Page 3 of Killer Kiss

Despite his unkempt appearance, there was no doubt the man was stunning. He had the high cheekbones models would give their eye teeth for, and his eyes were the bright, pale blue that could stop a girl in her tracks.

Filled with pain, but so freaking beautiful.

While my tastes normally skewed to dark hair, dark eyes, this guy was absolutely Fawn’s type. She’d been falling for men like him down at the beach ever since she was thirteen years old. I’d had to run more than one of them off when they’d got too interested.

Was he her boyfriend? Or just a friend? Someone she worked with? I had no idea, because I had no clue what my sister was doing with her life. Jealousy swirled in my stomach. He was a complete stranger, and yet she hadn’t pushed him away, the way she had with me.

That rejection still stung, even though I understood it.

Beside me, the man’s fingers dug into the photo clenched in his hand, the edges tattered and smudged.

Shock punched through my stomach when my sister’s smiling face stared out from the image. The word ‘missing’ printed across the top in thick, black text.

In a heartbeat, my entire world shifted on its axis.

Guilt rushed in, slamming me hard.

My parents were right. A thought I hated to admit.

I should have never let her go.

I pointed at the picture and played dumb, no idea whether this guy could be trusted. Maybe he was her friend. But there was also an awful lot of scumbags out there, like that creep who preyed on young women. Only worse, because at least he’d done it in a public place. There were other men who stole women. Trafficked them away and sold them like they were property.

“This is the woman you’re searching for?” I asked him, trying to keep the shake out of my voice.

He glanced over, the expression in his eyes changing slightly. His gaze raked over my long dark hair that I’d painstakingly styled in loose curls that morning. Then shifted to my eyes.

I knew he was noticing exactly how similar my sister and I were.

I hated it. We were similar in nothing but looks. I didn’t want him to think I was like her when nobody was.

Fawn was one of a kind. If she was missing…

I swallowed thickly, not wanting to think about that. I indicated the photo crinkling in the man’s fingers.

He smoothed it out before handing it over to me. “Her name is Fawn. Have you seen her?”

I studied Fawn’s picture before returning my gaze to his. I needed to know who he was. If my sister was missing, I was going to need to know who she’d been spending her time with, and where. “Why are you looking for her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. “She your girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “No. A friend from work. She went missing a few weeks ago. We believe she’s being held against her will by her ex.”

My blood ran cold. A few weeks? Anything could have happened to her in that time. I ground my teeth together at the mention of her ex but kept a lid on the swirling rage building inside me, knowing I needed to get as many details out of this man as possible. “That’s horrible. Where do you work?”

“Saint View Strip Club.”

Oh God, no. I felt sick at the thought my sweet little sister had run from us, straight into swinging around a pole and taking her clothes off for money. I’d let myself assume she was teaching kindergarten somewhere.

But of course, that was hard without a college degree. Or a family to support you. She’d left with nothing but the clothes on her back. It had been naïve to hope she was living somewhere nice, with a good job, and surrounded by people who loved her.

Panic threatened to rise up my throat and cut off my air supply.

Stay on task, Ophelia, I reminded myself. Get the information. Get the job done.

Emotional responses were weak and unhelpful.

I raised an eyebrow at the man, mulling over the revelation he took his clothes off for a living. It explained the ripped body. “You’re a stripper?”

He seemed too tired to lie. “Yeah. Among other things.”

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