Page 4 of Wicked Games of Desire

“He was a car salesman,” I huff, frustration bubbling up. We’ve gone over this a million times since the night my family was killed.

He hesitates before continuing, his voice lower, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’ll be on the news by morning. Two guys matching the description of your attackers hit a local business tonight before burning it to the ground.”

“Fuck.” I wrap my arms protectively around my middle, a cold shiver running down my spine at the thought of the destruction. Memories of my own nightmare flash through my mind. “You have to get them. Lock them up.”

He pulls me closer, his voice softening as he tugs me back into him. “Come home with me.”

I give him a skeptical look, convinced that he has lost his fucking mind. “You’d get in a lot of trouble. Besides, they’re not after me. Dead girl, remember?”

His eyes flash with something I don’t like the look of. “Home, work, the gym, those are the only three places you go, right? Meet me back here tomorrow.”

I salute him even though I know he’s being deadly serious, and I wouldn’t go anywhere else anyway and he knows it. I’m not stupid. I might be a dead girl, but I don’t really want to end up in a shallow grave.

Chapter 3

Bolting upright in bed,I pant, trying to catch my breath. I’m drowning in sweat from head to toe. The thin cotton fabric of my pajamas sticks to my clammy body like a second skin. Squinting, I make out the early morning sun emerging over the line of old rundown apartments across from me.

Glancing at my phone on my nightstand, I check the time and let out an audible groan.

One hour!

I slept for one motherfucking hour, and the whole time I was having a nightmare, reliving the hell that was my reality just six months ago. All that shit with Ian being so overprotective last night had me playing last Christmas Eve on repeat.

Wearily swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I run a hand through my bird’s nest of colored raven curls before sliding my feet into fluffy slippers. They were cheap as shit from Walmart and probably won’t last me the winter, but slight comforts in my current livingsituation make it bearable, and I need a layer between me and the sticky linoleum floor.

Walking to the kitchen in three simple steps, I put two scoops of instant coffee into my mug as I wait for the water to boil. There’s no chance I’ll be able to go back to sleep now. When I see my captor’s handsome face with those piercing blue eyes, under all that mask paint, I know it’s over. Instead, I plonk myself down at the kitchen counter and pick up a pencil, letting my fingers glide over the sketch pad, quickly perfecting every detail until I have an exact match to his face. This man is the devil of my nightmares. Gorgeous as sin but just as deadly.

My black coffee goes down way too quickly, but I’m out of time to make another, so I slot the new sketch in with the twenty others in my kitchen drawer. I scan over the tattoo sketch I did last week. It’s from the hulk-like shooter’s forearm, a monster of sorts. This is all the evidence I have since the entire house was burned to the ground. The only clues I can piece together to explain who took my family from me and stole my life.

Ian says he can help me, and I have to believe him, because I don’t have anyone else. And the only thing that’s gotten me through the last six torturous months was knowing they would eventually be punished for their crimes. Tonight, after my shift at the diner, I’ll meet him at the gym with these drawings. And then we’ll catch the fuckers who took everything from me. I’m done watching over my shoulder and pretending to be someone else just so I can survive. I want to be the carefree college student whose biggest concern is begging her papa for the latest computer appliance or handbag so she can keep up appearances at the ritzy school he shipped her off to.

I want my life back.

Flipping burgers at a grimy diner on the outskirts of Ravens Hollow isn’t my dream job, far from it. But here I am at three pm on a Tuesday, the smell of BBQ and French fries lingering in the air, fat spitting up over my apron as I stand behind the greasy mint-green laminate counter, spatula in hand. The flickering neon sign illuminating the worn linoleum floors outside is getting on my last nerve. My overtired eye twitches every so often as I try to tune it out and focus on my task at hand.

