Page 87 of Unholy Bonds

“You are a peculiar woman, Yara West, and I can’t help but want to peel every layer to find the real you.”

She looked delighted as she strolled over to where I was standing and leaned against the car next to me. She smelled like lavender and vanilla and me, and that gave me a strange sense of victory. I loved how well she wore my scent on her body.

“What are you doing this Wednesday night?” I asked, the words coming out before I was even thinking about it.

“Home alone, most probably, if I don’t have dead bodies to deal with,” she said.

“Do you want to go out with me?” I should have stopped before I said it out loud, but now that the words were out, I found myself waiting for her rejection, hoping she wouldn’t.

I knew how no-strings-attached worked. Not even a flimsy string should connect her to my world. But here I was, waiting impatiently for her to not reject my offer.

“Where?” she asked.

“There’s this art exhibition and—” I paused. Bringing Yara to meet Enzo felt like a crossover I shouldn’t want. I couldn’t want that. But sanity had lost meaning the moment I met this woman.

Her eyes danced and sparkled. I wondered what secrets she carried in her soul. I was sure it wouldn’t be stained with blood like mine, but I knew there were secrets.

“The gallery is new, and it just opened. The event’s a formal one with a charity gala and an art exhibition. The theme is life and death.”

The smile that came then was like a punch to my stomach. “I’d love to. I love art exhibits, but let’s not forget the rules. This can’t go anywhere. It’s only physical.”

“I won’t forget.” Despite my words, a part of me yearned to discard the rules and jump off this cliff and revel in everything that defined Yara West, to get caught in the eye of her storm.

She settled into her car, gave me a wave, and drove away, leaving me wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into.

Yet… I had no intention of freeing myself from the vortex that was this woman. I was more than willing to remain right there in the eye of the storm.

For as long as she desired.

As soon as her car disappeared into the winding dark roads, I drove toward Josh Mitchell’s house. It wasn’t hard to find where he lived once I started digging. He opened the door at the second ring. Eyes wide, he stumbled back inside, and I followed him with a smile. The fear in his eyes was beautiful.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked with a wince. I could almost taste his fear; he knew I was someone he shouldn’t mess with.

“Listen to me carefully, Josh. I’m not going to tell you this twice, but… don’t ever talk to Yara. Don’t even look at her.”

“Wh-what? What the hell is…”

“Stay the fuck away from Yara. You hear me? She’s mine, and I hate it when people come near what’s mine. Do NOT.”

“Does she know you are—”

“Shut the fuck up. She won’t know it because you’re not going to tell her. Do you understand me?”

“What’s wrong with you?” He lurched toward me. I grabbed him by his shirt collar, slamming him against the wall and pressing my elbow against his throat. His eyes widened. A part of me wanted to tear him into a million pieces just for daring to touch her.

“Do you think you’ll win this fight? You know you won’t, right? I’m not someone you want to displease, Joshua. Trust me. I’m doing this for your own good. Forget her. If I ever see you with her…”

“You’re fucking mad. Leave me alone,” he squeaked, thrashing in my hold.

Laughing, I let him go, and he adjusted his shirt collar. “Where’s your phone? Take it out and send a message to Yara.”

“A message?”

“Yes. Tell her you can’t see her again after what happened at Onyx, and then move on.”

His fingers trembled when he typed the message. I smiled when I saw Yara’s reply.

Goodbye, Josh. I was planning to text you anyway.

---