aren’t planning on leaving me, are you?”

There was a raw edge of pain in his voice. Despite his loudness, despite his threats, despite his anger, he cared, almost too much. He had made Sage his whole world, pinned all of his faith and trust in her. Too bad he didn’t know how to treat her right so that she’s stay by his side.

“Trenton,” she said desperately.

I had to say something, anything to get them to stop. “I have to pee!” I shouted even though that tactic hadn’t worked earlier.

Neither looked at me.

“Well?” Trenton demanded.

“I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” His grip on the gun tightened. It wasn’t pointed at her, but how long would that remain the case?

“Fire!” I shrieked, desperate enough to try screaming again. “Help! Someone call the police! We’re being—”

Something hard slammed against my head. For a second, my vision darkened to total blackness, but then I blinked and lifted my head.

Trenton was staring down at me. “You pull that trash again, and I swear I’ll kill you.”

My head was pounding, and my ears were ringing. I knew I mouthed the word, “Fire,” but whether or not I actually said it, I didn’t know.

He brought up his arm again.

Sage grabbed his arm and pulled back. “Don’t you hit her!” she shrieked. “You stupid idiot. Don’t you see you ruined everything? I thought I loved you. I wanted to live with you, to marry you, to have our lives be one. I didn’t need money. I needed you! But you had to go and get sucked back up into the darkness. You had to go and phoo all up.” She took a deep breath, and I thought she was going to burst into tears, but she just narrowed her eyes and slammed her fists onto his chest. “You—”

He grabbed both of her wrists with one hand. “‘Loved,’ huh? You mean to tell me you don’t love me anymore?”

Her eyes went wide, and she twisted around to look at me.

Tell him you love him still, I tried to tell her with my eyes.

“I…” She hesitated.

“Don’t look at her!” Trenton shook Sage.

She shrieked. “You’re hurting me!”

“Do you love me?” Trenton demanded.

“Do you love me?” Sage countered.

Good. That might work.

“Or do you love your drugs or money more?” she continued.

Idiot.

Trenton went to strike her.

I lunged forward, and the chair tipped over, clattering to the ground with me still tied to it.

Trenton, cursing under his breath, put me back upright. He kept his face inches from mine. “You did this. You twisted her against me.”

A sudden wave of lethargy washed over me. “No,” I said, my speech slurring slightly. “You did that yourself.”

Sage was back to crying again, like she had when I first came. Had he broken her? Dang it. This wasn’t good. What the heck could I do to get us out of this mess?

“Trenton,” I said desperately.

“Shut up,” he directed toward Sage. He turned back to me. “That goes for you, too.”

I glowered at him. Who the heck did he think he was? The sympathy I might’ve felt for him was swiftly disappearing. At some point, you had to stop using your upbringing as an excuse and start taking responsibility for your actions. And his actions weren’t of a man in love. More like a man who desperately wanted some measure of control. “Trenton, you have one last chance,” I said. “Let us go. I’ll give you some money. You can create an alias and start over fresh, away from the drugs and all of that garbage. Or you can wait for Grant to come. Because you know he’s coming. And it won’t be with the money.”

“You think Grant’s gonna save you, honey?” He laughed long and loud and obnoxiously. “Grant doesn’t care about anyone.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t believe what he was saying. I couldn’t. Grant did care—about me, about Trenton even.

“If you thought he doesn’t care about me,” I said slowly.

He started to nod. “Then why the whole ransom bit? Just in case. I’m running out of options, and that makes me desperate.” The guy actually stroked his gun, petting it.

I swallowed hard. He had crossed the line into madness. Whether or not it was drug-induced or full blown, I didn’t know and it didn’t matter.

Think, Victoria! How can you calm him down?

Talking about the past was out. That would only get him to remember bad memories. Talking about the future was out, too. Money issues would only cause him more stress. What about right now?

Thinking about Corinne made me think about the beach, and I blurted out, “What about a destination wedding?”

Sage burst into a fresh round of tears, and I did my best not to grimace. Yeah, dangling her before him might not be for the best, but Trenton wasn’t the only one running out of options.

“You could pick an island. Get married on the beach. Start a new life. Trenton, you don’t have to do this!”

He kneeled down in front of me. “Oh, but, Victoria, here’s the thing: I already am. And aren’t parents supposed to encourage kids to see things through until the bitter end?”

“The end doesn’t have to be bitter,” I said softly.

Trenton glowered at Sage over his shoulder. “It already is.”

Idiot. If he thought things between him and Sage were really over, it would only make him that much more desperate, that much more unpredictable.

“Yes, it is,” Sage said. She continued to cry, but she seemed angrier now. “How can you expect me to want to be with you when you would tie up my mom? Threaten us with a gun?”

“I was doing this all for you! Can’t you see that?” he asked, almost pleading, although his tone was getting edgier and angrier, too.

“I think—” I started, but neither of them were paying me any attention.

“You’ve always been so demanding,” Sage said.

“Me? What about you? You always wanted me to buy you trash like that stupid dress that made your rear look huge.”

“There’s no need for—”

Again, they ignored me.

“Maybe if you had been truthful about how the dress looked on me—” Sage started.

“It’s not about the dress!” he shouted.

“Dang straight it’s not. It’s about how you couldn’t be completely truthful ever. I liked you right from the start because you were mysterious, you were a bad rear, and you had charm. But you took forever to open up to me to shed the mystery, you could be just a plain rear, and you were charming only when you wanted to be.”

“I opened up to you,” he protested, his voice not quite so loud this time.

Sage was breathing heavily, but she also seemed to be calming down a little. “Yes, but even that was like getting you to pull teeth. You only give me little bits here and there, and honestly, Trenton, I’m still not sure I have the whole story.”

“You do,” he said, but he lowered his head, no longer looking at her. At least he put his gun away—that made me breathe easier, although I still didn’t have a good feeling about things.

“You know my whole story.” Sage sniffled some.

“I do.” Trenton nodded. He reached toward her, but then he lowered his hand. Good. He better not touch her.

Because Sage slid me a glance. She was back to acting again, I could tell, but if he touched her, that spell she was weaving might crumble. How in the world had she gotten so strong?

“So how could you have done this?” Sage asked quietly. “How could you have turned to drugs when you know my mom did that? She picked drugs over me, Trenton.” Her voice was low, but intense.

“I didn’t—”

“You did. You’re using again. Trenton! You said the last time would be the last, and I believed you!”

What the heck? Sage knew he’d used drugs recently? Why hadn’t she told me? Why hadn’t I been a better mom that she would come to me with that kind of info?

“I was clean for—”

“What, five months? Trenton, we’ve been together how long? Why—”

“You’ve never done drugs,” he said, snarling. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“And I don’t want to know! I’ve never wanted to know! Drugs ruined my mom’s life. She’s in jail because of it, and I’m glad!”

“Is that what you want for me? Is it? Huh?” He stalked toward her.

Sage didn’t back down. “I think you need help.”

“Help?” He moved so quickly Sage didn’t have time to react—he backhanded her.

