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Authors: Isabelle Drake

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No, his life was far from perfect, but considering how
things could’ve turned out, he was ready to pretend it was damn near close at
least for a couple hours.

Even though the wind was blowing harder than was actually
comfortable, the boulevard wasn’t empty. A couple strolled hand in hand,
swinging their arms as they walked. Four kids, bundled up so much they could
barely move, circled a lumpy snowman. The hat they’d brought for him was an
oversize straw sombrero embroidered with flowers, probably a souvenir from
Mexico someone was more than happy to get rid of. Across from them, an old man
sat on a bench, huddled into his coat and scratching his collie’s head.
Picture-perfect Back Bay Boston on a dark mid-December evening.

Snowmaggeddeon was a memory and the harsh blizzard was
forgotten. Soft, bright piles of snow and lighthearted stories about making do
with whatever was already in the refrigerator, the only lingering effects.
Looking at the scene now, a person would think nothing could ever go wrong here
in this row of distinguished brownstones.

A nasty burst of wind whipped across Hayden’s face, grabbing
his scarf from his neck, making it whip out in front of him. He tucked it back
into his coat, and started toward his place, thinking about whether he’d be
celebrating with a beer or if he’d finally open that bottle of Luis Felipe his
uncle had given him for graduating. Once he made that decision he’d call
Rachelle.

He was deciding whether to invite himself over to her place
or invite her to his when he spotted her coming down the steps that led up to
his apartment. She was carrying a cardboard box and keeping her gaze down, so
she could walk as fast as possible on the ice-covered steps.

“Hey,” he said when she nearly slammed into him.

She stopped short, looked up but did not smile. “Oh, hey.”

The sleeve of her favorite sweater hung down the side of the
box. Other things visible in the box included an old pair of sweatpants and a
pile of books. And her favorite coffee mug—the one she always drank out of
first thing in the morning when she spent the night.

So it was like that.

He’d made a mistake, thinking she was over what’d happened.
Hayden opened his mouth to apologize, again, for what he’d pulled her into, but
a voice from behind stopped him short.

“Yo, Hayden.”

A shiver ran up Hayden’s spine as Matthew brushed past him,
making a point to shove him off balance with his bony shoulder.

Rachelle’s gaze darted from the stuff in the box to Hayden’s
face to Matthew and then back to Hayden. “I’m— I—”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it, Hayden?” Matthew said, standing
beside Rachelle.

“Shut up,” Hayden replied. As soon as the words were out of
mouth he took a step back, out of Matthew’s quick reach. Then, to Rachelle, he
added, “Are you going somewhere with him?”

She shrugged but didn’t smile. “Semester’s over, I can just
hang out for a while. So, yeah, I am.”

He couldn’t help staring into the box. “Why?”

“I want to.” Her hair got caught in the wind and she reached
up to brush it from her face.

Hayden reeled, his stomach tensed and then rolled. “You’re
going back to the camp?”

“Yeah.” She shifted the box so it sat on her hip, creating a
barrier between her and Hayden. “It’s cool. They like me.”

Matthew put his hand on Rachelle’s back and guided her down
the steps.

When Rachelle reached the sidewalk, she turned and spoke
softly to Hayden, as though she was hoping Matthew wouldn’t hear her last
words. “I know about the tea, Hayden. Mattie told me. She told me everything.”

Matthew stopped short, his head pivoting slowly as he sought
out Hayden’s gaze. “You’re the one Mattie didn’t tell everything. Starting with
who she thought was going to replace you.” Matthew kissed Rachelle on the side
of the face. She smiled. It was a smile Hayden recognized, the same smile she’d
turned on him many times.

“Rachelle, you don’t remember what happened there.”

She blinked, and he knew he was right.

“Fuck off, Hayden.”

Together they reached a truck parked by the curb. The
battered green Chevy was parked between a black Audi A4 and a sleek Mercedes
wagon. Matthew took the box from Rachelle, put it in the truck bed, dug around
for something then came back with a coil of rope and a thermos. Rachelle drank
what was offered to her and then lifted her hands, putting her wrists together
to make it easier for him to bind them. He tied the knot efficiently. She
climbed into the truck cab, used both hands to slam the door, and then stared
straight ahead.

The effects of the tea were quick, and she was probably
already feeling them. At least that was the reason Hayden clung to for her not
taking one last look at him.

Mattie hadn’t lied to him. Rachelle was free to do as she
wanted. Obviously, Hayden hadn’t had any idea what his
girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—actually wanted.

Matthew leaned past Rachelle and turned to look out the
passenger window. Hayden saw the man’s face but not his eyes because Matthew’s
chin was lifted upward, his gaze fixed high above. He stayed that way, staring,
his body stiff as though he was waiting for something. Finally, he gave up
waiting and jerked his head around, started the truck, and hit the gas. The
engine rumbled and the tires rolled across the packed snow.

Hayden turned and lifted his head, looking for whatever was
worthy of Matthew’s time and attention. The doorway of the brownstone was
empty, the steps clear. Even though it was dark outside, it wasn’t that late,
so most of the windows of the building were yellow with light. There was
nothing unusual there, except a long narrow shadow on the roof. It wasn’t a
shadow, Hayden realized. It was
her
, lying across the steep roof, her
long legs stretched out behind her, her body still and stiff with cold, her
eyes growing green.

About Isabelle Drake

 

Thrill-seeking risk takers, heroes with a dark past, sexy
locales, untamed women! Isabelle Drake writes stories featuring men and women
who aren’t afraid to go after what they want. An avid traveler, she’ll go just
about anywhere—at least once—to meet people and get story ideas.

 

 

Isabelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

 

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Also by
Isabelle
Drake

 

By Request:
Cuckold by Request

By
Request: Roughneck by Request

Ellora’s
Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy IV
anthology

Everglades
Wildfire

Fate
Unbound

Hard Fall

Letting Off
Steam

Satisfaction
Guaranteed

Show and Tell

Undone by
the Undead

 

Print books by Isabelle Drake

 

Cowboy for
Hire

Ellora’s
Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy IV
anthology

Everglades
Wildfire

Hard Hats,
Hard Bodies
anthology

Satisfaction
Guaranteed

Steamy
Afternoons
anthology

 

 

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

 

 

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

 

 

Servicing the Undead

 

ISBN 9781419942303

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Servicing the Undead Copyright © 2012 Isabelle Drake

 

Edited by Shannon Combs

Cover design by Fiona Jayde

Photo: Margarita Borodina/Shutterstock.com

 

Electronic book publication November 2012

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

 

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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the
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