Web of Deceit (The Deceptive Lo - Lauren Reign

Table of Contents Excerpt Web of Deceit Copyright Dedication Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Epilogue A word about the author… Other Books You Might Enjoy Also Available

Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, tapping my fingers against the hard counter. He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sorry?” “Or a wife or something?” I add just in case. I haven’t seen a ring on his finger, but Jaxxon doesn’t strike me as someone who would wear jewelry even if he were taken. He places both palms on the island, leaning toward me slightly, scowling. “Kalli, I get that you don’t know me very well, so let me inform you on the kind of man I am. I am not the kind of man who if I had a good woman waiting on me, I would be sharing a roof with another woman. I am not the kind of man that

would spend my time protecting you if my woman were alone, unprotected, someplace else. And I am definitely not the kind of man who would call someone who wasn’t his woman ‘gorgeous.’ You get me?” His comment would be seriously erotic, if he didn’t look so chilling while saying it. It’s annoying that he can’t just smile and have a normal conversation. “I’m surprised, I mean with your lovely, sunny disposition and all…” I mumble, while jumping off the chair. A knock on the door has both our heads turning.

Web of Deceit by Lauren Reign The Deceptive Lovers Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Web of Deceit COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Lauren Reign All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information: [email protected]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile The Wild Rose Press, Inc. PO Box 708 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Crimson Rose Edition, 2016 Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0593-6 Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0594-3 The Deceptive Lovers Series Published in the United States of America

Dedication Mom, You have blessed me with a beautiful life consisting of very few dark days, but even in the best of times you are the life raft I would surely drown without.

Prologue Excruciating pain radiates throughout my entire body. Opening my eyes proves to be more difficult than normal; my heavy lids refuse to cooperate. A hammering, pulsating force inside my skull is by far the most powerful headache I’ve ever experienced. My sandpaper tongue roughly scrapes against the tacky roof of my mouth, desperate for hydration, and my neck is so stiff that I’m not sure I can lift my head up. Jesus, how much wine did I consume last night? This is definitely going to compete for one of the worst hangovers I’ve ever experienced. As I try to shake the haze from my

mind, the tickling sensation of liquid drips down my nose. I raise my hand to wipe away whatever cuteness is running down my face, silently praying that I’m alone and no one is here to witness this embarrassment. But my hands don’t move toward my face as planned. They don’t move at all. Am I paralyzed? I pull back harder, the pressure of something sharp digging into my wrists causing a muffled moan. Shooting pain, signaling that I can in fact feel my extremities, explodes across my shoulder and down my arm. I have never been in so much pain in my entire life, and I’m no wimp.

Okay, so it’s safe to say that this isn’t the result of the hangover from hell. It takes multiple rapid blinks for my blurry eyes to finally clear. My bare, pale legs are first to come into my double vision. Bare, if you don’t take into consideration the coat of dirt and blood that is blanketing them, dripping off to the floor. My ankles, crossed awkwardly over one another, are tied together with what looks like a yellow plastic zip tie. Blood oozes out around where the plastic has wedged its way into my flesh. These are the first horrific images I see because my neck is bent forward in the most unnatural position that not even my sadistic yoga teacher would force

upon me. Lifting my head is torturous but necessary. I can’t move my hands because they are tied behind my back. I wiggle my fingers only to discover that they aren’t touching, so I must be tethered to the chair poles. My earlier feeble attempt at freeing myself has failed partly because I can only wiggle my right arm. My left arm is apparently protesting all orders. It’s like the limb is no longer connected to the rest of my body. I immediately halt all movement, trying in vain to alleviate any of this throbbing that is radiating from every inch of me. My heart hammers inside my chest, cheeks tingling with anxiety as I finally process this mess. I’m in some sort of

cellar. Everything is black concrete, except for the floor, which is a mixture of rocks and dirt. The walls, floors, and even the ceiling appear to be black. The only light illuminating my sight is seeping from a tiny, high set, blacked out window and from a slight crack at the bottom of a closed door. A door that has no doorknob. If awakening in this black crypt tied to a freaking chair in almost complete darkness isn’t scary enough, I’m also completely naked. I don’t even want to think about why I’m naked right now, or how I got this way. I rack my brain trying to remember where I was before or how I got here, anything at all, but I’m completely blank.

I know that my name is Kalliope Winters. I wouldn’t know my name if I had amnesia, would I? Adrenaline must be clouding my senses because the blinding pain has miraculously dissipated. That, or my battered body is going into shock. It isn’t until I finally go to scream bloody murder that I realize that my mouth is taped shut. This has to be a dream. Dreams are the only place where nightmares like this belong. “Kalli, look at me.” A scratchy, menacing voice echoes deep from the dark corner. I awkwardly tilt my head as much as my fragile neck will allow, frantically

searching with my eyes. He enters my view as he steps away from the wall. He blended in perfectly with our pitch black surroundings, wearing all the same colored clothing. Shoes, gloves, pants, and sweatshirt are all black. He didn’t even catch my eye before, but he’s been here the entire time, watching. My eyes don’t leave him as blind panic kicks in causing me to yank as hard as I can on the restraints as he slinks closer. Nothing compares to the kind of terror a person feels when they are vulnerable, wounded, and unable to fight back. Loud heaves leave my nose as I struggle to get enough air. A whimpering that I can’t control erupts from behind

my duct-taped mouth. I’ve officially never been this frightened. Defeat creeps over me as I get nowhere with my battle against the restraints. I decide to go against everything I am, stop all movement, and just look up at him, giving him what he demanded. He moves to within two feet of me, leaning forward so that he is directly in my line of vision, yet I still can’t clearly make out his facial features because the only light is blocked by his back. He’s white though. This I know for sure because I can see a small sliver of his arm exposed between his glove and sleeve. “I warned him to stay away from

you, told him that you are mine.” His emotionless tone has my body shuddering in fear. His nasty breath, a mixture of whiskey and stale beer, hinders my breathing further. “But he chose not to listen,” he continues, extending his hand toward my face, then pulling it back right before touching me. I have zero clue what this psycho is referring to. The thundering of footsteps clang above us, shaking the ceiling. We both look up, tracking the sound. “Today you learn the consequences of his choice.” His view doesn’t falter from above as he speaks. He stands and slowly positions

himself back into the darkness, blending in chameleon style. The sound of splintering wood echoes in the silence. Dizziness tilts my world leaving me no choice but to finally shut my eyes. I’m struggling to maintain consciousness as my entire body sags forward, listlessly. It’s amazing the amount of strength it takes to hold up your own body, but I guess that’s not something you appreciate until you have no strength left. I can physically feel my organs shutting down with each struggled breath. I’m going to die here. A loud blast echoes against the walls as the knobless door to my dungeon of

torture is decimated, my eyes opening in time to see pieces of wood sailing through the air in all directions. Light and dust fill this dark place, but my body doesn’t even flinch at the commotion. I use every ounce of energy I have left to make eye contact with my savior. I can’t believe he found me. “Dollface,” Colton whispers, like a prayer. An emotion I’ve never seen him display before is etched on his beautiful face. Terror. His 9mm pistol is drawn in front of him, gripped tight in his hand as he enters the room. His eyes leave mine only momentarily as he stops to assess me and take in our surroundings. As he

strides forward, I notice movement behind him. My eyes go wide as I grunt and shake my head, desperate for Colton to realize that the crazy asshole who brought me here is behind him. He tilts his head slightly to the side as he tries to understand what I want. It’s only now, in this life-altering second, that I can’t control the tears from streaming down my cheeks. This can’t be happening. His striking gray eyes are connected with mine when three loud consecutive pops erupt, gunshots. I feel a fiery burn rip through my shoulder, the added agony sucking up all the fight I have left. Everything morphs into slow motion, my mind seeing a slideshow of flashes

instead of fluid motion. I see Colton’s face grimace as a roar rips from his throat. He drops his gun at my feet as he slowly falls to his knees, his eyes closing as he soundlessly drops face forward onto the floor. I watch helplessly as blood pools around him, a bright crimson pond in this sea of black. My head slumps forward as my eyes flutter shut. “Hold on, honey,” a voice I haven’t heard in years pleads. “Okay, Mom,” I reply in my head, as darkness pulls me under.

Chapter 1 Three days earlier I’m not sure why I still come here knowing that my abused body just can’t hang. I mean, I love what exercise does for my mind, calming my insanity, but sixty minutes of demanding hot yoga is just ridiculous. There’s only so much a girl can put her body through after polishing off a bottle of chardonnay the night before or maybe two. Yes, two bottles. Don’t judge me, it’s been a rough week. I am sitting on my flamingo pink mat in the back row of Yogi’s yoga studio as I send out my SOS text to Colton. Me: Emergency yoga evacuation in thirty?

He responds instantly, as usual. Colton: You’re a pain in my ass. Yes, I totally am, but I’ll make it up to him later. Yogi’s, the location of my current torture, is in the heart of downtown Tampa. It is run by a lady named Yogi, a fifty-year-old firecracker, nutbag, drill sergeant diva who demands that every single client stay for the entire duration of her class. Her sessions are brutal, but she’s the bomb, so it’s always a fight to get a spot. Her classes are legendary around Tampa because anyone who tries to leave early without a legitimate excuse that has been provided before the start will get publicly shamed by her. And I do mean shamed.

That is why I come here, the pure entertainment value of it. There are always at least two clients who can’t handle it and try to sneak out early, and I crave the hilarity of what the Yogi beast will fire at them. Just last week, Big Willie Style (I have no idea what his real name was), otherwise known as the very tall, very built, very attractive black man on the mat next to me, tried to meander his way out around the forty-five minute mark. And by meander I mean slowly shifting his mat toward the door while awkwardly holding a downward dog. Big Willie was clearly privy to Yogi’s antics and was trying to make his escape unscathed. Fortunately for me, and the

rest of the bystanders, he had no such luck. He was so close to freedom and almost out the door when Yogi snapped her head up, a sharp glare aimed directly at him. “Hey!” she boomed. “Do you have diarrhea? Are you suffering from a sudden bout of irritable bowel syndrome?” She raises her nose into the air and sniffs three times for effect. “Because I don’t smell anything. I will gladly provide you with an adult diaper next class, in fact, I might make everyone wear one to insure there’s no interruption. How does everyone feel about that?” A collective groan erupted around the room. Big Willie has yet to make a return

appearance, which is a shame because he was fantastic eye candy. Luckily, Yogi’s diaper threat was just that. This is precisely why I need Colton to execute an emergency evacuation today. He is going to be my legitimate excuse. As much as I loved hearing the randomness that comes out of her mouth, I don’t want to be an active participant in one of her shows. Plus, that’s what best friends do, they bail you out of ridiculous situations no questions asked, and Colton Brady has been mine for twenty years, and my roommate for nine. At six foot three with dark brown hair cropped short, striking light gray

eyes, a ridiculously stacked body of ripped muscles, an all-American face women fall over themselves for, and dimples for days, he is the definition of a catch. At twenty-seven, the same age as me, he has graduated from the University of Tampa top of our class, been recruited by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and is currently employed as a special agent in the South Florida region. Besides being gorgeous, he is also a total mama’s boy, so he knows how to treat a lady. Long term commitment has never been his thing, but he is some kind of breakup wizard. I kid you not, they should seriously give this man a gold statue. I’ve seen him break hearts, then sooth that same heart in his arms as they

cried over losing him until they were emotionally ready to be shown the front door. How he mastered this I have no idea, but he doesn’t have one crazy ex stalking him, and for a man who looks like he does that is a huge feat. Now I, on the other hand am messy, and I have a train wreck of broken relationships behind me to prove it. I am the relationship equivalent of a mud slide, demolishing anything in my path, and leaving an irreversible mess in my wake. Colton says it’s because I haven’t dated the right man yet, I just think I haven’t found the one that can handle all my crazy, other than my best friend that is. He can rein in my cracked personality like a pro. He is my rock, and I love him

something fierce. He is the brother I never had, my protector, and now my only family. And that’s why I know that on his first day off in two weeks he will get his butt out of bed and walk the three blocks from our condo to save me from Yogi’s torture. I’m sweating my ass off in plank position when the bell of the door opening chimes behind me. A smile forms on my face, I know it’s Colton without having to turn around. No one else would have the balls to interrupt Yogi. Everyone quickly looks to see who dares to disturb today. Okay, so I may have set Colton up a

bit by asking this favor since I didn’t tell Yogi at the beginning of class, but he can handle it. As I turn to look with everyone else, I notice that he’s not in his usual Sunday attire. He’s sporting his blackout RayBan aviators, a white button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gray slacks and black dress shoes. This is definitely not his day-off outfit of choice. “Sorry, Yogi,” he says, as he glances at his watch, then to me. “Kalli has my dick on a strict ovulation schedule today, and I don’t have a lot of time. If she’s as desperate as she acts for my spectacular sperm, then we have to leave now.” A cocky smirk is plastered on his angel face.

My mouth drops open in shock as I hear the snickers of my fellow yoga mates. Spectacular sperm? He did not just say that! Looks like I’m going to be the show today after all. Crap. Never one to back down from a challenge, he knows better than to play this game with me. Keeping eye contact with Colton, I reply in the sweetest voice I can muster, “Baby, you’re usually so fast to finish anyway.” Turning back toward the class I continue, “But they do have a longer than average swim, if you know what I mean.” I wink, and shrug my shoulders.

Yup, I went there. Throughout the years of us living together, there have been situations, mostly involving whiskey, where I’ve been graced with the sight of Colton’s naked body, so I know firsthand that my insinuated insult has no merit. But the man has an inflated ego, so I’m sure it burns regardless. Laughter erupts as Colton’s grin fades into a thin line, his eyes turning stormy with agitation. Shit, he won’t be coming to my rescue anytime soon after this. Sure he’s doing me a favor, and I should have played nice, but that’s not my style. He moves swiftly toward me, grabbing my arm.

Yogi claps her hands twice gaining everyone’s attention, including mine. Her attention, unfortunately, is directly on me. Oh shit. “Kalli, are you going to drop your pants and bend over so he can mount you right here? I mean, I do appreciate a good show, and he is a stallion after all, so make it as fast as you alluded to so we can get back to class.” A defining silence falls on the studio as everyone stares at Colton and I. I’m now officially uncomfortable. I feel him squeeze the crap out of my arm, signaling that he’s also ready to get the hell out of Dodge. I hang my tail between my legs, gather my belongings,

raise my hand in an awkward wave, and mumble a “Sorry,” as Colton drags me out the door. I jiggle his arm off as we exit left onto a bustling Tampa street. My hangover symptoms are multiplying by the second, a miserable mixture of nausea and stomach pain. The added stress of the show we just performed is also not helping my cause. My goal is to get back to the condo and back into bed as soon as possible. On top of the humiliation I just suffered, I feel like I might vomit. “Was that necessary?” I bite out, as he steps in line beside me. His devilish grin is back in place, showing off those distracting dimples. Anyone who ever

said that good-looking men don’t have it easier in this world have definitely never had the pleasure of meeting a specimen like Colton Brady. Ugh, those dimples are hard to stay mad at and he knows it! “No, but it was the most fun I’ve had all week.” “Yeah, real freaking fun,” I grumble as we approach our building. Thank God it’s a quick walk. I can feel my stomach churning, clearly rejecting the bagel I inhaled earlier. “Hot date?” I gesture toward his clothing. It’s been months since I’ve seen him with a woman, but his case load has been stacked lately. He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I

have to go into the office for a few hours. Jaxxon is taking a look at a few files for me from Quantico, and I need to see if he’s found anything.” Even though my interest is piqued at the mention of Jaxxon, I learned a long time ago that when it comes to his cases he doesn’t tell me more than necessary. He’s always told me that I have enough crap running through my mind, and he didn’t need to add to it. I spend a lot of time alone at the condo and late nights at my bar, so I guess I don’t need the added horrors of the real world crimes he deals with. I’m not ashamed to admit that sleep with a butcher knife under my nightstand when I’m by myself, you know, just in

case. I don’t see the big deal. No one has ever stated, “Jeez, I wish I hadn’t left that knife next to me for easy access,” after they had been attacked. “It’s not normal to keep a twelveinch butcher knife hidden in your room, Kalli,” Colton would grumble. “Normal is just a setting on a dishwasher, Colton,” I would reply, terminating the conversation. He can judge all he wants, but I felt safer with it there. I ultimately blame my unfounded paranoia on Unsolved Mysteries, with their creeptastic music and sinister sounding host. I love watching old school reruns of that show, but it definitely caused a shiver or two. “Ah.” I nod. “So that means no

Sunday funday with me then?” I look up, giving him my famous pout face. This face has worked wonders for me, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Colton unfortunately knows this tactic well. Hell, he was the one who informed me it worked. You would think that living with your best friend would guarantee you lots of quality time, but between jobs, relationships, and the everyday mundane tasks life requires, Colton and I didn’t get to spend all that much time together. I schedule myself off from the bar every Sunday so that we can relax on the couch and catch up on our favorite DVR shows, which is only an acceptable activity to waste an entire day doing if

someone else is present. Colton usually always has Sunday off unless he is away on assignment or is knee deep in an open case. He stops, pivoting directly in front of me. “Aw, you’re whipping out the pout on me?” He reaches out and gently strokes my cheek. “Sorry, dollface, you know I wouldn’t go in if it wasn’t important. I promise I’ll make it up to you next weekend.” A strained half smile forms on his face. His playful demeanor from our Yogi adventure has taken a drastic nose dive. I’ve noticed that he’s been more distracted than normal these past few weeks, but I figured it was work related.

Hearing him say that he’s asked Jaxxon for help solidifies those thoughts. Jaxxon isn’t Colton’s first call in a crisis. “Ugh. Fine.” I wave both hands in the air, sighing dramatically for effect, then sending a wink his way. He knows I understand the unpredictability of his career choice and just enjoy busting his balls. I’m just surprised it involves Jaxxon, his twin brother, the man who has starred in every single adolescent and adult fantasy I’ve ever had. Jaxxon is a wildcard you play when you’ve exhausted all other options. He’s also a man who despises me. Competing with Jaxxon for Colton’s time isn’t something that is new to me,

but I haven’t had to deal with it in forever. Colton and I were always close, but when we were both eighteen tragedy rocked my world, making him the only family I had. Four months before our high school graduation, my life was fractured by the sudden death of my parents. The two most loving people I’ve ever known were just gone. Poof. A freak car accident is what they declared it. An accident. I’m not sure why they call them accidents when lives are lost. They should be called destructions. It destroyed my family, destroyed my

happiness, and destroyed my soul. It is crazy how one literal second can change the course of the future. My parents were both only children. Mom’s parents passed from natural causes when I was in middle school. Dad had never been close with his, choosing his new wife over supporting his father’s many addictions, so they might still be on this earth, but they haven’t been a part of my life since I was little. My parents were literally all the family I had. It was a perfect sunny day, maybe eighty-one degrees, with not a cloud in sight. The crystal clear blue sky is literally the only part of that day I remember besides being informed by

two police officers that my parent’s car had been rear-ended, pushing them head on into oncoming traffic, taking both their lives instantly. They said I could take comfort in knowing that they didn’t suffer. I told them to get the fuck out of my house. The months that followed that day are a complete blur. In a haze of fury and agony, lawyers informed me that I had to sell my family home to pay debts my parents had on other properties, the bar they owned mainly, so I was essentially homeless. I loved our home, but staying in it alone with memories smacking me in the face at every turn wasn’t something I could handle, so I let them do what they had to

do. The bar was more important to me anyway. Colton was my saving grace. A darkness came over me that I couldn’t push away on my own, a darkness I’m not sure I would have survived without his constant presence. He held my hand through every fit of rage, every meltdown, and essentially took control of my life. He decided to forgo his plans of moving into the dorms with a few of his buddies and found us the perfect condo, downtown, within walking distance to campus. He spent countless nights cuddled with me on the couch, when all our friends were out celebrating our impending graduation. He sacrificed the

end of his senior year to hold me together. He also understood my pain first hand, having lost his father in the line of duty when he and Jaxxon were ten. His dad, Frank, had been a fifteen-year veteran of the Tampa Police Department when a traffic stop turned violent, taking his life. Colton didn’t talk about it often, but I know that his death influenced him to work as hard as he did to join the FBI. Both Colton and Jaxxon stepped up, remaining tough for their mother Gloria, not that she needed it. Gloria was a worrier. She was also one of the sweetest women I’ve ever encountered. She adored me, telling me she always wanted a daughter, and was

one of the only people who truly understood the dynamic between Colton and I. She took me into her home, no questions asked, giving me her love and giving her son the time he needed to heal his best friend in close quarters. She saw that our friendship was deep, but she also realized that it was innocent. She was my lifejacket when I was drowning in depression, and her son was my superhero when I wasn’t sure if being in this life without my family was something I wanted. Their tag team effort saved my life. I knew Jaxxon questioned every action Colton and Gloria made when it came to me. To be honest, I don’t even remember him being around all that

much those months I lived with them, but my retention of detail during that period is slim. He just didn’t understand how much I needed both of them, or maybe he did and he resented me for it. Colton lost countless girlfriends due to our friendship. Society in general didn’t understand how two attractive people could be as close and we were and have zero sexual attraction to each other. I only fueled their fire by never answering any of their damn questions. They could suck it as far as I was concerned. As twins go, Colton and Jaxxon were the worst I’d ever seen. They seriously could not have more contradicting personalities. Colton was outgoing,

approachable, and generally in a cheerful mood, exactly like Gloria. He was Mr. Social when we were younger, and that has never changed. Women adored him, threw themselves at him at every turn, and men respected him. Jaxxon on the other hand was not going to win the Mr. Congeniality award anytime soon. Some considered him a quiet observer, always aware of everything that was going on around him and in control. His darkness was annoying as hell yet completely captivated my attention right away. Even as a young girl, I found his temperament intriguing. I craved his attention, and that only got worse as puberty hit and he transformed into a sexy brooding beast,

but I was never more than a blip on his radar. He was the epitome of a bad boy, not caring about anyone’s opinion. Girls treated him like a king, and guys considered him a badass. I never saw him overindulge in alcohol or partake is any of our adolescent debauchery, but he was always around keeping tabs on his brother, ready to intervene if needed. They were somewhat bonded, but weren’t twins supposed to finish each other’s sentences, share bunk beds, and be thick as thieves? Yeah, that never happened with these two. Now their looks were an absolutely different story. They were identical, and by identical I mean that no one would

have been able to tell the difference between the two if they were standing side by side if Jaxxon didn’t have a small half-inch-long scar near his right eyebrow from an ice cream truck mishap when he was eight, and if they didn’t have drastically different colored eyes. Jaxxon’s were a dark, midnight black, while Colton’s were light gray. When Jaxxon would aggravate me with his indifference or a blatant brushoff, I would shout at him that eye color is a direct reflection of someone’s soul. He never once refuted my claim. He actually never spoke much to me at all, but occasionally I would catch those dangerously sexy eyes lingering on

me longer than necessary. So to say I didn’t think Jaxxon was my biggest fan would be the understatement of the century, and to this day I have no idea why he loathed me so much. It used to sting, but my longing for his acceptance lessoned as his absence grew. He would comment that Colton and I were too connected, too involved in each other’s lives, that we drank too much and that I was too much of a distraction. This had always caused tension between them. Colton was very protective of me and didn’t put up with anyone, including his twin brother, disrespecting me. I hated being the cause of tension between the two, but Gloria

explained that it was just how two alpha males functioned under one roof. I would have killed to have had a sibling, so watching them fight chipped away at my core. Jaxxon also thought we were secret lovers. Shit, he probably still does. Instead of staying in Tampa like Colton and I, Jaxxon decided on a different path and was recruited for the Marines right out of high school. After three tours of deployment and receiving his degree in criminal justice he also joined the Bureau a year after Colton at twenty-five. He worked in Quantico, Virginia, and I didn’t see him often. As we reach the front door to our condo, I’m stopped short by Colton

grabbing my arm, the quick jerking sensation further upsetting my already volatile stomach. As he tugs me back toward him I already know what he’s doing, my best friend wants a hug. He’s a total hugger, a maximum contact man in general. He says a hug is the best way to feel our heartbeats together. He’s a total softy. Me? Not so much. But I no longer cringed at the affection he showers me with, instead wrapping my arms back around him, placing my face on his defined chest. He insists on showing me the affection I’m missing out on from the loss my parents. He’s almost a foot taller than me so his massive frame hides me completely.

After a few beats he loosens his embrace, pulling back just enough for me to tilt my head up at his face. I can tell that he’s waiting on my move. I sigh. “It’s fine, Colton. I feel like total dog shit anyway and just want to consume a cocktail of Benadryl and Pepto and pass out for the afternoon.” I release him but slide my hands down his arms until they catch his hands. Looking into his mesmerizing gray eyes I say, “Go save a life, I have a date with TiVo.” I smile at him as I release him and walk up the stoop alone. As I push the door open he says, “Later we are going to discuss why you felt the need to empty two bottles of wine by yourself last night, Kalli.”

Great. Just what I wanted to do tonight, explain my current emotionally fragile state. Ignoring his comment I mumble, “Always.” As the door shuts behind me I faintly hear, “Always.” Colton started saying “always” to me when we were ten. I figured out early on that it was his way of saying “I love you” while sparing me further criticism for our friendship. It stuck throughout the years, and now it is all we need.

Chapter 2 After a restless Benadryl-induced nap, I settled on the couch to partake in my trusty hangover cure cocktail consisting of hours of mindless house renovation television and gallons of PowerAde hydration. A loud knock on the front door interrupts my current lazy state. I groan as I drag my pajama covered rear from my comfortable cocoon of blankets and swing the front door open. A stocky, and by stocky I mean a no taller than four foot eleven, plump older man stands in front of me holding a pizza. His supremely pale skin makes the shine on his bald head more prominent, a killer handlebar mustache in place. This

dude looks like Luigi from Super Mario Brothers, and it’s totally awesome. Before he can even get a word out, I hold up my hand. “Not mine. Wrong door buddy.” As I go to close the door in his face, he stammers, “W-w-wait! There’s a card!” He holds the pizza on the palm of one hand as he grabs an envelope off the top of it with his other, awkwardly shoving it at me. Confused I ask, “There’s a card… with a pizza delivery?” Luigi nods his head without speaking. Okay then. I grab the envelope out of his hand and rip it open.

Forgive me.—Justin I stare at the note in complete disbelief. This can’t be for real. I shove Luigi to the side, looking down the hallway both ways, then looking at the ceiling, then around my door entry. “I’m being punked, right?” I say to no one in particular. “There has to be a camera somewhere,” I mumble as I continue my hunt for some sign that this is indeed a horrible practical joke. I look like a lunatic, but I don’t care. Realization dawns on me that it can’t be a friend playing a prank on me because I have yet to confide in anyone about what happened, and I don’t have any cruel friends who would find humor in my current heartache. I grab the pizza

and toss it on our granite kitchen counter that is within reach. As I go for my purse I hear behind me, “Tip’s already taken care of. Enjoy, lady.” By the time I turn around he’s long gone. Curious, I open the box to see a pepperoni, stuffed-crust pizza, my favorite. The gesture would be considered somewhat cute, if it wasn’t made by my ex-boyfriend. A boyfriend who is an ex because I caught him seven inches deep inside his secretary not even one week ago when I went to surprise him with lunch from the bar. The sight had gutted me, watching someone I had started to let into my life plow into his hired help like I wasn’t even an afterthought.