She gasped, and her hand went to her cheek.

“Don’t you dare hit her!” I yelped.

The gun came back out, and, eyes wild, he stared me down. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do!”

“Trenton!” Sage shrieked. She didn’t back away yet, and she visibly tried to gather her bearings. “Sometimes…Sometimes you have to let someone g-go…”

He said nothing, his gaze shifting back and forth between us, the gun somewhat gestured in my direction.

Better me than Sage.

“Sometimes you have to let someone go when you love them,” she said, her voice trembling.

“That’s trash,” Trenton said. “You never loved me, did you?”

“Of course I did!” Tears streamed down Sage’s face, but silently. She wasn’t sobbing.

“You never cared about me. You’re all the same. No one…” Trenton shook his head, crossed over to me, and pressed the gun to the middle of my forehead.

“Do it,” I taunted him. “Do it and you’ll never be with Sage again.”

He pressed harder, and I did my best not to wince. Heck, did that hurt! “I’ll do it. I’ll off you. Off her. Off myself. We can be together,” he breathed. “You and me, baby. Together forever.”

“In life, Trenton,” Sage said, sounding the scariest she had yet. “In life, Trenton, not death!”

“What kind of life will we have, Sage? Tell me that. I’ve messed it up. I’ve messed it all up. I know that.” His hand was shaking, but the gun was always facing me. “We can’t have a life together.”

“You…You don’t know that…” Sage dashed forward and yanked on his arm.

“If Grant comes with the money,” I said.

“I don’t think he will.”

“Why not? You’re a part of Devil’s Horns, right? You’re a part of his family. He would never hurt—”

“He cares about you,” Trenton interrupted me. “You’re his family now. And I crossed the line. I know I did, and I did it anyway. I’m screwed. Either Grant will come for me or the drug lord will, and I’m gonna end up dead either way. I’m a dead man.”

He turned toward Sage, but I could still see his face. There was love there and fear—so much fear.

“We don’t all have to die,” Sage whispered.

Just like that, the love in his eyes died.

Desperation rolled over me, and my stomach was so twisted and knotted that I thought I was going to throw up. “Grant doesn’t think of me as family,” I argued. “We harassed a few times, yeah, but that’s it. We’re nothing serious.”

Trenton wasn’t even looking at me. “You would rather live without me than with me.”

“Because of the stunts you pulled lately, well, yeah! I know people make mistakes, Trenton, but this…” Sage started to sniff. Back to the angry crying. “This is trash, Trenton! Let me and my mom go!”

“I can’t. I can’t. You…Sage, I know I screwed up—”

“Shut it, Trenton. This isn’t something you can fix with words or money or sex. We’re…”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he growled.

“We’re done!” she shouted.

Trenton lunged toward Sage. She darted to the left, but he grabbed ahold of her hair and yanked her backward. Idiot. He still had the gun!

I jerked and twisted and jerked some more, and my chair moved slightly toward them. Sage was clawing at Trenton’s face and arms, and he yelped and threw her away from him and onto the floor. He didn’t point the gun at her, though. It was pointed back to me.

Sage’s eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” His eyes were wild. “I have nothing to live for if I don’t have you. There’s no going back now.”

“There…” Tears streamed down her face, and I could barely make out what she was saying. “There won’t be if you kill my mom. If you ever want a chance for us…If I ever meant anything to you…”

Trenton’s hand began to shake. “I can’t handle this,” he muttered. Sweat appeared on his forehead, and he was shivering. “Sage…” He had pinned all of his hopes and dreams and happiness on her, but she hadn’t been enough for him. He was too damaged. No girl would’ve been enough. That was the thing. One person can’t equal your happiness. You had to create happiness within yourself and without, too. You needed someone to balance you out, someone who challenged you, someone who opened your eyes to new horizons. You needed someone who made you a better person.

Trenton sure didn’t do that for Sage considering how many fights she and I would get into after she spent some time with him. Trenton had no respect for authority, not after the stunts his parents pulled. Grant had tried to straighten him out, and Sage had done some, obviously. I never would’ve thought Trenton would have talked to me like he did earlier. Then again, those other sides of him, like when he hit me with the gun, that was the jerk who needed to get the heck out of our lives pronto.

These thoughts flew through my head in seconds. Sage lunged forward toward Trenton.

Trenton jerked away.

I tried to move my chair more, but it was caught.

The gun when off.

Sage screamed.

I did, too.

Chapter 21

Grant

The miles trickled by, far slower than I would’ve liked. Why couldn’t we be there already? While I hoped Trenton wasn’t doing anything stupid, I was growing sick with worry.

Dang traffic. There was an accident, and we were at a crawl. It had been more than four hours now since Trenton had called, and I couldn’t handle it. We had to get the heck out of this traffic, and we had to do it the heck right now.

“Drive along the shoulder.”

“There’s a cop not far back,” Bob protested.

“So?”

“We can’t afford to be pulled over.”

“So don’t pull over.”

Bob glanced over at me, raised his eyebrows, and gave me a heck of a devilish grin. He would have to find a way to merge over to reach the shoulder, but it would be worth it.

While he worked on that, I checked my gun over. Everything appeared in working order. The heck was Trenton thinking, pulling this trash. Obviously the punk wasn’t thinking.

A part of me absolutely hated that we were doing this—that we were readying to take up arms against one of our own. But, honestly, a lot of the guys had always viewed Trenton as more of a comrade than as a full-fledged member. Some of that was because of his age, but some of it was also because of the stunts he pulled. Trenton had always been a little immature, and he didn’t understand that you couldn’t just take, take, take. Everything should be give and take, and the ones who abused others were not tolerated for long, not in my world.

Victoria was a taker, too, but there was a difference. She took and built on it and made something of herself. She didn’t step on others to do it. Her restaurant was a testament to what a working woman could accomplish.

And in the bedroom—there she was give and take. Dang, could she give and take. The things we did to each other was amazing, and the things I wanted to do to her yet…

But more than just sex, I wanted to take Victoria away from all of this perdition. Sweep her off her feet. Maybe go on a long vacation. A cruise somewhere. Just the two of us. Hell if she wanted to bring Sage along, too, that would be fine with me.

And then once we came back, then what? I wanted to go to her restaurant. I wanted to talk with her all hours of the night. I wanted to spend time with her horizontal. I wanted it all.

And I wanted it now.

I had never been this obsessed with a woman before, and in such a short amount of time, too. Would we have staying power as a couple? I didn’t know. I sure hoped we did, but only time would tell.

And if we didn’t get the heck to that motel soon, there might not be enough time for us to find out.

“Bob! Do you need me to—”

“Sit back,” Bob snapped. “If I can’t see, I sure can’t merge. Come on, jerk.”

I glowered at him. “Who you callin’ a jerk?”

Bob honked and then jerked the wheel. “That dipshit I just cut in front of.” He glanced in his rearview mirror. “You really want me to?”

“Yes!” I growled.

