Killer: A Bad Boy Romance (3 page)

“I mean it,” I said innocently. “What could happen to me?”

Chase glared at me. “You don’t want to wonder,” he said in a low voice. “You think I’m scary? Wait until five guys, like me only bigger, want to chase you down and gangbang you. Then you won’t be feeling so confident.”

I cringed at the image. He was right. I shouldn’t have even been flippant. “I’m sorry,” I said meekly. “I just don’t know what I have to be afraid of.”

“If you were smart, you’d listen to me,” Chase insisted. I watched the muscles in his jaw and neck tense up, and again I was overcome with desire. I couldn’t explain it, and it felt like a betrayal by my own body, but it was definitely there. He trailed his eyes down my body, lingering on the faint traces of curves, and I felt his gaze leave a trail of fire in its wake.

I swallowed. Being around someone who I was both attracted to and afraid of was a new feeling, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Then again, he was the one completely in charge of the situation. He knew it, and I knew it. If he wanted to do anything to me, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. The sheer size of his body coupled with his obvious strength and speed were all enough to keep me from trying, though.

“So don’t talk,” Chase repeated. “Don’t say one single fucking word about what you saw, little girl, or everything is going to be over for you.” He mimed slitting his throat. “And it’s going to be worse than that,” he told me. “A lot worse. So keep your mouth shut.”

I nodded. “I will,” I said. Chase kept his gaze on me for a long time after my words had faded into silence. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” I said breezily. “I’m the most boring person on the planet.”

“Become even more boring,” he told me. “Don’t give anyone a fucking reason to look twice at you, you understand?”

I nodded again. “I will,” I told him. “I promise you won’t have to worry about me.”

“Good,” he growled. “I don’t have time for some pretty thing like you.” I watched as he got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Remember what I said,” he warned me again as he opened the door. “Stay out of sight.”

I watched wordlessly as he slammed the door, and then listened to his heavy footsteps pound down the stairs of my apartment complex. My heart was hammering in my chest and I looked down to see that my hands were shaking in my lap. I couldn’t believe what had just happened; it was like something out of a nightmare.

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. My forehead felt sweaty. From inside of my apartment, I could hear a car door slam and the ignition roar to life; I imagined Chase hunkered down behind the wheel of some monster sports car.

He thinks I’m pretty
, I thought dumbly. It was like everything else that he’d said didn’t matter at all. It didn’t matter that my life was in danger, or that some hulking guy had just threatened me. At least he thought I was pretty.

Chapter Four

Chase

When I walked into the club that night, it smelled like fresh blood. I could tell from a mile away that something bad was about to go down, and I couldn’t wait. Peyton had texted me earlier and told me there was something I “had to see,” so I drove downtown after dark. When I rolled up, Peyton was sitting outside, smoking a cigarillo.

“My man,” he greeted me, slapping me on the back. I nodded at him once and sat down. After knowing someone for over fifteen years, you don’t really need to talk.

“What’s up?” I asked, rubbing a hand on my close-cropped head. I still wasn’t used to being able to grow my hair longer than a buzz, but I was going to have to adjust. After all, the real world ain’t prison.

“It’s good, man,” Peyton said, leaning back. “Listen, do you still need work?”

I nodded. “Yeah, man. It’s been a few weeks. I’m done working construction, though. That’s some dangerous shit, and I can’t deal with those assholes.”

Peyton shook his head. His dreadlocks flew around his face, settling in a pile on his left shoulder. “It ain’t that, man,” he said, taking a long draw on his smoke. “You ever heard of PI?”

“Like the fuckin’ circus?” I laughed. “That’s a fucking riot, dude. Me in the fuckin’ circus.”

“No, you fool,” Peyton replied. He was laughing so hard that smoke was pluming out of his nose. I watched as it curled lazily above our heads and drifted off into the atmosphere. “Private investigation, not P.T. Barnum.”

I frowned. “Don’t you need to go to fuckin’ school for that, man?”

Peyton shook his head. “This is on the down low,” he said in a quiet voice. “But you know that fuckin’ gang you lookin’ for?”

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down!” I hissed. Peyton looked nonplussed.

“I know a guy who knows a guy, who knows someone with them,” he said quietly. “Someone who needs a little investigation work done. You down? If you work with him, he might be able to help you out.” Peyton looked at me.