And he sends me a freaking pizza? Seriously? Yup, these are the winners that I pick to date. So much for a relaxing Sunday funday. Now I itch to get out of this place. I need the distraction of my baby, my bar. **** Walking through the front doors of Tapped That, my nose is instantly assaulted with the sweet smell of mahogany, beer, and bleach, my utmost favorite combination. Smells like home. This bar has the ability to center me even on my worst of days. My parents started it from the ground up with a dream and a prayer. I spent my

childhood here, and most of my beloved memories of them happened within these walls. Some would find the constant reminiscence daunting, like they were at my childhood house, but it was different here. I found it comforting. And yes, I named my bar Tapped That. My mother was definitely sighing from her grave when she heard that’s what I was going to change the name to, and my dad was laughing beside her. He would love it because he totally got me, and he appreciated a good play on words. They had originally named it Tapped Out, which wasn’t a bad name, but what can I say? I was twenty-one, and thought

the new name was witty. Tampa residents seemed to agree as we are always busy even if we didn’t have the cheapest specials of the night. Tapped That had a killer location on Howard Avenue, a street that over the years has transformed into bar row. It was just pure luck that my dad picked this spot to completely gut an old colonial house and try his hand at bar ownership. He had done everything himself, and I was damn proud of all he had accomplished. I tried to change as little as possible from when he first opened. He had made the layout square and open, easy for servers and patrons to maneuver even in the biggest of crowds. Lining the front

walls are black leather booths that could easily accommodate a group of six. Two restored pool tables are located near the far right hand wall, and new tall standing tables are scattered throughout the middle. The rectangular bar was located against the back wall in the center of all the action. It wasn’t fancy; it was comfortable. My favorite feature of the bar, something that I would never alter, is the ceiling. It is covered in old license plates customers have brought in over the years. Some were funny, some were sentimental, and some were just added because friends wanted a piece of themselves to be a permanent fixture in the bar. It is awesome. My mom enjoyed

crafting in all forms, and this was her greatest creation. She used to get so excited when a customer would walk in with a plate in hand to add. She would hoot and holler, ring the bell next to the register, and immediately get out the ladder. “What are you doing here tonight?” Harper, my close friend, and best bartender, asks as she pops up from behind the bar, pulling me from my memories. Crap, I should have known she would question why I was here. She is the only other person who I am truly close to besides Colton. Harper Sloan is the yin to my yang. With her gorgeous jet black hair

hanging long and straight down her back, her stunning emerald eyes framed with thick black lashes, and a natural yearround olive tan, her looks make her completely mesmerizing. She is a triple threat, and men flocked to this bar because of it. She is an ocean of tits and ass, and tonight the girls are out on full display which means only one thing, her rent is due. She is by far my best bartender, able to handle even the rowdiest of crowds, and her sales are killer. I consider her my spirit animal, extremely independent, relying on nobody but herself and totally fearless of this world. We met five years ago at a

Halloween party. I was so jaded when it came to meeting any new females because it was my experience that they were either completely rude or clung to me like Saran Wrap trying to get an in with Colton, so I didn’t expect much to come from our introduction. She had shocked the shit out of me, surveying me up and down before pointing to the pack of wolves in the corner. “Are you in that sorority?” she questioned. I look toward the snarling beasts, congregating in a circle, cackling loudly. “No.” “Are you in any sorority?” “No.” At my second no, I was graced with her megawatt smile. It was magnificent,

transforming her face completely. “Sweet! Tequila shots it is then,” she declared, as she dragged my ass into the kitchen to steal some booze from whoever’s house we were at. I knew she was the shit right away, but our bond wasn’t solidified until later on that same night when we left the house party and made our way to a local bar called Outpost. We walked in, arm in arm, as I steered us toward the smoking hot bartender, a bartender who I happened to be dating. He was busy counting the money that was in his hand, so I jumped up on the high chair and leaned across the bar to get his attention. I’ll never forget the look on Matt’s face as he turned, his eyes moving frantically

from side to side, flashing between Harper and I. She had parked herself in the chair next to me. What followed was a lot of “How? Umm, ahhs” and an abundance of stuttering. It turned out that Harper and I were both dating Matt, we just both didn’t know it. Normally, this would have made us mortal enemies; instead it bonded us even closer. That night, as we moved on to another bar, we both moved on from Matt. A few months later, around Christmas, I realized she was my kindred spirit. She lacked a biological family like me but not from death. She didn’t share much about her past. I just knew that it wasn’t pretty and her family life was less than pleasant growing up.

She has a sister named Sage, but I could never tell if they were close. “Just wanted to come get payroll done early,” I lie, hoping she will let it slide. “Payroll? On a Sunday night?” I’ve done payroll routinely on Tuesday nights since she started working here three years ago. “Yes,” I snap. “Are you working for free now? Volunteering to keep the alcoholics of Tampa Bay sufficiently hammered for the thrill of it? Yes, payroll. Jeez.” Harper raises her hands in surrender. “All righty, boss,” she hisses at me. “Sorry I care enough to notice that something is off with my friend when

she shows up at work, unannounced, dragging complete ass, looking like her freaking dog died. And you, Kalliope Winters, do not have a dog!” she shouts, point her finger at my face. I remain silent as she slams the register shut, grabs a rag, and starts roughly wiping down the other end of the bar top. Dammit, I seriously need to get myself in check. Deciding to leave this argument before either of us spews any more crap we don’t mean, I make my way past the bar, through the swinging door and down the back hallway toward my office. The solitude will do me some good. As I push my office door open,

Harper’s voice halts my movements. “Oh, by the way, Justin was in earlier looking for you. He seemed desperate to know your whereabouts, well, more desperate than normal. I called to warn you, but your phone went straight to voicemail.” Mentally exhausted, I lean both hands against the door for leverage. “What did you tell him?” I ask quietly. “I told him that if you are in fact avoiding him, then I’m the last person who would help him out….and that his shirt was fucking ugly.” My stomach bunches as I struggle to suppress a giggle. Now that is why I love this girl. She knows that if I cut communication with Justin, he must have

seriously messed up. She’s never been a big fan of his, or Abercrombie, as she calls him. She stated that he deserved the nickname because he’s “too pretty to ever want to build you shit with his bare hands, and too much of a sissy to ever have any fun.” She is right though. Justin doesn’t own a toolbox, nor does he like any activity that involves his getting dirty. Harper also judges all men based on the kind of drink they order from her. When Justin first came to the bar, he ordered a margarita on the rocks, with salt…Yeah, he never stood a chance. “Thanks, girly,” I reply softly, as I push the door open to my safe haven.

Chapter 3 As my eyes connect with the decorative clock mounted on my office wall, I’m genuinely shocked at the time. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts tonight that I hadn’t even realized the end of the night had crept up on me. Crap, it is past closing already. My desk is a jumbled disaster of scattered papers that I haven’t touched. I had good intentions of getting payroll done, placing a liquor order, and filing some of this dysfunction away, but my brain wouldn’t slow down long enough for me to be able to concentrate on anything substantial. No, instead I watched Bad Boys on Netflix and drank a glass of wine like a

responsible bar owner. Of course this is something I could have done at home, but this office has the unique ability to calm my restlessness when Colton isn’t around to keep my mind from hamsterwheeling my shitty week. I am sitting cross legged in my chair, elbow resting on desk, head in hand, when a knock on my door sounds. I assume it’s Harper dropping off the deposit and letting me know she’s leaving since last call is at one a.m. on Sundays. “Come in!” I shout. As the door opens, I see the last person I want in my oasis. Justin. He looks like crap. Well, as crappy

as a devastatingly pretty man can look. His usually flawlessly styled dirty blonde hair is a disheveled mess, pointing in all directions. Dark circles mar his perfect features, and his complexion is paler than normal. Good. Jerk deserves it. He doesn’t move to enter my cluttered office, instead opting to rest his left shoulder against the door frame, hands firmly planted in his pockets, slightly slouching forward, making him look shorter than his six foot one stature. He has on dark blue jeans with a light gray polo. I almost smile because he must have changed whatever shirt he was sporting earlier. No way would

Harper have commented on this basic polo. His eyes are set on me, cautious, weary, trying to get a read. Like he’s a hunter waiting to see what his prey’s next movement will be. Or maybe I just feel like a trapped animal because he’s blocking my only exit. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, after realizing I’m not going to speak first, giving me a thin lined smile. I haven’t seen him in six days, effectively avoiding all contact since discovering him in the throes with his employee, and the sight of him now stings. There aren’t many people in this world who I let into my bubble. I know I’m a hard person to get close to, but he was getting there. This is why I despise relationships.

Betrayal hurts, burns deep into the skin leaving a permanent mark no matter how invested you are with someone. I close my eyes, holding in my breath in order to stay completely still. Harper and I used to play this game in college where if creepy guys came up to us, and we weren’t in the mood to deal with them, one of us would yell out, “Tyrannosaurus Rex!” and we would both close our eyes and completely freeze. Then after a few seconds the other would whisper, “If you don’t move, then they can’t see us.” This, of course, usually got us called a few not so creative adjectives as they scattered away, but they did always go away, so we kept playing.

I’m hopeful this tactic will work with Justin right now, so I wait. “Come on, Kalli, enough with the bullshit games. Act like an adult for once, will yah?” he fires at me, annoyance clear in his voice. “Do you really think you have any reason to use that tone with me right now?” He lifts his hand out of his pocket, running it down his face, eyes closed. “I’m messing this all up.” His voice softer now. “And a pizza, Justin? Do adults send pizzas when they are caught cheating on their girlfriends? I must have missed that trend.” I rise from my chair, pivoting around my desk.

He leaves the safety of the doorway, finally taking a step in, slamming the door shut, the loud bang spiking my nerves. “It’s been a week so I decided to try a different tactic to get your attention. We need to talk about this, and you’re dodging me at every turn. It was a mistake.” He blows out a long sigh. “I just….I just need you to let me explain this, fix us.” A mistake? “A mistake?” I hiss. “A mistake! You mistakenly had sex with your assistant at work? Or you made a mistake by not being smart enough to lock the door?” I watch him wince at my words, but it doesn’t slow me down. “A mistake is

hitting the wrong button on a vending machine and getting the stale animal crackers instead of the delicious Snickers bar. A mistake is buying gross caffeine-free diet Coke instead of regular diet Coke! What’s not a mistake is bending your naked assistant over the arm of the couch in your office and betraying your girlfriend.” I’m screaming at him now, but I’m past controlling my outburst. Thank God the bar is closed and most of my employees should be gone because they would no doubt be able to hear me. “Who the hell does that? A shitty person, that’s who.” I step toward him, pointing my finger at his chest. “As far

as I’m concerned you ordered a hit on this relationship the second you even thought that cheating on me was a possibility, then you executed the kill shot when your dick entered her. I’m avoiding you because I have nothing left to say, and seeing you here and now just makes me want to puke.” He lunges forward grabbing my wrist that’s out in front of him along with the one at my side. The force pushing my entire body back, slamming my butt into the edge of my desk, his body banging into my front as he holds both my arms up on either side. This is the most aggressive move he’s ever used on me, but despite our vast size difference, I’m not scared of

him. “You aren’t even listening to me,” he yells urgently, his minty breath right in my face. He’s right, I don’t care what he has to say because it won’t change anything. Once I’m done I’m done. “Justin, let go,” I calmly request, attempting to shake my arms out of his grasp. “Shut up and listen!” he roars, his grip tightening, the pressure of his squeeze finally becoming uncomfortable. “Let me go, you’re hurting me!” He’s three seconds away from my taking away his ability to procreate with my kneecap. We are in a full-fledged tussle when

suddenly I am free, falling backwards from the force of being released, grabbing my desk for support. I catch the lip just as Justin gets violently slammed against the back wall, shaking the variety of framed photos in the vicinity. Colton’s hand is viciously wrapped around his neck. “You don’t ever touch her like that again, or I will end you, you get me?” he bites out, his face inches from Justin’s. His gray eyes emit a deadly stare. Colton has a good two inches and a solid twenty-five pounds of muscle on Justin, so he’s smart enough not to try and fight back. A gurgling sound is coming from Justin as he nods his head in acknowledgement. Colton takes a step

back, releasing the tight grip he just had on Justin’s jugular. Justin gasps for air, leaning forward with both hands on his knees, his eyes swinging from Colton to me. “You can’t threaten me just because you’re a federal agent, asshole.” A devilish smile spreads across Colton’s face as he leans in toward Justin. “I’d love for you to test that theory, and if you ever step within two feet of her again, you’ll see how big a threat I really am.” Without breaking eye contact with Justin, Colton slowly takes a few steps back, shifting me in front of him as he pushes a bunch of papers aside and takes a seat on my desk. He’s letting this play

out while taking my back at the same time. My best friend knows that I can fight my own battles, but he’s not going to leave the room while I do it. Justin wipes his throat as angry red handprint marks appear. “This”—he moves his finger back and forth between Colton and I—“was always the problem. You may have given me your time, and your body, but you never gave me you. I’ve been waiting a year for you to cut the umbilical cord from him, but it was never going to happen. You are like Fort Knox, never talking to me about your family, or even telling me how you feel, keeping everything locked inside, scared to let me close. Yes, I made a bad call, I messed up royally, but you were never

going to let me in there because you have Colton for that. He may not fuck you, and even that I’m not sure of, but he has every other part of you.” As he moves to leave, he slings his parting shot. “Looks like goddess Kali strikes again.” Then he’s gone. I suck in a small breath, his words physically hitting me in the gut. I drop my head, moving my hands to cover my face. I feel Colton’s arms wrap around me from behind. “Dollface, what kind of blow did he just land?” he whispers into my hair. “How did you know I was here?” I ask, instead of answering. “Kalli.” I sigh loudly. “Goddess Kali is

known as the goddess of destruction, death. We used to joke about it, and it’s seriously not a big deal, Colton.” It is though. The comment rattles me. I know he was just trying to hurt my feelings after having his ego bruised, and he succeeded. His arms constrict tighter, the protective Colton shield calming my uneasiness. “He’s wrong,” he states fiercely. “He destroyed this, not you.” I disengage from Colton, turning around to see his sympathetic face. “How much did you hear?” He shrugs his shoulders. “I followed him back here.” Great, so he heard every single

word. Humiliation swarms within me. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” I don’t want to discuss this irreparably broken relationship anymore tonight. All I want is the images of Justin’s extracurricular work activities to evacuate my mind permanently. I want thoughts of Disney World and Channing Tatum giving me a lap dance to take over. He already knows what happened since he was listening anyway, so I shouldn’t have to rehash it again. “Okay, I’ll give that to you for now.” “Did you see Harper out there?” I change the subject. His eyes squint, a strange gleam present. “Yeah, I walked her to her car when I first came in. Why?”

“I snapped at her earlier and I wanted to go apologize, or give her the pout face depending on how irked she still is.” I feel the hint of a smile creep onto my face. Colton laughs. “Good to know I’m not the only pout sucker around here. I’m guessing he’s the reason behind the two bottles of wine you plowed through alone last night?” “Yes,” I answer honestly. Drinking is a terrible coping mechanism, but quite effective. “How much did you enjoy having your hands around his neck?” I ask, genuinely curious. Colton’s isn’t aggressive by nature, but he can turn lethal at the drop of a dime. He was

taking it easy on Justin tonight, that I know. He turns his head to the side slightly, fighting a smirk that appears regardless. “You may have liked him, but he’s always been a douchebag, Kalli, so I enjoyed it. He deserved a lot worse though. He should never touch a woman in anger, and he should definitely never touch you like that.” I always suspected that Colton was never Justin’s biggest fan, but he kept it mostly to himself. He doesn’t force his unsolicited opinions on me, one of the reasons I love him. “Has he ever touched you like that before?” he probes lightly. “No, Colton.” I say with a sigh. “I

wouldn’t have kept that from you.” “You know he said some jacked up shit tonight that isn’t true, right? Don’t bottle that up, Kalli. Talk to me about it when you’re ready. He’s the asshole. Don’t let him be anything more than that.” I nod my head as I grab my purse off a hook on the wall and flick the light switch. “I got it. I’ll keep assholes behind me where they belong.” “Jesus.” He chuckles as he follows me out.

Chapter 4 Present day I’m floating on a marshmallow cloud. It’s a beautiful shade of pink with light blue swirls intertwined. It is a feather pillow under my head and body, a fantastic softness that I didn’t know existed. As I blissfully float about, the soft sound of a bell echoes in the distance as a bright light appears, beaming at me like car headlights. As I slowly drift down from my happy place, I discover that the reality is nothing like I had perceived it. I’m lying in a small bed, someone is waving a light between my eyes, and a constant, irritating beeping is coming from behind me.

“Kalliope? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” the light-wielding man speaks. He’s leaning above me and is a smidge too close for my comfort. Instincts kick in as I try to raise my weighty arms, attempting to push him away from me, IVs painfully pinching at my skin. As my arms weakly connect with his chest, he grabs my forearms, holding them tight. The beeping increasing to a rapid pace. “Kalliope, try to relax. You are in the Intensive Care Unit at Bayshore Regional Hospital. My name is Dr. Isin.” Hospital? I shake my weighty arms, attempting to get this strange man’s touch off me.

My struggle is in vain though, as I have no coordination at all. I flop like a fish out of water. Just as I’m about to surrender, an enormous body moves in fast, forcing the doctor to release me and take an oversized step back. His back is facing me, but I can tell who it is regardless. Colton. “Hey Doc, how about you step the fuck back and give her a few minutes to adjust,” he barks, as he shoves Dr. Isin toward the door not giving him the option of protesting. “I told you she doesn’t like to be fucking touched by strangers, yet you get all up in her face, grabbing at her anyway. Clearly they don’t teach basic listening skills at medical school.”

I’m confused by how aggressive Colton is being. Judging by the massive frown on Dr. Isin’s face, he’s not used to being manhandled either. He starts in on him. “Being in the FBI doesn’t give you any extra authority in here, Mr. Brady. It would do you a great service to remember that before you accost me again. I’ve been more accommodating given the unique circumstances. You shouldn’t even be in this room since you aren’t immediate family.” “Colton,” I painfully rasp, my desert throat in desperate need of aqua. Dr. Isin’s eyes connected with mine, his demeanor shifting from anger to melancholy instantly. I observe Colton

tipping his head forward, then running his hand down his face, releasing a long sigh. Usually he runs his hand through his hair, not down his face. Why isn’t he turning around? “Colton,” I murmur louder, with more strained effort. He clears his throat as he turns around. When his eyes meet mine, I know why he didn’t want to face me. His name isn’t Colton, it’s Jaxxon. He looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept in days. His black eyes tired, a few days of stubble is on his face, and his basic white T-shirt is all wrinkled, like he slept in it. “Jaxxon?”

His ice cold eyes don’t leave mine as he swings his arm back, grabbing the chair behind him, pulling it up close to me, and taking a seat. “I need you to stay calm, okay, Kalli? Can you do that for me?” His request is more of a command, but my exhausted body obeys none the less. I nod, lie back, and close my eyes taking a deep, painful breath. That’s when my brain explodes with the horrifying images that are my life. The pitch black crypt, the sinister stranger cloaked in darkness, the blinding pain, Colton. A waterfall of tears cascade down the sides of my cheeks as the terrible memories assault my mind. Something

serious must be wrong for Jaxxon to be at my bedside instead of his brothers’. We sit in silence, the increasing machine beeps and my ragged inhales of breath the only sounds echoing around this sterile room. Jaxxon is the first to speak. “Do you remember how you ended up here? It was a Tuesday night at Tapped That. Do you remember someone approaching you? Leaving the bar?” Do I remember that? No. The last thing I remember is watching Colton take a bunch a bullets as I sat there, trying to remain conscious. The horrific memory sends a shiver down my body. “No, I don’t remember anything before waking up in that cellar. Where is

Colton? Is he okay?” I probe softly, keeping my eyes pinched closed. His unnerving muteness has me finally cracking my tear-soaked eyes, only I see Dr. Dolittle, who I forgot was even still in the room, instead of Jaxxon. He’s reaching for something that looks like a syringe. I tilt my chin up as he approaches, situating himself where Jaxxon was prior. He is now standing in the corner with his massive arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted down. The doc moves the large needle behind his back, out of my immediate view. Seemingly ignoring my tears, Dr. Isin starts to talk. “Miss Winters, I need to go

over a few things with you now that you are awake. You have suffered a vast number of serious injuries. You were brought in with a head contusion, concussion, two left broken ribs, a dislocated right shoulder, a broken right wrist, a gunshot wound, and a superficial wound on your back.” He looks down at his chart before he continues. “You were brought in nude, but based on our physical examinations, we don’t believe you were sexually assaulted. We are still giving you antibiotics for STDs just in case, and also ran an HIV panel for that reason and since there was so much blood involved with multiple victims at the scene. That came back negative, but you will have to

return in four months for another routine checkup. Upon arrival here at the hospital, we had to place you in a medically induced coma in order to let the swelling in your brain go down and to give your body the rest it needed to heal. That was eight days ago. You lost an immense amount of blood, and you would have died if they hadn’t gotten you here as fast as they did. You are on a morphine drip for pain management, which is this bag here. This is your clicker to release more as needed. Do you have any questions for me?” How I missed the neon pink cast on my wrist until now I have no idea. I turn my head back toward Jaxxon not comprehending anything this good doctor

just spewed at me, his emotionless orbs locked on me, giving nothing away. There is only one question that I want answered right now. “Where is he? Is he in this hospital?” I whisper. Jaxxon doesn’t blink. “Is he alive?” He doesn’t voice his answer, he just shakes his head. No. “No?” He wipes his hand over his mouth and chin before stepping toward me. “They did everything they possibly could…He didn’t make it, Kalli.” My heart stops at his words, excruciating agony rocketing through my

body, shattering my soul. “That’s not true, he wouldn’t leave me,” I breathe. “I don’t believe you!” I shriek, abruptly sitting up in my bed, welcoming the pain from my impulsive movements. “Prove it. I want to see his body. If he’s dead, then I want you to prove it to me. Show me!” I turn my attention back the doctor. “Take me to him. I want to see Colton Brady’s body right now. I’m his best friend, his family, I deserve to see him!” I sob, now completely hysterical. Dr. Isin flinches, looking pained as I yell in his face. Good, maybe he will do as I ask. Colton can’t be dead. I remember all the blood surrounding his frame, but he’s

huge, he must have tons of reserve plasma in that tank of a body. Don’t agents wear vests? But God, there was so much blood, he must not have had one on. Why would he be there without one? Why was I there to begin with? When my parents died, I physically felt the loss, I felt it before I even knew about their accident, before the officer uttered those devastating words to my face. But I still feel Colton here with me. “He can’t help you, Kalli,” Jaxxon speaks. “You’ve been unconscious for over a week, and they didn’t know when you would come out of it. Mom had him buried four days ago. I identified his body myself, he’s gone.” Gloria buried him four days ago? I

shake my head back and forth as I repeat this over and over in my head. No matter how many times I chant it, I can’t comprehend it. That man is everything to me, and he’s just gone, just like my parents. Oh God, poor Gloria. “This isn’t real,” I mumble, suddenly finding it hard to inhale, the boulder sitting on my chest making me work twice as hard for every breath. I lay back, both hands grabbing at my neck, willing the air to be accepted in as dizziness swirls my vision. I turn my teary face back to the doctor. I watch as he inserts something into my IV, administering it fast, his concerned face studying the screens

above. “I almost didn’t make it?” I wheezed, as he briefly looks back down at me. “Deep, slow breaths for me, Kalli. Yes, you were in critical condition and had us all worried for a while.” “You should have just let me die then.” I barely get my statement out before my eyes flutter shut and everything fades away.

Chapter 5 9 days earlier I huff out a breath, effectively blowing the hair from my face. Payroll is a total pain in my ass tonight. Sure, they make software that makes this entire process simple, but that software is expensive, and blowing money isn’t a luxury I have. Plus I went to freaking college! I didn’t spend $100,000 and four years of my life only to go out and buy a program when I am perfectly capable of doing it on my own. Okay, so I’m not that destitute. I’m just that cheap. Keeping the bar in the black has been my obsession ever since I took over all

operations after graduating. My father organized an amazing system that worked for him, and keeping that system in place is important to me. Sure we had a new point of sale register system, but that was a necessity to keep up with the volume of business we do on a daily basis, but the basics were kept the same. He always did payroll by hand, so I didn’t see any reason I couldn’t do it the same way. Of course his personal life wasn’t half as chaotic as mine, and his attention span was much better. Usually on nights like tonight, where I just can’t get my act together long enough to perform simple math, I would call Colton to come rescue me. If he were available I would have sent out my

SOS text hours ago, but he was called away on assignment yesterday. I email the last of my calculations to my trusty accountant and shut down my MacBook as my cell phone rings next to me. It’s an unavailable number. “Hello?” I answer, crossing my fingers that I didn’t forget to pay one of my bills. I’m somewhat organizationally challenged and running a bar is no picnic. I always seem to fall behind on a payment or two and usually I’m reminded of these lapses in payment by a lovely blocked number. “Thank God. Are you still at the bar?” It’s Colton. He sounds like he’s running, wind causing the connection to

be scratchy. “Yeah, but I’m just finishing up. Where are you calling me from?” “I had to change to a secure line for work. Listen, I’ll be there in thirty minutes, but I need you to stay locked in your office until I get there, okay? Lock the door, and don’t open it for anyone,” he demands, sharply. “Umm, what?” “Kalli!” he yells into the phone. “Focus, I don’t have time to explain right now. Just do as I asked. I’ll be there soon. Tell me you get me.” He’s lost his damn mind, but if he wants me to stay put in the bar then I will. “You’re being weird right now, but I

got you.” I hear beeps signaling he ended the call without saying goodbye, my biggest pet peeve. Colton officially needs a vacation. “Kalli, there’s a flower delivery out here for you,” Leo, one of my other bartenders, yells through my door. I move, cracking my door open a few inches. “Can you just sign for me? If I leave my batcave now, I’ll lose all motivation to finish tonight.” The lie rolls easily off my tongue. “He insisted that you were the only one authorized to sign for it, and that he wasn’t allowed to go home until you do. He’s the grumpy looking dude sitting at the corner stool, you can’t miss him.” He turns, rushing to the kitchen, balancing

five plates with precision on his arms. “I got to get these food orders up.” Seriously? Who gets a flower delivery at ten p.m. and demands a signature? Girls who date losers that wait until they’ve royally messed up to send flowers and refuse to be ignored, that’s who. I follow Leo out to the bar because the last thing I need is some cranky man scowling on his stool, scaring away the paying patrons. Leo was right, it’s hard to miss the massive arrangement of long stemmed red roses in a bright red vase parked on the bar top next to the agitated dude. The delivery man looks slightly less annoyed when he spots me making a beeline for him. “Kalliope Winters?” he

questions, flatly. “Last time I checked.” “Great. Sign here.” I take the clipboard and pen from his outreached hand and scribbling my John Hancock before handing it back. “Sweet,” he mutters. Then he’s gone, disappearing into the sea of customers here tonight. I secure the vase against my armpit, as I grab the card off the top with my other free hand. Do I even want to read it? I already know it’s from Justin, and I don’t care what it says. The road to redemption is a battle, but his is a suicide mission. There is no hope. I do love the smell of roses though,

they are second only to tulips. I tilt my head down, inhaling a large sniff, the lovely smell making me smile regardless of my feelings of loathing toward the sender. As I make my way back down the hall I finally flip the card open. MINE. The bizarre card has me freezing just short of my office door. Mine? How creepy is that? Justin has never been a possessive man. If he had been, he’d have stopped dating me long ago because of how close Colton and I are. This card is just plain wrong. Maybe the florist got the message mixed up?

As I ponder this, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. My eyelids are suddenly so heavy that I’m fighting to keep them open, but I’m losing the battle. My legs start to wobble and go weak, knees begging to buckle to the ground. I reach out, stretching my arms, desperately trying to steady myself against the wall. I feel the splash of water from the vase of flowers crashing to the ground against my bare legs, but I don’t hear the clatter of breaking glass. As I’m about to join them on the floor, hands harshly grip inside my armpits, catching my fall. I feel my body being dragged, the heels of my shoes leaving a water line down the hallway, roses blanketing the floor. We aren’t walking

toward the bar though. We are moving toward the rear fire exit. “Mine,” is growled into my ear, as my eyelids surrender the fight.