He nodded. “Looks like the cop’s pointed the other way. Hold on. We’re gonna fly!”

The tires squealed, and we peeled out, flying down the thin shoulder. A few cars honked, and I saw a lot of mouths flapping and middle fingers flashing, but I didn’t care.

We took the next exit, and we had to figure out a new route, but at least we were moving again. And even better, that cop didn’t tail us. We were in the clear!

But who knew if our luck would hold.

Especially since the other van hadn’t gotten over when we had.

“Bob, pull over,” I dictated. We would wait for a few minutes, and if the other van didn’t appear by then, we would just continue on without them. I wasn’t gonna wait forever.

Serious honking sounded behind us. The van flew up, and Bob gunned it, and we were back to caravanning it. Good. Although I didn’t want it to come down to a shootout, I felt much better having both numbers of men and guns on my side.

Especially because… oh, idiot…what if we weren’t the first ones to reach Trenton? Yeah, I had talked to that stupid, pompous drug lord, and threatened him even, but what if he decided he didn’t want to wait to collect his money? If I could track down Trenton, and especially since my main lead had been from regulars at the idiot’s bar, then he could track down Trenton, too, and once you had the town, it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out where exactly Trenton was staying…

Trenton really was a dipincredible. Maybe I had failed him, but at some point, he had to be held accountable for his actions, and his actions had led him to this point, where his own friends, his own family, had turned against him.

He had no one.

And when he realized he was truly alone—because I had to believe Sage saw the light by now, I mean, come on, Trenton was holding her mother for ransom!—he’d be incredibly desperate.

Caged animals tended to attack, even if they knew they couldn’t win.

And there was no way Trenton was gonna win.

“How much farther?” I all but growled.

“Ten minutes, give or take.”

“Make it five,” I ordered.

Bob flashed me a quick grin and floored it. I checked my side mirror. The other van was keeping close to our tail. Good. Power in numbers. Power in gunfire.

But I sure hoped and prayed that we wouldn’t have to fire a single shot. What if one of us missed and hit Victoria or Sage? And, despite everything, I didn’t want to shoot Trenton either. Messed up kid might not be able to turn his life around. I’d tried. Maybe jail could straight him out. Or maybe he just needed a final out. I didn’t want to be the one to end his life, but if it came down to him or one of the women, it killed me to say it, but I would pick the women.

Never ever did I think I would ever think such a thing. My men were my family, and I would bend over backward for them. I would give them the shirt off my back, given the housing, pay their rent if they were between jobs…anything and everything. What was mine was theirs.

For so many years, I had taken that adage “bros before hoes” to heart. Maybe that was why I had so many one-night stands and short relationships. Maybe I hadn’t met the right woman yet. I mean, I cared for Victoria despite us not knowing her for a long time. I could easily see myself falling in love with her. I desperately wanted to give us a chance at something huge. We might work, we might not, but I wanted that chance. Trenton would not take that away from us.

And I had a feeling Victoria wouldn’t turn into one of those clingy women who would want me to ditch the Devil’s Horns. That would be the only deal breaker for me. I would not turn my back on my men, on my family.

One might argue that that was exactly what I was doing with Trenton, but that wasn’t the case. If anything, he had turned his back on us. He’d chosen drugs over us. He’d chosen to not ask for help.

My stomach twisted. I should’ve realized he needed help, though. How had I missed the signs? There had been one other time that I’d noticed that he seemed to be slipping into bad habits. He’d just lost his part time job, and he might’ve been on a break from Sage or another girl at the time. I’d caught him lying, and he hadn’t been at events he’d said he would go to, and I’d pulled him aside and asked him if he needed anything.

“Nothing,” he had said without looking at me.

“Nothing, huh?” I poured some whiskey from my personal stash and handed it to him. This had been a few months after he turned twenty-one. In two months, he’d be twenty-three.

He’d stared at it and then gulped it down, draining all of the amber liquid.

I had shaken my head. “Whiskey is meant to be savored.”

He’d eyed the bottle, and I poured him more but then held the glass away.

“Can you handle this?” I had asked him.

“Yeah.”

I lowered the glass onto the table but didn’t slid it over to him. “Can you handle whatever it is that makes you want to drink?”

Trenton drummed his fingers onto the table. Then he reached over and clutched the glass, taking it out of my hands, but he didn’t drink it. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You know you can always come to me, right?”

“I hate living with Steven. He snores. He never cleans up after himself and makes me wash his dishes. His taste in music is terrible—”

“What’s wrong with ‘80s music?” I demanded with a smile.

Turned rolled his eyes.

“If you want to move in with me,” I started to offer.

He shook his head. “I don’t wanna live with you or one of the other Devil’s Horns guys.”

“So find your own place,” I suggested.

“I need a job first,” he muttered.

So I had helped him with résumés and helped him go job hunting, and he found a new job, and he started to laugh and smile more. He had seemed happy. He seemed to be doing well. Or maybe I just hadn’t seen the signs, or he got better at hiding them. Maybe he hadn’t started using and only sold the drugs. That would’ve made it easier for me to be duped. Considering how much he’d hated his father for using drugs and his attempts to stay clean, I never would’ve thought Trenton would be the kind to sell drugs, to get others hooked on it.

I was disappointed, but who was I more disappointed in—him or me? I wasn’t sure.

The tires squealed, and the van jerked to a halt. “We’re here,” Bob said unnecessarily.

The other van was still parking as I jumped out. With little patience, I waited for everyone to get out. Moonshine Motel. We were parked around back. Good. Hopefully Trenton hadn’t seen us pull up.

The place was a dump. A place a rat would hide in and grow to be the size of a tiger. There were probably roaches and other bugs. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.

You wanted a place of your own, Trenton, but I didn’t think you would want a place like this.

Dang it. He hadn’t wanted me as a father figure, and I never laid out any demands on him, but maybe I should’ve insisted he moved in with me. It would’ve cramped my style, but I had offered him to crash at my place. I hadn’t forced him to. He could make his own decision. He wasn’t a kid.

The guys hovered around me, and I held up a finger. “Listen to me,” I said quietly. “We’re gonna surround the room, but first, we have to figure out which room they’re in.”

I pulled out my cell and was about to call Hank, when the guy strolled over to us. He’d been waiting for us to arrive.

“Have you seen signs of any of them? Trenton or Victoria or Sage?”

“I saw Trenton. He came out a few times. He was on the phone, and he also left to get them some food.”

So at least he wasn’t starving the women. Small favor?

“What room number?” I demanded. Time to get this done and over with.

Hank pointed. “Right over…What the heck?”

I jerked around in the direction he was pointing. A young woman was racing out of an apartment.

If it wasn’t Sage.

Chapter 22

Grant

She didn’t get very far before Trenton burst out of the motel room. He raced after Sage, and I sprang into action. I shoved the other guys out of the way and dashed over to them.

“Leave her alone, Trenton,” I warned as I approached.

Trenton didn’t even look at me. He just went to grab Sage.

Nope. Not on my watch.

