Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection

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Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection Page 77

by Lisa Daniels


  “I can’t. He hasn’t said anything but my gut tells me that he might. Moreover, this reality show…”

  “What about it?”

  “I think it’s giving the cons some kind of blanket immunity somehow. I don’t think it will much matter what I say in those sessions. I think they’re protected although, for the life of me, I can’t understand how.”

  Luke swallowed, not trusting his voice.

  “What are you saying?” he breathed, his words almost inaudible against the noise of the restaurant. “What are you proposing to do then?”

  Maria sighed heavily and lowered her eyes, shame written all over her face. She was a silent for a long moment as if considering her next words carefully.

  “Doctor?”

  Slowly, she raised her eyes and met his sadly.

  “I’m saying I will help you find Blaise’s accomplice. I’ll find out who killed your partner.”

  He gaped at her.

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said before, but I feel like the circumstances have changed.”

  “How?” Luke asked before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this was proving to be too good to be true. The doctor was offering to compromise her ethics to help him.

  “Doctor, what has changed exactly?”

  She sighed warily. “There’s something weird happening in that house,” she breathed, her eyes darting around nervously as if she expected to be overheard. “And frankly, it scares me.”

  Chapter Five

  The Dragon’s Den

  The more time Andrew spent in the house, the more he realized that he had fashioned a sweet deal somehow.

  Ty had remained true to his word. There was nothing but dragons and ex-cons sharing the three-story house and for the most part, each one of them was as wary as the next.

  If not for the constant cameras rolling and Ty endlessly trying to strum up trouble among the residents, Andrew might have been happy there.

  He wasn’t so naïve as to believe that their lives were going to play out without interference, but after coming from a relatively polite prison society to a house where a lack of rules prevailed, Andrew knew Con Lair was going to be a test of his patience through and through.

  Just stay out of trouble. Avoid fights and keep working behind the scenes to find Davis.

  Unfortunately for him, temptations to screw up his current utopia were everywhere and he had to consciously train himself not to take the well-placed bait.

  Simon, for example.

  Without a doubt, Andrew knew that Simon wasn’t, nor had he ever been, a con. Andrew’s theory was that Simon had been put in the house simply to cause controversy and he did it with irritating ease.

  He made a mess in the common bathrooms.

  He put empty juice jugs back in the fridge.

  He flirted openly with Dawson, the stunning redhead who wore barely enough to cover her fully tattooed body.

  Simon was an agitator and Andrew knew it, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but grind his teeth and walk away.

  That would inevitably lead Ty into cornering him and demanding to know why he wasn’t being more social in the house.

  “You can’t get back into society if you don’t deal with the others,” he chided Andrew while smiling at the camera. “You really should make more of an effort, Andy.”

  And he calls me Andy because he wants me to shift and set this entire house on fire.

  But somehow, through all the aggravation, Andrew managed to keep his cool.

  Just a couple months and I’ll be that much closer to my cut and being out of this crappy state forever.

  He had no intention of sticking around to do his year probation afterward. No, Andrew Blaise had a plan, one that would see him out of the endless bind he found himself in.

  First, he needed to find Davis Alonzo.

  Someone knocked on the door and entered before Andrew could answer.

  “Chow time,” Ty announced and Andrew grimaced. The sit-down meals and “group therapy” sessions were starting to remind him of prison.

  “I’m not hungry,” Andrew muttered. “Get out.”

  Ty made a snort of annoyance.

  “I don’t need to remind you every day that you’re obligated to eat with the other housemates.”

  He studied Ty closely. “What difference does it make if I’m there? You have seven other people to cause drama in this farcical environment.”

  Ty’s scowl deepened. “Sometimes I swear you’d rather be finishing up your sentence at Perryville,” he snapped. “I can make those arrangements if you want.”

  Their eyes clashed and Andrew felt his fists ball at his sides.

  Is he daring me to shift so he can throw me back? Is that what his plan is?

  Andrew reminded himself that Ty Comer was not his issue.

  At least not right now.

  “Well?” Ty hissed. “Are you coming down to join the house or are you going to stay up here and bide your time before I call the DOC?”

  “Why do I get the feeling that this discussion won’t make it to television,” Andrew retorted, spinning to leave his room. “You wouldn’t want your viewers to know that you’re blackmailing us, would you?”

  “Why not?” Ty chuckled, but Andrew caught the edge in his tone. “You signed on for this, remember?”

  Andrew didn’t respond as he made his way down the stairs and toward the dining room to meet with the other members of the household.

  He took his place near the head of the table where another squabble was breaking out between Simon and Raffi, but Andrew tuned them out. His head wasn’t in the house, no matter what his contract dictated. His eyes raised as he felt Ty staring at him, silently willing him to participate in the drama at hand, but Andrew refused to take the bait.

  Today I deal with Davis and my money. Tomorrow, I will seek my revenge on the others who have wronged me.

  He smiled coldly at Ty, but the house master didn’t return his beam.

  Careful there, Ty. I have enough rage for everyone and an eternity to see it all through.

