Page 14 of Mayhem and Minnie

“Uhm, no?” she stutters, averting her gaze.

Another thought suddenly crosses my mind.

Fuck.

Why did I not think about this earlier?

She’s scantily clad, by the side of the highway. There’s one other explanation as to why she would do that.

She was there to ply her trade. And that man must have been a potential customer who was getting a little more rowdy after she rejected him.

I sneak another glance at her.

How the fuck would someone like her be a prostitute? Aside from her lack of clothes in this nasty weather, there’s nothing else that screams sex worker. Her clothes are normal, not sexy. She’s not wearing any makeup. But maybe that’s her style.

I already assumed she was underage. I have no doubt others would, too.

My lips pull back in disgust.

Fucking hell. Don’t tell me she’s trying to appeal to fucking pedos!

The urge to get names out of her so I can hunt them down is overwhelming. Now those make the best kill. They’re fucking cowards who prey on those weaker than them and deserve nothing but a slow and painful death.

I’ve killed my fair share of them. But the sad reality is that no matter how many I kill, there are still many more out there, most of the time hiding behind a mask of normalcy and living their lives without ever being found out.

There’s nothing more that I hate in this world than fucking cowards—those pieces of shit who abuse and exploit helpless people and animals—although I’m rather partial to animals. Children, women, and animals should be protected at all costs. They should never be hurt.

A flash of white dances in front of my eyes.

Once more, I find myself lost in my musings. And as I blink, it’s to find the girl nearly on my lap. Her face is inches away from mine—so much so that I can feel her breath on my lips.

My eyes widen in alarm and I freeze.

What the hell is wrong with her?

I stare at those haunting eyes of hers, and a sweet, musky scent invades my nostrils.

She smells good, my brain tells me as it processes that stimulus. She smells better than one hundred percent of the people I’ve met, and I can’t stop myself from breathing her in.

It’s not a perfume. There’s nothing chemical about the scent—and I’m very familiar with all types of chemicals.

No, it’s something natural. The scent clings to her skin, made more potent by the warmth surrounding us. She’s left my coat behind, so she’s once more scantily clad. Her bare arms cage me in, and if I were to turn my face, I could brush my lips against her skin.

Goddamn it, Marlowe. There will be no lip brushing of any sort!

Her eyes are even bigger up close. They’re a warm shade of brown, that on any other day, I would have called woody. But in this moment, the color is like a magical swirling amber that’s trying to hypnotize me.

And I almost fall for it.

Almost.

“What about now?” she asks huskily. With every word she speaks, her hot breath brushes against my face. It makes me…uncomfortable. “Do you find me irresistible now?” She bats her lashes slowly at me—she probably thinks she’s coming across as flirtatious.

“How much do you want?” I ask.

Her brows go up and a smile slowly curves at her lips.

“A thousand dollars? Two?”

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