Dangerous To Love

by Toni Anderson, Barbara Freethy, Dee Davis, Leslie A. Kelly, Cynthia Eden, J. Kenner, Meli Raine, Gwen Hernandez, Pamela Clare, Rachel Grant

  After second later, Julia burst back into the room, reaching for her purse and tugging her keys out of her pocket. “We gotta go.”

  Seeing her tension, he immediately rose, as did the others. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your reporter friend,” Julia explained as she turned and stalked back out. Aidan’s heart skipped a beat. He stormed after her and overtook Julia at the front door, grabbing her arm, every muscle in his body snapping to attention. “What about Lexie?”

  “You said she went down to talk to the victim’s mother. Is that in a bad part of town?”

  The tension rose. “Yes.”

  “You know how to get there?”

  “I’ll figure it out,” he growled, ready to explode if she didn’t tell him what was going on.

  “Okay, let’s go. Morgan says she’s about to get in some kind of trouble.”

  That was all he heard, all he needed to hear. Aidan didn’t hesitate. Nor did he look back to see if anybody else was coming. He flung open the front door and stalked toward his own car.

  “Let me drive!” Julia called. “So you can jump out when we get there.”

  The way she said it made him realize they had no time to waste. “Fine. But go fast.”

  She chuckled as she ran toward the driver’s seat. “I don’t know any other way to go.”

  Saturday, 11:45 a.m.

  Lexie thought she had seen the worst of life in the Boro when she’d gone to Vonnie’s apartment. Now, though, as she stood at the mouth of a narrow alley thick with trash and bejeweled by flecks of broken glass, she began to know better. In the shadowy channel between two ugly brick buildings, she was trying to talk to two suspicious, hostile teenage girls wearing platform shoes, booty shorts, and push-up bras.

  They were young—one sixteen or so, the other probably a bit older. But their eyes held the misery of much longer lifetimes. One was white, one black. Both were utterly broken.

  She’d definitely hit rock bottom.

  Honestly, if she hadn’t gone looking for them, it wouldn’t have occurred to her that girls this age were walking the streets of Granville. Of course, every town had its pros and everyone knew the inn out by the interstate rented rooms by the hour. But she’d never envisioned a thriving climate for teenage prostitution here.

  Unfortunately, once the girls had realized she wasn’t a paying customer looking for some kinky, same-sex thrills, they’d wanted nothing to do with her.

  “Please, I just want to talk to you. I’m a reporter; I’m not here to cause any trouble.” She dug for her wallet. “I’ll pay you for your time.”

  The teens looked at each other, then around the alley, as if suspecting a setup. Finding a couple of twenties, she shoved the money at them. They took the cash, then both crossed their arms, visibly belligerent, but no longer attempting to walk away.

  “I’m trying to find out what happened to Vonnie Jackson.”

  One of the girls immediately frowned. “Fuck Vonnie. Thinking she was all better’n us.”

  “Chill, Ruby,” said her younger friend.

  “And the others,” Lexie quickly added. “All the other missing girls.”

  “Wait!” said the younger one. “You’re the one wrote them articles about the Ghoul.”

  The Ghoul. Damn you, Dunston. Gritting her teeth, she replied, “Yes.”

  “He’s real, ain’t he? You had it right all along.”

  “I think so.”

  “And now he got Vonnie?”

  She could only nod.

  The older one—Ruby, whose lips were as red as her name—rolled her eyes. “Who gives a shit? Vonnie got what was coming to her, being stuck up and too good for the neighborhood.”

  Though she certainly disagreed, Lexie wasn’t about to antagonize them now that they were talking. “What about the rest? Brittany and Shayna, Tracy, Jessie. . . .”

  When she said that last name, the two prostitutes exchanged a quick, secretive look. Not one other word had inspired the reaction, just the mention of the first victim, Jessie Leonard.

  “You knew Jessie?”

  “She was . . .”

  “Can it, Tyra,” said Ruby. “We don’t know jack shit, lady. Ain’t our business to know.”