My fist cocked back, and I punched Trenton square in the jaw. He had some size to him, but I was stronger, taller. This wasn’t a fight he could win.

He did land two swift punches to my stomach, and I wheezed out a grunt. I motioned for the other guys to hang back, and I noticed Victoria hadn’t come out of the motel room. I swore if he hurt her…

If he killed her…

We traded a few more punches, and his knee ended up in my gut. Dang. My next punch went over his head, and he grabbed me around my waist, trying to knock me down. I returned the knee to the gut, grabbed one of his arms, and yanked it up and out, to the side, at an awkward angle. Trenton groaned, muttering a curse, and he backed off, jerking his arm free.

He circled me warily. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, his face looked a little too thin, and his gaze kept darting everywhere, like he was afraid of shadows.

“You’re really doing this?” he asked between gulps of air.

“You’re the one doing this,” I retorted.

Trenton shook his head. “I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice. There are always options. There—”

“There weren’t,” he said flatly, feigning a punch.

I jerked away and then circled back. “You could’ve come to me.”

“You and your self-righteous trash.” Trenton’s grin made my skin crawl. “You think you can walk the line, that you can do whatever you want. Sleep with whoever you want. Screw over anyone who looks at you wrong. You’re a jerk.”

I kept silent. Trenton could say what he wanted, but I knew the kind of man I was. Maybe I was a little selfish and self-centered at times, but I would give my all for my men, and at one time, Trenton had been included in that. Not anymore, and that was on him, not me.

He lunged for my legs, and I tumbled to the ground with Trenton on top of me. He was fighting like he was a wild man. Like he was possessed. Like he had nothing to live for.

“Vic…” I managed to get out as I batted his hands away. He was trying to go for my neck to suffocate me No way would my guys allow that, but I didn’t call them over. I could handle this.

Trenton’s sick grin grew even more. “I killed her,” he said.

What? No!

Blind fury gave me strength, and I threw him off of me. I stood up and stared down at him as he scrambled to his feet. He was laughing until I stalked toward him.

With shaking hands, he pulled out his gun, but I was quicker on the draw and a faster shot.

Accurate, too.

A long wail burst out of him as he crumbled to the ground. I had shot him in the leg. I hadn’t wanted to shoot him, not during the ride over, but now that he had killed Victoria…well…I was willing to shoot him.

Still wasn’t willing to kill him, though. I just couldn’t do it.

I walked over to where Trenton was rolling around in agony. Tears streamed down his face, and he was bawling. I had to admit, I felt badly for shooting him. If he hadn’t pulled out the gun, if he hadn’t shot Victoria, if he hadn’t pulled any of this trash…

Trenton grabbed his left leg, still crying hard. Through it all, he stared at me. “Kill me,” he said.

What?

“Kill me,” he repeated. “I have nothing to live for.”

I glanced over at Sage. She was standing off to the side, a little bit away from the guys, watching us. She was crying herself.

“Sage…” Trenton reached out toward her with an outstretched bloody hand.

She turned away from him without saying a word.

“She left me. She’s leaving me.” Trenton never stopped crying.

It was hard to see him like this. He was so utterly broken. Between the drugs, the money, and losing Sage, he was just broken. The saddest part of all was that it hadn’t had to come to this.

“Just kill me!” Trenton screamed.

“You don’t deserve death,” I said coldly, staring down at him.

How could he? How could Trenton have killed Victoria? All she had wanted to do was save her daughter, to bring her home.

Victoria was a kind and good person. She was a bright and cheery woman. She was a heck of a businesswoman, a go getter. She was the kind of person who got what she wanted out of life.

And now her life had been cut tragically short. We wouldn’t have that time I wanted to see if we could work out long term.

Because, here was the thing, I already suspected we could work out long term.

I had fallen for her. Hard. Despite the whole mess with Trenton and Sage. Despite not knowing her for long. Despite my never being in love before. In lust? So many times I lost count, but in love? Never. Not until now. Not until Victoria.

“Sage,” Trenton whimpered.

She completely turned away from him. Good. I might’ve failed Trenton, but I would help the girl out. Get her a place. Buy her food, clothes. Whatever she needed. She was family now. No way would I let Victoria’s daughter fall through the cracks. Her boyfriend had held her hostage. She might need to see a psychiatrist after all this trash, especially after seeing her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—shoot her mom.

“There’s no point to living,” Trenton wailed. “Just kill me.”

“Boys,” I commanded, “deal with him.”

Sage peeked over her shoulder, and I nodded at her. I held up one finger, hoping she would wait, and I had to do it. I had to go inside the motel room. I had to see…her.

It took me a moment to collect myself, to take few deep breaths, for me to be able to walk inside.

Victoria was on the floor, tied to a chair, facing away from me. There were marks on her wrist near the binding. She had put up a fight. Of course she had.

Steeling my nerve, I walked around to face her, and then I almost began to cry myself.

Trenton had lied. He hadn’t shot Victoria.

She lifted her head. “Grant?” she whispered. She blinked a few times.

“I’m here. I’m here, babe.” I picked her and the chair up and set about untying her.

“Sage?” she asked as I freed one hand.

“She’s safe.”

“And Trenton?”

I paused in the middle of untying her other hand. That she cared about the kid still said so much about her. Her heart had no limits.

“He’s being taken care of.” I freed her hand.

Before I could untie her legs, Victoria leaned forward and embraced me. I stroked her back.

“It’s all right,” I murmured in her ear. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Victoria pulled back and stared up at me through teary eyes. “I love you, Grant.”

My heart swelled, and I hugged her so tightly she squealed. When I pulled away, I kissed her thoroughly. Again and again. The moment I had to come up for air, I pressed my forehead to hers and looked down at her. “I love you, too.”

Tears streamed down her face, and I kissed them away. I hated that she had gone through this horrible ordeal, but I would be darned before I’d let this affect her long-term. I was going to replace this with so many happy memories that she’d never have to think about this ever again.

“I love you,” she repeated breathlessly.

“Love you back.” I grinned. “I’ve never told a woman that before, and I intend to say it to you all the time.”

Her eyes widened, and she laughed. Then she glanced around. “Can we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

It took me no time to be able to untie her legs, and she tumbled into my arms. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t grow hard, and I wanted nothing more than to make a new memory right here, right now, but I could hear the guys talking Trenton down. It sounded to me that Trenton had stopped asking to be killed, though. Good.

With ease, I picked Victoria up. She laughed and slapped my shoulder. “I can walk!”

“I know.” I nestled her to my chest. “But is it so wrong that I want to be your knight?”

“You’re more than just a knight.” She rubbed my chest.

“Oh, yeah? What am I then?”

She stared up at me, and I was blown away by the love shining in her eyes. “You’re mine.”

Sage rushed over, hugging her mom, and it was kinda awkward until I was able to stand Victoria up. The two were crying and embracing, and I just stood there, next to them. It wasn’t awkward, and I didn’t feel like I had no right to be there.