Chapter 6 Present day It’s totally bizarre to open your eyes to someone staring at you, studying you so hard that you think their eyes can see into your soul. He’s just standing there, strong arms crossed, silent, like a statue. It’s not until I move to adjust my sore body on this stiff hospital bed that I know why he’s watching me so intently. I jerk my arms against the tight leather restraints that are currently holding me in place. “They strapped you down because you’re now considered a suicide risk until a psychologist can get his ass in here to evaluate and clear you. That’s why you are currently immobilized,” he

explains, his peeved attitude irritating me further. Even though I comprehend his words, I still instinctively fight the restraints. My casted wrist is secured the tightest, giving me no wiggle room at all. My vision blurs with panic as the machines beep a more rapid symphony. “No.” I struggle. “Please! Jaxxon, I can’t, he had me tied down, I couldn’t move to save Colton, I can’t, I can’t…I can’t breathe,” I manage to gasp between heaving breaths. Then abruptly I’m unrestricted, my arms flail with newfound freedom. Jaxxon is on all fours on my bed right in my face. He grabs my chin with one hand forcing me my gaze directly on him, and

brings my hand to his chest with his other, placing it over his heart. “You’re free, you’re safe. Breathe in with me, Kalli. You’re safe, gorgeous, I’ve got you. No one will ever touch you again, so just relax.” His promise works wonders to calm me. As my breathing starts to regulate, he releases his hands and carefully climbs off my bed, sitting back down. I instantly miss his comforting touch. “You can’t let them do that again,” I plead. He shakes his head slightly. “Then you can’t say crazy-ass shit that makes them think you’re loonytoons and it’s a necessity to your safety and theirs that you not have any freedom. It wasn’t my

call, and I don’t know you well enough to vouch for your seriousness.” Am I suicidal? I’m traumatized, brokenhearted, overwhelmed, and irreversibly damaged by the loss of the most important person in my life, but I don’t think I feel the need to off myself. I don’t feel much of anything right now actually. They must have me sedated. Jaxxon leans forward, tucking a piece of my blonde locks that has fallen across my face behind my ear, like it’s natural for him to be touching me in such an intimate manner. Then I have the most ridiculously random thought I’ve had since waking in this hospital bed. I grab his retracting arm with my noncasted hand.

“What does my hair look like?” I ask him softly. His thin frown tips up as he tilts his head slightly at my question. It’s not a smile, but it’s as close as I’ve seen from him in the last few days. “It’s not great, but could be worse. I can help you to the bathroom if you want to judge it for yourself.” I don’t care what my week long bedhead looks like. I was just curious. I nod my head as he helps me stand. My body is stiff, like I slept in the wrong position all night, making walking a challenge. The sensation that I’m walking on ice comes with each struggling step, falling flat on my booty at any moment a serious threat. Jaxxon

must sense my uneasiness because his grip never falters from my arm. “Leave the door open unless you actually need to use the bathroom. I’ll have to get a nurse for you if that’s the case,” he demands, still not letting go. “I can’t go to the bathroom on my own?” His eyes crinkle. “When you have a head injury, been unconscious for a week, and haven’t had a bowel movement that wasn’t into a bag in that same amount of time, no, you can’t go on your own.” Did the man of my dreams seriously just talk about bowel movements I’ve had? Jeez. The idea of Jaxxon seeing my poop hanging in a plastic bag next to my

bed makes me cringe. I would be less mortified if I had just ripped a fart in front of him. As we push our way into the mini bathroom, my reflection comes into view in the square mirror hanging over the sink. I feel myself sway at the sight, my mouth dropping open. It’s worse than I could have ever imagined. My long blonde hair is matted to my head, a slight hue of pink still visible in some places, no doubt from blood. My nose has two butterfly bandages and the bottom left part of my lip is stitched up along with a gash going from my forehead well into my hairline. My eyes are brutally bruised, dark purple tones mixing with swollen flesh.

Thoughts of my poop bag humiliation are long gone. My hand slowly raises to touch my face, making sure it’s real but Jaxxon quickly intercepts my movement. “No, don’t touch it,” he commands, as I rip my arm from him. “Leave,” I request softly, shamed enough for one day, not looking at him through the mirror. No, my eyes are fixated on the shell of a human reflecting back at me. He doesn’t move. “Leave!” I yell with more venom. His unwavering, answerless stare only egging me on. “Why are you here anyway? You’ve never given a damn about my well-being

before, so why are you here now?” My swollen eyes finally meet his gaze through the mirror, shooting daggers. Jaxxon still says nothing, regarding me with unblinking focus. “Why?” I thunder, angry at the world and ready to take it out on anyone in my path no matter how innocent. “Because you feel guilty for being a crap brother for years? Because you alienated your twin from being close to you and now he’s dead? Because you feel some hero complex to take care of the wreckage he left behind? I’m not Colton’s doggy bag that you are now responsible for, so just leave! I don’t need you!” I slam my casted wrist down on the bathroom vanity, feeling nothing. My body slumps

forward, leaning down toward the bathroom counter as I hold back my tears. “The psychopath who kidnapped you, beat you into what you’re seeing in the mirror, and killed Colton evaded our capture, and he’s fucking obsessed with you. Keeping you alive is my current assignment, so no, the Federal Bureau of Investigation says I can’t just leave.” Shit, I wasn’t expecting that. “Why me? Why would someone do this to me? To Colton?” “That’s a discussion for another time,” he answers behind me. “I want to see Gloria,” I request into the counter. “She was placed into protective

custody directly after the funeral. We can’t rule her out as a possible target, and I wasn’t willing to take that chance.” I finally stand up, my muscles screaming at my sudden movement. My nose tingles as tears now escape my lids. “You should be with her then. You need to keep her safe, Jaxxon. She needs you more than I do.” His stunning face softens at my words. “Nobody is going to touch my mother. I have my best agent protecting her, she’s perfectly safe, Kalli. You just won’t be able to have any contact with her until this is over.” Feeling no need to use the facilities, and done looking at the troll in the

mirror, I slowly hobble my way back to my bed unassisted as Jaxxon moves beside me, mimicking my steps. I place both hands on the edge of my high hospital bed, trying to conjure up a way I can hoist my tattered body up into this beast without asking for help. All possibilities involve further injury and agonizing pain. I have pride, but I’m not foolish. “I need some help up…please,” I grind out, gripping the sheets tight in my fists. “Turn around,” he orders. I slowly swing around, now noticing that Jaxxon’s body is inches from my own. His massive physique towers over my tiny frame. I fight the urge to lean into

him, my body craving affection. I’m motionless, eyes locked on his chest, waiting for his next move. “There’s no way to do this without hurting you, Kalli.” I already figured that. “It’s fine, just do it.” I feel his strong hands connect with my hips, his fingers gripping the underside of my butt cheeks. How he knows the only spot I’m not aching, I have no idea. “Awww,” I moan, leaning my forehead into his muscled chest, as he effortlessly lifts me into my bed. I’m adjusting my position, gauging the least painful way to lie as Jaxxon covers me with the beige blanket that had been

pushed to my feet, tucking it in securely around me. “I can’t believe my brother is gone,” I finally choke out, my voice hitching at the end. Jaxxon’s face contorts into what can only be described as disgust. “Brother? That’s a sick way of at looking at your husband.” My face scrunches up as I slowly move into a sitting position. “My husband?” I bite out. “Colton wasn’t my….” Then it clicks. Colton is my husband, legally anyway. When college ended, so did my health insurance. Since I didn’t have parents who could add me to their

coverage and I wasn’t going to be getting a traditional job that would supply it, we came up with a different plan. It was Colton’s bright idea. He had said, “I’m not getting married anytime soon, you’re definitely not getting married anytime soon, and the agency has baller benefits. It’s a total win/win for you. It’s ridiculous for you to pay triple on your own through the bar.” A few signatures and Colton calling in a favor with a judge later, I was his wife. How had I forgotten about this? Shaking my head, I lean back again on my pillow, my eyes never leaving Jaxxon. “No?” he questions angrily. “No clever reply to that? Because I have all

the paperwork right here if you need a refresher.” He grabs a manila envelope that is leaning against the leg of his chair. As he wrestles with the papers inside, I finally give in to my need to hide away for this conversation and close my eyes. Maybe he will just piss off. Jaxxon clears his throat. Guess not. “Colton Joseph Brady married Kalliope Michelle Winters on June 1st, 2011, at Hillsborough County Courthouse. We have your autograph, which I’m assuming is real, and his, which I know is real. You know what all this paperwork doesn’t say, Kalli?” Sarcasm drips off him. “It doesn’t say that no family or friends were present. It

doesn’t say that not one family member even knew that these nuptials took place!” Silence ensues as my exhausted mind lags a response. “I knew.” My eyes spring open to see Harper standing in the room, tears filling her stunning eyes. Yes, she is the only person who knew about our arrangement. She moves in further, but instead of walking to me, she plants herself directly in front of Jaxxon. He stays completely still as she squats down, taking his face into both her hands, eyes frantically roaming over his gorgeous features.

“Jesus, you’re identical,” she whispers, as those impending tears finally start to fall down her beautiful face. I’ve never seen Harper show this much emotion. She quickly jerks her hands back, as if the contact shocked her, swiftly staggering away from him. “And you are?” Jaxxon finally asks, slightly less tense than when he was interrogating me, like he’s trying to not startle a wounded animal. She finally turns to me, ignoring him, agony etched on her face, “They have the same voice too, oh God.” She covers her face with her hands, something between a sob and a laugh erupts. “Harp, come here,” I gently request as I pat the side of my bed. She’s as

broken as I would feel if it weren’t for the tranquilizers they are pumping into my system. Jaxxon is now standing, attempting to control the room since he apparently has no idea who she is. Harper walks to my side. “I was so scared that you weren’t going to make it. Nobody would tell me anything. I had to beg a nurse for information daily and eventually for your room number.” Taking a deep breath she turns to Jaxxon, answering his previous question, “I’m his….I was his.” Was his? What is she talking about? “Harper, I’m not following.” My morphine drip must have administered a new dose. My eyes feel heavier than a

second ago. Harper turns back toward me. “It’s my fault,” she starts. “I wasn’t ready. I thought it would change things between you and me. I was terrified it wouldn’t last, then it would be awkward at the bar. You are like family to me, and I was scared.” Pausing for a moment, she wipes the tears running down her cheeks with both her hands, inhaling a deep breath, attempting to compose herself. “He wanted to tell you from day one. He was proud of us, and I made us dirty, just like my life. I was his. Colton and I were together.” I’m so shocked by her admission that I can’t control my eyes from bugging out huge.

She starts frantically rummaging through her purse, her movements becoming more manic, triggering Jaxxon to take a step between us. She registers his shift, a slight smile forming on her lips, but it’s gone as fast as it appeared. Reaching up, I grab Jaxxon’s arm, causing him to tilt his head my way, but his eyes don’t leave Harper. “It’s fine, she’s like family.” I know he hears me, but he doesn’t move as Harper produces a cell phone. She pulls up a text, flashing it toward us. Kitten, I’ll be late tonight…keep the bed warm for me. “He texted, but he never showed, and I was so exhausted that I didn’t wake up and notice. It wasn’t until I turned on the

news the next morning that I learned why. I learned that he was gone via the morning goddamn news, his picture flashing across my screen.” She stops, shakes her head back and forth a few times before she whispers, “I learned that the love of my life was dead from the fucking news!” Then she gives me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen, raises her hands in the air in submission. “I can’t look at you.” She points at Jaxxon. “I’m so grateful that you are okay, Kalli. You know I love you, but I can’t do this right now with him here. I’m so sorry.” Tears are flowing down my face as she quickly leaves the room. That person was a shell of the take-no-prisoners Harper I know. How could the two most

important people in my life be in love and keep it from me? They lied to me daily for God knows how long. I don’t even know how to process this bomb she just detonated on me. “What the hell just happened here?” Jaxxons asks, as he turns toward me. I have no idea. He steps forward placing his hands on my cheeks, gently wiping my tears away with his thumbs. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at his sweet gesture. His sudden transformation from raging mad that I’m married to his brother, to comforting my bleeding soul gives me whiplash. “You swear a lot. People must tell you that often,” I mumble, as he pulls his

hands away from my cheeks. “I don’t know you well enough to know if it’s an anger thing, or if it’s a Jaxxon thing. You weren’t much of a talker in high school, and I think I would remember all of the cussing. Colton doesn’t swear unless he’s really fired up.” My randomness throws him off as his eyes glisten with amusement. Completely spent, I slowly adjust my tattered body so I’m lying on my side facing Jaxxon. I put my good hand under my head and use my casted hand to reach for my morphine drip. I click that sucker several times in a row. This stuff is liquid gold, and I need it at full force after this afternoon. Jaxxon’s stare is focused on my click

happy hand, his eyes full of judgment. He knows I’m trying to avoid speaking with him further about Harper and my fake marriage to Colton, but I’m starting to feel again, physical and emotional aches. I can’t have that. I need my beautiful pink cloud of ignorance that only my lovely morphine drip can provide. No wonder there are so many addicts in the world. Medication relieves all pain. I tuck my casted hand on top of my good hand, then under my head. “I think you are smart enough to evaluate this mess of a situation that just unfolded in here and figure out not only why your brother and I are married but who Harper is. If not, big man, then you

should consider a new career path.” I can feel the drugs seeping into my body, blissful unawareness rolling in. My eyes fall shut as my chariot cloud arrives. “Maybe a nude male model? Or a dog walker. Yes, a dog walker, because your scary self could definitely keep all those bitches in line.” As I start my weightless ascension into the sky, I hear deep rumbling laughter echoing in the distance.

Chapter 7 There are moments of clarity in one’s life where acceptance of reality crystalizes and you admit that despite all the happy ending books your mother read to you as a child, there is no mysterious white knight coming to save you, no eccentric godmother to magically turn back time, and that no kiss can revive a sleeping princess. Basically, that fairy tales are for liars. Waking up this morning is that epiphany. I was released from the hospital three weeks ago after staying another week for observation. There hadn’t been much communication between Jaxxon

and me during that time. He was giving me the silence I needed to heal while never leaving my side. How he always knew when I would be awake, I have no idea, but he was always parked in that chair. The void left by Colton’s death grew larger every day, as did my depression. Doing anything besides lying in bed quietly became a chore. I welcomed the constant need to sleep my days away. Harper never returned to my hospital room, and after getting my phone that Jaxxon retrieved from my office, she didn’t reply to any of my calls either, only communicating with me via text or email when it was about Tapped That. Bobby, the only other manager I

employed besides myself, stepped up in my absence, taking on sole responsibility of caring for my baby. When I was well enough to form a coherent thought, I told him to consider Harper a manager too. They now emailed me nightly with the sales figures for the day. I ached to be back in my bar, but Jaxxon, not so gently, informed me it wasn’t an option. I lacked the energy to fight him on this, so I gave in for now, settling for nightly updates and informative texts. I wasn’t just concerned about Tapped That though, I was also worried about Harper. Jaxxon assured me that he had eyes on her and that she was doing okay,

adjusting well, and keeping busy. But I knew that was bullshit. I knew she wasn’t okay because I wasn’t. Upon my release, Jaxxon took me back to his home where he had everything already set up for my arrival in his guest room. It was a beautiful new construction colonial style house. It had a killer wrap-around porch, and at five bedrooms and four baths the house was mammoth. I had no idea he even came to Tampa that often, never mind owned property. I was upset that Colton never felt the need to tell me this, but I rationalized this particular omission by telling myself that Jaxxon and I weren’t close, so why would it matter if I knew about his real estate holdings.

Justifying Colton’s lies had become somewhat of a game to me. They hurt less this way. Did I particularly want to reside in this mansion with a man I craved? No, because the feeling clearly wasn’t mutual, but I didn’t have the energy to fight his dictation of my residence, not that I had anywhere better to go anyway. There was no way I could go back to the condo and a hotel was out because who can afford to live in a hotel? Not that I was allowed be alone anyway. My first week was a heavy haze of pills and slumber. I’m not sure if I was groggy from the pain medication or if it was a result of the anxiety and depression cocktail they dosed me with,

but I truly didn’t care. I welcomed the numb fog. It was more pleasant than feeling like I was being split in two. Dr. Isin had prescribed me Xanax upon my release. He said it would help me cope with the aftereffects of the kidnapping, the ugly battle scars, and the grief. I was unfortunately already familiar with the drug from when my parents were killed. It made me feel like a zombie, and I had hoped to never need the medication again. My body was also starting to heal. My ribs still ached if I moved too quickly, but it was better than before, my arm still had the cast, and I still got migraines from my concussion. My black eyes had dissipated into a light green

hue, and my shoulder ached less from my bullet wound. There was also the injury on my back that the doc had called “superficial” that had scabbed over. Jaxxon had waited for a day when I wasn’t on the edge of darkness to explain to me exactly what that mysterious injury was. “He carved his name into your lower back. I had the best plastic surgeon come in and suture the open wounds. Now it spells nothing, just faint lines that will heal with minimal scarring.” My psychotic kidnapper had branded me with a hunting knife. This should have horrified me. Jaxxon had braced for my impending meltdown, unable to mask his weary

features as he watched me digest this information. It was the first time I was thankful that I couldn’t remember any of it. Other than that, I truly felt nothing, completely void. Maybe it was the fact that it was located on my back, so it wasn’t in my face every day, or maybe it just wasn’t that high on the list of jacked up shit that had happened to me over the past month. Either way I responded with an okay and we moved on. Yes, my injuries were slowly healing, but my emotional state was blank. I was completely detached. So I started to secretly taper off my depression medication as the first two

weeks went by. The onset of emotions were worse than expected, so I turned to booze to compensate. Smartest decision I’ve ever made? No. Which brings me to the depressing sight currently in front of me, empty wine bottles littering my bedroom floor. My pounding head serving as a reminder that I did indeed drink all that wine by myself, which in itself is miserable, only made more dismal by the fact that there is not one empty wine glass in sight. Because who needs a glass when drinking out of the bottle is so much more convenient. A desperate part of me had hoped Jaxxon would intervene, catch me during

my downfall, but he’s kept his distance, staying away from the train wreck. As I push the covers off myself the first thing I evaluated is my body. I used to be stacked in all the right places, and I loved that. Looking at my current figure is miserable. Gone are my curves, replaced with signs of my medical issues and current mental collapse. I look sickly, and it revolts me. How have I let myself fall this far? Colton would be so disappointed in me, but no more than I am in myself. He would have caught me long before I descended down this treacherous road. I had become so dependent on him in a way that I never knew. It has slowly become clear to me why Jaxxon was so

concerned years ago. As I close my eyes, I swear I can hear Colton’s voice. “Dollface, cut this bullshit and pull yourself together. You are better than this, so stop…just stop.” It’s exactly what he would say. Sighing, I slowly make my way to my bathroom vanity. I’ve done a great job at avoiding my reflection for weeks now, but it’s time to take a good look. Bracing both hands on the counter, I have to force myself to open my eyes. As I lift my head a gasp escapes my lips. It’s a terrible sight. “Jesus Christ.” I look a mess…a total freaking train wreck. My once beautiful, shiny blonde hair is now greasy and stringy making me

look like Medusa. My skin is a disgusting pale green shade. Add in my red-rimmed, dark-circled eyes and pillowcase-crease-marked cheeks, it’s just bad. I don’t even have to lift my arm to get a whiff of my current appalling hygiene situation. I can’t help the tears that flood my eyes, the first ones I’ve shed since coming to Jaxxon’s home. This isn’t me. I don’t crumble. Colton was my light, but I can’t stay in the dark anymore. As I move toward the shower I feel fresh determination budding inside me. Showering with one hand is a lot harder than it sounds, but forty minutes and

handfuls of Dove and Herbal Essences later I feel healthier. As I comb out my tangles I notice there is a note taped to the mirror that wasn’t there before I got in. Jaxxon must have come in, clearly not concerned with boundaries. A wave of shame washes over me. I can’t believe he’s seen me in this state for weeks. On a conference call in my office, should be done in thirty. Okay then. The note is a little unnecessary but whatever. I grab my Ipod and my headphones and decide to have some quality time with my Pandora, my hair straightener, and my MAC cosmetics. Music has the ability to change my mood, so I put on

some Maroon 5 radio while making myself look human again. My cosmetic makeover morphs into cleaning my disastrous room, which turns into a dance party. I’m shaking my ass, swinging my arms in the air while belting out “Animals,” when I turn mid dance move and freeze. Jaxxon is leaning against my now open door, massive arms and legs crossed in front of him, but that’s not what stops me dead. No, it’s the fact that Jaxxon Brady has a full blown, drop your panties, two dimpled, swoonworthy smile plastered on his face. Holy smokes, I had no idea he had dimples too. Hell, I wasn’t even sure the man knew how to smile.

I can’t help it. I smile back and continue to sing and dance with the music in my ear. I swing back toward the door as the song ends, and to my disappointment Jaxxon is gone.

Chapter 8 As I round the corner making my way into the living room, I run smack into something solid. Strong hands clasp my shoulders preventing me from crashing to the floor from the unexpected blow. His touch ignites a sizzle against my skin, causing my heart to jump. Flustered, I just stand there, like a total weirdo, silently staring up at Jaxxon. Smooth, Kalli. “Sorry,” I squeak, finally looking away from his hypnotizing eyes, focusing on his chin because no one gets flustered by a chin, right? “You move like a freaking ghost. I didn’t hear you.” A short stubble surrounds his face,

showing that shaving hasn’t been a priority the last few days, taking his sexiness to a dangerous level. He doesn’t respond, not that I expect Mr. Talkative to. Instead he just gives me a small nod as he releases me. I tiptoe around his massive frame and plop down on one of the bar stools located at the kitchen island. His kitchen is beautiful. He has dark wood cabinets that go to the ceiling, modern chrome hardware, and a whitish silver granite countertop with matching island. I sense him moving behind me as he rounds the island so he is directly across from me. He’s still silent, making me squirm in my seat. God, I hate awkward silence and

since stopping my medication my nerves have been all over the place. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, tapping my fingers against the hard counter. He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sorry?” “Or a wife or something?” I add just in case. I haven’t seen a ring on his finger, but Jaxxon doesn’t strike me as someone who would wear jewelry even if he were taken. He places both palms on the island, leaning toward me slightly, scowling. “Kalli, I get that you don’t know me very well, so let me inform you on the kind of man I am. I am not the kind of man who if I had a good woman waiting on me, I

would be sharing a roof with another woman. I am not the kind of man that would spend my time protecting you if my woman were alone, unprotected, someplace else. And I am definitely not the kind of man who would call someone who wasn’t his woman ‘gorgeous.’ You get me?” His comment would be seriously erotic, if he didn’t look so chilling while saying it. It’s annoying that he can’t just smile and have a normal conversation. “I’m surprised, I mean with your lovely, sunny disposition and all…” I mumble, while jumping off the chair. A knock on the door has both our heads turning. Jaxxon walks over to let in and greet

whoever is there, but I’m more focused on my mission, coffee. If I don’t get my caffeine fix I turn into Regina George, and nobody wants to deal with an angry Regina. I quickly scurry over to the counter, pouring myself a large cup of java goodness. It’s not until I’m about to take that wonderful first sip that I see who has dropped by, and holy smokes he is hot. He’s the same height as Jaxxon, so a beast compared to me. His messy blonde hair is jelled up into a sexy fohawk. His golden bronze skin only accentuates his striking muscles against his stark white T-shirt. He is leaner than Jaxxon, but no less impressive. And his hand is coming right for me.

“Hey, Kalli. I’m Max, I’m on Jaxxon’s team.” His deep whiskey voice vibrates through me. “Team?” I ask, while shaking his hand. “Sorry, team in the Bureau I mean. Jaxxon and I were overseas together and now we are all here working on your case,” he answers, releasing my hand and taking a step back. “You were in the Marines with him?” His forehead scrunches as his eyes slant. “Uh, sure. Something like that.” “All righty then,” I reply, taking one last shameless perusal of Max. Jeez, the FBI should invest in a calendar. He would make a fantastic Mr.

November, fall leaves surrounding his tan features, fohawk gelled up, a strategically placed pumpkin… Lost in my visual fantasy, I turn to take a seat at the kitchen table and notice that it’s covered in documents. “What’s all this business?” I gesture toward the mess. Ignoring my inquiry, Jaxxon walks over to the fridge grabbing a few bottles of water. “Looks like you rediscovered the beauty of a shower.” Did he just make a joke? “Are you teasing me?” A fake shocked expression is on my face. “I didn’t know you had it in you.” “He usually doesn’t,” Max interjects with a sinful smirk.

“Just saying you look better, gorgeous.” Then I see the change in his face. Playful Jaxxon’s quick appearance vanishes before I even get to enjoy him, checking back into badass. He moves to stand on the other side of the table. Max is watching Jaxxon with a strange expression on his face, but I can’t place it. “This is something I’ve been waiting to review with you. I needed you to be strong enough to pull yourself out of this emotional hole you’ve been buried in before I was confident you were tough enough to handle more information. Regardless of what you think, I’ve seen the downward spiral the past few weeks, Kalli, but you didn’t need me to

save you. You just needed me to be patient enough to wait it out while you found the strength to get yourself together.” Wow. I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just nod. Nothing like discussing your mental breakdown in the presence of two ridiculously hot men. “Sit,” he directs, as he proceeds to take a seat at the table himself. Max slides in so he’s now standing between us. I roll my eyes. “Yes, master.” I hate being bossed around. Max shoots his gaze to Jaxxon. “She calls you master already?” His light laughter boosts my spirit.

Jaxxon’s dimpled smile peeks out, but he doesn’t respond as he slides a photo in front of me. It’s a mug shot of a nondescript white male, maybe around thirty-five. He has short brown hair combed awkwardly to the side, rocking it like comb-overs are cool. Absolutely nothing else stands out about him. He’s not ugly but not overly attractive. He just is. “This is our suspect, Dominic Hall. This is the man that kidnapped you”—he pauses—“and killed Colton.” My stomach violently churns as he continues, “His last known residence is Charlotte, North Carolina, three years ago. He hasn’t used a credit card or a bank account in the years since, and it

looks like you came onto his radar a little over a year ago via an online dating profile.” I hold up his hand, halting his words. “Um, I don’t have a dating profile, Jaxxon.” I’m not a huge technology person, and I despise dating so that definitely wouldn’t be the avenue I would take to find a man. He slides another piece of paper over, a printout of said profile. I quickly scan it until I get down to the looking-for section. Unfortunately Max knows where I’m going with this and decides to recite it. “ ’A non-Abercrombie looking adult male, who can build shit.’ ” Jeez.

Harper. Hilarious. A year ago was around the time I started seeing Justin. “I mean it’s not the most inviting profile, so why did he come after me?” When I look up from the paper they are both watching at me, faces blank. “You honestly don’t see it, do you? Jesus. Kalli, you are one of, if not the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.” Jaxxon says, as he moves, fanning multiple photos of me out. They must have been on my profile. I’m temporarily paralyzed by the fact that Jaxxon thinks I’m beautiful. I’m not that girl who pretends she doesn’t know she gets copious amounts of attention

from the male sex. I just didn’t know that ice-cold Jaxxon Brady saw me that way. “So this whacko thinks I’m attractive and what? Decides that kidnapping and murder are a good idea? I don’t understand.” Jaxxon sighs loudly as Max jumps in. “It wasn’t sudden. He started sending letters to Colton about six months ago. Colton started an investigation, but he didn’t want to disturb your everyday life, scaring you if it was just some harmless teenage infatuation. He made the wrong call.” I turn to Max. “The wrong call? He’s dead, I’d say it was more than making the wrong call.” Jaxxon produces another image, and

it almost knocks the wind out of me. She could be my older sister, if I had one. “What the hell?” I pull the photo closer to my face, inspecting every last detail. Max taps his finger on the photo in my hand. “That is why he targeted you.” I have to force my eyes from the image to look up at him, awaiting further explanation. He walks to the other side of the table grabbing three more photos. As he comes back next to me he lines them up in a row. All these women are eerily similar to one another, and myself. Max continues, “The first photo I gave you is of Dominic’s wife, Kelly. She was killed by a drunk driver four years ago. We believe that her death

triggered some kind of psychotic break. These other three women are believed to be his first victims. From what we can tell, he kept them each for about a month or two before he killed them via strangulation. They were also all sexually assaulted, and left with his mark on their backs. Colton didn’t involve Jaxxon until a week before you were taken. By the time we were able to put all this together you were already kidnapped from Tapped That. Colton went maverick, going against agency protocol because it takes time to get approval from the proper channels, and he didn’t believe you had that luxury.” “So he’s dead because he loved me too much to wait for backup?”

