All too calmly, she reassured. Like this scenario was normal everyday shit that she could just toss to the side.

Slipping my gun in the holster at my side, I moved closer to her. Even in the dark her eyes glowed as if they were purple, but that couldn’t be. It had to be some shade of blue or contacts. Either way, they were striking this close.

“See, I want to believe you. But…”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Look. I don’t want any trouble. I come to work, do my job, and go home. Whatever you have going on here, I want nothing to do with. You. I want no part of.”

“Ahhh … two truths and a lie, how cute,” I teased. “Yeah, you don’t want trouble, yeah, you want nothing to do with what’s going on here, but me, babe, you definitely want a part of me.”

My body urged me to take a few steps closer as I only had to look down a bit to meet those eyes. She stood stoic, and I wanted to do something to break whatever shell she had built around herself. Because she had one. And it was strong as steel.

Fuck, it made me hard.

“Nyx Kingston. Moved to Sumner about nine months ago when you started working here. Twenty-nine-years-old. Originally from Kansas, then from St. Pete Beach. Don’t know your father, your mother is dead, and you’re an only child.”

Instantly, her eyes narrowed, back went straight, and she glared at me unflinching. “Have you been checking in to me?”

My lips tipped. “I check into everyone.”

“Great, then I don’t need to tell you anything. You know where I live. If I talk, you’ll slice my throat… Yeah. Got it, big boy. We’re done here.”

She said it so casually. As if slicing someone’s throat was an everyday occurrence. But from the background I found on her, her mom was a teacher. That wouldn’t give a woman any ideas like these. It didn’t fit. Now she had me curious.

“Awfully graphic for a bartender from Kansas.”

A small smirk threatened to reveal itself as she kept her features calm, “Look. I watch a lot of true crime stuff, and I’m not stupid to think you’ll let me live if I talk. The thing is, I don’t care. You want to shoot him, just do it when I’m not around.”

Before I could call her bullshit, the back door opened, and Cass, the other bartender, came striding out. He lifted his chin to me. “Raid.” He looked down at Nyx, studying her. “Everything okay?”

It was then I saw it. All the bravado. All the self-assuredness. All the confidence began to melt away little by little. She closed her eyes and then opened them once again. When she did, there was a different woman there.

One who was more passive. Meek. One who didn’t have the spark in her eyes that just postured up to me about knowing any information about her.

But I knew better. I’d just seen her fire. The defiance. The woman beneath that, for some fucking reason, she was trying to bury. What the fuck was going on here?

“Hey, Cass.” She looked up at him, her eyes a bit softer. “Raid was just saying hi. I’m beyond tired. Can you walk me to my car?” She let out a dramatic yawn to add to her play here.

Cass looked between the two of us. “You cool, man?”

I took a few steps back. “Yeah. I’m cool.”

He nodded, putting his hand at the small of her back as he led her to her car. Just as she reached her vehicle, she turned and made eye contact with me, but I had no idea what she was telling me. There was something, though.

All I could say was she had me on a hook, and I needed to know more.

Luckily for me, I was great at finding stuff out about people. The good, bad, and ugly.

She would see me again. Soon.

3

NYX

A groan leftmy lips from the blaring sound of the alarm chiming through the room. Turning on my side, my hand flew out and slammed down on the snooze button, finally stopping the annoying sound.

“Fuck me…”

Back falling to the bed, my eyes were not ready to open. Even rubbing them did nothing to stir them into alertness. Working until three in the morning and then walking into Raid Monroe holding a gun on some asshole didn’t help me get to sleep last night. I had to be seriously wiped to have the dreams I had.