After a long moment, Sage stared at me, one hand on her hip, the other hand still hugging her mom. “So you’re Grant, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Trenton. The guys had bandaged him up, and I heard Hank say it was a clean shot, that the bullet had gone straight through. I had a doctor friend who could look him over so there wouldn’t be any paperwork or questions asked concerning the gunshot. Yeah, I might sometimes be a snitch to the police, but I didn’t want them asking any questions about my shooting Trenton. If they found him in conjunction to the drugs, that was one thing, but I wasn’t gonna broadcast to the police about the kidnapping and ransom attempt or press charges or anything like that.

Unless Victoria and Sage wanted to.

Sage cleared her throat. “Not all of it was good,” she added.

I turned back to face her and gave her a slight grin. “I’m a good guy once you get to know me.”

She crossed her arms. “I heard you’re a take ‘em, leave ‘em kind of guy.”

I shifted my gaze to Victoria. “I’m a one-woman man. Just took finding the right one.”

Victoria’s grin was breathtaking.

Sage rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

I glanced around. “Someone might have called the cops. We can’t stick around here.” I grimaced. “I’ll clean up the blood—”

“Got it handled already,” Daryl called. Sure enough, he was scrubbing away. Most of the guys had loaded back up into the vans, and that included Trenton. He wasn’t saying anything. Maybe he’d passed out.

I turned back to the women. “If you want, we can call the police once we get back to my place…”

That I still didn’t hear sirens going off told me plenty about this neck of the neighborhood. Shots must be a regular occurrence.

Victoria grabbed Sage’s hand. “It’s up to you.”

“He tied you up and—” I brushed my hand on her cheek. I had been so relieved to find her alive and not dead that I didn’t see the bruising until now. “He hit you.”

“I’m fine,” Victoria insisted, holding my hand that still cupped her cheek. “What do you want to do, Sage?”

Her daughter slowly shook her head. “I wasted enough of my time and life with him. I’m done.”

Daryl just finished cleaning up and was loading the bucket and sponge into the van. Yeah, we came prepared.

“Ready to go?” I asked the women.

They nodded.

“Where are we going?” Sage asked.

“We’re going to Grant’s,” Victoria said.

I shook my head and grinned at them. “We’re going home.”

Chapter 23

Victoria

As soon as we got back to Grant’s, he insisted a doctor look us over. We were both fine, but despite our repeated attempts to tell him that, he wouldn’t hear of it. The doctor, a beautiful, tall woman who I was sure had slept with Grant at one point, gave us a clear bill of health.

“Just feed them,” she said as she draped her stethoscope around her neck. She had been all smiles when she walked in, joking around despite having just stitched up Trenton or whatever she had to do for him.

But Grant, without looking at me or needing me to say anything, made it immediately clear that we were a couple.

That we were together.

And, boy, did I like the sound of that.

The doctor left, and Sage rubbed her stomach. “I am starving.”

“How about we order some food in?” Grant suggested. “Any preference?”

“Not pizza!” Sage and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Grant shook his head. “You two could be sisters instead of mom and daughter.”

Sage shook her head right back at him. “Nope. I need my mom.”

Grant mumbled about finding take out menus and walked toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with Sage in the living room. She sat beside me on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

“No,” I said firmly. “If you really need to, we can talk about what happened tonight, but that’s it. We need to move on. We both made mistakes, and neither of us are to blame, and—”

“And we should probably get counseling, Mom. We went through a traumatic experience, and, yeah, we can rely on each other…” Her gaze shifted toward the kitchen. “…and you on Grant, but it’s probably smart.”

“You’re really serious in psychology, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I’m interested in it. I mean, I started to read up so I could help make Trenton better, and I failed him. Maybe if I had training and knew what to actually say and do, I could’ve actually helped him. I don’t think I ever did help him, not in all the time we were together.” She blew out a deep breath. “But I do still want to help. Not Trenton,” she rushed to add, “but someone else. Other people. Is that completely insane of me? I mean, I don’t even have my GED yet.”

“Honey.” I patted her hand. “All you have to do is take it one step at a time. That’s how I worked my way up to becoming a restaurant owner. You can do it, too. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Sage took a deep breath. “Mom, I really am—”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. People misjudge others. It’s not always easy to leave someone you spent so much time with, even if they abuse you. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.” I wrapped my arms around her.

She tucked her head on my shoulder like she did when she first started to open up to me after I first adopted her. “Maybe we should both stop apologizing. I mean, really, Mom, it’s not your fault at all! If you had tried to ground me or tried to keep me from seeing him, I would’ve been all the more determined to see him. It probably would’ve made things worse, and who knows? I might’ve run away with him, like we’d talked about from time to time.”

My eyes felt ready to bulge out of their sockets. “Come again? You talked about what?”

“We didn’t, so…” And Sage laughed.

I started to laugh, too, and then the laughter turned into tears for both of us, but I liked to think it was more therapeutic than anything.

Grant halted in the doorway, holding up takeout menus. He raised his eyebrows.

Sage’s tears slowed, and so did her breathing. She had fallen asleep. I shook my head at Grant, and he laid the menus down on the coffee table. He sat beside me and draped an arm across my shoulder, as if protecting both me and Sage.

It felt good. It felt right. It felt amazing.

And I fell asleep feeling content.

***

The next morning, I woke to the sound of sizzling bacon and smelled pancake batter heating up. Neither Grant nor Sage were on the couch with me. I stretched, rubbed my eyes, stood, and leisurely made my way to the kitchen.

Grant was manning the griddle on the counter and cooking bacon on the stovetop at the same time. Sage was sitting on a bar stool at the island, grilling him.

“So what makes you so sure that my mom is the one for you considering how many other women you’ve dated?”

I hung back, listening. Grant currently had his back to me, and so did Sage, so neither of them saw me yet. I couldn’t help smiling at how possessive Sage was being.

“What’s the saying? Sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince? Well, I had to kiss a lot of toads to find my queen.”

I covered my mouth to suppress my giggle.

But Sage wasn’t as impressed. “Queen is right. She’s not a princess, but you didn’t just kiss the toads.”

“Okay, I really don’t think this is appropriate—”

“I’m not a minor, and I’m not a virgin, so…” Even though she wasn’t facing me, I could still see her crossing her arms. “But, fine, we’ll get back to that. How do you know that you really want to be with her? Maybe it was just the whole crazy rush and excitement of having to look for me and then the thrill of the rescue. What if, in a few days or weeks, when the craziness settles and it’s back to everyday life, you decide you have nothing in common, that you don’t really fit together? That it was all just heat and fire and nothing is keeping the spark going?”

Grant laughed. “The spark is still burning.”