Max flinches slightly. “Yes.” I look over at Jaxxon, his sympathetic eyes locked with mine. “But they said I wasn’t raped, right?” His face morphs murderously at my question. “We believe that’s why Colton went in alone. He didn’t want to give Dominic any more time than he’d already had with you. He either ran out of time, or his only objective for taking you was to get rid of Colton,” Jaxxons explains. What a sick nutbag. “Who does that?” I shout, slapping the table. “So Colton was receiving messages from this serial-killing creep for six freaking months and he said nothing to me? Where are the notes he got from this Dominic guy?” I ask,

surveying the documents, not seeing what I’m looking for. “You don’t need to see those,” Jaxxon states, tone final. “But you two have seen them?” “Yes,” they answer in unison. “If this guy is so obsessed with me, then why did he beat the crap out of me? And he shot me! Why would he do that if he wanted me alive? I don’t get it.” Jaxxon runs his hand through his hair as he stands next to Max. The gesture, so Colton like, stabs at my heart. He pushes his seat in, moves to stand behind it, and places both his hands on the top of the chair back. His movements are tight, calculated, as if he’s bracing.

“He didn’t shoot you, Kalli,” he declares, slowly. Nerves getting the best of me, I join the standing party. My body now emitting a tingling sensation of nervousness. What is he saying? “So Colton shot me?” I ask, exasperated. “Dominic shot Colton at close range, so close that the bullet went through him and into you. You were never his intended target.” Through him and into me. The words painfully echoing in my mind. Natural reflex has me touching my shoulder, right where I was shot. A shot Colton and I both took, a shot that took

his life while he was in the process of trying to save mine. “I want to see the note he received that made him go in without backup. I need to see it…please,” I beg, my voice jagged. Jaxxon and Max share a look, something is communicated because Jaxxon nods his head, then Max reaches for his back pocket. It’s a folded photocopy of the note. He hands it to me. Your life for her life. “Fuck!” I scream, as tears fill my eyes, blind rage vibrating throughout my body at hyper speed. I don’t want to see this shit anymore, so I grab the side of the table with both hands and use all my strength, flipping it over onto its side,

the force rattling the entire house, scattering remnants of my nightmare all over the ground. I’m panting as strong arms fasten around me, restricting further violent acts. “Breathe for me, Kalli,” he whispers into my ear. Instead of feeling panic from Jaxxon’s restrictive move on me, I feel comfort. I sag back onto his hard, warm chest. His grip never loosens on me. Taking deep breaths, I attempt to get myself back in control. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m done for today,” I whimper, as I wait for him to release me. Instead I’m suddenly off the ground, cradled in Jaxxon’s protective arms. His scent, woodsy and

fresh, helps to calm my frazzled state. “I’ll let myself out, man,” I faintly hear Max say behind us. Jaxxon walks me down the hall and into my bedroom, gently placing me on the bed, pulls the covers over me and turns to walk away, but the last thing I want is to be alone, the photo of Dominic flashing in my mind. “Stay,” I plead, causing him to freeze. Without looking back at me he walks over a chair in the corner of the room, slowly pulls a gun that I didn’t know he had on him from behind his back, placing it on the end table next to him. His enormous body engulfs the chair as he sits down. His eyes meet mine as he

aims a slight nod of his head my way. I mouth a thank-you before I close my eyes. As exhaustion takes over, I feel my heart fall for Jaxxon a little more as he gives up his afternoon to watch over me as I sleep.

Chapter 9 I groan as the sensation of something cold and wet presses up against my cheek. Rotating, I shove my head further into my fluffy pillow. As the sleepy cobwebs start to dissipate, it dawns on me that there isn’t anything in my bed that should be wet or cold. Did Jaxxon just kiss me? If he did, it was mighty sloppy. He has been coming into my room at night for the past week without me even having to ask and parking himself in the same corner chair. I didn’t question this because the peace of mind it provided to have an armed Adonis with the sole purpose of keeping me alive wasn’t something I was going to mess with. I

can sleep at night now. When I stopped my medication, the nightmares began. That’s another reason why I begged Jaxxon to stay, I need him. As the days went on, my nightly thoughts slowly morphed from nightmarish flashbacks to sexual fantasies, and Jaxxon has been the star in every single one, as he has been for years. My mind wanders to his delicious mouth and flawless full lips. He possesses the kind of mouth girls dream about, that speaks directly to their girly parts. Before my own girly parts can get too excited, I turn my head sideways and lift up to see if he’s actually next to me. I freeze because it’s not Jaxxon.

It’s not even close. Curious, large hazel eyes are trained on me, huge triangle ears sticking straight up, listening intently for noise to infiltrate our silent standoff. A beautiful array of fluffy brown and black fur frame an adorable face. The culprit of my strange awakening is by far the largest, and most handsome looking German shepherd I’ve ever seen. I shift to a sitting position as he remains still, watchful. “Hey, beauty.” His ears twitch at my words. “What’s your name?” I reach out, petting his furry head. He has a bright red collar on with a dog-bone-shaped tag attached. I flip it to look for a name. Stud.

And he is a total stud. A light tap comes from my door as it’s pushed all the way open. Jaxxon strides in wearing gray sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low and a white T-shirt. My mouth drops open slightly as I soak up the sexiest feature I didn’t know Jaxxon possessed. His right arm is a complete sleeve of stunningly colorful tattoos. He’s sinfully sexy all on his own, but adding the sleeve brings him to a deadly level. “You need more time checking me out? Or are you done?” A smirk appears on his face. Caught. Dammit. “You have a sleeve?” I exclaim, way too excited. “How did I not know this?”

I try to think back to what he’s been wearing for the past few weeks. Long sleeve Henleys are all that come to mind. “Not big on displaying my ink, babe. It’s personal and I like to keep it that way, plus you’ve been preoccupied.” He moves in and sits on the edge of my bed, Stud leaving me to go over to him. “He’s beautiful. Where did he come from?” He stops petting Stud and cocks his head to the side to see me. Instead of finding my eyes like he normally does, he slides his gaze down my body, slowly making his way back to finally make eye contact. His perusal causes my nipples to harden, which is easily visible in the

flimsy tank top I’m sporting. Damn you nipples! I cross my arms over my chest and cough loudly. He chuckles. “Just returning the favor. This is Stud. He’s your new dog,” he announces, observing my reaction. “What do you mean he’s mine?” Jaxxon bought me a dog? He uses both hands to scratch behind Stud’s ears. “Stud here was our best bomb sniffing K9. He was shot on the job six weeks ago, and while he’s made a full recovery, the department decided to retire him. Older dogs are harder to place because most families want a puppy, not a five-year-old adult dog. I told them I knew the perfect owner who

would cherish him, not just as a dog, but as the hero he is for taking a bullet meant for an agent.” This marvelous canine took a bullet for someone. I can’t stop the tears that pool in my eyes as his words resonate inside me. “Well, of course I’ll love him!” I bellow, ignoring the tears, acting like they aren’t dripping down my face. “Why are you crying?” “I’m not,” I defensively reply, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Okay,” he replies with a smile. “Stud knows a lot more commands than your average dog, but I’ll go over those with you later. He walks with a minor

limp from muscle damage where he took the hit, but the vet assured me that it’s not anything serious, just a result from his injury.” He snaps his fingers and points to the bed in between us. Stud dutifully jumps up and lies down. I can’t stop myself, I lean forward and engulf Stud in a hug. “I don’t care what’s wrong with him. He’s mine now.” My words are muffled in a sea of fur. I feel the bed move as Jaxxon stands. “I’ll leave you two to bond.” As he exits my room, I’m honored with a lick from the best looking Stud I’ve ever met.

Chapter 10 I decide to treat myself to a few hours of mindless Real Housewives of wherever reality television. Nothing makes a girl feel better about her life than watching older, cracked out biddies arguing about absolutely nothing important. Jaxxon has been in his office for a few hours, doing work I guess, and Stud is enjoying some doggy physical therapy at the vet’s office. Just as I’m about to move on to House Hunters, I hear Jaxxon shut his office door. I tilt my head to look behind me and see him walking my way. Ok, walking isn’t the right word. Jaxxon has a seriously powerful swagger. I quickly turn, fanning my now

flushed pink face, willing it to fade fast. “You almost done? I have something I want to show you,” he requests behind me. I turn the television off, stalling to give my face some time to return to its normal color. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?” I question, not moving from the couch. Jaxxon gives me a half smile, then uses his finger to beckon me over to him. As I approach he commands, “Stand in front of me, facing the island.” Jeez, always so bossy. I’ll have to educate him on the word “please” later, but for now I obey, moving into place. He moves in behind me, gripping my elbows. I have to will myself to inhale a

breath, his touch causing goosebumps to spread across my skin. He slowly slides his hands down my arms in a light, caressing touch until his connect with mine. If it were anyone else, I would have shaken them off and then kicked for their dingle berries, but Jaxxon’s touch makes me tremble with want. There is no way he can’t sense my attraction to him. He slowly releases my right hand and moves my left one under the island. I feel something attached to the top of the underside lip of the granite, a quarter size bump. “That’s a panic button. It signals directly to 911, and units are sent out immediately. There is also another one located in your bedroom next to the

nightstand.” He releases my hand as I turn to look at him, forcing him to shift back. In reality he could have just told me about it, so why the big show with all the touching? “Okay? But you never really leave me here alone.” And he doesn’t. The only real solitude I get is in the bathroom. I now understand why men take so long in there. It’s a minisanctuary away from the world. “It’s just a precaution. My team is working their asses off to get this prick into custody, but right now he’s a ghost. If for any reason you feel threatened, in danger, or if you think someone is in the house, you don’t hesitate to push that

button. I’d rather have you overreact than be too scared to use it.” “Okay, I can do that.” “You ever shoot a gun before?” “Yes, Colton taught me,” I answer, quietly. “Do you have your permit?” “Yes.” “Good, I’m going to get you a small Smith and Wesson for your purse.” “I have a gun but it’s….it’s in my nightstand at the condo. Maybe someone could go get it for me? I would like to keep it. It was a gift from Colton.” “Yo!” comes from the doorway as Max enters. “I’ll swing by and pick it up for you later. I have a few things I need to do

today.” Jaxxon nods at Max, passing by him on his way out. I swing my eyes to Max as I size him up and down. “Do you carry a gun?” I don’t see the hint of an extra bulge in my search. He beams at me, the whitest smile I’ve even seen. “I carry two.” “No way! Show me.” He places his hands on my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing small circles as he leans down toward me. “You have to buy me dinner first,” he says with a wink. Such a playboy. “Your hotness doesn’t fluster me.” I give him my best nana-nana-phu-phuattitude head shake. He throws back his head and laughs,

the sound causing a genuine smile to break out on my face. He slides his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug. “I never thought it did.” I play punch him in the chest as I break away. “I need you to take a walk with me,” I instruct. “Okay?” As I shut the fridge after grabbing what I need, I motion him toward the door. I have a weekly date that I’ve missed for the past few months I need to get to. **** It’s peaceful here. Of course, it should be. It is, after all, a cemetery, but this one is especially secluded, hidden down a long drive, bordering the river.

As I look over my shoulder, I see Max in the distance leaning against one of the few large trees spread among the stones, cell phone to his ear. He’s too far away for me to hear what he’s saying, but he looks concerned. He was less than happy when I asked him to stay back, but he respected my wishes regardless. I pull my view forward, feeling the familiar burn run up my chest, through my throat and into my nose. It’s gotten better over the years, easier, but it never goes away, especially when I’m here. It’s worse now with Colton being gone. “Hey, Mom.” I kneel at her gravestone, wiping my hand on the dull, freshly cut grass. “I brought a Pinot

today. I know that’s not your favorite, but you never did turn down a good glass of wine. I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while, things have been…tough lately.” I opened the wine before I left the house, so all I have to do is pull the cork out. I pour some out on the ground, then bring it up to my mouth pulling in a big gulp. I stretch my body out, lying flat on my back on the ground. Large clouds are scattered around the sky behind my sunglasses. This has been my routine for years. Sometimes I talk, often I cry, but most of the time I just lie here alternating sips with the ground. I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying here, long enough that I feel the trickle of sweat running down my back. I

hear someone walk up and take a seat on the grass next to me. Max must think I’ve lost my mind. I tilt to see it isn’t Max, but Jaxxon. He’s sitting, knees bent up, hands connected around them. It’s weird to see his badass self in such a casual position. I can’t see his eyes behind his mirrored aviators, but his sight is frozen on me. I roll my head back to the clouds. “Every Wednesday is cocktail hour with Mom,” I inform him, trying to control the hitch in my voice. “Just your mom?” “Dad gets cigar Fridays. Just because they share a plot in the ground doesn’t mean they don’t deserve my undivided attention, so they get separate

visits each week.” I take one last sip, then tip the bottle over next to me, pouring the rest out for mom. “She was everything to me. I know you didn’t know them well, but we were so close. She wanted me to go away for college, branch out from Tampa, but the thought of not being able to see her daily made me so anxious.” I inhale a large breath at the memory. “I heard her, you know,” I admit, still not looking his way, telling him a secret I haven’t shared with anyone. “Right before I blacked out in that chair. I heard her voice, so freaking clear. She told me to hold on. How can something so beautiful come at such a high cost? Why did I have to hear her

right after watching Colton get murdered?” “Maybe she knew you needed it.” I don’t respond as I sit up on my elbows, the spot where Max was is now vacant. “Did Max call you?” I see Jaxxon rise to his feet from the corner of my eye, his mountainous frame blocking the sun that was beating down on me. He stretches his arm out toward me. The rumble of thunder threatens us in the distance. “Max had something urgent come up, so I rescheduled my meetings and got here as fast as I could. He took my car, so we need to get moving before this storm moves in.”

My hand clasps with his as he effortlessly levitates me from the ground. My hand feels at home connected to his. Without releasing his grip, I kiss two fingers on my other hand and take a step toward their stone, placing them gently on the top of it. “Love you both, take care of him for me.” I turn back to Jaxxon. “Is he here?’ His forehead scrunches forward. “Who?” “Colton.” His grip tightens in my hand. “No, Kalli, he’s in the family plot near Mom’s house. I’ll take you there sometime.” A breath whooshes out of my lungs,

relieved that I don’t have to face that hurdle today. I’m not ready for my heart to be ripped out of my chest at the sight of Colton’s final resting place.

Chapter 11 The sexual tension in this house is sucking the life out of me. Okay, so maybe those overdramatic words aren’t what I should be using to describe the magnetic pull I feel toward Jaxxon. It’s a strange, suffocating feeling to be this attracted to someone you’re forced to constantly be near. Every affectionate touch or bump from him has my hormones lighting on fire. That’s why tonight, I’m making a play for Jaxxon Brady. A play that I’ve fantasized about but never thought I’d ever have the opportunity or cojones to execute. I’m oddly calm as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror adjusting my breasts

in my sexy, light pink baby doll nightie with matching thong. From behind it’s a straight booty shot as the nightie doesn’t go past my hips. I was surprised to see this piece of lingerie in my bag because not only have I never seen it before, but I definitely didn’t buy it. This screamed Harper. Since going back to the condo wasn’t something I was ready to face weeks ago, she had graciously offered to pack up my things. She must have added this in for good measure. I was surprised that she wanted to go after losing Colton, but I think she felt closer to him there. Regardless, I was thankful. She is the only person I ever told about my feelings

for Jaxxon. I’ve spent the past few hours straightening the frizz out of my stubborn blonde tendrils, shaving away the hairy beast I’ve allowed myself to become and applying my best I-have-no-makeup makeup on. It’s taking all the confidence I can muster to not let these nasty scars that mar my body hold me back. I contemplated trying to cover them up with foundation but decided against it. He’s seen them all at their worst in the hospital, and they look worlds better now, but they are still an ugly, prominent reminder of my attack. The neon cast unfortunately clashes against my nightie, but I can’t do

anything about that. I crack my neck, stretching as I prepared for Operation Get the Guy of My Dreams. I haven’t completely mapped out how I’m going to pull this off, but I’ll improvise as I go. Jaxxon is watching television in the living room with Stud lying on the ground beside him. It’s a part of his nightly routine. He usually watches ESPN for an hour to decompress from his day before he makes his way to my room. I slowly tiptoe through the kitchen and into the living room until I’m right behind the couch where he’s lying. His hand is behind his head, his white T-shirt straining against his impressive biceps,

sexy tattoos in total view, stomach slightly peeking out against his black basketball shorts, massive body stretched out across the black leather couch. He looks edible. His head turns as he hears my approach. His eyes widen marginally as I come into his view, but he gives no other reaction, not that I expected he would. He’s always the picture of perfect control. I knew he would regulate his reaction like this, and I knew I would have to be confident enough to continue with my plan even if he didn’t react the way I think a normal, hot blooded male would to the presence of a half-naked chick.

I place my hands on couch, stroking the soft leather. I lean forward, knowing this position will do wonders for my cleavage. Once his eyes reach mine I know it’s go time. “Do you think you could come sit in a little early tonight? I’m beat and feeling kind of anxious,” I request in my lightest, sexiest voice. I have no idea if it’s actually sexy. This seduction thing is serious work! Jaxxon knows I don’t normally try to look this good before bed or wear outfits like this, but I’m banking on the hope that he won’t question it. A slow nod is all I get from him as he turns off the television. “Stay,” he commands to Stud as he

rises. My heart flutters at him not allowing Stud to follow because he usually sleeps at the end of my bed. “Thanks,” I say, then I wink. I turn so fast that I’m not sure if the wink was well received, or if it just looked like an awkward eye twitch. I’m starting to sweat, but I must forge on. I know the second he sees me walk away; he loudly clears his throat. My bare ass cheeks swaying from side to side is exactly what he’s looking at right now as I make my way to my bedroom, and I can’t control the huge smile that consumes my face. I jump into my bed, scooting back straight against the headboard, covers under my legs as he walks in, gun held

loosely in hand. I feel my girly parts contract at the sight. Jaxxon holding a gun is pure hotness at its finest. He doesn’t look at me as he continues with his nightly routine of placing the gun down on the side table next to his chair and taking a seat. Once he’s firmly planted I start my descent. I crawl, yes, crawl toward the end of the bed, not breaking eye contact as I feel my breasts sway side to side in the tiny pink triangles holding them in place. It isn’t until I’m near the edge that he finally speaks. “Kalli.” His tone is hard, intimidating. It’s a warning. A warning I’m ignoring. He face is impassive, but he hasn’t

jumped out of his chair like it’s on fire, so I’m taking that as a good sign. As I take my first step off the bed, he cocks his head to the side, eyes sparkling with curiosity. I lick my lips as I make my way over to him. Thank God I had that glass of wine before this, or I would have lost my nerve right now. As I approach, I tentatively slink up his body, slowly spreading my legs to straddle his wide stance. His strong hands move, clenching my thighs, holding me securely in place on his lap. He’s protecting me, making sure I can’t fall off him. My hands make their way up his chest, resting on his pectoral muscles. I feel his rough hands start to move up my thighs, over my hips and

curving into my waist. I’m so turned on that I’m sure he can feel my wetness on his bare legs since his shorts got pulled up high when I mounted him. I lean in, placing small butterfly kisses up his neck. His head bends slightly to the side, giving me better access. Elation overwhelms me as I realize that he’s actually responding to my touch. The fact that he hasn’t thrown me off him is also a good sign. His hard erection rises against my core, so I know he’s into this. As I make my way to the top of his neck, I feel his hands leave my hips as he grips my head between both his hands, halting my movement. His mouth near my ear as he rubs his nose into my

hair. Then he breaks my heart. “Is this the game you whipped out on Colton to get him to commit fraud?” If he had slapped me, it would have hurt less. Momentarily dazed by his verbal blow, it takes me a few seconds to swiftly launch myself off him, turning around as fast as I can. My butt is still right in his face, but at least I don’t have to look at him. I was so off base. I was the only one feeling sexual tension. He was just tense. I confused the two. I should have trusted that my instincts on the male species are total crap. Yet here I am, throwing myself at

someone who is being paid to protect me. He’s here by order, not by choice. A tingling sensation shoots through my body as shame and humiliation wash over me. I force my wobbly legs to move in a confident “I don’t care that you just crushed me and turned me down at the same time” stride. I quickly grab the robe hanging on my bathroom door to cover my now completely embarrassing outfit. My hopes that he would also make a quick exit are crushed when I turn around and he is still there. His livid gaze penetrates my soul, making me feel a sadness I have only experienced from the loss of a loved one. Misery. Not exactly how I wanted him to penetrate

me tonight. “You can leave now.” I motion toward my open door. “Did Colton know about the letters?” “I’m sorry?” I’m physically breathless at his words. My hands raise to cover my mouth, an instinctual reaction I have no control over. He got my letters. While Jaxxon was deployed, I found his address on Colton’s desk and started writing him countless letters telling him embarrassing stories of our college adventures along with other general random info about Colton and I. I also added in updates on the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, his favorite football team, since I wasn’t sure if they had computer

access where he was. I had never once received a letter back, so I assumed they never reached him, but for three years I felt compelled to continue to send letter after letter. I knew Colton and Gloria wrote him, but not as often as I did. “Four hundred and fifty-six letters to be exact.” Holy smokes, he counted every single letter. I clench my robe tighter. “It doesn’t matter what Colton knew because he and I have only ever been friends, but you’ve already decided that you know who I am, so I’m not going to attempt to defend myself further. I read this”—I gesture between the two of us—“situation wrong and made the wrong play. Trust me, it

won’t happen again so…” I motion toward my door. “Tell me why?” he demands, still not moving from his chair. I wasn’t sure if he was asking about the letters or the marriage now, but I didn’t want to discuss the letters so I went with the latter. “The plan was always to get an annulment when it was necessary.” By the way his face responds I can tell that I’ve piqued his interest. His eyes crinkle the way they do when he’s thinking over my words. I’m surprised ice cold Jaxxon let the telling facial expression slip through his control. “Annulment? The marriage was never consummated?”

“Jesus! Are you serious right now? Have you listened to anything I’ve said to you over the past four weeks?” My voice is only a notch below a scream. Jaxxon finally stands. His muscles tighten as his arms cross his chest. He looks lethal towering over my lesser stature. He’s not intentionally trying to frighten me; that’s just Jaxxon’s stance. “I get that you don’t know me very well, so let me inform you about who I am.” I throw his previous words back in his face as I yell up at him. “I am not the kind of woman who would play her best friend and only living family, just for medical benefits. I am not the kind of woman who, if I were in love with Colton, would waste twenty freaking

years pretending I wasn’t. And I am definitely not the kind of woman who, if the love of my life had tragically died saving my goddamn life, would be throwing myself at his twin brother not five weeks later,” I holler at him. “I have never had, nor would I ever have sex with Colton. Now if you’re done making me feel like trash, I’m going to go take a shower.” I don’t wait for him to reply as I walk back into my bathroom, slam and lock the door, turn the shower on full blast, and plant myself on the toilet as I cry into my hands.

Chapter 12 As expected, when I exit the bathroom he’s gone. I find my most comfortable Victoria’s Secret boyfriend baggy sweats and my University of Tampa sweatshirt, ready to pass out and dream of a time I didn’t act like a desperate housewife. I throw my hair up in a messy bun, because I just couldn’t care less what I look like anymore. As I finish up I hear Stud barking followed by a knock on the front door. Curious as who would be visiting Jaxxon at eleven p.m. on a Thursday, I crack the door to my bedroom like a total creeper so I can eavesdrop better. “Holy shit!” a voice I don’t want to hear bellows. “I heard you were dead,

dude!” Justin. Crap. I look to the ceiling. Could this night get any worse? I rush from my room toward the front door before Jaxxon has a chance to respond. Justin is staring at him with his mouth open, clearly confused. “What are you doing here?” I inquire with not even a hint of interest in my voice as I position myself in front of Jaxxon. I can’t even muster the effort to fake care right now. “You know this clown?” Jaxxon asks, regarding Justin coolly. Justin’s head swings to me, sizing me up and down, then back to Jaxxon. He

squints his eyes, clearly working his little brain overtime trying to calculate what’s going on. The hamster wheel is moving slow today, and it looks like it hurts. Idiot. “I was concerned about you. You haven’t responded to any of my calls or texts and you haven’t been to the bar in weeks. Our iPhones are still connected, so I came to this address since you haven’t left it since I found out you left the hospital.” He reaches his arms out, expecting a hug no doubt. He must have amnesia. It only takes my slight flinch away from his impending touch to set Jaxxon into motion. His mountain of a body moves between Justin and I, completely blocking me from his view.

“All right, calm down, man,” Justin squeaks, as his back slams against the closed front door. “One, name’s Jaxxon, not Colton. Two, don’t fucking touch her. Three, you come to my home uninvited at this time of night again, you won’t be leaving, ever. Got me?” Justin’s eyes go wide at Jaxxon’s murderous tone. He looks so lethal that I’m sure he rarely has to resort to actual violence against an enemy. Since I’m truly not in the mood to watch Macho Man go up against Abercrombie, I give Jaxxon a good shove, attempting to get him to step back. The man doesn’t even sway. “Back up,” I hiss in frustration.

He shifts to the side, mortal glare still homed in on Justin. I turn to Justin. “I’m not now, nor will I ever be your concern again. You cheated on me, humiliated me, and betrayed my trust when I caught you banging Jessica. Please hear me when I say that I don’t ever want to see you again. This is done.” I reach between his arm and body, grabbing the door handle, flinging it open. “Goodbye, Justin, take care.” Shades of red invade his face; he’s angry at my outright dismissal. “I see you moved from one brother to the next huh, Kalliope? If I knew you were such whore, I would have suggested a threesome with Jessica long

before I started bending her over at work. And Kalli, that started a long-ass time ago.” Douchebag. “Motherfucker!” comes from behind me in the form of a feral growl. Jaxxon’s body is so close to my back that I can feel his solid chest across my shoulders. I look into Justin’s spiteful eyes for hopefully the last time as he takes a backwards step out the door. “You should leave before I let my babysitter dispose of you and trust me, they would never find your body.” He smirks, throwing his hands up. “Whatever, you’re not worth it anyway.” He grabs the door and swings it closed right in my face, literally inches away

from me. I didn’t even flinch at the impending blow. Exhausted, I lean forward until my forehead hits the cold steel door. The cool sensation doing nothing for my now excruciating headache. How did I date that loser for an entire year? Colton was right, I do just pick the wrong men. Normally I could brush off his cruel words. I’m a rational person; I know he just had his ego bruised by my blatant brush off, but rationality is almost always overshadowed by malice. “He’s wrong, babe. And you and I will finish our discussion, without you running scared this time,” he declares behind me, still pressed to my back. “I

see that you had your mind set that tonight was going to go one way, and when that didn’t happen you froze up and instantly withdrew, but I don’t think you see where I’m coming from. But I’ll play it your way and wait for you to come to me when you’re ready to hear what I have to say.” All I’m ready for right now is a stiff drink. The urge to make a break for it and hide at Tapped That is overwhelming. If Jaxxon weren’t directly behind me right now I might even attempt it. Without glancing at Jaxxon, I maneuver around him, making my way over to the kitchen. I make fast work of finding my three favorite things, my

electric wine bottle opener, my Sour Patch Kids, and of course my wine. Balancing all three in my arms I yell for Stud to follow, which he dutifully does, as I make my way to my bedroom. I may have just experienced an epic rejection and been verbally slapped by the man I gave a year of my life to, but I still have a Stud to spend the night with, and currently he is the best man I know. If Colton were alive, he would hold me in a bear hug until he felt my anxious heartbeat slow. I don’t even try to hold back the tears as I close my eyes and imagine he’s here with me.