I sighed. Peyton knew everything. Fifteen years ago, my sister, Rose, was brutally murdered. The cops had never found anyone, but I always had a feeling that it had to do with this gang, The Machetes. They were bad news, and didn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who stepped in front of them. Rose had been a good girl; sweet, kind, beautiful. She even went to church, for fuck’s sake. I still wasn’t sure what happened, but I’d spent the past ten years trying to find her killer. Even when I was locked up, I never stopped looking. When I was in the big house, I met some ex-cons who had been with The Machetes. Even though they were old, they were still tough birds. One of them had gotten me fucked up in the heroin business, and I was pretty sure that I was in jail because of that fucking gang. The guys I met behind bars weren’t much of a help, but they gave me the area to start looking when I got out. So far, the trail had been cold.

Seeing this part of Detroit made me shiver. I hated thinking of Rose here alone, dying in the street like an animal. It made me rage every time her sweet face crossed my mind. No matter what I did with the rest of my life, I had to avenge her. It was the only thing I cared about.

“I’ll take the work,” I told Peyton darkly. He nodded his approval, and I could see his white teeth grinning in the dark.

“Good man,” he replied. “What’s been new with you, man?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Not a fucking trace, that’s for sure. I think I got a little rusty when I was locked up for so goddamn long.”

Peyton shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine,” he told me mildly. “You do what I tell you, and you’ll come out smelling like a goddamned rose.”

His metaphor made my sister’s angelic face cross over my mind. I could still see her now; light green eyes, like mine only sweeter. Medium brown curly hair, curved pink lips. She’d been the most beautiful girl in the world, and she never got to experience any of it. Rage violently coursed through my body.

Peyton watched me with amusement. I glared at him silently. “Thanks,” I finally said. Even though he knew about Rose, I didn’t want to bring her up again. Sometimes I couldn’t even believe that I deserved to say her name.

I nodded at my friend and went inside the club for a drink. Finding work meant something to celebrate, even if it meant working with those scumbags from The Machetes. Flagging the bartender, I ordered a whiskey, neat. He brought me two and I tossed them back one after the other, feeling the liquor burn my throat with a familiar warmth. I paid him without speaking and walked back outside.

Peyton was gone. I figured he’d be in touch when it came for me to find out more about my assignment, but I couldn’t lie. I was still bummed. It was a lot for a man to be locked up for ten years with no real life, and I hadn’t felt like I’d entirely come back yet. I’d been bouncing around from one odd job to the other and nothing stuck. But Chase McIntyre, private investigator? Admittedly, I liked the sound of it. I pictured myself in the future with some sleek office and a string of honeys I could call up for a one-night stand whenever I wanted it. Women couldn’t keep themselves away from me now; if I had a dollar for every bitch I’d fucked since getting out of prison, I’d have enough to retire. But that was all it was to me, sex.

A black car with tinted windows pulled up and some man rolled out of the backseat. He grunted at me. “Yo, McIntyre!”

I walked towards the sound of my last name being called in the air. “What the fuck, man?” I hissed. “These people don’t fuckin’ know me!”

“Sorry,” he said in a dry tone. “I got a message from someone. You better watch your back if you wanna stay alive in this city.”

I frowned. “What the fuck you talkin’ about, man?” I stepped back from the car. “I didn’t fuck nobody, not in this town.”

The man sneered and got in my face. “You better listen, jackoff,” he said through his teeth. “Unless you want my friend to go skin up your little girlfriend, you better keep your fuckin’ head down!”

“Who?” I squinted. “I don’t have no fuckin’ lady!”

The man laughed, exposing pearly white teeth and some gold caps in the back of his mouth. “That fuckin little tight brunette girl,” he told me. “With those big eyes. You watch out for her. Her pussy smells so good I could whiff it from across the street.”

I set my mouth in a thin line.
Lacey
. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I said, backing away from the car with my hands up in the air. “You’ll never see us again.”

The man laughed again, this time turning it into a harsh cough. “That’s fuckin’ right,” he replied through laughter. “We don’t see you
alive
again, you hear?” He started hooting and laughing and doubling up. From inside the car, I could hear other men jeering and laughing as I backed away.

Fuck all of y’all,
I thought as I stormed away from the club.
Fuck you for making me have to protect her, too
.

