Page 29 of Twin Deception

Can you tell that I’m following you?

Are you pretending not to notice?

Will you run if I get any closer?

She hadn’t run—at first—at that club. When I confronted her, she didn’t freak out or try to burst away. No. Instead, she’d danced with me. She listened to me flirt with her. Still, when I told her and showed her how I wanted to dominate and possess her, she stayed to hear me out and experience a sample of how badly I wanted her.

Ahead of me in this alley as the rain picked up, she didn’t run. Mist rose and swirled in the humidity, with the drizzle falling and increasing into a steadier run. Unbothered by the moisture, she walked forward, a lone figure cutting through the fog.

Fuck, do I want you.

The mystery of her. The allure of her. I’d never been this suckered by a woman before.

I could close in on her more, but this teasing hesitation that I forced on myself was too thrilling to stop.

She was my target, and I had no right to want her. But try as I might, I couldn’t give up this chase for the forbidden. For the unreachable.

I could taste the sweet anticipation of sneaking up behind her, the heart-pounding excitement of touching her soft skin and holding her close. In my mind’s eye, I saw the glitter of a thrill in her eyes as she realized I had located her again. Like it was a reward for her, too, to be caught by?—

As I followed her around a corner, a man stepped out from the shadows and grabbed her.

“Hey! Let me go!” She shouted it not in panic, but anger, furious that someone could snatch her like this.

I reacted instantly, damning the yards between us. A block was all the gap I’d wanted between us so I wouldn’t lose her. Now I regretted hanging back that far. It took me that much longer to run up to them. It took me that many more minutes to reach this fucker who thought he could put his hands on her.

Rain streaked down faster, blurring my vision as I sprinted. I locked down on them, though, squinting to see. Pumping my arms, slamming my feet down hard, I raced forward.

You’re dead. You aredead, motherfucker.

Low, snarled promises and threats from him failed to make sense to my ears as I darted up close. He spoke to her as he covered her mouth and forced her away with him. But he didn’t get far. She bucked and fought, kicking to get free.

Just as I got there, gun in hand and anger streaking through me to the point that I was a machine of murder, he growled and backhanded her in a harsh slap that sent her falling to the ground. She cried out, holding her hands up to break her fall. The second she dropped down into a nasty puddle, he reared his fist back to punch her into submission.

But I was there. Gritting my teeth, I thrust forward to grab his hand.

Surprise registered on his face as I forced his arm back.

“What the?—”

I hit. An uppercut to his face pushed him staggering toward the wall. I followed up by raising my gun at him. Shooting first would’ve been better, but I hadn’t wanted her to get hurt.

He didn’t let me shoot. Kicking up in a move only those trained in martial arts would know, he sent my gun flying through the air. When he raised his gun, sneering at me with blood leaking from the cut on his lip I’d given him, I ducked and evaded his shot.

This was combat, then. A grisly, bloody, gory scrimmage of hits and kicks. Not a gunfight. He set the conditions, and I’d make him pay dearly for fucking with Isabel at all.

He was the dumbass who’d tried to capture her. And he’d die for it.

He was the moron who thought he could shoot me. And he got a beating for that, losing his gun as we fought.

And he was the idiot who continued to spew one blank threat after another. And he would take his regret for uttering a single word to his death.

Taunting me that he’d rape her. That he’d take her and fuck every hole until she bled. How he’d chop her up and show no mercy.

His voice almost seemed familiar, but in the throes of fighting him, I couldn’t slow down enough to guess whether I might recognize him. I wasn’t from this part of the country. I had confidantes everywhere, but no close acquaintances here.

“You wanna be her fucking hero? Huh?” He got a lucky hit in, right to my ribs. I grunted through the pain and didn’t stagger back.

I wasn’t supposed to be her hero. I was supposed to be her killer.

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