  Lexie wasn’t about to give up, not when Tyra looked ready to share something important. The girl’s eyes were huge, and her mouth trembled. She was completely cowed by her friend.

  “Please, Ruby,” she urged, “don’t you want to get this guy off the streets before he comes after you or somebody you do care about? He’s targeting girls from the Boro, probably nine in the past few years. How long do you think it’ll be before this becomes your business, when it’s your sister, your cousin, your best friend?” Staring hard, she added, “Or you?”

  Ruby’s lip curled up a sneer. She opened her mouth, as if to say something caustic, but not a word came out. Slowly, reluctantly, she closed it again. Though anger still shone clearly on her face, she had conceded the point. For all the toughness and swagger, this was still just a kid. Grunting and shaking her head, she looked away, giving tacit permission for Tyra to speak.

  “What can you tell me about Jessie?” Lexie asked.

  “I heard stories ’bout where she was goin’ that night. The night she disappeared.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  Tyra visibly swallowed, looking around again, toward the shadowy depths of the alley into which they’d ducked for their conversation. “That she was joinin’ the club.”

  “At school?”

  Ruby snorted. “Hell, no.” She glared at her friend. “And she wasn’t joining it, any more than any of us join it.”

  Not following, Lexie pressed them both. “What is this club? Where?”

  “Middle’a nowhere,” Tyra said. “They blindfold us on the ride out so I don’t know for sure. Big ol’ fallin’-down house out in the country, can’t even see the road from the front of it.”

  “Who’s in the club?” she asked, knowing she was onto something.

  “No idea,” Tyra said. “Just know girls like us is invited to come along sometimes and there’s lotsa men.”

  Girls like them. “Prostitutes?”

  Ruby’s mouth tilted up on one side, though her ancient smile held no humor. “Uh-uh, they like their girls sweet. But after you leave the club? Well, that’s a whole ’nother story.”

  “What the hell’s goin’ on?” a harsh voice suddenly called.

  Seeing the girls’ faces twist in fear, Lexie spun around and saw a white man, probably in his mid-twenties, heavily pierced, wearing leather and chains. Burly and scowling, he looked less like a greasy TV pimp than a Hells Angel. But judging by the way the girls began explaining what they were doing—and how much they’d been paid for it—that’s exactly who he was.

  “Get back out there,” he snarled at them, encircling Ruby’s upper arm in one beefy hand. He squeezed hard, then shoved her toward the entrance of the alleyway. Neither of them looked back, hurrying on their impossibly high heels out to their corner.

  “I was just talking to them,” Lexie said, edging after the girls. She was in trouble here, serious trouble. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she could be attacked on a sunny Saturday morning on the streets of dinky little Granville, even if she was in the Boro. “I’ll be going now.”

  He grabbed her arms, just as punishingly as he’d grabbed Ruby’s, and pushed her toward a brick-walled building. Lexie tried to twist away from his brutal grip. She was in pretty good shape, but her three times a week Zumba class was no match for his bulging muscles.

  “Let me go,” she insisted, knowing he was trying to scare her. “I’m working on a story.”

  “’Bout my girls? You better keep your mouth shut.” He shoved her against the wall so hard her back screamed. Her head thunked against it, hard enough to make her vision spin.

  “No,” she said, blinking away tears of pain, “not about that. I’m looking for the Ghoul.”

  “You found on
e.” He released one arm so he could grab her throat. And squeezed.

  Lexie tried to swallow, but was thwarted as he pressed harder. Her breaths were shallow. She couldn’t seem to draw a full one as he closed his hand tighter against her windpipe.

  This guy wasn’t just trying to scare her off. He could really hurt her.

  Though terrifying, that thought chased away any remnants of simple fear. There was no thought, no considering. Instinct just kicked in. No way was she giving in without a fight.

  Leaning back against the wall and letting her eyes droop, Lexie sagged a little, as if losing consciousness. As she’d hoped, his grip on her throat loosened. When she felt him start to pull back, maybe to see if he’d actually killed her, she reacted. Jerking a knee up hard, she aimed for his groin, shoving at his chest with her free hand at the same time. She didn’t make full-on contact, but judging by the pain in her knee, got him with at least a glancing blow.