Chapter 13 I’m face first in a jungle of fur, which itself wouldn’t be so bad, but I’m hot as hell causing said fur to stick to me everywhere. Gross. I sit up slowly, wiping away the stay hairs that have momentarily attached themselves to my slick skin, my lips making a spitting sound as I attempt to keep the fur from entering my mouth. Thanks, Stud. “Now that right there is a hot look,” comes from behind me. I roll around in bed to see Max sitting in the chair where Jaxxon usually resides. A wide smile gracing his golden face. This man is always happy and

while I usually enjoy his infectious energy, he is way too chipper and alert for this early in the morning. He’s lazily slouched back in a pair of jeans, gray Tshirt, and a Virginia Tech hat, legs spread wide, hands resting on his thighs. Why is he in my room? “How did you get past Stud?” I question, frowning at my lazy furry friend. Some guard dog he is. “It’s not his fault. I trained him, so he knows me better than anyone. I also know the sounds to make to get him to stand down.” “Oh, well, then why are you in my room?” “I’m on Kalli duty today. Jaxxon has a few hours of meetings so I thought I

could get you out of the house.” His cheerful appearance never falters as he speaks. Jaxxon’s so-called meetings are probably an avoidance tactic after last night’s disaster, not that I blame the man. I’d hide under a rock and never see him again if it were an option. “Okay, that still doesn’t explain why you are in my room? How did I not even hear you come in?” This is concerning. How can I sleep so soundly with a crazy, kidnapping murderer after me? Then I remember the wine bottle I took to bed that is no doubt sitting empty on the floor next to me. I call this a Pinto GrigiOhhh moment. I thought these were in my past, but last night I let my emotions get the best of

me. His smile turns soft at my question. “This is where Jaxxon was when I got here. He asked me to take over his post, but I’ve got to say I’ve never had a woman complain so much about waking up with me in her bedroom.” He sends a small wink my way. Yeah, he’s definitely a master charmer. I guess Jaxxon didn’t honor my request to be left alone last night after all. Interesting. I ignore his flirtatious wink. “I’m going to shower, but Stud here would love a walk.” Stud’s ears twitch back and forth at the sound of his name. “I think I can handle that,” Max says

as he stands. He snaps his fingers twice, causing Stud to abruptly jump off the bed and go sit at Max’s feet, intently awaiting his next command. Max says nothing else as he exits my room, Stud mimicking his exact steps. Someone has to teach me all these cool commands! Freshly showered, I now feel ready to take on the day. “So what’s the plan?” I ask Max, who is casually leaning against the kitchen table. “We should go food shopping and get some things to make dinner. I’m sick of shit takeout and in desperate need of a real meal. And you can show me this bar you own, just get some fresh air and do ordinary activities.”

“Show you the bar? I thought Jaxxon said I wasn’t allowed to go there right now?” Max’s flashes me a half smile. “You can’t go back to work at the bar, but you can visit with one of us whenever you want, Kalli. We can keep you safe when your right at our side, but constantly scanning a crowd of one hundred people for Dominic while you work is impossible, even for Jaxxon. Dominic also kidnapped you from there, so we’d rather not dangle you in front of him if he’s watching the place.” I instantly feel some of the tension that has been suffocating my body dissipate. I’m not only getting out of this house, but I also get to be inside my bar

again. It also has been a long time since I did mundane things like wander around a grocery store. I burn water, but I’ll share that little bit of information with Max later. He jingles his keys, pulling me from my thoughts. I nod and lead the way out the door, putting my sunglasses on. Max beeps the locks as I look up to see his car, a panty-dropping four-door Porsche, metallic silver. Holy orgasmic car. A whistle leaves my lips. “Wow, sweet car Max. I didn’t know the government paid this well.” He laughs as he gets in. It isn’t until we are backing down the

driveway that he responds, “They don’t. This is Jaxxon’s car, not mine. We travel a lot, but Quantico is my home base, and my baby, Marley, my F1-50, is up there.” Wait. This is Jaxxon’s car? “How does Jaxxon afford this beauty? And if you’re driving his car how did he get to work today?” Max takes his eye off the road briefly as they swing my way, a confused expression covering his face. “He took his Range Rover to the office, and he affords it the same way Colton did,” he declares, his deep voice slightly hesitant. Colton. Just hearing someone say his name causes my chest tighten. My hand rubs

my throat on instinct before my brain catches up on the reflex motion. It takes effort to remember to breathe. Pulling myself back from the darkness lurking in my memories is a daily battle. I have to forcefully redirect my brain to focus on what Max just said. “I have no idea what that means.” “All right,” he replies slowly. “Then you need to ask Jaxxon because it’s truly not my business to tell.” Great. Just the person I want to talk to. Ugh. The amount of secrets that are slowly coming to light is starting to feel daunting. I don’t know if I even want to hear this apparently new development.

It’s getting harder to move past the pang my heart feels with every new deception. Before I realize it we are parked at Tapped That. Max looks up, then swings his perfect smile my way. “Really?” he bellows. I know he’s referring to the name of my bar. I laugh, exiting the car without responding. I grab my keys out of my purse and unlock the front door, the smell instantly calming my frazzled state. I’m surprised to see Harper sitting on the back countertop, rag in hand, furiously wiping down the liquor bottles that line the back wall. This is something we usually torture the newbies with as their initiation.

It’s ten a.m., why is she here so early? She still hasn’t come to visit me at Jaxxon’s house. We all grieve differently, and it’s no one’s place to judge how that’s handled. I grew up with these vastly different brothers, but they are twins and I understand that seeing Jaxxon guts her. I know she heard us come in, but she hasn’t made an effort to turn around to see who it is. “Hey, Harp.” Her manic dusting halts at my words. That bottle she’s holding was probably clean twenty minutes ago. She turns around giving me a half smile, her body tense. I can tell that I’m the last person she expected to see. He long black hair is braided down her back, she has on an oversized white V-neck shirt,

short jean shorts, and no shoes. Her face is makeup free, and besides the hint of dark circles under her eyes she looks beautiful. Her exotic emerald orbs go from me to look over my shoulder. Max. “This is Mr. November, my babysitter for the day.” A shit-eating grin breaks out on my face. Harper looks back at me, slowly turning her frown up. “Mr. November?” she questions, cocking her head to the side, inspecting Max. “You know, for the first edition of Hot Men in the FBI calendar. Since apparently being attractive is a job requirement.” Finally she graces me with a laugh, tension departing the room with the echoing sound.

“Aww yes, I’d totally enjoy a night in with that calendar. Should we start an online petition? Maybe take some test shots? Max, take off your shirt, will yah?” she jokes, reaching for her phone. “Ha ha, you two are hilarious,” he says, running his hand through his fohawk, mildly amused. “Hey, how did you know his real name?” I didn’t say it, did I? “Max here also has babysitting burden with me but only at night. Not sure why, he’s tight lipped about it all, but if he wants to make a dent in my chairs while I catch some Z’s, then whatever,” Harper says, with a shrug. I look to Max for some kind of explanation, but his amused face is now

a mask of indifference. These men give nothing away. “Oh….Anyway, Max and I are going to head to Daily Yums for some breakfast if you feel like joining?” I miss her desperately, but I don’t want to force her to be social if she isn’t in the mood. Her eyes stare at me for too long without responding, and I know why. She trying to think of a good excuse, one I won’t question. Harper is great at a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them. She says what she feels and what she’s thinking, consequences be damned. That’s why I was so shocked that she kept her relationship with Colton a secret. She still hasn’t spoken with me about that further, but I’ll wait until we

are alone to dive into that mess. “Maybe next time,” she finally answers. “By the way, Max told me that the dating profile is how that guy found you. I don’t even know what to say because sorry isn’t good enough. I never in a million years thought this could happen over an online profile, and I’ll never forgive myself for creating…” I don’t give her the opportunity to finish that asinine sentence as I step toward her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Don’t even think that. This is not your fault, and it kills me that you think that, so just stop.” All she does is nod, her head rubbing against mine before she pulls away. She walks behind the bar, grabs a stack of

papers, and makes her way back toward us. “I printed out and organized all the sales reports for every day you’ve been gone, payroll information and liquor orders too. I know you’ve already seen them in the emails, but I know how much you hate reading shit on the computer.” I silently take the papers from her, clutching them tight against my chest. My thoughtful Harper, spending her time organizing paperwork for me because she knows computers and I don’t get along. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I already print every email I receive in Jaxxon’s office. “Thank you for trusting me to help take care of things here, Kalli. I’ll see you guys later.” Her eyes swing between

Max and I before she turns and walks back to the liquor bottles. Once we are back in the car, I turn to Max. “Is she in danger? Is that why you stay with her at night?” He’s slow to answer. “It’s just a precaution. We knew she was a part of your life, but we didn’t know she was connected to Colton. After she came to the hospital, Jaxxon figured it out, and she was immediately assigned an agent detail. I wasn’t aware she was the creator of that profile because you didn’t tell us, or I would have never brought it up.” He speaks without taking his eyes off the road. My mood is somber as we arrive at Daily Yums, the best breakfast place in

Tampa. I’m instantly thankful that it’s surprisingly slow for a weekday morning. Max politely dictates to the hostess where he would like us to be seated, a booth in the back corner. I slide into the side of the booth that’s facing away from the door. I know why he requested this spot. It’s a vantage point where he can see the entire restaurant, along with anyone entering and exiting. Colton used to do the same thing. He liked to control the room. After placing our order with our matronly blonde waitress, we sip on our coffees in silence. That is until Max murmurs an “Aw, fuck.” “Well, look who it is,” comes from

behind me. As the voice comes into view, I instantly wonder if she is doing the walk of shame from last night. Her chest is squeezed into a way-too-small white crop top, her black mini skirt is completely wrinkled, and her chestnut brown hair is up in a messy bun at the top of her head. Her four-inch fireengine-red heels have black scuff marks going down the sides and her makeup looks recycled at best. Oh, and she smells like a bar. Total class. “Thought you said you were going to call me, Max?” she whines, as she leans toward him, cleavage leading the way. Max looks slightly irritated, his eyes impressively never leaving her face. He

leans back casually against the seat, swinging his arms up so they are resting on the top of the booth bench. “What gave you that impression?” he finally responds. Ouch. Her face morphs from deceptively sweet to fuming bitch instantly. That is clearly not the answer she was expecting or wanting. “It was implied after I let you take me home,” she hisses. She has yet to acknowledge me. What a skank! I could be his girlfriend, or worse his freaking wife! And she just waltzed up to our table like her shit don’t stink. Screw that nonsense.

Game on. “MaxyPoo, who is this? Didn’t we have a conversation about your indiscretions last month?” I ask, both their heads swinging my way. “You promised me,” I pout, trying my best not to laugh. His brow crinkles, frowning in confusion. I finally turn my attention to the walk of shame next to me, who finally has the good sense to shift away from Max. “I’m Maxine, Maxy’s wife. Our oldest of four, Maxium, has been stealing his little sister’s cabbage patch dolls saying that he needs his side piece just like his daddy. Ever since then Maxy here promised he would stop messing

around with all the South Tampa sluts who shamelessly throw themselves at him.” Both their mouths drop in shock, Max’s curving into a smirk immediately. “I’m not a slut!” she screeches at us. “Hun, a piece of advice, life isn’t a garden, so don’t act like a hoe.” I take my time slowly looking her up and down so it’s crystal clear to her that I’m surveying her less than fresh appearance. “It’s a Friday morning and you’re in a family joint dressed like it’s amateur night at the strip club. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to eat my breakfast without the risk of gagging, and if I have to continue to smell the booze from last night on you, I can’t promise that won’t

happen.” I snap my finger and flick my hand, shooing her away. “Off you go now.” She huffs her fire breath a few times, then looks at Max, who has since closed his mouth but hasn’t uttered a word or so much as moved during the entire encounter, and yells, “Don’t ever call me!” then scurries away. “You had no freaking idea what her name was? Right?” I inquire as the waitress places my plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, and hash browns down. Damn, I’m hungry. It takes me a few forkfuls to realize Max isn’t partaking in this deliciousness; he’s just staring at me. “What?” I ask, mouth full of food.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the shit, Maxine?” He chuckles. I wave my fork in a cheers, then continue to stuff my face with the nutrition my body badly needs.

Chapter 14 “What’s your last name?” I inquire as we peruse the fruit and vegetable section of Publix grocery store. He is oddly domestic, pushing the cart with ease, knowing exactly what he needs to buy. I confessed on our way over that I only knew how to microwave frozen dinners, not actually cook them, so he offered to show me a few easy dishes. “Hollen,” he says, moving onto the first aisle. “How old are you?” I interrogate further. “Twenty-nine.” “Are you single?” He stops pushing, looking over at

me, “Yeah. Why? You interested?” he playfully flirts. I give him my best get-real face and continue walking. “Just curious about you, that’s all.” Max is a strikingly good looking man, but not my type. I apparently like them perpetually moody, completely uninterested, and emotionally unavailable. “Shit, I forgot the parsley. Don’t move,” he commands, as he bolts back to get what he forgot. Moving to take control of the cart, I grip the handlebar and lean forward. I’m over this shopping business and we’ve only been here ten minutes. Domestic I am not. An eerie sensation flows through me

as the hairs on the back of my neck prick to attention. I raise my head to see a man standing in the middle of the opposite end of the aisle. He’s wearing a black Tshirt, black cargo pants, has no cart and no basket. His arms are dangling listlessly at his sides, hands empty, and fingers dancing. Even from ten yards away I recognize who this is. Dominic Hall. My heart explodes in my chest as my throat constricts from panic. I release the cart and take a shaky step back. I should run, shout for Max, but I’m paralyzed. The sight of the man who killed Colton right in front of me is proving to be too much. It’s in this moment that I understand

I’m truly not as strong as I feel, the realization hitting me like a sledgehammer. This is why I can’t be alone. “You finally see me,” he states, his menacing voice transporting me right back to that horrifying night. This is what he wanted, for me to know who he is. He makes no attempt to come any closer as he just stares at me. My hand goes to my throat, willing a breath to enter my lungs. I haven’t had a panic attack this severe in weeks. “All right, now on to sauces,” Max announces, as he rounds the corner. My hand has now moved from my neck to my chest, heavy pants leaving me. Unable to speak, I watch as it takes Max

two seconds to read the situation. He quickly scans me, then darts his eyes over my shoulder. I see the exact moment he processes who that man is. The energy around us turns static as Max transforms into a fearsome beast. In a flash his gun is drawn and he’s shouting, moving in on Dominic. I can’t decipher what he’s saying though, my lightheaded brain no longer comprehending words. My knees give out as I hit the tile floor with a violent thud. Max must hear my fall because his movement forward halts, and he starts back stepping, blocking me entirely from Dominic’s view. Another man putting his life on the

line for me. Max swings around and runs the few steps it requires to reach me, phone to his ear. My eyes close as I try to focus on my counting. Counting helps me breathe, and air would be great right about now. As I count out loud I feel Max’s fingers intertwine with mine. I may not know him well, but it’s comforting having him here with me. “…send backup to Publix on Henderson Blvd. Suspect left on foot moving west out the front parking lot. No shots fired, too many civilians in the vicinity…Jaxxon, she was out of my sight for literally one minute, and he didn’t get near her. She’s sitting on the

ground working through it. I’ve got her hand, but I’m not touching her otherwise. I got it…I got it. I said I got it, Jaxxon!” Finally able to gain my bearings, humiliation engulfs me. Tears pool inside my lids, but I fight to keep them from falling. “I couldn’t move,” I whisper. Max’s grip tightening within mine. “I just…I couldn’t…he got away and I couldn’t do anything. He murdered Colton, and I just let him walk away. How could I do that? I should have tackled his ass!” I shout, as I hang my head. As twisted as it is, I’ve fantasized about killing this man with my bare hands, and here I’m given the perfect opportunity and I choke. Not only did I fail completely, but I’m having

a meltdown on top of it. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sprawled out on the floor, but it’s been long enough for a crowd of gawking bystanders to gather. I look up at Max, completely defeated. “Home,” I beg.

Chapter 15 As I place my hair straightener on the bathroom countertop, I inhale a deep cleansing breath. It’s safe to say that I no longer look like Kalliope Winters. The transformation is striking. Looking into the mirror, I study my new reflection. On the drive home, as we passed a Walgreens, I screamed for Max to stop. Not wanting to veer off course, he made it clear that he thought it would be best if we just went straight to the house. I pulled the tampon card. I was desperate. This also assured me that he wouldn’t follow me down the aisles and even though I was never out of his sight, he was too busy scanning around us to

be bothered with what I was buying. Once I had the goods I needed, we were back on the road. Now here I stand, my feet surrounded by piles of hair that I have just chopped to my shoulders, hair and eyebrows now jet black. My dark blue eyes popping out like never before. I don’t look like me at all, so my goal is now accomplished. It is safe to say that I might be having a complete mental collapse, just more of the silent variety. “Why aren’t you with her? I told you that she doesn’t leave your goddamn sight again!” Jaxxon roars at Max. Looks like he’s home. “Jaxxon, man, she’s in the bathroom, a bathroom that has no window. I think

she’s okay in there,” he defends. Thinking now is a good time to intervene, I exit the bathroom, flinging my bedroom door open. Both their heads swing toward me as I walk down the hall. “Holy shit!” Max shrieks, running a hand down his face while simultaneously taking a large step away from Jaxxon. He throws both his hands up in defeat. “She said she needed tampons, dude.” He yells as he turns to me, “Do you want to see me get my ass kicked?” Jaxxon hasn’t moved since I entered the room, his statuesque frame not flinching at the new look I’m rocking. We haven’t seen each other since last

night’s disastrous seduction attempt. I walk in between the two men to get to my destination, the fridge. It’s way past my mandated cocktail hour. After I’ve had my first delicious sip, I walk over to the living room and sit on the couch. Stud is sprawled out, snoring on the plush navy dog bed Jaxxon bought him. “Get out,” Jaxxon demands behind me. I know he’s talking to Max. I make a mental note to apologize to him later. He shouldn’t have to take a beating for my deception. I did trick him after all. My grip tightens on my wine glass as I hear the front door slam shut. Jaxxon’s legs obstruct my view as he appears right in my space. I hate that he

moves like a ghost. “I already know why, but I want to hear you say it,” his tone clipped, yet oddly gentle. I make no attempt to look up at him or speak, as I stare at his muscular legs. Man those trunks are truly huge. He finally squats down into my sightline, reaching his arm out, slowly sliding his hand across the side of my neck. I hate that I moan at his touch, which is slow and tender. Then he forcefully clasps the back of my neck, tilting my head to look up at him. His penetrating onyx beauties immerse in mine, reading into my soul. “Eyes up, now say it,” he orders with more force. “Now I look nothing that

psychopath’s dead wife. I look nothing like the other girls he tortured. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I shout, not able to keep my emotions in check. It’s been a crap afternoon. His rigid features relax slightly at my words. His hand that is still touching me starts to faintly massaging the back of my neck. I want to sigh again. He’s giving me the touch I crave, but it doesn’t mean the same to him. He’s just trying to comfort his assignment. “He won’t touch you, Kalli. If I have it my way, he won’t be alive long enough to even think about how to get anywhere near you again, and I usually always get my way.” His ferocious attitude is

frightening. “That’s not very law abiding of you.” I force out a bogus small smile, trying to lighten this conversation. “Babe, not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your typical agent. This man has killed countless innocent women, maybe more than we currently know, and his end game for you is the same fate. He would have raped you if he had the time, and he shot Colton in cold blood. He doesn’t deserve to breathe, let alone the right to a trial by jury. So I’ll gladly ends his time on this earth to insure he can’t destroy anyone else. Does that bother you?” He releases his grip on me, standing back up. I have to crane my neck to keep eye contact.

“Absolutely not,” I say honestly. “I just don’t want you to get dragged down by him.” He graces me with truly a beautiful sight, a sincere dimpled smile. “No chance.” Cocky bastard. I guess I have to trust that he’s skilled enough to know how to pull this off. He rounds the couch and starts to walk away. “Kalli?” he calls back a few seconds later. “Yeah?” I make no effort to turn around. “You were gorgeous before, but now you’re a total knockout.”

His words effectively knock the wind out of me. I hear him shut the door behind him as he enters either his bedroom or office. His words have the opposite effect than he probably assumes though. They sting, deep. He’s the most confusing man I’ve ever met. He’s shot down every advance I’ve thrown at him, only to tell me he thinks I’m a total knockout? Who does that? I angrily swipe the tears that are cascading down my cheek as I grab the remote and pretend to watch whatever pops up on the screen.

Chapter 16 This morning Jaxxon reluctantly gave me the keys to his Porsche, telling me that I was free to go wherever I needed. It has been two weeks since my encounter with Dominic and having a constant babysitter is starting to take its mental toll. He must have been able to sense my growing irritation, so he gave me my freedom. Well, not that much freedom. My first stop was CVS for some girly essentials, hair products and all the other random items one gets sucked into buying while perusing the aisles. I mean seriously who can get out of a CVS without dropping at least fifty dollars? Not this girl.

While scanning the latest Maybelline long-lasting lip colors, I randomly peeked my head up only to see Jaxxon a few yards away. Weird. At first I just assumed he needed something too. I mean, the man doesn’t require copious amounts of product to look sexy as sin, but maybe some hair gel? My second stop was Tapped That. As Bobby and I reviewing the upcoming schedule in a corner booth, Jaxxon didn’t even attempt to hide himself as he stood guard at the front door. After a few other random errands, I realized that he was going to shadow me everywhere, because that is his job.

Instead of being grateful that he was keeping me safe, I was aggravated, thus the beginning of my childish game of trying to lose ice-cold agent Jaxxon. Now here I stand in the dark back ally of club Prana, staring at this complete stranger I picked up at the bar and decided to leave with, regretting this game. It started off slow. I took a wrong turn here or went through a yellow light there, but he still always found me, consistently one step behind my every move. So I decided to raise the stakes on my game. I also needed a night to just completely let loose, forget that my life has spiraled into the toilet. In the past my nights of debauchery

generally consisted of hanging out past closing at Tapped That with Harper and Colton, but that isn’t an option anymore. I craved some kind of social interaction that didn’t involve looks of pity or include anyone who is being compensated to be in my presence. I had it all planned out so that Jaxxon couldn’t find me. I called a cab from the house while he was in his office and turned off my cell phone so he couldn’t track me. I overheard him saying that he had a conference call at 8pm, so that became my escape time. In hindsight, going to a bar stag with the intent of getting wasted while also trying to gain Jaxxon’s attention seems so unnecessary. I may be a twenty-

seven-year-old adult, but I feel like a desperate sixteen-year-old right now. “I think I made a mistake,” I blurt out, as I shake my hand free from the handsome stranger’s grasp. I don’t remember his name, or even how we ended up in this back ally. God, I’m a mess. He had approached me at the bar, slinging his charm like a seasoned pro, and I ate it up. He hadn’t refused my advances like Jaxxon, but now I’m wishing he had. As I take a few steps back from him, vertigo swirls my vision. As I try to gain my footing I peer up at him. He’s grinning at me like he just won the lottery. It sends a chill down my body; how I was ever attracted to this

alarming man, I don’t know. I also recognize why my balance is now nonexistent. I’ve been drinking, but I can handle my wine. “You drugged me,” I slur. It’s a statement, not a question. I’ve been doped up on enough drugs for the past month to know exactly what it feels like, and this twat has definitely impaired me in the unauthorized pill fashion. He moves faster than I can register as he grabs me by the forearms and slams me up against a concrete wall. I feel the blow from my head to my heels. He shoves his face into the side of my neck and sniffs me. Sniffs me.

Yuck. “It’s just a little something to make you feel better, baby girl,” he confesses into my ear. As his hands constrict tighter around my flesh, pure instinct kicks in. “I’m not your baby girl,” I force out as I raise my leg, slamming my knee into his balls. He instantly releases me as he falls to the ground with a grunt. “You bitch!” he moans, grabbing at his package while rocking in a fetal position. My palms scrape against the wall as I lean back for leverage. Everything feels lopsided, like I’m trying to walk on a rotating floor carnival ride. I need to run, but it’s just not an option. I’ve had

this dream before, where Dominic Hall is coming right at me and I can’t run away. I watch helplessly, crouched against the cement as he raises from the ground and limps toward me. “I’m going to enjoy making you pay for that,” he bites out, wiping the sweat from his forehead onto his sleeve. Our eyes make contact as he comes within inches of me, he pulls his arm back, the intended punch clear. I do the only thing I can, I raise my bleeding hands to cover my face, wishing I still had my cast on for extra protection, close my eyes and slide down the wall to the ground hoping that the punch doesn’t hurt as much as I expect.

I wait. I feel nothing. He didn’t hit me? My eyes open just in time to witness my drug-slinging predator propel though the air. His body slams into the ground with a ferocious smash. Instantly a huge shadow is on top of him, punching him with ruthless violence. His arms and legs flail around, doing a piss poor job of protecting himself from the beating, a mixture of grunts and moans coming from their direction. I don’t get a good look at the man who saved me until his face pulls up and is illuminated by the street lamp. He found me. Jaxxon finds his control, stopping his

vicious assault. He grabs him by the shirt, pulling him into his face. “You like your women helpless, you piece of garbage. I’ll make sure you know what it feels like when you’re in prison. Now tell me exactly what the fuck you gave her?” This is the Jaxxon Brady who has killed. “D-dude, she wanted it! That whore was all over me at the bar,” he screeches back. Hands attempting to cover his face from further beatings. “She wanted it so much that you had to drug her to get it? You’re lucky I already called this in because I really want to teach you a goddamn lesson right now. You have the right to remain

silent…” I listened from the ground as Jaxxon reads him his rights, puts him in handcuffs and makes him disappear into a van that I hadn’t even heard pull up. I’m seeing double as he stalks back toward me, his beautiful features shining through his current livid exterior. Jaxxon wordlessly reaches down, effortlessly scooping me off the cement and cradles me into his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, not able to filter myself as I snuggle my head into his warm chest. His arms constrict, securing me tighter in his grasp. “Jesus Christ, Kalli,” he breathes into my hair. I tilt my head to get a perfect view of

his face. His hypnotizing black eyes are trained right on me, concern I’ve never seen from him evident in their depths. “He drugged me.” I pout like the small child I feel against his massive frame. His face releases tension as he sighs, “I know, gorgeous. I’ve got you now.” I lower my face back to his chest as I start to rub my hands over his hard muscles, right above his heart. It feels fantastic to put my hands on him. “I messed up. You didn’t want me, outright rejected me actually. I just wanted to feel something. I miss him so much it hurts, and I just wanted to feel something other than hurt,” I mumble out not even sure if what I’m saying is

understandable. I feel us moving, but if Jaxxon responds to my words I don’t hear him. “No hospital, no more hospitals,” I mumble, praying he can hear me. I can’t go back there. Soft lips lightly press against my forehead as I drift away.

Chapter 17 I’m pressed up against something sizzling and rigid. God, I’m so sticky. I need air. As I go to move away from the source of uncomfortable heat, I feel strong arms constrict around me. My eyes spring open. It’s pitch black. I’m lying in a bed and by lying I mean firmly plastered on top of a naked male chest. My face rests on his pec muscle, arms spread around him, one of my legs in between his, the other resting outside. If I didn’t feel the clothing covering my body, he could literally be inside me. Jeez, what the hell did I do now? “Relax,” he commands, his familiar voice instantly soothing my nerves.

He makes no move to release me, so I angle my head up. I can see the outline of him, not much else, but I know he’s returning my gaze. Looks like I get to add tonight to the list of ways I’ve embarrassed myself in front of Jaxxon. Awesome. “It’s hot,” I say softly, trying to keep my unknown breath out of his face. “You could have pushed me off, you know.” I’m trying to make light of the fact that in my drugged-up state I’ve painted myself on him. “I put you like this,” he responds, no joking evident. “Oh…Why?” “You asked for no hospital, and I couldn’t relax without knowing you

were still breathing, so feeling your body rise and fall against mine is how I chose to do it.” Wow. That’s some serious job commitment. “I’m breathing,” I assure him. Although our current position is causing me to feel totally breathless. “You going to pass out again? Or are we going to talk about how stupid that stunt you pulled tonight was?” I can feel the fury coming off him in waves. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. What I should really say is “I’m sorry that I pulled a desperate, childish move to get your attention,” but I can’t bring myself to admit it out loud.

