Chapter 22

Easton

Infuriating.

The woman was more infuriating than almost anyone I'd ever been around.

Her words.

Her actions.

Her… sex appeal. Goddamn, she was hot tonight, even in her ponytail, sweatpants, and a bright red shirt that hugged her gorgeous breasts perfectly.

I had it bad for the feisty woman with the hourglass figure. And a mouth full of sandpaper and glass shards. I was certain she was going to start spitting them at me just a few moments before.

Of course, that made me hunger for her even more. My resolve had kicked into overdrive a long time before. It had a leak in the fuel. Soon, I would need to fill it up and there was only one way of doing that.

With a taste of her.

Her lips.

Her rosy nipples.

Her luscious pussy.

Even with her nasty words, as usual every time I walked into a room, the possessive and very hungry need for her shot straight to the surface. I simply wasn't used to anyone challenging me in such an egregious manner.

Four days was enough. I was finished with keeping my end of the bargain and my patience. If she wanted fun, then I'd give it to her.

After that, she would learn challenging me would keep her in… hot water. Chocolate? I laughed to myself as I moved toward the cabinets, throwing open one door then another. She was right in that I'd never been into sweets, so I had no need to have them inside my house.

However, what she described as far as a relaxing night did sound… interesting. I had to readjust my cock in my jeans before walking to the pantry, opening the various doors. Hmmm… What could I do about her cravings this time of night?

Then again, what could I do about mine?

I'd think of something.

I threw back half the liquor, thinking about the last phone call I'd had with the boys, as I'd started calling them. There'd been no additional threats, no odd phone calls, but the intensity of knowing that some shit was about to hit the fan remained lurking in the backs of all three of our minds.

At least the list was being narrowed down person by person. Even Creed had taken it upon himself to walk the streets, talking to several of his informers. What we'd all found fascinating was that whoever was behind the threats had managed to keep a low profile. That included not bragging to anyone about what they were doing.

Very unusual.

Powerful men always bragged at least to one or more sources.

My thoughts drifted to Josie Barker. Why did I have the distinct feeling her father was up to something? As I'd reminded Sara, this was an election year for the man after all. I hadn't paid any attention to whatever his platform of the year had become. Maybe I needed to do so. I grabbed my phone, dialing Creed.

"You thought of something else?" he asked by way of answering his phone.

"What do you know about James Barker's re-election campaign?"

"Only that he's a pontificating asshole. Why?"

What I'd overheard of Sara's conversation with her friend had disturbed me but I certainly didn't want to share that with my sweet fawn. "My gut tells me the man is up to something."

"As in trying to discredit or destroy us?"

"As in gathering all his influential friends together not only to crush our regime but to possibly indict us for various crimes."

Creed snorted. "Well, Mr. Angel of Death. If what you say is true, then you in particular need to lay low. Let me have a long chat with a detective buddy of mine I recently caught in a horrific little scandal. He owes me."

I had to laugh. My brother was a cunning snake. "Let me know. I have graduation tomorrow with Sara and I don't want anything shoved in her face."

"You're still playing with fire."

"Yeah, don't I know it. Call me." The three of us had taken the last remaining six names on our infamous list of possible enemies. While I doubted Barker was stupid enough to outwardly threaten us, he could be working with a number of individuals to ensure we were on edge. I should get back to work but I just didn't want to.

As aggravating as Sara could be, not only had she allowed me to smile more than I had in years, she also made me want to take a night off.

And eat chocolate.

I laughed before refreshing my drink. One thing I knew for certain. Whatever was swirling around us was about to explode. I felt it in my bones. But for tonight, maybe even tomorrow, I could let it go to a point. Then I'd pick up the crusade all over again.

Graduation. It was one of the college activities I couldn't have cared less about. There'd been no one attending my college graduation, Styx the only one coming to my high school one and I'd somehow managed to become valedictorian, fooling everyone I had a normal family.

I took another sip of my drink, my eye catching her open laptop. Perhaps a present was in order for all her diligence and hard work. As I pressed my finger on the spacebar, it took a few seconds for the screen to come alive.

The story she'd mentioned was still up. Why not take a few moments to scan a page or so? I moved the computer to the kitchen table, refreshing my drink before sitting down to enjoy reading it.

Working together had been far more pleasurable than I would have admitted even a week ago. Sara was a hard worker, talented, and was especially good at creating vibrant scenes, including those I would have believed she'd shy away from. We hadn't pulled any punches when it came to the way the killer handled his victims, but there was also a sensuality to the man that almost surprised me.

She'd almost begged me to let her write the first moment when the stalked heroine confronted the man lurking in the shadows. I was more than eager to get her take on what needed to be a crucial turning point of the story.

I settled in, leaning back in my chair and scrolling. Instead of doing my usual scanning every third word or so, within seconds, I was completely absorbed in the depiction, the passionate moment between the two not a romantic fairytale but an act of submission on one side, and an entirely different kind of surrender on the other. Both characters were damaged, so flawed they needed each other.

Several dark thoughts entered my mind and I closed my eyes briefly before reading the conclusion. We had been brought together, not by karma but by an earth-shattering moment of need that had threatened to consume us individually. But together we were solid. Alive.

And no longer facing our darkness alone.

How profound.

How romantic.

How…

Sighing, I almost tipped the glass over in my attempt to grab it. Beads of sweat had trickled down both sides of my face from the explosive nature of the desire I felt.

As if I couldn't possibly live without her.

Maybe it was true there was really one person for each of us, a single person who could fill in the blanks, plug the holes, and keep us from going off the deep end. I wondered how many were lucky to find that person before they succumbed to their destructive ways or to death.