Our servers, donning roller skates, gracefully serve coffee to exhausted truck drivers with worn eyes and rugged hands. I guess I hit the jackpot with kitchen duty today. No handsy old dudes to deal with. I think our boss, Mark, knew that one more ass slap and I’d reach my breaking point, ready to unleash my fury on the asshole. What he doesn’t know is the snide remark I offered on my way out of this place yesterday wasn’t too far from the truth. The next creep to touch me is losing a hand.

Anxiously I pat the side of my leg, checking that my trusty combat knife strapped to my thigh permanently is where I left it. I relax my shoulders when I feel it is. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I would be this girl. Jumpy, sleep-deprived, just waiting for the next person to piss me off so I can take out my bottled-up rage on them. But here I am. A ticking time bomb.

“Who has been biting you with such force that it’s leaving noticeable hickeys?” Dani silently comes up behind me and softly whispers in my ear. She touches the place on my neck that’s marked. “Did my little shy friend, Lana, finally get a good dicking last night?”

I can’t help but laugh at her confidence, a delicious shiver running through my entire body at the thought of Ian’s lips on my skin. Theman’s hotter than sin. He’s also forbidden. We never should have gotten carried away. “Not likely. Had a rough session in the gym last night. Must be from that.” I shrug off her comment. I’m not one to kiss and tell. Especially when I shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place. One minute, he was warning me off him because he could get in serious shit for taking advantage of me in his position of authority. The next he was fucking me like his life depended on it.

For six months he’s been my savior, my angel, the person who was there to pull me out of the darkness and force me to keep moving forward. He taught me how to fight in his gym, helped me get a job, an apartment, and a secret identity. Without him, who knows what would have happened to me. But what happened between us last night was unexpected, and I already know there is no way it can happen again. No matter how much I’m craving him. He could get in serious trouble. And with how kind he’s been to me, I can’t let that happen.

“You can’t lie to me. I know a hickey when I see one. Least now I know who it is that has you smirking to yourself today.”

I shake my head, focusing on the sizzling hot plate in front of me. She has no idea what this is, and neither do I. But it has to end tonight. When I hand over the drawing, I’ll set him straight. We need to go back to what we were before.

“Check out these two hot motherfuckers.” Dani wolf whistles so only the two of us can hear. “I’ll take the big guy, blondie with all the ink, and you can have blue eyes.” She demonstrates riding him like a cowgirl, and I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head at her confidence. If it wasn’t for her playful comments, these shifts and days would drag on forever. One thing Dani knows how to do is get me to smile, even if it’s a half-assed attempt.

A gravelly voice prickles over my skin, ordering a couple of coffees with plain coolness. I know that voice! Using Dani as a human shield,I spin round so I can see who’s at the counter. I wasn’t interested in the dudes she was checking out, but I am now. That’s the voice that haunts me every night. Peering over her shoulder cautiously, I take them in. “Holy fucking shit.” My heart races so hard I feel like it’s going to pound right out of my rib cage. I found them. I swallow hard. Or have they found me?

“I know, right,” she agrees. “Not like the usual old scumbags we get in this place. Think it’s our lucky day, Lana girl.”

“Shh.” I try to hush her so I can hear what he’s saying. Blue eyes appears to be chatting up Wendy, our server who’s manning the front counter. He orders two large, long blacks and smiles like he’s the host of a game show. She’s doing our usual “fries with that” spiel, and I can tell she’s trying to keep him at the counter for longer, leaning over the laminate counter, twirling a long strand of hazelnut-tinted hair with her fingers. Probably thinks she’s won the jackpot with these two. Dani is right, they are downright gorgeous in the light of day. Little does Wendy know, they’re cold-blooded killers.

Icy-blue irises gleam with charisma as he flirts back. The big guy with the mohawk looks less interested, folding his arms as he leans his ass against the counter, scanning the room in a way that makes me feel uneasy. What’s he searching for with that scowl on his face? It’s obvious that this isn’t their usual coffee place since they’ve never been here before. That idea makes me feel nauseous.

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