“I should turn your ass bright red. Jesus, Kalli. You aren’t invincible, but you sure love to act like it. If I were anyone else, you would be at least a rape victim right now, at worst a homicide case, but I figured out your play long before you knew you were even making it. You would have never made it into the ally with him if it weren’t for some broad grabbing onto my arm as I was following you out.” “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.” “I didn’t suspect you did, but you almost became a statistic tonight, and then I would have had to slaughter that asshole. And Kalli, I don’t enjoy digging holes.” Ashamed, I hang my head, my hair

creating a shield around me. This isn’t who I am, what I do. Then again I’m not even sure who I am anymore. I’m lost. “I’m done,” I push out softly, and I am, with all of it. His arms finally release me, but they don’t go far. They move to my face. His massive hands gliding my short hair from my vision, pulling back until I’m forced to lock my gaze with his. “Eyes, babe,” he demands. Without breaking that contact he flips us, his weight hitting me like a train, triggering a moan from my lips. His solid body engulfing my tiny frame, igniting a different kind of heat inside me. His hands move, now cupping my

cheeks. “Yes, you’re absolutely done.” Then his mouth is on mine. His lips soft, yet his kiss demanding. It takes only seconds for me to get over the shock and comply with what he wants, opening myself to him. His magical tongue is in perfect rhythm with mine. It’s by far the most passionate kiss I’ve ever had. I feel it deep in my soul. He rocks back and forth on top of me, the friction turning me on more. My hands trace their way down his back, until Jaxxon grabs them, pushing both above my head where he holds them hostage. My heart pounding out of my chest as he looks down, giving me his devastating dimpled smile.

He stops all movement and lifts himself marginally off me while still keeping my arms firmly in place with his. I crave his lips back. His smile falls as his face darkens. Serious Jaxxon is back in place. “Tell me you want this,” he demands, his grip tightening on my writs. Is he serious? “Tell me,” he repeats, his stare not wavering from mine. “Always,” I respond, voice breathy. I’ve wanted this with Jaxxon since I was old enough to know what sex was. I’ve yearned for him to want me. He releases my hands, slowly sliding his down the curves of my body until he reaches the hem of my dress. In one

swift motion he pulls the garment up over my head and off completely, tossing it to the ground. I’m now completely naked with Jaxxon Brady, his view illuminated only by the moonlight glow from the window. “Gorgeous, so goddamn gorgeous,” he murmurs as he kisses his way up my stomach and in between my breasts. His hands secure themselves on my rib cage. I feel like I’m going to explode when his mouth attaches to my nipple, sucking lightly. “Jaxxon,” I moan, as I arch off the mattress. His mouth moves to my other breast as his hands leave me. He leans on one arm, using his other to take off his

sweatpants. I feel when his cock is free, the tip of his shaft pressing against my nub. The sensation sends me into a frenzy of pulsating need. I push my pelvis toward him, aching to feel him inside me. “Not yet, babe,” he breathes into my mouth as he continues his beautiful mouth assault. A frustrated growl leaves my lips, I can’t help it. I feel his cocky laugh against my skin, his amusement at my torture evident. He brings his hand to my mouth, slowly rubbing two fingers along my lower lip. “Suck,” he orders, pushing them between my willing lips. His black eyes merging with the darkness so well that I

can only see light reflecting off their dark surface. He’s watching intently, waiting for me to comply. I lightly run my tongue down his fingers before engulfing them both. Who knew a man demanding you to suck his fingers could be so freaking erotic. He extracts them, only to replace his lips. His fingers find my opening, as he thrusts them gently inside me. “Yessss,” I moan, his motion precise, giving me exactly what I need. His fingers are clearly magical. “You’re so ready for me, Kalli. You better be sure about this because once you take my cock you’re mine,” he growls. “I’m sure.” I pant as his fingers leave

my aching core. I was getting so close. “As much as I’d love to watch you let go right now, you’re doing it with me inside you, not my hand.” Always so controlling, not that I mind right now. His lips re-engage with mine, his hands once again controlling my wrists against the headboard above as he slowly enters me. The fullness is pure bliss. The connection one I never want to break. He stops, releasing my wrists, allowing my body time to adjust to the much wanted intrusion. “Gorgeous, relax for me little,” he requests, as he rubs his nose down my cheek. Does he think I’m not relaxed?

It isn’t until he moves again that I understand his request. I inhale in a large breath as I move my hands to his back, my nails digging into his flesh as Jaxxon pushes even further, seated deeper inside me than any man ever has. Jesus, he’s enormous everywhere. I guess what they say about big hands is true. The slight pinching sensation I experience quickly dissipates, replaced with pure need. “Please move,” I whine, my body desperate for him. And move he does, but not fast. Jaxxon worships my body, taking me to the brink of pleasure. He’s gentle yet giving me exactly what I crave. My

orgasm takes me by surprise, rocketing through my entire body. Jaxxon, able to feel my release, speeds up his own movements. I feel him let go, as he comes deep inside me. He stills above me, tucking his head into my neck, kissing me lightly. After a few minutes of catching our breath, he grips the back of my head and slowly rolls us over, him still inside me, so I am now draped on top of him. To say this move is impressive would be an understatement. As my senses return, the realization of what just happened hits me like a Mack truck. I cross my hands over his sweat glistened chest, resting my chin on top of them as he slowly strokes the back of my

hair. “Why did you turn me down before?” His hand stills for a moment. “I needed to make sure.” “Make sure of what?” He blows a loud breath out of his nose, his relaxed eyes never leaving mine. “You are legally married to my brother, you’ve lived with him for years, and you guys were inseparable from the start. I needed to make sure that in your grief you weren’t trying to replace him with his identical twin brother. Colton didn’t share the nature of your relationship with anyone, so I had to figure it out on my own. I had to make sure you weren’t his before I made you mine.”

I shake my head at his ridiculous statement, “I’m not an iPad, Jaxxon, jeez. And I already explained that it wasn’t like that.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind me ear. “Yes, you did. This goes a long way back for me, so I needed to be confident in my move. Do you remember staying with us after your folks passed away? How Colton would slip into your bed so you weren’t alone with the nightmares? That was me, babe, not him.” “What?” I breathe out, racking my brain to remember. Nights were always the worst for me. It was harder to fight back my demons in the dark, and Colton was there every single night combating

them for me, or so I thought. “It was always me, gorgeous. Every fucking night. But it wasn’t the right time for us, so I let you think I was him.” Holy smokes. I let this revelation resonate in my mind as I fold myself into the side of his body, his muscular arm securely cradling me against him. For the first time in longer than I can remember I feel truly protected. “Can I ask you something personal?” His body shakes against mine with laughter. “I think we passed personal a good hour ago.” So true. “Right. So how do you afford all this? I mean the house and the cars? It

seems like a lot for a single man.” His head lifts off the pillow, his chin tilting down to look at me. “Say again?” “I mean….I don’t know what your salary is but a Porsche, a Range Rover, and this house? It all must cost a ton.” “Kalli, I afford all this the same way Colton did.” His words mirror Max’s from earlier. “Colton? We rented our condo, and he drove an Explorer. That doesn’t exactly scream baller status.” “Babe, are you jacking me around right now?” he asks, his face totally serious. “What? I’m so confused.” I shake my head.

“Mimi was loaded, old family money. She left Colton and I everything when she passed.” Mimi was their grandmother. I didn’t know her well, as she passed away when we were young, ten maybe, but I knew she was loved dearly by both brothers. Her financial status had never been shared with me. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” I can’t control the hitch in my voice. “Seems there’s a lot I didn’t know about Colton.” “He seriously never said anything?” “Nope, I had no clue. Maybe he didn’t think it was enough to mention?” “Millions, babe,” Jaxxon says without breaking eye contact.

Millions! Jesus. “Well, that explains the savings account,” he says, mostly to himself. “The what?” I ask, as millions repeats in my mind. “Colton created a savings account your freshman year and has made continuous deposits ever since. The account is in your name, and you are the only authorized user who can withdraw the funds. It has $64,000 and change. Math skills aren’t why the Bureau recruited me, but if I had to guess I’d say that’s what nine years’ worth of rent equals. Colton owns that condo you guys lived in, and he’s a Brady. Bradys take care of their women. I’ll get you the account information.”

This can’t be true. I can’t handle any more surprises from the grave. I break away from Jaxxon, stretching my body across his to grab his phone off the bedside table. I shove it in his face needing him to enter his password. “Calculator, please,” I demand. He taps away, then hands it back to me. Colton had been so excited about this epic condo he discovered on Craigslist where the owner traveled a lot and was just looking for long-term renters so they didn’t have to worry about the place. That was how we got an amazing deal of $600 a month each, all inclusive. It was also all I could afford after the debts and tuition had been paid off from my

family’s estate sale. But it wasn’t a deal at all. It was me being played by my best friend. I drop the phone on his chest, rotating my body away from his, my face now resting on his hard biceps. Angry tears drip from my eyes. I am so sick of crying. “I don’t want it,” I say, managing to keep my shaky voice veiled. “Give it to Gloria, donate it, leave it there for all I care, but I don’t want it.” “Babe.” “He lied to me. For years, he lied to me. I just…I can’t think about this right now. I just want to get some rest,” I say softly. “I can feel your tears, Kalli.”

I don’t respond because I genuinely have nothing left to say. I’m gutted by everything my dead best friend left behind for me to discover, but he only left it behind because he sacrificed his life to save mine. The contradicting emotions drain what little energy I have left, leaving me depressed and utterly exhausted. This is not how I wanted my dream night with Jaxxon Brady to end, but I guess life rarely works out the way we have it planned in our minds. I rub my face into his arm, hoping he knows I heard him but I just want to drop it. He must get me because he’s soundless as I give in to my fatigue.

Chapter 18 There is something strangely sexual about a man playing with his dog in the park. The movement of tight muscle as he tosses the ball for Stud to retrieve. Dressed in only basketball shorts and a white T-shirt, his impressive physique and mouthwatering tattoos are totally on display. A slight sheen of sweat appears on his forehead, somewhat masked by his Ray-Ban aviators, a relaxed smile on his devastatingly sexy face. Any heterosexual female would find this man sexy as sin. The park bench full of swooning women drooling at the sight of my man only proves my point further. This place is seriously a hot box of bored housewives looking for their next

husband. Over the past week this dog park has become my happy place. Freed from the confines and restrictions of being inside the house, my dog got his much needed exercise, and I got to ogle Jaxxon’s impressive assets. From what I’ve gathered from bits of overheard phone conversations there hasn’t been much progress in locating Dominic. Jaxxon has been less than forthcoming on the search details. I can’t tell if he’s trying to shelter me or attempting to control my emotional state. Probably both. Jaxxon moved all of my belongings into his room after our first night together. I considered putting up a fight

since he didn’t even ask me if I wanted this, but as soon as I realized that he would now get to sleep in his actual bed instead of the small chair in my room, I let it go. If controlling where I sleep results in him being more rested and alert then it was worth it to me. His job is dangerous, and I’ll do anything I can to make it less so. As we return from the park, Stud makes a beeline right for his water bowl in the kitchen as I head for the bedroom to change into my lazy sweats. As I round the corner my movement into Jaxxon’s bedroom is abruptly halted by a loud, shrieking noise. I turn my head just in time to see a beautiful, and I do mean beautiful,

totally naked woman, spread eagle on top of the comforter of his bed. Jaxxon is inches behind me. “What the fuck?” Her reaction time is slow, making three things immediately clear to me. This chick waxes everything, if I ever need plastic surgery I should ask her for a referral, and she definitely knows Jaxxon intimately. She finally has the good sense to roll herself into the comforter, sheltering her nude body from our view. “Oh my God! I heard that you were back in town and it’s been so long since we’ve…um, I mean, I figured you would be alone, because you’re always alone here and I wanted to surprise you. Oh

gosh,” she squeals, her voice still an octave above normal, clutching the blanket to her chest. She actually looks similar to me, well the old version of me where my blonde hair is flowing down my back, my chest is anatomically augmented, and my body is free of all my battle wound scars. It takes a lot of effort to not feel self-conscious about how I look compared to her. She’s flawless. Jaxxon gently moves me aside as he strides into the room, positioning himself in front of me. “Jesus, Carly. Are you serious with this bullshit? Have I ever seemed like the type of man who likes random surprises in his home? I’m armed, for fuck’s sake. Never mind the

breaking and entering you just committed into a Fed’s home, I could have killed you!” Her mouth forms a perfect O as her face swarms with pink. As his true words sink in, she tilts her head down, clearly mortified. I actually feel for her. This situation is outrageously uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Jaxxon. I wasn’t thinking. I came to say hi and the front door was cracked open, so I came in looking for you, then I got this crazy idea and well, here I am.” Time for me to exit this show. I back out the door as fast as I can without looking like I’m scattering away. Jaxxon has never mentioned any

relationships here in Tampa, and he claimed he wasn’t currently seeing anyone, so who is this woman? He’s not an open book, but he wouldn’t deceive me by having a secret relationship like Justin. As I hastily make my way down the hall, Max appears. “What’s wrong?” Urgency laced in his voice, his head moves rapidly, likely trying to assess what I’m running from. “Long story,” I reply softly. I need wine. Max watches me closely as I walk over to the kitchen, pour myself a hefty glass of Chardonnay, and lean all my weight against the island. Sounds of footsteps have both our

heads swinging to the hallway. Jaxxon and Carly make their way into our kitchen party. Max’s face scrunches at the sight of them together. Carly, now thankfully dressed, is clutching her purse to her stomach, not looking at either Max or me. “Someone was in the house, left the door cracked because they wanted me to know that they can get in here,” Jaxxon informs Max. “I need you to do an outside sweep and check the back cameras. Also, I need you to walk Carly to her car. She said she’s parked on the street.” “Got it,” Max says as he strolls toward the front door where Carly is already making her silent exit.

“Kalli?” I swing my head toward Jaxxon’s voice, pointing my finger at him. “So you mean to tell me that you, Mr. Badass, ice cold, panic-button-wielding federal agent just got his security breached by that woman? Wow, I bet that’s a huge hit to the ego, huh? Must sting.” I’m trying to joke like I’m unaffected by the last ten minutes, but it comes out bitchy, truthful. Jaxxon moves directly across the kitchen island from me. “Babe, I wasn’t a monk before we got together.” “I get that, Jaxxon. So are there anymore flawless, buck-ass-naked women who are going to magically appear in your bed? Because I should

make something perfectly clear before that happens. I don’t play well with others, and I definitely don’t share.” “Carly was casual, she knew the score when we started, and I haven’t seen her or even spoken to her in more than six months. And if I recall correctly, your more recent ex graced my doorstep not long ago.” I raise my wine to my mouth, taking a substantial sip, giving myself time to think of a good response to that. He has a point. “Well…at least his dong wasn’t in your face.” His sinful dimples carve into his cheeks. “Babe, definitely not jealous of another guy’s junk.”

Ugh, whatever. “Looks like you have a type when it comes to appearances. My body used to look like that before I was butchered,” I grumble, instantly regretting the self-conscious comment. He moves fast, circling the island, removing the wine from my hands then grasping my face between both of his. “My type is Kalliope Winters, in any form that she comes. Your body is perfection to me. I informed Carly that we were into something serious and that she wouldn’t be seeing me again, ever. She got it. Now I need you to get it. This is real between us. I did not tell her I was in town, I did not call her, and I definitely didn’t invite her into our home. She knows that if she ever

decides to get a wild hair to surprise a man, it won’t be me. You get me?” I nod my head. “Don’t ever question that body of yours, Kalli. Your confidence is as alluring as all of your other features, and those are vast, but Dominic could have carved your face up and you’d still be standing here as my woman.” His sincere words melt my heart. “You’re a good man, Jaxxon Brady,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, babe. But that story is for another day. I need to check the house now.” He leans down, kissing my forehead before pulling away.

He pours my wine down the kitchen sink, pulls out his phone, and starts walking down the hallway. I grab a bottle of water and park it on the couch, patting the spot next to me so that Stud jumps up. Jaxxon doesn’t normally allow him on the couch, but I need some doggy cuddles right now. My hands are lost in Stud’s fluffy head when Max strolls back into the house and plops down next to us, dropping a large black duffel bag at his feet. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the bag. “Harper kicked me out, so I’m staying here with you guys until this case is over.”

“What do you mean she kicked you out? Weren’t you assigned to protect her?” He huffs out a breath, his eyes not leaving the television as his hand rakes through his already disheveled blonde fohawk. “I was until she requested someone else take over. Jamison did, so here I am.” I’ve heard Jaxxon mention Jamison in passing before, but I’ve never actually met him. “What did you do?” I know Harper; she wouldn’t just kick him to the curb for the fun of it. She hates unnecessary drama and certainly wouldn’t want to disrupt the case in any way. Max reaches for the remote on the

coffee table and turns the volume down. We sit in silence for a few seconds, only the muffled sounds of Jaxxon barking commands on his phone is heard. “I made a move,” he says quietly. “I made a move, and it didn’t end so well.” My relaxed posture straightens at his words as my head whips toward him. “What do you mean, you made a move?” “I’ve been watching over her for weeks now, staying in that dump she calls an apartment, an apartment Colton should have gotten her out of long ago, by the way. That place is terrible, and no single woman should have to live there, especially one that looks like her. I know she doesn’t accept help and would have fought him with claws, but it’s a fight he

should have put up. And before you ask, yes, I know about her relationship with Colton and how this has completely gutted her, but I feel something when I’m with her, something I haven’t felt in a long time. I thought maybe she felt it too, the way I’d catch her looking at me, so I made a move. I didn’t get the reaction I wanted, she asked me to leave, so I gave that to her.” Harper has a tiny one-bedroom cinderblock apartment in Ybor, the hood of Tampa Bay. Her neighbors are thunderous, and the daily crime far exceeds the Hyde Park area where I lived with Colton, but it’s hers and she is proud of it. She had a crap childhood, but she got

herself out, got herself a scholarship to the University of Tampa and has been at my bar ever since. I know the kinds of tips she pulls in nightly. It’s far more than one may imagine, so where all her money is going is a mystery. I can’t count the number of times I tried to get her to move in with us, but those attempts only caused a rift. It wounds me that he thinks we didn’t care enough to try. “You think I haven’t tried to get her out of that shithole? That I want one of my closest friends to feel fear every night she returns home late from the bar? That I want her to live there? You say you’ve been with her for weeks, right? Then you get how she is.” My fuming

tone is just below a yell. “I didn’t know about the relationship she had with Colton because neither of them decided to share with me, but I knew him and he would have done everything he could to get her out of there. Colton also knew when to back off. Something you clearly need to learn since you’re sitting here on the couch, homeless, from pushing her too far.” Max just nods his head, a thin frown plastered on his stunning face. He closes his eyes and leans his head back until it connects with the black leather behind him. “She’s a pain in the ass,” he says after a beat. “Yes, she is.”

“She’s also amazing.” Harper Sloan definitely is. “I get it, Max, but you knew Colton. He’s not a man a girl just gets over because he’s gone, and if Harper let him in then he was in deep with her.” “I just don’t agree with some of the choices he made in regards to her. There are things that could have been handled with more care,” he says through gritted teeth. “I don’t agree with a lot of the choices Colton made in keeping stuff from me either, but I have to trust that he had his reasons.” “I guess.” He hands the remote to me, kicks his feet up onto the trunk coffee table, resting his hands behind his

head. “What are we watching?” “Arrow. He actually looks like you now that I think of it! If he had your stellar haircut.” “Ugh, women and their shows,” he fake whines, a devilish grin appearing. I’m so enthralled in Arrow that I don’t hear Jaxxon walk up behind us. He hands Max a beer, then rounds the corner of the couch beside me. He snaps his fingers twice, causing Stud to instantly jump off the couch and meander over to his dog bed, lying down in a huff. “Slide over, gorgeous.” I slide toward Max and Jaxxon takes the corner. I’m still getting comfortable in my new spot as his arm hooks around my waist, dragging me into him, my back

pressed tight against his front. He leans down, kissing my neck a few times as his hand slides from my waist down my leg where it settles on my thigh. His touch causes a shiver to engulf my body. I can tell from the surprised expression on Max’s face that Jaxxon hasn’t shared the new nature of our relationship, but the Brady boys never did like to explain themselves, and Max clearly knows better than to ask. I tilt my head to the side so Jaxxon knows I’m talking to him. “Is the house okay?” “Yeah, it’s clear. Cameras didn’t pick up anything, but they were just aimed at the back door. I’ve got someone coming to install a full surveillance

system in the morning. I also spoke with Jamison. Your girl is fine since I know you’re probably concerned. And you”— he points the top of his longneck beer bottle at Max—“and I will have words later, man.” “I figured as much,” Max replies guiltily, as he takes a sip of his Bud. Once everyone is settled, I start Arrow again. I thought he would say something sooner, but it takes Jaxxon a full five minutes to comment on my choice of show. “Babe, this guy is wearing tight green leather pants by choice, and I’m supposed to take him seriously?” Max’s boisterous laughter echoes around the room.

A noise resembling a growl leaves my lips. I hang the remote above my shoulder, my intention of giving him the controller clear. Arrow will have to wait until later.

Chapter 19 Waking to my own moaning is definitely new, and by new I mean supremely wonderful. There are worse ways to wake up in the morning, a lot worse than butterfly kisses down my neck while fingers hit the target between my legs with precision, the perfect amount of pressure and movement. I’m lying on my side with his warm body directly behind me, his arm curved around my stomach where his magical hand is electrifying my need for him with every rhythmic stroke. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers into my hair as he dips his two fingers inside me, seeing just how good I’m feeling this morning.

“Mmmm,” is all I can reply as I start to rock my body back and forth against his, hoping he understands that I want more than what his hand is currently giving me. Jaxxon lightly chuckles, his breath caressing my left shoulder. “Feeling greedy this morning are we? Well, lucky for you I’m in a giving mood.” His teeth clamp down on my shoulder blade, his wicked bite causing an eruption of goose bumps to spread across my back. I whine into my pillow as Jaxxon removes his hand, my body now throbbing for a release. He sticks his hand under my thigh, lifting it slightly. Then he effortlessly slides inside me, the sudden intrusion

complete perfection. He’s worked me up so well that my body accepts him with little resistance. I reach up behind me, running my fingers through his hair before latching on. His pumps are fierce, fast, amazing. Completely different from what we’ve done before. “More,” I beg, tugging his hair. “My girl wants it rough this morning?” “Yes.” As soon as the word leaves my mouth, I’m pushed from my side down flat onto my stomach. His hand that’s now under my stomach pushes up, tilting my butt to an angle. He manages to do all this while still staying inside me. His movements become relentless,

exactly what I yearned for. His palm connects with my ass, the light smack vibrating my body into a frenzy. I press the palms of my hand against the black wooden headboard for leverage, my screams of delight muffled into my pillow. Jaxxon’s other hand clasps onto a fistful of my hair, pulling back with force, commanding me to arch my back, causing my inner walls to contract around him. “You good, babe?” he asks without stopping, I know from his tone that he’s genuinely concerned that he might be hurting me. It’s sweet, but my body isn’t craving sweet right now. “God, yes, don’t stop, Jaxxon,” I plead, smacking my hand against the

headboard. His hand moves down my stomach, wedging in between my legs. The second his fingers find my nub it throws me over the edge, I arch back as my strangled cry echoes around our room. “That’s right, babe, come for me.” His command only elongates my pleasure. As I come down from my high, my body goes limp with satisfaction, completely spent. “So tight,” he grunts behind me. I know he’s there when he seats himself deep, pulsating his own release inside me. As he stills, he rests his body weight on top of me. The feeling can only be described as perfection. I’m never as relaxed as I am when Jaxxon is around.

I can breathe. I’m almost back asleep when three loud bangs vibrate our room. “Seriously?” a deep, whiskey voice booms from the wall behind us. “Oh my God!” I screech as I push up, forcing a laughing Jaxxon to roll off me. I swing around to look at him, an arrogant, dimpled smile plastered on his stunning face. It paralyzes me for a moment, the resemblance to Colton almost stopping my heart. These small glimpses of carefree Jaxxon are my absolute favorite yet most despairing moments. It is the only time their resemblance is truly identical, the only time that I’m forced to look directly at what I’ve lost. I miss my best friend

fiercely. Jaxxon’s smile quickly falls, his eyes trying to read my sudden silence. I do my best to shake it off, remembering that I’m infuriated Max was just privy to the sounds I make when I orgasm. “You put Max in the bedroom next to us? What would possess you to do that?” I went to bed long before those two last night. Silly me for assuming Jaxxon would put him in the bedroom on the opposite side of the house, giving us some privacy. “Max always takes that room when he stays here, but I honestly didn’t think about it. I was wiped yesterday so I came to bed not long after you. It’s not a big deal, Kalli.” I huff as I jump off my bed and walk

my naked self to the bathroom door where my pink robe is hanging. “Not a big deal?” I ask, as I walk back over to the edge of the bed, tying the robe around my waist. Jaxxon sits up, leaning back against the headboard. He nods, raising his eyebrows at me, still smiling. I can tell he thinks I’m overreacting. “So you’re okay with the fact that your friend and colleague now knows not only the moans I make when I’m turned on, but also the sounds we both make while having sex?” A deep frown forms on his face at my words. “Maybe you want to just invite him to join in next time? Or just let him sit in here and get a front row view,” I say, pointing to the

lounge chair next to his dresser. Before I’m done ranting I’m flat on my back in bed, Jaxxon pinning me down. “You invite anyone into this bedroom who isn’t Stud, they won’t be breathing long enough to hear any of the sounds you make,” his lethal tone only working to turn me on more. Possessive Jaxxon is definitely my favorite. His black eyes unblinking as they bore into me, letting me know how serious he is. He raises his fist, bringing it down hard a few times on the wall above us. “Move, now!” he shouts. I knew I was poking the beast by saying what I did, but this beast is who I’ve been in love with for years.

“Got it,” he responds from the doorway, instead of behind the wall like expected. Max is already on the move, hopefully equally horrified by what he heard. “Waking up with your naked body in my arms distracted me, and I certainly wasn’t thinking about Max while I was touching you.” Was that his version of an apology? “So I’m a distraction now?” I tease. “Your body is a distraction,” he says as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “You are hypnotizing.” I moan as he leans in, planting his lips against mine. The genuineness in his words slams into me. He’s not afraid to let me in or show me how he really

feels. It’s his sexiest trait.

Chapter 20 I move my hand up and down outside the open passenger window, effortlessly gliding through the air. It’s a flawless seventy-seven degree day in Tampa. This weather is why I have no desire to ever leave. Sure, every summer seems unbearable, but while the rest of the country is getting buried with snow, I’m in a sleeveless sundress enjoying the rays. Max and I are on our way to Harper’s apartment, which is ironic because Max is the reason I have to sneak attack her in the first place. Harper hates people who just drop by, but she’ll evade me if she knows I’m coming. I had wanted Jaxxon to

accompany me, but he had meetings all day, so babysitter Max it is. As we pull up to her dilapidated concrete gray building I realize that I haven’t been here in a long time, and it looks worse than ever. Door numbers are hanging crooked, what little paint that was around the edges of the structure has mostly chipped away, and there is trash scattered all over the property. It looks more like a seedy old motel than an apartment complex. I can’t believe my girl lives here. I vow to myself that she will be my focus when Dominic is caught. I’ll get her out of this hellhole no matter what. I’ve tiptoed around her living in this dump for years, but Colton would want

me to fight to get her out. “I think you should stay in the car,” I request to Max. “Yeah,” is all he says back, not looking over at me. Clearly not understanding that he just agreed to stay put, he gets out of the car the same time that I do. He’s parked right in front of her door, so I don’t have long to walk. Max situates himself leaning against the hood of Jaxxon’s Porsche, legs and arms crossed, scowl in place. I laugh, because honest to god, the man looks like a GQ model angrily waiting for the photographer to finish up. Mr. November with an attitude problem. I raise my hand to knock on her door but almost fall on my face instead

because the door is opened before my knuckles have a chance to touch the splintered wood. Surprised, it takes me a second to register what I’m seeing. He can only be described as a Greek God. He’s enormous, towering over me. His mammoth arms the size of my head, his angular facial features carved in stone, a mixture of striking and unique. Add in his dark blue eyes against his cropped short black hair, I can honestly say he’s the most distinctively sexy male I’ve ever laid eyes on. And he’s all man. I’m still ogling him as he tips his head toward Max, acknowledging his presence, still not saying a word.

“I’m Kalli,” I finally say, holding out my hand. He doesn’t reply or take my outstretched hand. Okay then. “I’m here to see Harper,” I explain further, retracting my hand as I go up on my tiptoes, bobbing my head around his body, trying to see if she’s behind him. I’m entirely unsuccessful since his bulk blocks the entire doorway. His expressionless face gives me the onceover. “Why is your hair short and black?” he questions. “I’m sorry?” “Your hair, its looks different from the photos we have on file. That’s a

problem.” “My hair color is a problem?” “When there are men assigned to keep you alive, and you look different from their given photo, it’s a problem,” he returns sharply. “Well, Jaxxon didn’t mention it. Next time you are targeted by a crazy serial killer who slaughters your best friend right before your eyes because you look like his dead wife, you can deal with it differently than I have,” I reply aggressively. “Now if you would please move the fuck out of my way, I’d like to see Harper.” Overreaction on my part? Maybe. “Jamison,” he replies. “What?”