  As if reading his thoughts, Ty shifted his eyes away and Andrew sat back, a slight rush of contentment overcoming his solid frame.

  But his relief was short-lived when Simon “accidentally” dumped the gravy on his lap.

  Instantly, Andrew was on his feet, his eyes flashing with fury.

  “You did that on purpose,” he snarled, but Simon threw up his hands in mock innocence.

  “It was an accident!” he protested, a slight squeal to his voice. “Sorry!”

  It took every ounce of willpower Andrew could muster not to throw the smaller being fully against the wall, but in his head, he heard a voice whisper.

  You’re so close. Don’t blow it.

  Simon’s eyes clashed with Andrew, obviously daring him to react, but from somewhere deep inside him, he mustered a long-forsaken sense of self-control.

  “I said sorry,” Simon intoned as Andrew whipped himself away from the table and stormed toward the stairs. As he moved, he caught the smirk on Ty’s face and he realized that the head of the house had planned for the incident.

  Davis first. Ty second, Andrew vowed. He wasn’t sure which one he was going to have more fun taking down.

  Chapter Six

  Unraveling His Mind

  The choice had come with a heavy burden, but as Maria entered her second session with Andrew Blaise, she did not regret her decision to help Luke Rivers.

  She had done some serious soul searching after her first encounter with the surly con and the answer had always been the same: Blaise was dangerous.

  Just because he had never been caught committing a violent crime doesn’t mean he hasn’t done one. Men have been known to go into prison non-violent and come out murderous. I wonder if Andrew Blaise is one of those men.

  Maria had a game plan for her upcoming sessions with the man and she hoped tha
t when she saw him, she would be able to maintain her cool demeanor, but she worried that Blaise would bring the worst out in her. She couldn’t understand why this particular patient was so much more difficult for her than any other she’d dealt with in the past.

  A part of her was shamed that she felt so strongly after only one session, but her gut told her she was right about him.

  The man was not like the others she had treated.

  You are a trained psychologist. He is nothing more than a man seething in anger. You cannot allow him to overcome your professional standards.

  But the reality was, he already had. Agreeing to disclose confidential information to the police was encumbering Maria’s sterling reputation and as she waited for Andrew to arrive, she wondered again if she was making a crucial mistake.

  She reasoned that anything that Andrew said to her would be on film anyway and therefore not covered by the rule of privilege, but the thought did little to alleviate her guilt.

  Did I really even give Blaise a chance? The first session is always the rockiest, especially when the patient is being court-ordered into therapy. I should not have jumped the gun.

  Maria considered that the pity she felt for Rivers had clouded her judgment. The man had lost his partner, after all. She was supposed to be on the side of angels, helping for good.

  When she arrived at the house for her next appointment, Andrew was fifteen minutes late meeting her and Maria was annoyed. This is a pattern with him, she realized, recalling how he had been over half an hour late the previous time. It had nothing to do with the house or the show. It was Andrew Blaise’s way of showing he had the upper hand in their sessions.

  This stops now, she decided. It was bad enough that she was taking time out of her day to go to the house and even though she was being compensated by the show for the extra time and expenses, Maria was not about to bend to the will of the narcissistic tendencies of Andrew Blaise.

  Finally, at a quarter after one, Blaise sauntered in, smugly smirking.

  “Hey, sugar,” he greeted, plopping directly onto the loveseat. He was wearing the same outfit as he had been on Friday and Maria idly wondered if they had bothered to spend a budget on wardrobe for the ex-cons.

  None of my business. I’m sure with what they’re being paid, they can afford a new wardrobe of their own.

  She eyed him through her reading glasses before removing them from the bridge of her nose.

  “You’re late,” she said flatly, ensuring that he knew she wasn’t impressed.

  Andrew feigned a look of surprise. “Am I? It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”

  Oh, he thinks he’s cute. I’ll set him right.

  “I want us to get one thing straight,” she told him sternly. “If you’re late again, I will write you up. If you are late three times, it will be considered a violation of your parole and you will be thrown back in prison to serve out the remaining four years of your term. I don’t care what red tape they cut through to bring you to this show, but if you continue to antagonize me, Andrew, I will do everything in my power to make sure you end up back in jail.”

  The sly leer slowly slipped from Andrew’s face as her words reached him and a look of uncertainty crossed his face.

  “I dare you,” he told her, but he did not move from his lazy position on the sofa. “Because if you do, I will murder you.”

  The statement was even and almost pleasant, but the chills it sent through Maria was undeniable.

  Don’t show him you believe him. Hold your ground.

  “One more thing,” she told him frostily. “If you threaten me again, I will have you thrown back in jail so fast, you won’t even have time to remove your disgusting boots from that very expensive sofa. These conversations are recorded, as you well know. You have already violated your parole three times in two sessions and waived confidentiality by being here. Keep it up and you’ll have your wish. You’ll be done with therapy because you’ll be staring at the bars of a cell.”

  The two locked gazes and for a moment, Maria thought she saw a glimmer of respect in his blazing jade eyes.