“For now,” she said hotly, “but in a few months? In a year? Five years? Are you sure you’ll still want to be with her?” Before he had a chance to respond, she added, “Trenton told me about you. He’s a lot of things, but he never once lied to me. Might’ve omitted a few, but…You harassed a lot of women. What makes you think you won’t wake up one day and regret that you’re tied down to one woman for the rest of your life? Because I know my mom. If you two are serious, she’s gonna want a ring one day, and she’s gonna marry you, and there’s no way she’ll get a divorce. If you cheat on her, she’ll kill you and go to jail for it. So…”

Grant half turned toward her, and I stepped back slightly so there was no way he could see me. Maybe I should just let them know I was here, but I really did want to hear his answer. Sage had a good point. Being in love was one thing, but I had to assume it would take work to make it last. What if he did get bored of me one day?

“I understand where you’re coming from,” he said quietly. “You want to protect your mom. So do I. I would never do anything to hurt her. And, yeah, I’m not denying that I went from woman to woman.” He turned back to the bacon and started to remove the strips one at a time, placing them onto a plate covered in paper towels to soak up the grease. “But I learned what I wanted and what I didn’t want from a woman. I don’t want someone fickle. I don’t want someone who will say anything she thinks I want to hear. I don’t want someone who is clingy or someone who won’t understand my commitment to the club.” He faced her completely. “You mom is an incredible woman. She loves you very much, and if she loves me half as much as she loves you, I’d be set for the rest of my life.”

That was it. I couldn’t stand here hiding any longer.

I entered the room, and Grant’s face just lit up. A huge cocky grin. Wide eyes. He was wearing a wife beater, and his arms looked especially huge today.

Sage sighed dreamily. “If only I could get a guy to look at me like that. I guess I approve, Mom.”

I walked over to her and ruffle her hair. “Thanks, kiddo.” I walked around the island and kissed Grant. Just a peck, really, since we were in front of Sage, but the look I gave him told him to just wait until we were alone.

“Breakfast. How sweet.” I grabbed the spatula and flipped some of the pancakes. I sniffed. “Do I smell cinnamon?”

“And apples,” Sage said.

“Her idea to add them. I hope they turn out.” Grant removed the last of the bacon and patted some of the grease off.

In no time, breakfast was ready, and we were sitting at the breakfast nook, eating and laughing. While I agreed that getting some counseling was probably a good idea, this was therapeutic in its own right.

We almost felt, well, like a family.

Chapter 24

Victoria

A few months had passed, and honestly, life was better than ever. Grant and I were still going strong. Sage’s fear that we didn’t know each other well enough, that the novelty would wear off once we settled back to our daily lives—a fear I shared, too, to be honest—proved unfounded. We made a great team, we made each other happy both in the bedroom and outside of it, and we were more in love with each other with every passing day.

The day we learned the verdict—that Trenton was going to jail for drug trafficking, and so was the drug lord who had threatened him—was a day full of celebration. Grant took Sage and I out to dinner that night at a super fancy place.

He grinned once the waiter left to fill our drink orders. “I’m here with the two most beautiful women in the room.”

Sage rolled her eyes. She loved teasing him every chance she got. “We’re only the most beautiful women in the room? Not in the whole world?”

“Well, I haven’t seen all of the women in the whole world, so if I had said that, you would’ve pointed out that fact, and you know it.” He loved teasing her right back.

We all burst out laughing.

“I haven’t been seeing you as much lately. Haven’t found a new guy, have you?” he asked her.

Sage shook her head. “Are you kidding me?” she just about shrieked.

A woman at a nearby table glanced over.

Sage blushed and lowered her voice. “I’ve sworn off bad boys, and since I haven’t met a good one yet, I’m comfortable staying single for a long, long time.”

“Speaking of being single, how’s Corinne doing?” I asked. We hadn’t talked much since Sage resurfaced in Corinne’s life, and to be honest, I missed our talks. Maybe I should give her a call. It couldn’t hurt any.

“She hasn’t been with a guy since Jack. I think he scarred her. She started to take an art class, and there’s one guy taking it who she won’t stop talking about, but I think she’s scared to take the plunge.”

“Corinne? Scared?” Grant shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

Corinne came over for dinner a few times in the past few months, and when she met Grant, she spent the entire time throwing me winks and nudging me. She approved. We had talked about life in general, not specifics.

“I know, right?” Sage shrugged. “Normally, if a guy caught her eye, she would have no problem being the one to ask him out without waiting around for him to do it, but she hasn’t.”

“Maybe she will.”

“I think someone got it into her head that she needs to be happy with who she is by herself before she should date a guy.” Sage grinned at me. “I wonder who put that idea there?”

I grinned back. “Someone very wise.”

The two of us laughed, and Grant had to chuckle, too.

She turned back to Grant. “On a more serious note, I haven’t been around lately because I’ve been so busy. Since I’m now a waitress, I’m trying to save up as much as I can. Any day now, I should be hearing back about whether or not I passed my GED. I’ve already done a lot of research on different schools, and I’ve narrowed down my choices. It won’t be easy, getting into a program. I know that. It won’t look good that I took a break from schooling, but I plan on being honest with my admission letters about my mom. About my moms.” She smiled brightly at me before her grin became more ironic. “Psychiatrists should eat that up, hopefully.”

“You can do anything you want,” I assured her, reaching over to pat her hand.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re my mom. You have to say that.”

“True,” I conceded, “I have to say it, but I also believe it.”

Counseling had transformed Sage. She had blossomed under it, and she had a good rapport with the counselor. By the end of the first week, they were talking more about psychology than the issues at hand, but that in and of itself was therapeutic because Sage was looking forward to the future, a future that wouldn’t involve Trenton.

Two weeks after our rescue, I hired Sage as a waitress, and she hadn’t once showed up late. She hadn’t disappointed me. Sure, there were a few minor mishaps here and there, but nothing unlike all new waitresses had to deal with. When she confided in the counselor that the kidnapping had actually been a good thing because it gave her the kick in the rear she needed, the counselor pronounced her ready to move on from counseling. I think they still talked from time to time. Sage needed all the strong female role models she could get.

“Have you asked Mrs. Franklin for help with schools?”

“Yeah. She’s been a great help. She said she would write me a letter for schools if it weren’t for it being a conflict of interest, even though I’m not her patient anymore.”

I grinned. Everything was looking up—for Sage, for Corinne, for me and Grant.

Dinner came, and we didn’t talk much because the food was that delicious. I excused myself to the restroom, and Sage came with.

“He really makes you happy, huh?” she asked.

“You have to ask?”

“I see. I do.” She washed her hands and stared at me through the mirror. “It’s good,” she said quietly.

“What is?”

“To see a healthy relationship for once. My birth mom never had one, and I don’t think any of the relationships I had been in were either. A lot of the other guys, I just used them to make Trenton selfish, and that wasn’t right to them or to me.”

I hugged her. “When did you get so insightful?”

She laughed. “I really am happy for you.”

We walked back to the table to find desserts waiting for us—a huge slice of cheesecake for Grant, an even larger slice of chocolate fudge cake for Sage, and a small dish of crème brûlée for me.

Complete with a ring on top of the burned sugar.

Tears glistened in my eyes as I looked up to Grant. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sage grinning smugly. She had been in on this.

Grant slid out of his seat and got down on one knee. A slight hush fell over the restaurant.