“Please move the fuck out of my way, Jamison.” And now he’s officially made me feel like a turd. “Jamison,” I say through gritted teeth. Finally satisfied, he walks outside toward Max leaving my entry clear. My already irritable mood takes a drastic nose dive as I survey Harper’s apartment, not that there is much to look at. Her originally white carpet is now a dirty off yellow color, the space that once occupied her black leather couch and flat screen TV is now replaced with two plastic folding chairs and a television that might have been new in 1995.

She walks out of her bedroom oblivious to my presence. She has a dingy towel wrapped around her head that she is adjusting with her hands. I know the second she sees me because she looks shocked, completely silent, eyes wide. She’s looking at my hair the way I’m looking at her apartment. Horrified. “Where is all your furniture?” My hand waves wildly around the bare space. She takes the towel off her head, and tosses it onto the back of the plastic chair, ignoring me. Harper walks over to the electrical outlet on the far wall and grabs her cell phone that is charging on the carpet.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” she says, not taking her eyes off her phone, and also not commenting on my new look. “Harper, seriously. Where is everything?” She finally turns those exquisite emeralds my way; the dullness present in their depths causes my gut to clench. I’m missing something here. I’ve been so preoccupied with myself that I haven’t seen my friend drowning. “I got robbed a while ago; they wrecked my place and took anything of value. It’s not a big deal, it’s just stuff. It’s not like I’m here any more than I need to be. They had the decency to leave my bed at least,” she jokes, a dry

laugh following. I’m not laughing with her. “How long ago?” “Six months or so.” “Did Colton know?” Her eyes close at his name, a large exhale leaving her nose. “I need to sit down,” she says. I follow behind her as she parks herself in one of the plastic death traps. I take the only other seating option available next to her. Her hands are clenching the flimsy arms of the chair. I know she’s agitated, but I’m not sure if it’s with the fact that I’m privy to the state of her apartment or because we are discussing Colton. Hell, it’s probably both.

“I called him when I came home at 3:30 a.m. from work and saw my door was busted open. He told me to get in my car, lock the doors, and call 911, then he hung up. I felt so stupid for waking him; I mean who doesn’t think to call 911 right away when they come home to a destroyed front door? I was still on the phone with the dispatcher when he knocked on my window. I didn’t expect him to come over,” she says, a smile gracing her face. “That was the night things shifted between us. He stayed the night despite my protests that I was fine and somehow found someone to come fix the door in the middle of the night. I know you’re going to ask why I didn’t call you, but you had left the bar early

that night to go to Justin’s and I just didn’t want to bother you. Can we leave it at that?” Do I want to leave it at that? No, but I will. “I would have been thrilled to know you were dating Colton, Harper. He deserved someone amazing like you.” Her eyes start to glisten from the tears she’s holding onto. I want to ask more questions about her and Colton, but I don’t want all the what-if’s to haunt her tonight if they don’t have to, so I move on to what I really came here to talk to about. “Max is staying at the house now.” “Oh yeah? Did he tell you why?” she flippantly responds, while using her

hand to untangle her wet hair. “He said he made a move on you.” Her hand stills in the middle of her hair for a beat, and then continues its downward path. “What else did he say?” “Not much more than that. He said you asked him to leave, so he did. Are you okay?” “Sometimes I find myself waiting for him to show up, Colton, I mean. I know he’s gone, but there are times when I forget. Those are the bad days, the ones where my mind is fixated on reading our old text messages, or calling his voicemail just to hear him. Max made those bad days bearable. He’s also made every day better. I was in a complete freefall a few months ago and he caught

me.” My head follows her movements as she stands, walks over to the metalbarred front window, and gazes out. If Max and Jamison are where I left them, then she has an unobstructed view of the two. “Max has been so patient with my nutty behavior, and God knows I’ve put him through the ringer for just doing his job, but he wants more than I can give him right now. Even if I could give him what he wanted, I don’t think I’d have the heart to date another agent. I wouldn’t survive this again.” She turns back around to talk to me. “Do you worry about Jaxxon while he’s out searching for Dominic?”

“Absolutely.” “That’s not going to stop you from being with him? Haunt you at night when you’re waiting for him to come home?” “No one makes it out alive, Harp. I’ve lost a lot of people I love, but I’ll never let my fear keep me from being happy.” “Happiness is fleeting, at least in my world,” she says as she rubs her forehead. “Did I tell you that he told me he got my letters?” I know this new information will distract her. Harper’s mouth falls open at my statement. “No way?” One night of shot for shot tequila made her the only soul I ever told about

all the letters I sent Jaxxon during his deployment. I wasn’t embarrassed by them. I just held them sacred, and for years I assumed they were in a junk mail pile of the USMC. “Yeah, he got them all, I guess.” “That’s kind of remarkable, Kalli.” It totally is. “How is BRF doing anyway? Sorry I haven’t come over. It still messes with my head to see him.” I tilt my head to the side. “BRF?” I feel my chest swell as Harper gives me her glorious, megawatt smile, a smile that could stop traffic. “Bitchy Resting Face, because the man seriously has one. Since you got to nickname Max, I decided I got Jaxxon.”

The chorus of laughter that erupts between the two of us in her living room can only be described as triumphant. We are moving forward, slowly climbing up the cliff we both fell off. Now I needed to devise a plan to get her out of this section eight craphole, but I’ll save that battle for another day after this nightmare is over. Until then she has Jamison, a one-man army that no criminal, hood rat, or desperate junkie would mess with. My girl is covered.

Chapter 21 Deciding I wanted to attempt to cook a dinner for my man tonight, I recruit Max to take me to the grocery store, again, and to help me plan the meal. This trip thankfully went a lot smoother than the last time we ventured out to buy food. As we park in the driveway, I hear “Baby Got Back” coming from Max’s pant pocket. A look of surprise flashes across his face. He grabs my arm, halting my exit from the car, as he reaches in his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Harper?” he answers without looking at the screen, his eyes watching mine as he listens.

“All right, let me see where Jaxxon is, then I’ll be right there…No, it’s not a problem. Just give me five.” He pulls the phone away, hits a few buttons, and then raises it back to his ear. “Harper’s car broke down on her way to Tapped That, and now she’s stranded on the side of the road. Jamison isn’t scheduled to be with her until later, and as you know he’s not available right now. How far out are you from the house?” He listens intently. “Okay, I’ll get her inside, then head out to pick up Harper.” He lets go of me as he hangs up. “Go get Harper. I’m fine, Max.” He gazes up at the house, clearly contemplating his choices.

“Seriously Max,” I push as I gather the grocery bags that are at my feet. “Watch me walk in, I’ll wave, and then go make sure our girl is safe.” God knows where her piece of shit car decided to die, I don’t want her stranded in the ghetto any longer than she has to be. Just because the sun is out doesn’t mean the monsters vanish. “All right, Jaxxon is now four minutes out, so he will be here soon. Walk up, check the house, and then signal back to me the all clear.” “Aye aye, Captain.” My bags shake in my hand as I attempt to mock salute him. “Such a goof.” His mouth spreads wide, giving me a toothy smile.

I set my purse down on the ground next to the doormat, ready to embark on the search for my keys. My purse is huge, stuffed with crap I don’t need, yet need to keep in my purse. It usually takes me minutes of rummaging around to find what I’m looking for. That’s when I see it. My balance tilts forward at the sight of a red envelope on the ground, propped up against the bottom of the door. Kalliope is written on the front in black ink. I grab the letter, inhaling a huge breath since I can’t remember the last one I took. Shoving my key into the lock, I move into the house. Stud runs over, whimpering in

excitement at my sudden appearance. “Stud, go lie down for me, buddy. Mom needs a few minutes.” I snap my fingers pointing to his bed. He obediently listens because he’s an awesome ass dog. Butterflies invade my stomach as I move to the kitchen island, placing my bags and the red envelope on the granite island. I move back to the front door, wave at a waiting Max, and set the deadbolt in place. I slowly turn around, staring at the offending envelope. It looks like a birthday card, but it’s definitely not my birthday. This screams wrong. I can’t think of a single person who would leave a note at Jaxxon’s front

door. They would send an email or text long before deciding to take the extreme effort of a hand delivered, enveloped letter. I grab it with my shaky hands, ripping it open, its contents fluttering to the floor. My hand involuntarily moving to cover my mouth as a gasp escapes. It’s a picture along with a typed note. The picture is of me lying on top of Jaxxon in our bed, my hands cupping his face, leaning in close for a kiss. It’s an intimate, raw moment between us, a moment captured by a lunatic. He’s been watching us. A shudder racks my body as I think about what else he’s probably seen. I look away from the photo and down

at the note. Your life for his. 4871 East Lake Dr. Lakeland. 8pm. Alone. Take the Range Rover. My life for his. This guy is seriously twisted. He knows where I live, he’s seen what Jaxxon means to me, and he murdered Colton for a lot less. I crumble the note into my palm as the front door lock clicks open. My heart is pounding with a ferocity that I’ve never experienced before as I shift my body so that my hands are hidden under the ledge of the island counter. The heat from Jaxxon’s body tells me he’s right behind me. He gently lifts my hair off my neck as

he places a soft kiss there. “Hey, gorgeous,” he whispers as he pivots around me and starts digging through my grocery bags. “Get anything good? I’m starving, but I could wait if you had your heart set on what you just bought here. Or maybe get a pizza at Cappie’s?” His words barely sinking in, my brain working overtime to process everything. He finally looks up at me, clearly waiting on an answer. His body instantly goes rigid, hyper alert. My poker face must not be as good as I imagine. “Kalliope.” His voice is sharp. “What’s wrong?” His eyes scan my body, searching for some physical reason for my current catatonic state.

I move my hand slightly to the right and without hesitation press the button hidden under the island. The panic button. His eyes register my move and in a flash his gun is drawn, safety switched off, ready for use. His index finger comes up to his lips, telling me to stay silent, not that I’ve made a sound yet anyway. He scans the room, looking for signs of an intruder. He sweeps the room, then moves stealthily down the hallway. He’s wasting his time, but that’s exactly what I planned on. There is a knock on the door as Jaxxon makes his way back into the kitchen, placing his gun down. I move quickly to open the

door, it’s crucial for me to be near the door. As two uniformed officers enter, I strategically maneuver them so that they are between Jaxxon and me. “Evening folks, we got an alert from your security system. What seems to be the problem?” the older looking officer asks me. I ignore his question as I grab the keys for the Range Rover off one of the hooks hanging on the wall. “Yeah, I’d also like to know what the hell is going on. What’s the issue, Kalli?” Jaxxon’s tough voice asks as he re-enters the open space. I can’t tell if he’s irritated because I’m not speaking or because he can’t figure out what my current play is.

Keys and purse in hand, I look up at the officers and spit out a lie. “He wouldn’t let me leave. We were fighting, and then he pulled out his gun to scare me. I was afraid that he was going to attack me, so I pressed the panic button. Please help me, I just want to leave.” As the bullshit statement leaves my lips, I feel a piece of my heart shatter. “Jesus Christ! Attack you? I would never hurt you, you know that! What the hell are you doing?” He moves to come toward me, but both officers merge, barricading him. Jaxxon looks scary when he’s angry, but his face is downright homicidal right now. I’m glad that two cops showed up because one wouldn’t have been able to control him.

“Sir, I’m going to need to see some identification and registration for that gun you’ve got there,” officer two demands. His attention swings to me. “Ma’am, if you’re not going to press any charges, then you’re free to leave. We will make sure he doesn’t follow you.” “Kalli.” Jaxxon points his finger at me. “Don’t move.” He turns back to the officers. “She’s not going anywhere. I’m Federal Agent Jaxxon Brady, and she’s in my protective custody. She is not authorized to leave this property. Something is wrong, and she’s trying to shade that by pulling this ridiculously stupid stunt.” His livid gaze swings back toward me. “Yeah, I know what you’re doing, babe.”

A blur of heated conversation ensues between Jaxxon and the offers. His arms wave around in flurry of activity. He’s trying to explain this situation, but his emotions are getting the best of him, and it’s throwing him off his game. It’s exactly what I needed. An emotional Jaxxon is the only time he will speak without thinking, and I need him to say something stupid to these officers that will land him in handcuffs. I need more time. When I look back up, he’s still pleading his case to no avail, but his eyes are trained on me, they are wild with betrayal. His beast is close to escaping. I need to leave now. They will

eventually corroborate his story and let him go, I just need enough of a head start so that he can’t follow me. As the officer speaks Jaxxon’s name into his radio, I know my window is closing. I take one last second to soak him in. Jaxxon Brady, the love of my life. No, I will not allow another Brady brother to be killed because of me. He watches a lone tear escape my eye, causing his frown to deepen further. He deserves to understand why I’m doing this. I aim a small smile at him as our eyes lock. “My life for your life,” I whisper. His mouth falls open slightly. I drop the picture to the ground and move for the door, sprinting out as fast as my jelly

legs will allow. I don’t know what pains my heart more, the door slamming on my future, or the dark echoes coming from behind it. They replay in my head as I start the car and pull out of the driveway. “Don’t do this! Kalliope, don’t do this! Stop! Get off me! Get the fuck off me! Stop her! Kalli, stop! Kalli!” He wasn’t screaming, he wasn’t angry, he was pleading, begging for me to listen to him. It isn’t until this moment that I have a clear understanding of Colton’s actions. I hope that when this is over that Jaxxon will understand that it wasn’t even a choice. My life for his.

Chapter 22 The torrentially pouring rain that is drumming against my windshield isn’t powerful enough to pull me from my current stream of thoughts. As I take the exit for Lakeland off I-4, I recognize that I don’t remember the last forty minutes of this drive. Snippets of all the letters I’ve sent Jaxxon while he was deployed have been flashing through my mind. I’m not sure if this will ever find you, but I hope that if it does it finds you safe. I know I am probably the last person you expected or wanted to hear from, but too bad. Get ready for a butt load more letters to come. I wish we had been closer. I wish I would have pushed you harder, forced

you to see who I really am. If I could go back, I would sacrifice my relationship with Colton so that you two could have had a better one, be as close as I would have wanted to be with my sibling. I somehow became a wedge, and it haunts me. Colton is so proud of you even if he never expresses it. Your family misses you. Even if you don’t understand it, I miss you. Be safe. Always. “Turn left in twenty feet,” my GPS commands, his English accent pulling me back to the now. There is nothing but thick tree lined woods around me. The

cracked asphalt I’ve been traveling on for the past five miles doesn’t even have traffic lines drawn down the middle. It’s a miracle that this navigation system recognized these backwoods roads. I’ve been relatively calm since I ran out of the house, distracted by memories, but as I turn left onto a dirt path, I feel the weight of what I’m about to do heavy on my chest. My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel, trying to squeeze the anxiety out. I should be on the verge of a panic attack, but I’m not. I have to do this. I’m not naive; I know that Dominic demanded I take this car for a reason. My best guess is that he disabled the tracking device for the vehicle

somehow. It’s his first move. He thinks this is one big game, but I love games. I release my right hand and reach for my purse on the passenger seat. My eyes leave the road momentarily to search for the correct zipper pocket. “There you are,” I say to myself, as my hand feels the cool steel of the 9mm handgun Colton gave me. I grip her handle as a series of loud pops ring out around me. Unable to control the sudden violent jerks of the car, I have just enough reaction time to get both hands back on the wheel and attempt to slam on the brakes before I take a sharp right, down an embankment, head on into a

tree. The impact is quick, crushing metal echoing throughout. A tug of war between the force of the collision and my seatbelt holding me back knocks the wind out of me. The airbag deploys, punching me in the face with a violent force, pain shooting down my nose through my front teeth. Taking heaving, rapid breathes I lean back against my seat, closing my eyes. This is not a good start. Lifting my arm, I maneuver around the airbag to assess the damage to my nose. It’s slightly painful to the touch, and I can feel a slow tickle of blood oozing out, but it doesn’t feel broken. I have to bend awkwardly to gain

access to the middle console. I flip it open and scrounge around. Once I find what I need, I take the pen and stab the airbag, watching it deflate almost as fast as it blew out. Now I can get out of this mangled mess. I grab my gun and push my way out of the car, seeing the full extent of the damage I caused. The hood is folded up to the windshield, crumbled like an accordion. A colorful array of fluids are pouring to the ground accompanied by the whiny whistles of an angry vehicle. I’ve completely destroyed Jaxxon’s beautiful Range Rover. I sidestep a series of puddles as I make my way to the mud-lined road. I

silently curse this crazy Florida weather as the rain begins to pelt me in the face, soaking me entirely. Once I reach the top of the embankment, I see the cause of my accident. Two spike strips are strategically placed across the road, dirt packed between the bottom of the strip and around the spikes themselves, camouflaging them perfectly. His second move. Assuming that walking is what he wants me to do, I start to make my way down this puddle-filled path tucking my gun into the back of my jeans. Everything is now pitch black, only the noises of crickets and other insects chirping about. There are no street lights

on this Elm Street lookalike, only the moon behind the trees casting a slight glow. It takes less than a mile for a soft light to come into view. As I get closer I see that the light is attached to a huge metal warehouse. I peek around a large tree, scoping out my surroundings. Its shape mimics a massive enclosed plane hangar, not one window in sight. It’s covered in a burnt red rust, showing signs that it’s definitely an older structure, except for the door. That looks like a brand spanking new steel door. No vehicle or any other form of transportation is in sight. My eyes lock on my watch, 7:58 p.m. Taking a deep breath, I pull the gun

from my pants, switch the safely off, grab a small rock from the ground, and move cautiously toward the door. The knob turns with little resistance as the door opens with ease. I move into the darkness, stopping to place the rock in the corner of the opening, keeping the door from shutting all the way. I don’t want to take the chance that it can’t be opened from the inside. While I’m still crouched down, I finally scan the hangar. This place could be a goddamn horror movie set. Everything is dark, like the cellar, except there are low lit lamps scattered along the walls. There is no floor, only dirt. The rain echoes loudly against the roof. Puddles from leaks spread around.

There are three doors lining the left side of the large room, all with the same sort of steel door. In the center of the room there is a black table with a dark brown wooden chair next to it, straps hanging from the arms and legs. It’s a perfect replica of an electric chair minus the head cover. This place is where Jason Voorhees comes to have fun. The fear this place emits isn’t what almost knocks me on my ass though, it’s the smell. A combination of body odor, bodily excretions, and blood. My hand plugs my nose, as I struggle to hold back a gag. It’s so pungent that my eyes start to water. Maybe Dominic is dead. I have no

clue what a dead body smells like, but I imagine it’s close to this. As I creep past the first inside door I hear the first sign that I’m not alone here, a soft whimpering. With my gun raised I open the door, using my foot to keep it ajar. My vision locks with a wide-eyed girl, her arms wrapped around her bent knees in a ball on the ground. She’s filthy, covered in dirt and blood and God knows what else. Her hair is a matted mess hanging down around her petrified face. She has what resembles a thick metal dog collar around her neck attached to a long chain cemented into the wall, holding her hostage in this purgatory. The only object in this prison is a bucket.

A fucking bucket. Even in her current state, I see the striking resemblance, our features scarily similar. “Don’t shut the door or it will lock you in here!” she frantically whispers. “I won’t. What’s your name?” “Morgan,” she says, not moving from her crouched state. “Morgan, I’m Kalliope. I’m going to get us out of here, Okay? I’m coming back for you. I can’t stay right now, but I promise I’m coming back for you.” She surveys me, then looks at the gun in my hand. “Yeah,” she sighs, clearly not believing me. She leans her forehead down to her knees as I back out of the room, closing the door, leaving her in

complete darkness. Shit, I wish I had another rock. When I turn around Dominic is standing twenty feet from me positioned behind the table. He’s clad in jeans and a white polo, huge smile on his face, rifle in his hands pointed casually my way. His seemingly normal attire is baffling. “Hello, love, so happy you could join me. Now how about you slide that gun my way before I decide to play with my grenades here.” He emotionlessly waves toward the three dark acornshaped canisters that are lined up on the table. My mind goes into overdrive as I try to decide what the best move would be.

“You could make a run for it, but Morgan would pay that price.” He’s right. I could never get her out in time even if I had something to break that chain connecting her to the wall, and I don’t. He wanted me to find her so he could use her against me. I throw my gun at him, hoping he will catch it awkwardly and shoot his own head off. He just lets it fall to the ground next to him as he lowers his own rifle, placing it on the table, barrel still pointing my way. “You know, Kalliope, I think the dark hair suits you, but you should know that the color of your hair doesn’t affect me. It’s your eyes. The second those

sapphire sparklers flashed across my monitor I knew you were one of mine. I would have come for you sooner, but the twin brother was a complication I didn’t anticipate.” “You’re sick,” I hiss at him, “completely jacked, and you’ll never get away with this.” I start to shuffle toward the right side of the room, Dominic shadowing my footsteps. My first move. “But I have gotten away with this, for many years now,” he brags with a grin. “Not this time. The authorities know who you are. They were able to figure it out because you’ve made a number of mistakes.” My words take the smile from

his face. I’m trying to throw him off. He thinks he’s outplayed me. I have to shake his confidence. “Your first mistake was killing a federal agent. That was just downright stupid. I mean, are you really that much of a moron to think that they wouldn’t make your capture first priority?” I spew at him. “Your second mistake was letting yourself get distracted by my sapphires, and your last, but most crucial mistake was assuming I only had one gun.” I nod my head toward the table housing his gun and grenades that I’ve strategically moved us away from as I bend down lifting my jeans and pull a handgun from my soaked sock. Jaxxon keeps a gun in the glove

compartment of both his vehicles, and Max said he is always double armed. Now I understand why. My second move. I note the look of complete shock on his face as I pull the tight trigger, but instead of firing it just clicks. I pull again and again, each click marking my naive notion that I could pull this off without getting myself killed. The gun is jammed. Oh. Shit. His sadistic laugh echoes around this hellhole as my heart pounds vigorously inside my chest. My body trembles with fear, as Dominic casually strides toward the table where he once again lifts the rifle.

“Nobody can have you if I can’t, don’t you understand that yet? I win, Kalliope, you never had a chance,” he states confidently. He raises his gun, pointing it directly at my forehead. The kill shot. Pure adrenaline has me ducking down, spinning faster than I’ve ever moved in my life, digging in my toes into the dirt, launching myself in the opposite direction. Except I smack into a wall, a wall of massive man thighs. I stagger back, gaining my footing just in time to look up and witness Jaxxon fire six rapid gunshots, emptying his clip. The booms of each blast,

accompanied with grunting screams, pulsate through my already aching skull. As deafening silence surrounds us, my shocked body sags into Jaxxon, his arm securely wrapping around my waist, holding me upright. “Don’t look,” he commands, pushing my head into his rain-soaked chest. “You found me,” I breathe, my own grip now tight around him. “I’ll always find you,” he declares. My arms drop down as I attempt to dislodge from his hold. “No, you don’t need to see this scene, Kalli.” Always so protective but I need it. I need to see that Dominic Hall can no longer terrorize my life. I need a visual

confirmation that this nightmare is finally over. “Please,” I plead, the strain in my voice palpable. Instead of releasing me, he turns us both. I courageously peek my head out. Dominic is flat on his back, arms and legs flailed about, sizeable holes littering his torso. Blood is oozing out from all angles, his unmoving eyes open, dead as a fucking doornail. My stomach bunches as I gag at the sight. Maybe closure is overrated. Jaxxon finally releases me, making sure I’m steady on my feet before he advances over to Dominic’s body. He picks up the shotgun that has fallen from

his hands and empties the chamber before placing it on the table. Leaning down, he places two fingers on his neck, feeling for a pulse. “You’re wrong. I win, asshole,” he taunts. His concerned gaze swings to me. “Why don’t you sit down for a second. You look like you might pass out.” His voice is soft in a way that I didn’t expected. I knew he would be relieved I was safe, but I was sure he would chew me out right away for the scene I made earlier. But sitting actually sounds like a fantastic idea. I bend my knees, allowing my

exhausted body to crash to the ground. Jaxxon peels off his dark long-sleeve Henley, his rain-infused chest glistening against the dim back lighting. He squats down, pressing the soaked garment against my still bleeding nose. I wince as he puts pressure on my forgotten battle wound. I reach up, taking the shirt from his hand. When he steps back slightly his entire shirtless torso comes into my view. My breath hitches loudly as my stomach drops to the floor His eyes mimic mine, gazing at what has me so spooked. “Shit,” he whispers, as he plops down, joining me on the ground.

I use my feet to propel myself back, as my butt slides in the dirt, creating some distance between us. My eyes haven’t left his arm yet, his perfectly un-tattooed arm. He reaches out for me. “Dollface, please chill.” Dollface. Colton. Alive. Maybe I am dead. Involuntary, violent laughter erupts from my throat. At some point my hilarity transforms into body-wracking sobs. He sits back, giving me time to digest. As I start to settle down some of my sanity returns. I study him a little more. He looks exactly like Jaxxon. I

wipe my now tear stricken face with my palms and demand, “Prove it.” His bare arm isn’t enough to convince me. Jaxxon could have covered it up with waterproof makeup for the mission. Regret is etched in his features as he slowly reaches up toward the scar on his face, his eyes never diverting from mine as he peels it off, leaving behind his perfectly unblemished forehead. He discards the fake skin to the ground beside him, then reaches up, inserts his finger into his eye, and pulls out a black contact, adding it to his pile of deceit. His half gray, half black eyes carefully watch me. “No fucking way.” My tears now

completely blur my vision of him. Then the room bursts with activity. Men in SWAT, bomb, and riot gear surround us, rifles in hand, stern commands being shouted from all directions. I’m in such a daze that I barely react to the commotion, my eyes firmly locked on Colton. “I’m sorry,” Colton mouths, sadly, as a large body approaches behind him casting a shadow on us both. Jaxxon. My eyes shift between the two. Jaxxon doesn’t seem surprised to see Colton six feet above the ground, not that I anticipated he would. No, these twins are well aware of the intricately woven web of lies they’ve

created. They are stock still, clearly expecting me to lose it, roar, rant, and scream, but I will have to postpone that show to air at a later date because things are starting to get fuzzy, and there is something a lot more important than the current anger I feel toward these two liars. I shake the cobwebs and work to focus my rapidly moving mind. “Morgan,” I state, gaining the attention of not only the Decepticons in front of me but also a few of the agents milling about. “He has a girl named Morgan chained to the wall, like a dog, behind that first door. Please help her.” “On it.” Jamison’s husky voice resonates from somewhere in the room.

“Jamison!” I holler, as he comes into my view. His hand stilling on the doorknob as he tilts his head toward me. “She’s completely naked,” I murmur only as loud as necessary, my own heart dropping as the statement leaves my lips. His hand tightly constricts the door handle as he nods his head in acknowledgment. Then he grips the back of his shirt, swiftly pulling it off with ease. Now he has something to cover her with upon entry. If I weren’t about to pass out, I’d swoon at his thoughtful gesture. He swings the door open, hesitating for only a second before moving into her tomb of torture. I raise my hand pressing it to my forehead, as my escalating headache

makes it hard to think. I feel myself start to sway as dizziness washes over me. An array of dots paint my vision as I fall onto my back, unable to hold myself up anymore. I hear the muffled sounds of my name being shouted, but responding is no longer an option.