  He bellowed in pain. “Bitch!”

  Kicking at him, she grabbed at the hand holding her throat, but couldn’t hold it away for more than a few seconds. Her ploy hadn’t gotten her free and now his rage made him squeeze harder, as if he fully intended to kill her. His eyes bulged and his face had reddened with utter fury. She began to feel light-headed, and her legs wanted to give out, in truth this time.

  Lexie couldn’t believe this was real. She was a few feet away from a major street, a block from her favorite bakery—a place she’d been to dozens of times. Can this really be happening?

  “Let go of her, you son of a bitch!” a voice snarled.

  Strange, that had sounded like Aidan’s voice. Which was crazy, since he couldn’t possibly be here, and she didn’t think he was capable of that kind of fury. Maybe she was having some kind of hallucination as she lost consciousness.

  Then her attacker was violently yanked away. Bending over, Lexie heaved in several deep breaths. Her throat ached, and so did her head, but right now she could only think of how grateful she was to the strange man who had saved her life—the man who was now brutally punching her assailant.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. Because the strange man was Aidan.

  “Lexie, are you okay?” a woman’s voice asked.

  Blinking, she looked into the pretty face of a dark-haired stranger, who eyed her with worry. That made her again wonder if she was dreaming this, having one big hallucination as she dangled by the throat from some brutal psycho’s fist.

  “You’re going to be fine,” said a second woman—a blonde—putting an arm around her. The two pulled her away from the wall, toward the end of the alley where a car waited, its doors open as if all the occupants had leapt out in a rush.

  “Aidan,” she whispered, pulling away. Maybe this was real. If so, no matter how strong her dream-lover was, she seriously doubted he was a match for a thug who could be armed and almost certainly would not fight fair.

  “He’s all right,” the blond-haired woman said.

  Turning around to see for herself, she nodded in relief when she realized Aidan wasn’t alone. Another man was with him. Together, they had wrestled the burly pimp to the ground and were whipping her assailant’s own leather belt out of his pants to bind him with.

  “I’ve called 911,” one of the women said. “Let’s go sit in the car and wait for help.”

  But she wasn’t moving. Now that she could breathe easily, Lexie felt much more clearheaded. She had a headache and a sore throat, but was otherwise fine. And what she most wanted right now was Aidan, who was bent, with one knee on the pimp’s back.

  When he finished lashing the man’s hands together, Aidan finally looked over at her. Their eyes met and locked. His were slate-gray and livid, fury etched on his handsome face. Remote and cold, he looked more than capable of ripping apart the man who’d attacked her, or anyone else who happened to get a little too close.

  She would not have imagined it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, given his usual calmness and intellect. But right now, Aidan looked utterly primal, as capable of brutal violence as any embattled soldier.

  As their long stare continued, the bloodlust began to leave him. She saw the movements of his chest slow as he took a few deep, calming breaths. Then he slowly rose to his feet. Not sparing a single disdainful glance at the man on the ground, he walked toward her. With each long stride, his anger seemed to further melt away. As his gaze moved over her—the tangled hair, the probably bruised throat—his rage was replaced by almost tangible tenderness. Protectiveness. As if they were much closer than either of them would have believed possible.

  The dreams.

  He was treating her like a lover, enraged for her, fighting for her. Now wanting only to see for himself that she was really all right.

  When he reached her, he didn’t pause, didn’t slow in his steps. He merely walked right into her, putting his strong arms around her shoulders and drawing her tightly against his chest.

  “You’re okay,” he whispered as he tenderly stroked her back. “You’re fine. You’re safe, Lex. I’ve got you.”

  She slid her arms around his waist, burrowing tighter against him, certain she had never felt more secure in her entire adult life. They had barely touched before now—except in her dreams. But stepping into this man’s embrace was like trying on something new and discovering it was exactly what you most needed and had been seeking your whole life. They just fit.

