Page 42 of Unholy Bonds

“Perhaps, but this isn’t done by someone who just knows how to use knives. My gut tells me that this is done by someone who knows more about the human body. Someone who knows how to hurt and kill, someone who has done it before.”

Well, fuck yes. You’re looking at her.

My job, my livelihood, and my slightly skewed hobby all revolved around death. It wasn’t just a part of my life; it was my life. It was like air, like water—death was the essence of my existence. With every soul I took, I earned a few years of living.

“I can’t—I don’t work with my gut. This is science and—” My words were cut off by my ringtone.

Ryden shook his head in disappointment when I answered my call.

“Hello, Detective Rosario,” I greeted, glancing at Ryden. He gritted his teeth.

“Okay. I’ll see you then,” I said, staring at Ryden. “I have to leave now.”

He cursed and raked his long fingers through his hair. “I think that man can smell me from a thousand miles like a bloodhound,” he grunted as he bit into his chocolate cake. “How long…”

“He said he’ll be here in twenty,” I said as I watched Ryden lick the chocolate from the side of his lips.

My lips parted. Why was he so effortlessly sexy? My nipples hardened inside my silk blouse, and I badly wanted his tongue on them.

This isn’t the time to think about his cock, Yara, or how you would feel if you were impaled on it.

Isn’t it, Kat?

“Call me later,” I said. His fingers lingered on my palm for a painful breath before he took it from me.

I handed my business card to him. My name and number were embossed in gold on a matte black card. He studied it as if wondering why a medical examiner needed something so outrageously gaudy. It was Irene. She designed it. I had scoffed when Irene handed the card to me, and she’d said that it matched my persona. My heart of coal, and my eyes of gold. She was poetic like that.

Irene was my only family in the whole world. I kept her safe and far away from me. I was always afraid that someone would find my truth and then use her to hurt me. She was my only weakness. “I know, I know,” I said, and he smiled, and my eyes fell to that small scar on his bottom lip with a sigh.

“I’ll call you.” He smiled, pushing the plate of cake toward me. “Eat it. It’s delicious.”

My heart thundered strangely as I took a bite of it, and he watched, his eyes predatory as he continued to eat.

“May I?” I whispered. “You have some chocolate here.”

He nodded, and my thumb slid across his lower lip, tracing the scar, and he stilled.

Without taking my eyes from his, I sucked my thumb, and he groaned, shaking his head. His eyes met mine for a second before he stood up.

He paid for our cakes and coffee before he turned to look at me. He gave me his hand, and when I took it, he rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb before he let go.

“I’ll find you again, Yara West.”

I couldn’t wait for him to find me.

“Please, do, Ryden Sinclair.”

18

WIN OR LOSE

YARA

On Sunday night, he finally took me up on that offer and called. I was surprised he had waited so long. I was sitting by the fireplace sipping the hot chocolate drowned in rum, Irene’s favorite combination during winter, when the call came.

He surely made me wait for him for a long fucking time. After that day at the café, after I realized he wanted me just as much as I wanted him, I expected him to jump when I asked him to, but his self-restraint was so fucking good.

Never before had a man made me wait for what I desired. They always soaked up even the slightest bit of my attention, my time, and oh, I’d smother them with it before I killed them. Not Ryden, though.

---