“Victoria,” Grant said, and my name on his lips was said like a sigh.

I felt like sighing myself. I had told Corinne she deserved a fairytale. Although our story had started out more like a tragedy, Grant and I had sure turned it around to make it a proper fairytale.

“You are a rock. You’re steadfast and loyal and everything I could want in a woman.” Grant’s eyes were smoldering, and I knew he meant a lot more than what he was saying, but considering a crowd had formed, and my daughter was right beside us, he couldn’t go into every sensual and dirty detail. “You already make me the happiest man in the world, but I want to ensure I have that the rest of my life. I want to make you my wife. I want to serve you and you me. I want us to be each other’s best friends. I want us to be husband and wife, partners for life. Will you—”

“Yes!” I squealed, and I leaned forward to kiss him and tumbled out of my seat and into his waiting arms.

Sage rolled her eyes but laughed. “You should let him finish the question before answering!”

I laughed, too, and looked up into Grant’s beautiful eyes.

He grinned. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” I repeated, just as firmly as before. “Yes, of course!”

A chorus of cheers sounded from all around us. We had had an audience, but the only ones I cared about where my boyfriend—correction fiancé—and my daughter.

Several people came over to congratulate us, and when Grant asked for the bill, the waiter told us someone had taken care of it. He stood, glanced around, singled out a couple with a very young baby, and offered to pay their bill for them.

Just like that, I fell in love with him all over again.

Grant drove us back to his place, and the entire drive there, Sage kept pestering us with questions from the backseat. I had my hand on his thigh, and if it weren’t for her, I would’ve been sorely tempted to release Grant’s cock from his pants and stroke it until he came…or maybe I would’ve just taken it into my mouth and given him head. Grant was a safe driver, a little reckless at times sure, but safe for the most part. He would be able to handle the distraction, or if he couldn’t, I was sure we could find a secluded spot and make our way to the backseat and have some fun…

If it weren’t for Sage.

Goodness, I loved her, and I did think it was perfect that he had included her with the proposal, but, man, did I just want some alone time with Grant right now!

“Any idea when you’ll get married?” Sage asked.

I glanced at Grant.

He shrugged. “We’ll need to get a license.”

“I don’t want to be too rushed with planning everything,” I said, biting my lower lip.

“We can have as big or as small of a wedding as you like.” He gave me a quick smile before refocusing on the road.

“Small,” I said immediately. I didn’t want to wait long at all to be Mrs. Reardon. “You think we could be ready by next month?”

“Anything for you, babe.”

I grinned. I’d move heaven and earth to get everything ready by then.

“What colors? Sage asked. “What theme? Are you gonna do a theme? It’ll be May so indoor or outdoor wedding? Or do you wanna do a destination wedding? Get married on an island or Hawaii! I’ve always wanted to go there! Or…” Sage never once stopped talking or asking questions, and her enthusiasm was refreshing and contagious.

When we arrived at Grant’s loft, Sage hopped out of Grant’s car and ran over to mine. “Mom, can I borrow your car? I wanna run over to Corinne’s.”

I couldn’t grab my keys out of my purse fast enough. I practically ran over to her.

She took them from me with a sly grin and a wink. “I’ll stay over,” she announced. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it into work tomorrow on time.” She pulled me close for a tight hug and whispered, “Maybe forgo the condom this time. I wouldn’t mind having a brother or sister.”

I gaped at her. She waved, climbed in, and took off.

Grant walked over and draped an arm over my shoulders. “What did she say to you?”

My cheeks had to be bright red. “Oh, ah.” I cleared my throat. “We never discussed this.”

“What? Does she want to move out?”

My chest grew tight at the thought. Yes, Sage would have to move out, sooner or later. “I won’t kick her out,” I said slowly, “but maybe she should start looking at places.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to kick her out, and I figured that she’ll be staying on campus when she gets accepted into school, anyhow. I just thought she might’ve said something about that because you look a little flustered. What’s up, Vic?”

I stared up at him. “We haven’t talked about whether or not we want kids.”

A slow grin crossed his face. “Do you want one?”

“I love Sage,” I said slowly, “but it might be nice to have a baby. I never had to worry about diapers or teething or potty training or any of that. It would mean taking a step back from the restaurant, at least for a little while.”

“I know things were rocky at first with the whole ordeal,” he said, “but everything turned out all right.”

When the dust settled after “the whole ordeal” and I had been able to spare some moments to check out my phone, I found a ton of messages waiting for me. I listened to Heather Franklin freak out about one thing and another, her messages growing more and more frantic, until she figured out how to handle things on her own without having to rely on me, and then her last message was to let me know that everything was just fine.

I knew I had picked the right woman for the job—she just needed to realize she could do it and handle the pressure.

And if I had more time to train her so I could take a maternity leave, work shouldn’t be an issue.

But did Grant want one?

“Do you want a baby?” I asked, and held my breath. I hadn’t even thought about this before, but now I wanted it, badly.

“I only want one with you.” He lowered his arm to be around my waist and pulled me close for a tight embrace.

Together, we walked into the loft, and Grant kicked the door shut behind him. My hands hooked around his neck, and I pulled him down toward me to give him a kiss that tasted of love and lust and passion and zest. Grant ignited a fire inside of me that would never ever extinguish.

He pulled me even closer to him, so there was no space between us, the entire length of our bodies touching.

But there were far too many clothes on, and I could touch enough of his body. My hands were already pulling his shirt free from his pants, and I ran my nails up and down his back, loving the feel of his tight, taut muscles. I always felt so safe in his arms.

Immediately after the ordeal, I had been prone to taking naps to try to recover both mentally and physically, but each time, I had horrific nightmares. It was only when I slept with Grant that I slept peacefully. Even during sleep, I needed him.

I made quick work unbuttoning his shirt and ran my hands over his broad chest and his sculpted abs.

“You’re killing me,” he murmured.

“Just you wait.”

He tried to reach for my clothes, but I moved even closer to him to remove his shirt and kissed him soundly, so deeply that I felt it all the way down to my curling toes.

As we kissed, my fingers went to work on his belt, and I managed to undo his pants and shoved them down to his ankles. My nails raked against his chest, paying careful attention to his nipples and then down along the ridges of his six-pack abs and even lower to his waiting cock.

His cock throbbed in my hand, and I hadn’t even started to stroke it. I gently squeezed and looked up at Grant. His head was tipped back, slack-jawed, and he looked the picture of masculine erotic euphoria. I could stare at him forever. He was so hot.

And he’s all mine.

I would be the one to kiss his body, to touch and feel his muscles, to ride his cock. Everything—his smiles, his laughs, his mind, his body, his soul—was mine.

It gave me a heady sense of raw joy to recognize this, and I kissed the tip of his cock. Pre-cum leaked out, and I licked it.

Grant gripped my hair, guiding his cock into my mouth, and I took as much of him in as I could. He was long, eight inches at least, and my hands cupped his balls as I bobbed up and down his length.