  His heart thudded against her chest, and they were so close her lips brushed against his warm neck. Aidan’s spicy scent filled each breath and their bodies molded together, softness melting into hardness, until they were like one person standing in the alleyway.

  Lexie let it happen, took the silent comfort he was offering and lost herself in it. It had been a long time, so very long, since she’d leaned on anyone, or felt anything other than completely and totally on her own. For years, she had relied on only herself. She’d been proud and determined, certain she was up to any challenge and while it was nice to have other people around, she hadn’t let herself need them.

  That was all well and good, and she’d done a fine job of living that way. Until today. When she’d been shown that things could get really ugly, really fast, and she wasn’t always able to take care of them all on her own. Sometimes, she really did need someone else.

  Funny, though. It suddenly felt it wasn’t him hauling that beast off her that she’d so needed. It was this: this moment, this embrace, this connection. Having a welcoming pair of arms to step into and a strong hand on her back, a powerful heart beating against her and his voice whispering tender reassurances.

  This was what she’d most needed.

  She knew Aidan was every bit as affected. There was no reserve, no stiffness. He held nothing back. Gone was the strong sense of self-protection that usually kept him from getting too close to anyone. Inviting all the trouble and anxiety that touching anyone could cause, he’d not only touched her, he’d imprinted himself on every inch of her and didn’t seem to care one damn bit that he might suffer for it later.

  “It’s all right, angel,” he murmured.

  The truth washed over her and rather than sucking in a shocked breath, she could only sigh as she acknowledged it was true. This mysterious man had shared her dreams. Because in them, while making the most erotic, intense love to her, he’d called her that. Angel.

  She tilted her head back to look up at him, getting a little lost in the blue-gray channels to his soul, and whispered, “It was real.”

  He shook his head once. “No. It was just a dream, Lexie.”

  “But you were there? You were part of it?”

  He hesitated, then slowly nodded. “I was there. Not intentionally, I promise you, but yeah. I experienced it, too.”

  Mortification should have flooded her. She should have at least looked away to try to collect her thoughts and figure out how to deal with something so blatantly embarrassing. Or maybe she should have gotten indignant, worried about her los
s of privacy. She could have made a joke, slapped his face, run away, anything.

  She did none of those. Instead, she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck, twining her fingers in his hair. His eyes widened, as if he had been expecting some other reaction. Maybe an hour ago, he would have gotten one. But not now, not when she’d had a brush with danger that had reminded her of just how alone—and how lonely—she had been for so long. He’d banished that loneliness in her dreams, and made her feel safe after today’s ugly reality.

  “Aidan?” Lexie smiled at him. “I’m glad you were there.”

  Without saying another word, she lightly brushed her lips across his, a first kiss that wasn’t their first—one that was much more demure than those they’d shared in the richness of her heated imagination.

  She didn’t intend for it to be more and would have let herself drop back down after that brief meeting of their mouths. But she couldn’t. Aidan’s arms tightened around her and he held her up.

  They shared a breath. Then he kissed her back.

  Lexie closed her eyes and savored the connection. This wasn’t a quick brush of lips. Yet they didn’t engage in a kiss of deep, hungry passion like they’d shared in her dreams. Instead, it was a sweet joining that asked questions and made promises, a kiss of familiarity and longing. His mouth tasted familiar—warm and welcoming. And his tenderness revealed far more than words ever could have about how glad he was that she hadn’t been hurt.

  In another place, at another time, without an audience, it would have deepened. Feeling a low, insistent hunger rising inside her, Lexie knew how much she wanted it to. But they were not alone and the circumstances were less than ideal. So they finally ended the encounter on a mutual sigh.

  Aidan let her down, but he didn’t step away immediately. Rubbing a thumb across her cheek he whispered, “I’m glad, too.”

  A sharp trill of a siren suddenly echoed down the alley and they both realized this was over, for now. It was time to get serious again, time to deal with what had happened to her, and to utilize the information she’d gained this morning.