I didn't like to admit that my control was slipping. I didn't like to let myself drift too far or think too much about it. I knew my men hated me. I could feel it from their fiery gaze and bloodshot eyes whenever I passed by them. They followed me because they feared me. Me, a 24 years old, who somehow managed to take down the original head and founder of the black rose, who had it running for years, far older than me. Of course, they feared me. They feared the skills I possessed, my ruthlessness and ability to sacrifice anything. They hated me. And wished I'd burn alive.And now, it felt like every brick I'd placed upon the other, whatever wall I'd managed to build was coming down. There was a huge crack somewhere I couldn't see and it was tearing my every progress.I still remembered it all. I remembered the way he had looked at me in the eye and cracked a smile, with blood running from the corner of his mouth. I remembered how he had called me foolish when my knife was on his neck.
"Just some colleague from the station," Elias said with a casual shrug, but I could see in his eyes that there was more to it than that, "they seemed really close though, like they've known each other for years, he was asking all sorts of questions about where she'd gone and when she'd be back."My eyebrows pulled together as thoughts I didn't want to have started crawling through my mind like poison. Images of Jude with some faceless man who knew her well enough to worry when she disappeared, someone who had the right to ask questions about her whereabouts. The idea that she might have someone in her life, someone who cared about her in ways that went beyond professional concern, made something dark and ugly twist in my chest.I gritted my teeth and tried to focus on the papers in front of me, but the words blurred together as jealousy burned through my veins like acid. The thought of another man touching her, holding her, kissing her the way I had just minutes ago, made me want to p
I closed the door behind me with more force than necessary, and rested my head on it. My hand lingered on the handle as I tried to steady my breathing. The black dress shirt I'd thrown on hung loose and unbuttoned, but at least I was covered now, no longer standing half naked in front of the woman who'd already seen too much. My back still burned with phantom pain from where her eyes had traced the scars, the marks that told a story I'd never wanted anyone to read, especially not her.She'd seen them all, every raised line of scar tissue that crisscrossed my back like a roadmap of pain and survival, each one a reminder of lessons learned in the cruelest ways possible. The burns, the cuts, the marks left by chains and whips and things I'd spent years trying to forget, all laid bare under her shocked gaze. The look in her eyes when she'd whispered that question, "Who did that to you?" had nearly brought me to my knees with its gentle horror.I turned and pressed my back against the door
He had a white towel tied around his waist and his back was turned to me. His back had...there were so many scars. He turned towards me so quick, I could hardly make sense of what I saw on his back. He looked surprised and embarrassed and a little bit terrified. My eyebrows furrowed with concern as I brought my hands and intertwined my fingers behind my back and squeaked, "I'm sorry." It was so tiny, I could hardly recognize my own voice. I swallowed the lump in my throat and brought a hand to rub at the front of it. "Leave." He growled, his eyes hardening. He grasped the towel on his waist tighter and looked between me and the door, like he was contemplating how long it'll take for me to reach the door and how long he could kill me before I reached the door. A shiver of fear went through me, as I slowly backed away but I couldn't keep the whisper of thought that clouded my mind, "Who did that to you?"It didn't seem possible to be more terrifying than he already was, but he seemed
The day went by fast and I couldn't decide whether I should throw myself off the balcony, have the book that Elias gave to me flung against a wall or just fall unconscious. There had to be something I could do. It's been more than 24 hours now, I mean if anyone wanted murder me in my sleep, they'd have done it in the past hour. I wasn't that difficult to predict, I was always at home studying case files and drowning in self pity. And if I wasn't doing that, I was at the station or at a bar, Ava's bar. I rarely ever went anywhere else except Kyle had decided to drag me out. Kyle. He'd stop by my apartment today to see if what I gave as a excuse was true. I should call him, let him know I'm safe. But unfortunately for me and because the universe is an ass, I didn't have a phone currently. I blew out a breath and laid back on the couch I sat on. I was exhausted, anxious and I didn't want to admit this to myself, but I felt hopeless. I'd done so much to get clues and tips and now that I
"Elias gave it to me," I said, glancing down at the book without really seeing the title, "to pass time while I'm stuck here on my so-called vacation."Cassien nodded slowly, his blue eyes studying my face with an intensity that made my skin warm under his gaze. There was something different about him out here in the sunlight, something softer than the dangerous man I'd first encountered in that dark alley, and I found myself getting lost in the way the light caught the silver flecks in his eyes, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead when he leaned forward slightly.I could feel heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks, and I wanted to punch myself for reacting like a schoolgirl with a crush instead of the trained detective I was supposed to be. This was Cassien, the Maestro, the man who'd killed countless people and built an empire on violence and fear, yet here I was blushing because he was looking at me like I was something precious instead of just another problem to be