The scene was long, almost five thousand words but every sentence, every phrase used, every sight and sound in the setting was beautifully haunting. So much so by the time I was finished, my blood was pumping to the point I'd fisted the glass. My hands and arms were shaking from the intense rush of adrenaline.

What she'd written was provocative, passionate, and gritty and I closed my eyes, forced to rub my clenched and aching jaw before laughing.

Yes, everything about her was entirely perfect.

And the time was waiting was over.

While I would take what rightfully belonged to me, I would also indulge the woman who'd awakened my heart and soul with the other part of the equation she craved.

"Soon, my lovely fawn. There will be no turning back the hands of time."

Sara

"Asshole," I muttered.

How could anyone go to bed at what, ten at night?

Because he's tired. You should be too.

Yeah, well, at this point I was wired.

Along with not understanding chocolate and dogs were a girl's best friends, the master of the house also didn't understand protocol in the least.

I'd not only extended an olive branch of sort, albeit rather twisted, I'd given him my best seductive look as icing on the cake.

And he'd ignored both.

Really?

Maybe the man was punishing me for shoving him aside. If he was, it was working, my frustration reaching a new height. I wished I could describe what he'd done after grilling burgers to my besties.

Who I wasn't sure were even my friends any longer.

Damn Josie and her conspiracy theories. And damn her father too, although I'd only talked with the man a couple of times. Still, I'd had the impression then he was a pompous asshole who truly believed he deserved everything he wanted.

Yes, that was similar to the actions I'd seen in Easton, but they were entirely different.

Definitely.

Maybe.

I muttered under my breath and pounded my fist into one of the pillows to take out my aggression. Not that it was doing me any good. This was a perfect night and I was all alone.

Oh, woe is you.

Shushing the inner voice was something I'd done a lot the last two days.

I had the blankie, the glass of wine, and the perfect slasher flick, which happened to be one of my favorites even if it was older. Scream. It was providing the right amount of new material as well as allowing me to relax just a little.

It had taken me a little while to go through the man's extensive collection before choosing. Hot damn. I'd believed the guy a prude, but he'd proven me wrong. In his six or seven hundred titles hidden behind a false wall, there'd been at least eight in the horror/slasher variety. I was more than just impressed. His movie collection was as impressive as his wall full of books.

I was settled on the sprawling sectional sofa that could hold at least ten people comfortably. I'd fluffed two of the ten ginormous pillows. I had my feet up on one of the ottomans. And the actress on screen was dumb enough to keep answering the phone. Soon, she would become a delicious little bloodied victim.

Exactly what I enjoyed.

Yet I wasn't satisfied.

I needed the popcorn. And the fudgy ice cream.

I could admit it. I also craved a big, strapping man to protect me. Oh, God. What was I turning into that I required a man to keep me safe?

The answer was as disturbing as the thought. I'd seen the look in Easton's eyes. He was anxious, more so than I'd ever seen in the overtly confident man. Who was out to get him, Josie's father? If so, why not just sic the Saint family attorney on the man? I was certain they had an entire law firm standing behind them.

Sighing, I took a sip of my wine, sliding down on the couch even further. I had the creepy crawlies, which was ridiculous. The house was a damn fortress.

When the soon-to-be victim screamed, I almost did as well. This was ridiculous. I was the girl who used to purposely terrify Josie and Taylor just for kicks and giggles. Why was my stomach already in knots? I couldn't seem to help myself, the nervousness getting worse. I glanced around the room in the darkness, realizing that other than the overhead lights, which were far too bright, there wasn't a lamp to be seen.

Nor was there a single weapon I could use.

I rolled my eyes after looking over my shoulder, seeing nothing. Maybe writing about a psycho serial killer hadn't been in my best interest. At least I could smile as I tugged the soft, velvety blanket up to my chest.

The girl in the flick certainly had a pair of lungs on her.

A quick onscreen movement forced a tiny shriek from my lips and I threw my head back on the couch. Now I was seeing boogeymen. I did my best to ignore the goosebumps crawling on both arms.

Until I heard a legitimate noise.

Someone was creeping toward the room. I didn't care that the surround sound was loud and overpowering. I had keen hearing and knew someone was trying to sneak up on me. I slowly pushed the blanket aside and lowered my feet to the floor. As quietly as possible I placed the glass of wine on the table before grabbing the corked bottle, appreciating the fact I'd consumed less than half. It could be an effective weapon.

I certainly knew whoever was coming for me wasn't the man I was hoping for.

As I pulled the bottle to my chest, I pressed my back against the wall near the door. Of course, the damn backdrop had to be the girl on the screen screaming as she was being chased by the crazed, masked killer. That made a lot of sense.

When I heard a slight creak in the floorboards just outside the door, it reminded me of a scene we'd written together just prior to the heroine lunging at the hero, enraged at finding him. The moment I was certain the asshole had moved inside the door, I let off a primal scream and took a hard swing, like I would with a bat. I used everything I had, stumbling back away since I knew I'd hit the target.

But the intruder didn't fall. He didn't budge an inch. He stood there lurking in the door like a massive giant coming to eat me or worse. While he was enshrouded in shadows, he was big and bulky, his huge body puffed out on both sides. Fuck. This was a monster.

I was prepared to scream again, praying the sound baffling wasn't thick enough to smother at least some of the horror. The second the giant lunged for me, items flew into the air, the darkness preventing me from having a clue as to what they were. But I was terrified.

This was it.

The end.

Yet, I prayed the man who'd already sworn to protect me heard the scuffle.

And that he'd be able to save my life.