Chapter Five

Lacey

“Lacey, there’s someone here to see you,” Anne called over her shoulder. She frowned at me when I walked closer. “He looks like a convict,” she hissed. “Do you want me to call the cops?”

My heart sunk when I realized that she couldn’t be talking about anyone other than Chase. At least, I hoped that she couldn’t be. I hated to think of running into more than one man who looked like him. Chase was scary enough; thinking about him and his body-double made me shiver.

I swallowed hard. “No,” I told her, trying to sound normal. “That’s completely unnecessary.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Then please tell your
boyfriend
to stop coming to Dawning Center, okay?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry,” I said apologetically. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Anne’s eyes flashed. “Lacey, I don’t really care,” she replied. “We’re busy and we need you here, okay?”

I felt a blush color my whole face. “Right, I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. He’ll be gone soon.”

I scanned the parking lot but didn’t see him on any of the security monitors. Just when I was beginning to think he’d left, I saw Mr. Simpson walking towards me, grinning.

“Lacey!” he called, smiling. “And how are you this lovely December evening?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Simpson,” I said politely. “And how are you?”

He raised a hand in the air to correct me. “Mark,” he said. “And I’m fine, just a little lonely. Can I interest you in a ride home?

I shook my head. “I have a car, Mark,” I told him, feeling awkward. “And no, thank you.”

He smiled. “Darn!”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I looked into his face. “I have to leave, a friend is waiting for me.”

“Next time!” Mark called, and I shuddered. He was so cute; what was wrong with him? Was it that he looked too old? Or that I wasn’t ready to be a step-mother? I should have been totally attracted to him, but I wasn’t. There was just something so…nonthreatening about him. He wasn’t like Chase, not at all.

Stop thinking about that lughead. He doesn’t mean anything to you, and he’s probably dangerous
, I berated myself.

Mark had barely disappeared inside when Chase came up out of nowhere. He glared at me. “We need to talk,” he said shortly.

I frowned. “I’m still working,” I said. “Can it wait?”

Chase shook his head. He opened his piecing green eyes wide and stared at me. “It can’t,” he said flatly.

“I haven’t done anything, if that’s what you mean,” I managed to squeak out in a small voice.

“I know,” he huffed. “Who was that douchebag talking to you?”

“Chase!” I hissed, looking around. Mark was nowhere in sight; I could hear the faint laughter and squeals of kids coming from inside the center. “That’s really rude, Chase. He has these two adorable kids who he’s really great with them. His wife died a few years ago, and I think he’s just lonely. He’s a really nice guy, and he just likes talking to me.”

“Nice guys finish last,” Chase sneered. “Come with me.”

“I can’t,” I objected. “I’m still working!” Even though Chase was being an asshole about Mark, it still made me giggle. Thinking about Chase walking into the center and being covered with cute toddlers was the most difficult thing that I’d tried to imagine in my life. I had no idea how he’d act around kids, and I had a feeling that I didn’t want to find out. I snorted when I imagined Mark standing next to Chase; like me, I doubted Mark would stand taller than Chase’s massive shoulders. Still, I couldn’t help but feel flattered that someone like Chase would be jealous just because he saw me talking to Mark. I wasn’t even used to one guy talking to me; the idea of two guys fighting over me—no matter how horribly unmatched they’d be—was, admittedly, really flattering. I looked down with a trace of self-consciousness; I was wearing my favorite lavender sweater and I knew it made my boobs look big. But Chase wasn’t even looking.
Men
, I thought with irritation.
They only want you when someone else does, too
.

Chase looked from me to the center and back. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me out to the car. I started screaming and he immediately clapped his hand over my mouth, effectively silencing me. Behind his thick fingers, the only sounds I could muster sounded about as strong as a bunch of baby kittens.

He dragged me across the parking lot and threw me into the backseat of his car. Leaning over me, his huge frame blocked out all of the daylight. A single drop of sweat dripped down my back.
Is he going to rape me?
I wondered, feeling scared. I held my breath and watched as he reached down, expecting to see him rip my pants down or tear my shoes away, but he merely grabbed both of my ankles and shoved them in the backseat. I let out a long shaky breath when I realized he wasn’t going to touch me, but whatever sense of relief I’d had quickly turned back to panic after he got in the driver’s seat of the car and pulled away with a roar.