Chapter 23 I will never use an alarm again. Constant beeping is officially the worst tone ever created. It needs to stop, immediately, before I get violent. As I crack my eyes open it dawns on me that it isn’t the annoying sound of an alarm, at least not the kind you set before you go to bed. No, it’s the kind of alarm that lets the staff know you are still alive and kicking. I’m in the hospital….again. Splendid. Colton is sprawled out on a beige lounge chair in the corner of the room, completely knocked out. His arms are crossed over his immense chest, legs

spread eagle, head tilted down, a soft snore coming from his mouth. I know its Colton not only from the white T-shirt he’s rocking, but because Jaxxon would never sleep like that nor would he let himself fall asleep in the first place. His crooked neck is going to seriously need the service of a Yogi stretch session tomorrow. Having educated myself from my last hospital stay, I reach behind me, pressing the button that silences that incessant beeping. The sudden silence is heaven to my throbbing dome. It finally gives me the opportunity to properly digest the last few hours. Colton, my light, my family, my deceptive savior, is alive. As stunned as

I had been when I realized that he wasn’t hanging out with the reaper, I wasn’t totally blindsided. I never felt the loss of his presence in my soul….ever. My elation however does not overshadow the rage I am feeling toward him and Jaxxon. Those assholes lied to me for months! I was tortured by his death, and here he is sleeping like a baby in the world’s smallest chair. The urge to strangle him with my bare hands overwhelming. I grab my IV rack, hop out of bed, tiptoeing my way toward Colton, thanking the good lord that I put on some full coverage black lace boy short panties this morning. Sure, it’s a silly

thing to be thankful for after the night I’ve had, but I’m still human. I inhale deeply, count to five, and blow it out. Then I pull my leg back and swiftly swing it forward with all my strength, my bare foot connecting directly with his shin. “Ow!” he wails, startled by his rude awakening. His arms stretch for his leg, as his eyes rapidly scan my frame trying to determine the threat. He tilts his head to the side as his eyes lock with mine, realizing we are indeed alone in the room. “Did you seriously just kick me?” His scrunched forehead shows his shock. “Really? I mean seriously! I don’t

even know where to start! Actually I do. Let’s start with pissed,” I shout at him, my arms swinging wildly. “I’m beyond pissed at you. You faked your death! You have no idea what a total mess I was!” My hand covers my mouth as a truly horrifying thought pops into my brain. “Oh my god, were you ever fake Jaxxon around me? I mean we didn’t…” Ick. I can’t even finish the sentence. He shoots out of his chair like it’s on fire. Then his strong arms engulf me, holding me hostage, pulling me in tight. My maximum contact Colton. When I push my face deeper into his chest, my senses are assaulted with his smell. Not the smell of his cologne but the smell of him. A smell I never thought I’d be

graced with again. My eyes instantly well with tears, except, for the first time in god knows how long, they are happy tears. He places a few scattered kisses on the top of my head, as I snuggle in closer, appreciating all that is living Colton Brady. “The disguise was only so I could roam freely without worrying that Dominic would tag me. The only time I was around you as Jaxxon was when you were initially in the hospital. I wanted someone with you twenty-four-seven and since that’s almost impossible for one person, even Jaxxon, we switched off shifts. You were pretty out of it and didn’t pay him or me much attention. We never even spoke. But seeing you in that

bed, completely jacked up…Shit, he almost killed you, Kalli,” he states, not releasing me from his embrace. “Hell, you looked dead when I walked into that crypt, covered in blood, fucking naked. I had no idea what that psychopath had done to you. You should never have been there in the first place. That asshole should never have gotten his hands on you, and the fact the he did was my fault. If I had kept you informed on what was happening, told you that you were being stalked, you wouldn’t have signed for those goddamn flowers, flowers that were laced with manufactured chloroform.” I still don’t remember the night he took me, but Jaxxon told me about the

laced roses. So insane. “Why did you have to fake your death? Couldn’t you have found another goddamn way to execute your plan that didn’t involve breaking my heart?” I yell, struggling to pull away. “I knew I could hunt Dominic better if he thought I was dead, so when, on day three, they decided to keep you in that coma longer because you were on the verge of brain damage from him cracking a steel pipe against your skull, I decided it was worth it. I took the opportunity to better protect you by becoming a ghost. Ending this man’s reign of terror on you and all his other innocent victims was my mission, and I did what I had to do. So be pissed, but I

wouldn’t change a single move I made because Kalli, you may be breathing fire at me right now, but you’re fucking breathing, and that’s all I care about.” His arms squeeze me to the point of my skin pinching. I understand what he is saying, but that doesn’t mean all is automatically forgiven. “I’m thrilled you aren’t dead, Colton, but I’m still pissed at you. There’s a lot you kept from me. The money, owning the apartment, the bank account you opened, your relationship…so much.” My voice quivers as I sniff back tears. He finally releases his hold, only to immediately lift me up and carry me back to my hospital bed. He pulls his chair to within reaching distance as I get

settled. “I know, dollface. I had my reasons for all of it,” he declares, not offering further explanation. His gray beauties look away from mine, so I know he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. “How is Morgan?” I ask, giving him a reprieve for now. The look of utter despair on her face when I opened that steel trap is permanently etched in my brain. “She’s safe now. She’s actually down the hall from here. Jamison is with her. She wouldn’t let him leave even while the doctor was doing his exam. Made a complete scene when he tried to give them privacy.” That doesn’t shock me. “He’s a

freaking beast, Colton. No one better to fight away her monsters than a behemoth of a man like him. How long did Dominic have her in that place?” A frown forms as he runs his hand roughly through his hair. It’s a tic when he’s stressed. “Morgan Lake was reported missing thirty-seven days ago. We assumed her disappearance had to be connected to this case based on the fact that she is your doppelganger. She hasn’t been interviewed yet, so I don’t know how he captured her, what was done to her, or what her current mental state is. Thirtyseven days is a long time to be held captive in a filthy dungeon by a sadistic sociopath like Dominic. Investigators on

scene believe she was kept in complete darkness. For how long, we don’t know yet. Her family got here immediately after they were notified of her rescue, but she’s refusing to see them. She has however asked to see you.” “Sure.” I nod. “You want to explain this?” Colton asks, gesturing to my hair with his hand. I grab a piece of my short jet black locks and pull it in front of my eyes. “You don’t like it?” “It’s not you, Kalli.” I shrug my shoulders. “It’s just hair.” In the scheme of it all, my hair isn’t even an afterthought. Curious now as to what is fact and fake, I reach over, lifting his shirt,

exposing his washboard abs. There it is, above his right hip bone, that nasty, puckered, light pink scar that I am all too familiar with. This is the shot that went through him, striking me in the shoulder. So I guess that wasn’t a lie. Colton grabs my hand, pulling it against his heart, as he grabs my chin tilting it up, giving him my eyes. A classic Brady move. “He tagged me right beneath the vest. That, combined with the force from the other two shots, brought me down hard.” He rakes his hand roughly through his hair again. “You passed out after that, but if you hadn’t lost consciousness from bleeding a goddamn river, you would have seen that Jaxxon was steps behind

me,” he explains, knowing he just confirmed facts that I already figured to be true. “He was the one who got you out of that chair and to the hospital so damn fast.” So Jaxxon saved my life. “Mom also knew. Jaxxon explained the plan when we moved her into protective custody, which is why she never called you, she couldn’t stand to lie. Everything Jaxxon did was something I asked him to do,” he says sympathetically, squeezing my hand. “You asked him to sleep with me?” I joke. “I asked him to keep you alive,” he answers, completely serious. “Where is he anyway?” Shouldn’t he

be here? “He was a little upset with you over the stunt you pulled at the house, so I told him to take a walk until he can get himself in check. By the way, that was a reckless move you made. You’re lucky he didn’t shoot one of those officers.” “I did what I thought I had to do to protect him. You of all people should understand that. And he’s only a little upset?” I curiously question, knowing Jaxxon better than that. The memory of his begging still fresh in my ears. I knew that his feelings of desperation would quickly morph into blind, beast mode rage. Colton flashes his pearly whites at my question, eyes glittering. He, above

anyone else, knows how much Jaxxon loves control, and I stripped him of that. “Okay, okay, he’s furious with you. He took it out on a few innocent hospital trays before I got him to walk away, but he’s not angry for the reasons you might think.” Not sure what he means by that, and not being mentally ready to ask, I move on. “How did you find me anyway? That warehouse of horrors was in the middle of nowhere.” Colton takes my hand that he is still holding and twists my wrist. He slides his thumb up a few inches before he stops over a small dime size scar, a mark I assumed was inflicted by

Dominic. “This is a tracking device,” he says casually, like he just told me the weather forecast. “Seriously!” I rip my arm away, touching the scar for myself. It doesn’t feel like much, but there is definitely an object embedded under my skin. It doesn’t hurt at all. “When did you do this?” “When they put you into a coma in the hospital.” He flips his wrist over, which is marred with the same scar. “We all have them. They are linked to Jaxxon’s and my phone and to a private security firm, not FBI-related in any way.” “Okay,” I say slowly, still rubbing

the small bump. “So when is it getting removed?” It’s a little freaky to think that there is a tracking device inside my body, and frankly I want it out. This must have been how Jaxxon knew my every move. Cheater. Colton’s hearty laugh explodes at my question. “You’ll have to discuss that with Jaxxon.” Oh, I will. Speaking of Jaxxon. “So you still haven’t commented on me and your brother getting together.” A soft smile lights his face as he reaches out, intertwining his hand with mine. “Dollface, the only person who

hasn’t known since high school that you’ve wanted Jaxxon is you. That was always the problem. He assumed I was in love with you, but he picked up on the way you were looking at him and it pissed him off. I knew what he thought about us, and I let him believe that. He had a plan that didn’t include getting into a relationship and was going to be deployed for an unknown amount of time. I knew that if you guys did end up dating, the distance would have destroyed you, so I stayed in the way knowing that someday the timing would work itself out. Why do you think no one ever asked you out in high school? I wasn’t the Brady brother scaring every guy off you. When he bought his house

here I knew he was setting up to make his move. The situation with Dominic just sped up his process.” I’m rendered speechless at his admission. My mind swirls with scenarios of how different my life could have been. He’s right though, I wouldn’t have been able to handle Jaxxon being deployed, especially after losing my parents. I wasn’t in a mental place where I could have handled the daily obsession about his safety. “You’re wrong, I did actually know I wanted him back then, I just didn’t know that you both knew it too.” “Oh, I knew all right. Why do you think our friendship worked so well? I knew you would never turn the tables on

me because you were already in love with my brother.” He sends a wink my way. “It took all the pressure off me having to worry that one day I’d have to tell my best friend that that’s all I’ll ever see her as.” “Oh please! You’re so cocky.” We both erupt in laughter. As we started to settle down, the door opens to my room. I hold my breath waiting for Jaxxon to enter, but it isn’t him. Dr. Dolittle is back, holding my chart in his hands. “Ahhh, Kalliope Winters, we need to stop meeting like this.” He moves to stand next to Colton’s chair where he directs his attention to him. “I need to review a few

confidential medical results with Kalliope, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out for a few minutes,” he requests sternly. “No,” I intercede, “it’s fine, he stays.” Dr. Isin nods his acceptance as he starts reviewing my new injuries. “The contusion on your forehead was superficial and only required a few stitches. Your CT scans are clear of any further head injury, and your nose is bruised, but the swelling should go down in a few days. Your head may ache some, but due to the baby we aren’t giving you any extreme pain medication. We did an ultrasound while you were unconscious to insure that the baby

survived the crash, along with the stressful trauma you experienced tonight. All seems good at this time. You will have to see your OBGYN in two weeks for a follow up.” I hold my hand up to stop him. “I’m sorry, did you say baby?” I probe, convinced my hearing has been affected too. He gives me a thin smile, “Yes. Baby. As in you are five weeks pregnant with an actual child.” His tone is calm, like he didn’t just rock my world. I pull my hand from Colton’s and place it on my stomach. “Baby?” I question again, surely looking like a lunatic. “Did you not know you were

pregnant?” Dr. Isin questions. I slightly shake my head unable to utter a syllable. No, I had no idea. But now that I think about it I can’t remember the last time I had a normal period. “I’m on the shot,” I state to no one in particular, staring off in my thoughts. “You were highly medicated when you were initially in the hospital and some of the drugs were strong antibiotics. Those can cause your birth control to fail, and that would be my guess as to the how. I’m going to go get your discharge papers and give you a few minutes to digest this information. If you have any questions before you leave, the nurse can page me. I hope for your

sake that this is the last time we meet in this hospital. Take care, Kalliope.” He nods his head at Colton as he exits. I look up at Colton who has his devastating dimpled smile out on full display. “How did you know?” “You do know I’m a federal agent, right?” I give him my best cut-thebullshit look. “Fine, Jaxxon and I reviewed your chart after they brought you back from testing.” Then it all clicked into place. “That’s why he’s pissed,” I state. “That’s why I’m pissed,” comes from the doorway. My eyes jet up to Jaxxon standing at the entry. I didn’t even hear the stealthy

man enter. His arms are crossed over his ample chest, his sinfully sexy black eyes aimed at me, forehead wrinkled. He looks dangerously sexy. BRF is the perfect nickname for him. His eyes move to my hands that are still sprawled out across my belly. I realize that I’m shaking my head back and forth but not actually speaking. “I didn’t know,” I finally push out. And I didn’t. The last twenty-four hours would have gone down drastically different if I had. Sure, I would die to protect Jaxxon, but had I known that I was pregnant, I would have chosen to protect the one who cannot do it himself. Instead of protecting my little bean, I put its life on the line. That gut-wrenching

guilt has tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Colton moves to come toward me, when Jaxxon clears his throat, halting his movement. Colton has been the male rock in my life for the last nine years, but he’s going to have to relinquish that role now. He sits back down as Jaxxon swiftly moves across the room. He scoops me up into his protective arms, nuzzling close. His scent, masculine and woodsy, all Jaxxon, instantly calms me. My tears leave marks on his white Tshirt as I chant, “I didn’t know. I promised I didn’t know. I would never have risked it if I had known.” “All right, gorgeous,” he whispers down into my ear, his grip around me

never faltering. I slant a look up at him. “We’re having a baby.” He brings his hand up, lightly stroking my cheek then pulling my chin toward him, his soft lips connecting with mine, melting away the anxiety that has been flowing through my body since I learned that I was with child. “Yeah, we are.” “We have a lot to talk about.” “We’ll talk more once we get home.” I’m pulled out of my Jaxxon hug haze when the nurse enters. He backs up and takes the chair next to Colton as she moves in with her chart checking my monitors. “Dude!” Colton suddenly yells,

punching Jaxxon in the shoulder. “You totally knocked up my wife!” The nurse’s loud gasp is followed closely by Colton’s hyena laughter. He did not just say that! “Jesus Christ,” Jaxxon murmurs, running a frustrated hand down his face, but I can tell that he’s also trying to hide a smile. “I heard that laugh down the hall and thought I was dreaming.” We all turn our heads toward who is speaking. Colton’s laughter stops abruptly, the smile vanishing from his face as he gapes at Harper, a ghostly white Harper. “Holy shit,” she whispers, frantically looking between Jaxxon and Colton. She quickly turns, her palm bracing against

the wall, her breathing loud and labored as her other hand rests over her heart. “Harper?” I questioned, cautiously. “Did you know?” she breaths into the wall. I assume she’s talking to me. “No, I just found out tonight,” I honestly answer. She finally swings our way, her attention focused solely on Colton. “I spent the last three months torturing myself,” she says harshly. “Trying to breathe because the man I loved was tragically taken away from me before I had the courage to tell him how I truly felt. Because I made an online profile joking around, and it gutted me knowing every single second after he was gone that the choice I made got him killed. I

tormented myself daily with regret and here you are, alive, laughing it up like you don’t have a care in the world, while I was fighting for every fucking single breath.” She moves forward placing the bouquet of tulips that I didn’t notice she was holding on the foot of my bed. Her face is scary blank. She whispers, “This level of deception is unfathomable, unimaginable. Unforgivable” As she moves fast for the door, Max enters. He abruptly stops, surveying the tense situation. “Oh fuck,” he blows out. His hands raise, attempting to stop Harper from leaving. “Sloan, let me explain,” he quickly bites out, his face bursting with

concern. “You were with me every day for months. Every single day you watched me breaking down, and you could have stopped my suffering. Was this all just a game to you? Were you just trying to play me this whole time? Get the grieving chick who is having a complete breakdown to fall for you?” She takes a few steps toward him, her eyes intently studying his, “I slept with you,” she speaks softly, but we all hear it. “What the fuck?” Colton and Jaxxon say in unison, both rising to their feet. “Holy crap,” I gasp out. That’s why she kicked Max out and requested a new babysitter. He didn’t make a play that didn’t work out, he made one that did,

and it freaked her out. Max’s eyes shift from Harper’s to Colton’s mortal glare. “I’m in love with her, man. You left her unprotected for months, and I was there. I want her.” Harper sags her head at his words. “Are you kidding me, Max? I trusted you!” Colton makes a move toward him, but Jaxxon barricades himself between the two men. “Not here, bro,” Jaxxon commands, shoving Colton back. “You’re both assholes, and I’m so done with all this…so done,” Harper says, then she’s gone, running out the door faster than I’ve ever seen her move, not that I blame her. Colton moves to follow her. Jaxxon

must sense that he’s not going to slaughter Max right here in my hospital room because he moves to the side allowing him to pass. He doesn’t even look at Max as he exits, Harper’s name echoing down the hall. “Is she why you’ve asked to be transferred down here?” Jaxxon inquires. Max runs a hand down his face, stopping to rub his eyes. “She’s part of it.” “You knew his undercover mission would end at some point, so how did you think this would go down when she found out he was alive?” “She’s the kind of woman that makes you forget, so I really wasn’t thinking

about that at all. We got close, and she felt it too, that’s why she’s so torn up right now. I know he’s your brother, and this situation is messed up, but I’m not giving up until she tells me that I’m not the one.” “He’s right,” I interject, gaining both their attention. “She is amazing, but you both lied to her. I honestly don’t think either of you will get her forgiveness, but I know Colton better than anyone and if he loves her he’s going to fight with everything he has to get her back. Is she worth going to war for?” “Yes,” he states immediately, his unblinking stare conveying his seriousness. A grin breaks out on my face, loving

his definitive answer. Max is a good soul, and I want Harper to be happy even if that happiness is at Colton’s expense. I know everything he did was to protect me, but there were other options. Plans could have been formed that didn’t involve faking his own death. He made his choices. Now he has to live with the fallout. “When I got to the scene tonight you were unconscious, so I just wanted to come make sure you were okay, Kalli. I’m thrilled Dominic is dead, and even happier that you are safe. I’ll see you both later at the house.” Max raises his hand in a small wave, as he moves to leave. “Max!” I shout. He turns around but

doesn’t respond. “Give Stud a big hug for me, yeah?” That brings Max’s frown up slightly. “Yeah.” Finally alone, I shift my body so I’m lying on my side, my view is directly on Jaxxon. He leans forward, grabbing my hand, and places a few small kisses across my knuckles. I love when he puts his ice-cold badass away for sweet. “So Max is transferring, huh? Will that affect your team?” I ask, wanting him to give me more information than my simple question requires. I can tell by the slight crinkle on the sides of his eyes that he knows what I’m really after. My man is perceptive. “Yes, seeing as I put in for the same

transfer a month ago, the team will definitely be affected.” “You did?” He leans forward, tucks a strand of my dark locks behind my ear, then glides his hand softly down my chin. “Yeah, gorgeous, I did.” “And if they say no?” “Then I’ll be one killer stay-at-home dad. I’ve got money, enough that my family will be well taken care of for generations. No job will ever dictate my choices or keep me from being with the woman I love and from watching my boy grow up.” “Boy?” His hand moves from my face, hovering over my flat stomach.

“Yeah, definitely a boy.” “You don’t think we’re moving too fast?” I sincerely question. “I’ve been watching out for you since I was seven, wanted you to be mine since I was fifteen, and loved you since I received that first letter overseas. I’ve known you for twenty years. If anything we have been on the slow track for way too long. I was never going to let you go anyway, so no, we aren’t moving too fast.” Arrogant, but he’s right, this really doesn’t feel fast at all. “You lie to me again, Jaxxon, and I’ll leave you. I can tolerate a lot, but deceit is a deal breaker. I forgive you for going along with Colton’s plan, but there are

no third chances with me.” “I know. I promise full disclosure from now on, but there’s something else I need to explain before we can move on.” He sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “I wasn’t in the Marines. I was recruited for a special government project that I can’t talk about. It was similar, and gave me the training to be the agent I am now, but it’s classified. You have to accept that and let it go.” Holy smokes. “Max too?” “Yes.” “Okay, but that’s done?” “Yes.” Well, okay then. “I need a lawyer,” I randomly state,

as I lie back, exhaustion kicking in. “Already on it, babe.” Of course he would be. Jaxxon Brady would never let his woman have his child while married to someone else, especially his own twin brother. It is time to annul the past. “Can I see your arms?” I casually ask. “My arms? Sure.” He stretches both forward for me. I flip them over, and I’ll be damned he has the same scar. “I see Colton ran his mouth about the trackers,” he mutters, smirking at me. “When can I get it taken out?” “It’s staying where it is.” His hard tone brokered no room for argument.

“What do you mean? Dominic is dead, so I’m safe now. Plus it’s seriously creepy.” “That creepy device saved you and our child’s life tonight. I see a lot of fucked up shit, daily. The peace of mind it gives me knowing that I can find you at any moment is worth the small scar and your pissy attitude. Our kids will also have the same devices implanted in their arms. That way I can sleep at night when I’m investigating a case that involves the disappearance, kidnapping, or murder of a child knowing that I’m doing everything possible to ensure that I’ll never have to personally live that nightmare.” “Jaxxon,” I groan, “I get it, but these

are decisions we need to discuss together, not just you dictating that that’s how it’s going to be. I haven’t had someone telling me what to do since I was eighteen, and I don’t want it to start now.” He moves swiftly, lifting me off the bed, lying where I just was, then gently lowering me back down, my back now resting against his hard chest. He wraps his arms around me, cupping my stomach. The feeling of protection his body provides is enough for me to agree with whatever he wants. I know he’d go to any length to keep his family safe, and I will have to learn to let him. “Babe, if I wanted a woman who obeyed my every word, I would have

been married a long time ago. So I’m asking you to please give me this. I need it,” he whispers into my ear. “Okay, Jaxxon,” I say into his arm, as I snuggle against his warm body. “I love you, Kalliope,” he states, his words filling a void in my heart. “Always,” I whisper back.

Epilogue Four months later The death of Dominic Hall and rescue of Morgan Lake was national news. For weeks afterward, reporters parked themselves outside our home waiting for a comment from me, Morgan, or the assembly of sexy men that saved our lives. I got calls from the Today Show, MSNBC, and even Dr. Phil wanting an interview. I didn’t want anything to do with that crap, and neither did Morgan, but that didn’t stop their relentlessly annoying pursuit. Morgan and I have become extremely close. The horrors that she endured during her captivity were never made clear to me, but I was told by

Jaxxon that it probably involved the worst case scenario I could conjure. She hasn’t shared it personally with me yet, and I’m not going to ask. Her family was bombarding her with questions and babying her every move, which for a twenty-five-year-old, was overwhelming. I decided to intervene, insisting that she come stay with Jaxxon and me. She needed the reprieve, and I needed the company while he tied up loose ends in Quantico. The Bureau had of course accepted his transfer to South Florida. They were aware of his financial situation and weren’t willing to lose a talented, specially trained agent over a residency discrepancy.

At Jaxxon’s request, which we then discussed together, he had Colton stay with Morgan and me during this time, and I soaked up every second of it. Our friendship has morphed into something different than it used to be, but it is no less beautiful. Watching Jaxxon and Colton form the relationship they should have always had has provided me a form of peace that I didn’t know I was lacking. They act like twins now, even ganging up against me on occasion, and it always results in a smile on my face. Our marriage had been swiftly annulled, the lack of consummation making it fairly easy to take care of. Well, that, and the fact that money bought

a pit bull attorney that got shit done quickly. Jaxxon was then able to add me to his insurance under a domestic partnership clause. As far as I can tell neither Max nor Colton have made much progress in gaining Harper’s forgiveness. She had asked me after everything went down to not bring it up, and I agreed knowing she would come to me when she wanted my advice, not that I was a relationship guru. After Jaxxon returned from Quantico, we slowly found our routine. He is still uber protective, but learning to give me space. I know that my carrying his child, and his having absolutely no control over our bean messes with his head. He

has had to learn to relinquish all control and trust that I will protect our baby. Morgan doesn’t leave the house often, but she’s out with Jamison now. Jaxxon had requested that his team here include him too. He was more than willing to move to the sunshine state saying that he enjoyed wearing shorts year round. Total bullshit, I’ve never seen the man wear shorts. He’s her first phone call when she needs to venture out, and he constantly says yes. Jaxxon’s hand lightly grips the back of my neck, so I tilt my head to see him. I moan as his delicious mouth connects with mine, his soft lips heaven. As he pulls away he nods his head toward the television, “Babe, pause that

for me. I need to review something with you.” I grab the remote as I mentally scan through my day, trying to remember if I’ve done anything that warranted a Jaxxon review. I’ve educated myself on his quirks the past few months, one being that if I did something he didn’t approve of, he would wait until the end of the day to bring it up in a casual conversation. I’m not sure if he waited for his benefit, a cool down period, or for mine, when I’m relaxed and less moody. “What’s up?” I ask, confident I haven’t irked him today. He takes the popcorn from my hands as he moves to sit on the coffee table, “Been working on a case for a few

weeks now, a man named Rocky Anderson. We believe Rocky is a key player deep inside a human trafficking ring. Along with that, he’s also a loan shark, drug dealer, and general degenerate scumbag. He’s got his hands dipped into a lot of shit, and we think he’s keeping the local police off his back by padding their pockets.” “Okay,” I reply slowly, shifting to sit straighter, unsure as to why he’s telling me all this. “Intelligence has been gathering the names of people who are involved with his business dealings or are associated with him in any way. This includes individuals who owe him money. Harper Sloan is one of the names that came up.”

“No way,” I state as my head shakes. Jaxxon, clearly anticipating my reaction, moves over to the kitchen table, grabbing a manila file, and handing it to me as he takes a seat on the couch. Awesome. It’s always crap news when he hands me a damn file. My stomach drops as I scan the document. Pictures of Harper at the ATM, of her going into a seedy looking backwoods building, bank statements with large withdrawals, and her name on a contracted loan for $100,000 from Mr. Anderson. “Pay it,” I plead. “Pay it off, Jaxxon, please.” “It will be taken care of, but we

can’t make any moves right now. He knows who I am. Shit, he probably knows every agent in Florida, and if a member of the Bureau paid off her debt, it would tip him off that we are investigating him. He thinks he’s flying under our radar, and we need it to stay that way. I’m only telling you any of this because I promised you I wouldn’t keep anything from you anymore. You and Harper are back under twenty-fourseven protection detail effective immediately.” He moves, getting down on his knees on the carpet, his height making him close to eye level with me. He moves my shirt up, exposing my protruding belly, and places his palms over it.

“In order to keep an eye on her, Colton has orchestrated a story that involves her having to look after Morgan. He got them an apartment in the same complex as his. Jamison is informing Morgan of this move now, and he will be on hand to help her with the transition.” Colton, my brilliant best friend has finally found a way to get her out of that dilapidated apartment she’s been living in. He enlisted her “help” with Morgan. “This is the part you aren’t going to like. Harper cannot know under any circumstances that you know anything about her affiliation with Rocky or her debt. The risk of her slipping to the wrong person could mean your life.” He

lightly squeezes my belly, pressing his point in deeper. “I know she’s your girl, and you were both cut deep by the choices Colton and I made, but I wouldn’t ask you to lie to her if it wasn’t completely necessary.” “Jesus, Jaxxon.” I sigh, bringing my hands up to cup his strained face. “Harper is my family, but there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect our baby.” I move my hands over his, our connection cradling the life we created. “I get it. I won’t say anything.” And I won’t. I’ll have to formulate a plan, avoid Harper as much as possible during this investigation in order to keep my level of dishonesty to a minimum. I know that in the end she will understand

that I was just doing what I had to do in order to protect my family, including her.

A word about the author… Lauren Reign is a graduate of the University of Tampa. She currently resides in Tampa, Florida, with her fiancé and their two rambunctious dogs. She is an avid reader, suffering from an obsession with all things romance. When she’s not engrossed in getting the characters in her head down on paper, she’s busy saving the world, one spray tan at a time. Visit Lauren Reign at http://www.laurenreign.com Twitter: @Lauren_Reign Blog: http://laurenreign.blogspot.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Laurenreignro

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