  “It’s hard to lock me up if you’re dead,” he replied almost cheerfully and Maria recognized that he was going to continue with the pissing contest.

  “Try me,” she answered, holding his gaze. “You don’t have any history of assault. The closest you ever came was when your partner murdered those people during the bank heist. Seems to me that you blow a lot of smoke but can’t really follow through, can you?”

  Andrew guffawed. “What partner?” he asked. “I killed those idiots. They should have stood down when I told them to. Damn shame about the cop, though. I like pigs. BLTs are my favorite sandwich.”

  He grinned but there was no mirth in his smile.

  Maria could imagine what his opinion of law enforcement was after spending that amount of time locked up. She would be naïve to believe that inmates did anything but fight for their lives on the inside.

  Only the strongest survived.

  And Andrew Blaise was still standing.

  “You can talk all the crap you want, Andrew, but there were over a dozen witnesses who saw two of you in there that day. They know the guy who pulled the trigger was not you.”

  “The witnesses were scared shitless. One of them pissed themselves. Another one threw up all over his shoes. They were all seeing double.”

  Maria could tell that she would get nowhere with her questions. She shrugged indifferently.

  “Whatever you say,” she replied, sinking back into her chair. “But we both know you’re lying.”

  Andrew’s jaw locked and he glared at her defiantly.

  “What the fuck do you know about anything, sugar tits? You think because you have a degree to brain-fuck people, you’re smarter than me?”

  Maria chortled but her palms were slick with sweat. She was playing a dangerous game with an irate man, but at least she could see she was pushing the right buttons.

  “Obviously I am smarter,” she answered, mustering up every ounce of cockiness she could find. There was a shallow well in her at that point, but she surged forth, unsure of what his reaction would be. “If you were the lone robber, the one who killed those men, you would have been long gone with that four million by now. You wouldn’t be sitting here trying to prove you’re a big, tough man.”

  The silence which followed was almost deafening as Blaise’s lips twitched. He seemed to be attempting to formulate words, but nothing was escaping.

  Abruptly, he jumped to his feet, his eyes narrowing.

  “Why are you asking me so many questions about the heist?” he hissed. “I thought you were a shrink, not a cop.”

  Maria’s face paled slightly but she didn’t waver.

  “I think in order to get to the bottom of what’s on your mind, we should start with your crimes,” she offered, thinking quickly.

  You asked too much, too fast. He’s onto you already. This was a stupid idea.

  “I think you don’t know nearly as much as you think you do, sugar tits. And I think this session is over.”

  He stormed from the office before she could reply and despite the almost overwhelming fear she was feeling, Maria knew that she had gotten the ball rolling.

  I have to call Rivers right away, she thought, taking deep breaths to steady her nerves before rising from the desk. Her hands were shaking, but before she could head out the door, Ty Comer appeared.

  “Session over so soon?” he asked lightly and Maria realized he had been watching the entire thing.

  “It happens,” she replied shortly, reaching for her tape recorder. “What can I do for you, Mr. Comer?”

  “We ran your last session at a beta screening,” he said and Maria cocked her head to the side in confusion.

  “You what?” she asked, not understanding a word that was said.

  “We took the recording of your session and played it for a test group,” Ty elaborated. “To see what they like and what they don’t care for.
They’re called a beta group.”

  “Oh.”

  Maria had no interest in any of it and she shuffled toward the door.

  “You are really well liked by the audience,” Ty continued, blocking her from leaving. “They want you to be a recurring character.”

  Maria’s mouth parted and she stared at him in shock.

  “Recurr—I’m a psychologist, Mr. Comer, not an actor and I’m certainly not part of a reality program.”

  “We have other residents who have therapy sessions. All you would have to do is come and see them, too. They would just sign off transferring their care to you—”

  Maria held up a hand to stop him from speaking any more.

  “I am not disrupting my life nor theirs for extra ratings, Mr. Comer. But thanks for the offer.”

  She wasn’t even sure if she was being complimented or insulted by the offer.

  “What will you do if Andrew gets cut from the show?” he insisted. “Will you consider taking on one of the other residents then?”

  Maria peered at him skeptically.

  “I didn’t realize it was that kind of show,” she said slowly. “Are you voting people out of the house or—”

  “No, no,” Ty laughed nervously. “How sadistic do you think we are?”

  Does he really want me to answer that? Probably not.

  “Then why would he be cut from the show if you’re not throwing him out?”

  “There are other reasons someone might leave Con Lair,” he replied slowly.

  “Such as?” Maria was getting irritated with Comer’s opaque language.

  “Doctor, I heard him threaten you,” Ty said quietly. “You don’t have to put up with that. You should call his parole officer right away and have his parole revoked.”

  Maria’s head jerked up.

  “No!” she replied. “It is too early to gage what, if any, threat he might be. He is just out of prison after a long stint. It is a huge transition for anyone to make. Give him a few more sessions before making any snap decisions.”

  “It might be too late by then and it would be devastating if something should happen while he’s still on the set,” Ty muttered.

 

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