“You’re…You’re killing me,” he groaned.

“Good,” I mumbled around him, and his cock jumped in my mouth.

For some reason, Grant pushed me away. I glanced up in surprise, but he lifted me up. I started to wrap my legs around him, but he had something else in mind.

He flipped me in his arms so my legs were pointed toward the ceiling, and he started to lick my pussy.

Oh, my goodness.

All the blood rushed to my head, but it felt so unbelievable and I couldn’t handle it. I gripped his rear to keep my head from swinging, and the tingling building deep within me grew and grew. His cock was right there, and I put it in my mouth.

It didn’t take me long at all to come. I would’ve screamed his name if I could’ve, but I wanted so badly to make him feel as good as I did that the more pleasure I felt, the more I sucked and kissed and sucked his cock.

Until he jerked back, loosening the hold of my mouth around his cock.

“I don’t want to come yet,” he growled.

He flipped me around, and I clung to him as blood rushed down from my head. With ease, he settled me into his arms, and he carried me off into the bedroom.

We made magic that night, unforgettable magic. And no, we didn’t use a condom. And we went at it again and again, in bed, in the shower, on the table…We had a lifetime to explore the world around us and each other, and I couldn’t wait to get started.

Sage might have sworn off bad boys, but I knew how good bad boys could be.

THE END

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Also by Sophia Gray

MINE: Fury Riders MC

Her heart, her body, her baby… it’s all mine.

She is sweet, innocent, naïve; I’ve got my enemies’ blood drying on my hands.

But she’s desperate for a baby, and I decide I’m the one to give it to her.

Twenty-four hours of unprotected lust – that’s the deal.

But she doesn’t know that once I get my hands on her…I’m never letting go.

At first glance, Josephine looks nothing like the kind of girls I typically screw.

She’s too prim and proper.

I prefer my women to be more like wild mares – that way, I get to enjoy breaking them.

But beneath the blond veneer and the pearly smile, there’s a frantic lust.

I can work with that.

Her mother is dying, and she wants to give her a grandchild before it’s too late.

So we strike a deal.

For twenty-four hours, anything goes.

Anything my twisted desires can conceive is fair game.

The only goal is for me to put a baby in her belly…

And then walk away forever.

But as it turns out, that’s easier said than done.

I never thought I’d fall victim to such a powerful craving.

Our time has ended, but I need her again.

I need her now.

And when I find out she’s carrying my son, that seals the deal.

Josephine is coming back to me, whether she likes it or not.

Nothing comes between me and mine.

SINS: Devil’s Horns MC

He will mark me with his sins… and fill me with his baby.

Grant Reardon is heaven and hell in a single sexy package.

He’s the key to finding my missing daughter… and the only thing standing in my way.

I try to ignore him – I need his help, not his domination.

But when he takes me in his arms, the temptation to submit overwhelms everything else.

My adopted daughter Sage disappeared without a trace.

I suspect her biker boyfriend and his stupid motorcycle club are the ones to blame.

Sage is my jewel, my precious, my world.

I have to find her.

I won’t rest until I do.

But no one will give me answers.

Mouths stay sealed and doors stay closed…

Until one door opens that should never have done so.

Framed in his entryway, Grant is like something out of a nightmare…

A steamy, feverish nightmare.

He’s rippling muscle and midnight-black tattoos.

He’s swagger and filth and a toe-curling rumble.

He’s everything I should stay far away from.

Too bad I have no way to go but forward.

He tells me to get lost, that Sage is not coming back.

But I can’t just stop looking.

Finally, I convince him to help me.

We take up the hunt, side by side, desperately trying to stave off the inevitable:

Me begging him to take me rough, take me hard, take me until I can’t take anymore.

He promises me we’ll find my daughter and that everything will be okay.

But sometimes, hell is the person who promises you heaven.

OBEY: A Dark Romance

A blizzard traps us within these cabin walls…

And Ciaran’s hands trap me beneath his rock-hard body.

He may have a near-death wound,

But one look in his eyes reveals the truth:

Nothing will stop him from claiming me.

A normal man would have died long before I happened to pass by.

But Ciaran is far from normal.

He’s a tattooed hulk, a Greek god of dark leather and heady musk and undeniable sex appeal.

And it will take a heck of a lot more than this to send him to the grave.

But despite his strength, he does need my help.

The storm raging around us is worsening and his injury requires medical attention.

There’s no time to get to a hospital – we have to get indoors now.

Too bad the closest shelter is a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Trapped within, I do the best I can to provide everything I can for him.

But when he wakes up and looks at me with clear eyes,

It’s obvious that he wants something more than I’m giving.

He wants my body.

He wants my heart.

He wants my submission.

And he’ll have them all, one way or another.

When he commands me to bend over, I have no choice but to obey.

DENY: A Dark Romance

She won’t last long if she denies me my desires.

I’m not the kind of man who takes “no” for an answer.

After the unpleasant torments I’ve suffered, I learned the hard way that the world doesn’t give you things just because you asked.

You must take them.

I’ve built a club and a career that way.

By seizing what I want, bit by bit, until I have everything I could dream of.

Everything but her.

The one who got away.

I’ve tried to bury the memory of her in countless club girls and the twisted thrill of violence.

But life has a sick sense of humor, and Angel refuses to be forgotten.

Imagine my surprise when I interrupt a mugging, only to realize that the damsel in distress is my former flame.

Years haven’t touched her beauty, nor my desire to own it.

I want to hold her as badly as I did the day I first laid eyes on that gorgeous frame.

I want to claim her.

To f*ck her senseless.

And yet, as surreal as all this is, she’s only the first of two surprising discoveries.

It turns out…

She has a son.

Correction – I have a son.

The realization leaves me stunned and furious.

She will pay for keeping this from me.

For keeping herself from me.

The world can go to perdition.

I have scores to settle.

HEAT: A Dark Romance

She might not survive my heat.

There are bad men in this world.

I would know: I’m one of them.

I f*ck women and leave them behind without apology.

I stomp out my enemies; I turn their wives into my slaves, their spawn into my servants.

I hurt; I take; I kill.

But despite all my sins and vices, I am not the worst this world has to offer.

That title is reserved for the devil himself:.

The mongrel who murdered my family.

I won’t rest until I’ve spilled his blood and condemned his soul to perdition.

He will feel the pain that I have felt a thousand times over.

I will have my revenge.

But I have one task left to complete before I leave to kill him or die trying.

I cannot let my family name go to the grave with me.

I need to know that my line will go on.

That means one thing:

I need a baby.

But the women in my life aren’t fit to hold my seed, much less my heir.

This requires someone special.

Someone I can seduce.

Someone I can shatter.

Someone I can mold into the vessel my child will require.

So I go hunting, and I find the one.

Lily is the perfect specimen.

Ghostly white skin perfect to brand as my own, curves to bite and suckle.

I’ve chosen her, and I’m not waiting to find out if she’s fully on board.

I’m going to seize her and do what I’ve always done –

Take until she has nothing left to give.

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