by Mason, V. F.
His jaw tics, his eyes unreadable under the sunlight streaming from the double doors leading outside, and even through such small contact, I feel the tension surrounding us along with an unfamiliar emotion from him.
Fear.
Before he can reply to me though, his phone rings and he answers. I have a split second to see Zeke’s name flashing again. “Yes.” Whatever Zeke says to him eases the beast roaring inside him as he sighs with relief practically pouring from him. “Are you absolutely sure? You’re a dead man if you are lying.” He hangs up, and I gasp when he pulls me to his chest so that we are mere inches apart from each other. “My baby girl is safe. We’re getting married, because then the person he’ll hunt will be me.” He delivers this stupid conclusion, based on his own deductions, right before his mouth connects with mine—just in time for the people entering and emerging from the elevators to observe, obviously, by their shocked gazes.
But just as quickly, his mouth is gone from mine, and then my eyes widen when he drops to his knee in front of me, taking a black velvet box from his pocket and flicking it open to showcase an emerald ring surrounded by tiny diamonds on a platinum band. He doesn’t even care how his blood smears it.
The stone shines brightly under the light, glistening for everyone to see. A few ladies gasp in the distance, their phones recording the entire damn thing, accompanied by a few flashes from others snapping pictures. “Phoenix, the entire world lights up when you’re around me.” I blink at this and hear someone exclaim, “Oh my!” More fucking flashes in my face!
Zach stays oblivious to the company and continues, “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Although he words it like a question, I don’t miss the steely warning in his tone, his gaze drilling into me and silently ordering me to go along with this game of his that is…
I don’t even know what to call it.
“Oh my God, is she going to reject him?” someone whispers loudly, while I still don’t take my gaze away from Zachary, who lifts his chin and issues me a challenge, as if he has power over me.
Part of me, the vindictive part I thought I never actually had, yearns to do just that and shout in his face that he is a horrible man, and, therefore, I can never marry him.
But the other part, the reasonable one that used to love being a psychiatrist and delve into people’s minds… knows there is merit to his theory and the possibility that this charade could disturb the unsub.
Even if it’s a slim chance, it’s better than nothing.
Until Lydia resolves my case with the state, I don’t have money or social standing to search for the truth, nor a safe place to stay.
Not on the level Zachary King has.
And if maybe before I wanted to be as far away from him as possible… doesn’t he owe me for ruining my life?
He can never make up or be forgiven for what he has done, but I can let him help me in this fight and accept the things he has for the damage done to me by him.
Pride is such a beautiful thing that has kept me afloat during a lot of disasters among cruel people. However, sometimes pride can become our greatest enemy. When we’re blinded by it, we don’t listen to logic or reason.
My past doesn’t dictate my present, so it has no power over my future as long as I understand the lessons given to me. And instead of forgetting, I find strength in moving forward.
For that to happen, I have to find the unsub and break the link, which in his eyes forever connects us.
Only then can I break my truce with Zachary and forever free myself from this nightmare that suffocates me to death.
So, taking a deep breath, I plaster the brightest smile I can muster and reply for everyone to hear, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” An emotion flickers in his orbs, passionate yet dark, and he takes the ring from the box, opening his palm waiting for my hand. The minute we touch, electricity rushes between us, almost burning my skin, but he doesn’t let me jerk it away. Instead, he gently holds my hand as he slips the ring on while our gazes clash, and I’m surprised a storm isn’t brewing from the intensity of this moment.
The blood on his hands almost seems to connect us in the ancient ritual where an oath was sworn on the moon.
And even though I’ve made this decision on logic alone, something tells me my heart won’t be able to stay uninvolved from it, and by the possessive vibe along with the hunter-like stare coming from Zachary, his won’t be able to either.
How is it possible to hate a man, yet your body craves his touch?
But more importantly…
How do you pretend to love him in order for the serial killer to hunt him and not lose yourself in the process?
Chapter Sixteen
“They say some of the greatest love stories are born from hate.
I don’t think I believe that.
Because then I would have fallen in love with Zachary from the first glance.
They say love and forgiveness are our greatest salvations in this world.
I hope not.
Love and forgiveness might just be one thing that will forever break me.”
Phoenix
New York, New York
Phoenix, 18 years old
I wipe away the tear from my cheek, huffing in frustration at it, and mutter, “Guys suck.”
The cab driver chuckles from the front, and I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. He must be in his late sixties, judging by the wrinkles scattered on his face and his warm smile. “Not all of us do.” He winks at me, and I burrow deeper into my coat, tearing my gaze away from him and resting my head on the window, trying my best to enjoy my last hour here until my flight later on tonight. “You’ll meet a better one.”
Digging for my headphones in my purse, I place them in my ears as I’m not in the mood to talk about any future guys.
My phone dings with a message, and despite my sour mood, a smile pulls at my mouth.
Although, I certainly act like it, which annoys me to no end. We are nothing to each other. Wasn’t this whole idea, more of a joke and trying to figure out if all these movies are true?
Spur of the moment idea that should have never hurt me, yet it did, and I don’t know how to react to that.
I laugh at this, ready to write my reply, when a strong wind whooshes inside, penetrating through my coat, and freezing me. “The hell,” I mutter and look to my right to see a guy slipping inside my cab at the traffic light. “Hey!” I exclaim, but he doesn’t even spare me a glance.
Instead, he addresses the cabbie, “If you drive me to the airport, I’ll give you two hundred dollars.”
“The cab is occupied,” the cabbie replies, shaking his head. “Although we’re going in the same direction, if the miss minds it, you’ll have to get the hell out of this car.” I hear a bit of hesitation in his words along with interest sparkling in his eyes at the mention of money.
The guy turns to me. His piercing blue eyes, which go well with his blond hair, hit me with the full force of his handsomeness that his black coat only emphasizes. “Do you mind?”
I blink several times before finally the loud horn of the car behind us snaps me out of my haze and the weird reaction to a stranger. I’ve seen a lot of handsome guys on campus, and none of them have inspired such an instant reaction from me. “No. That’s fine.” I assume he must be late for one of his flights; what else explains such desperation and throwing money away?
But then again, if he’s wealthy, he doesn’t have to count it like me.
The cab finally starts moving, flawlessly driving along the road while the guy rests his head on the back of the seat, exhaling heavily before muttering with his eyes closed, “I thought my balls would freeze off waiting for a cab.”
My jaw almost drops to the floor at his words, not exactly what you’d say in front of strangers, but the cabbie finds it amusing, asking with a laugh, “Not used to the cold?”
“No, I’m from the South.”
“Came for sightseeing?”
“You could say that,” he replies, and his eyelashes, so long I’m jealous of them, flutter to focus his stare on me. “I’m finishing law school soon. One of the places I’m considering working is here.” Then he extends his hand to me and smiles; his grin sends butterflies to my stomach and my heart flips. “Sebastian Hale.”
“Hi,” I say and shake his hand, electricity rushing through us and I gasp, wanting to pull it back, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he waits, and only then I realize I haven’t said my name. “Phoenix.”
I don’t know it yet, but this man will become my everything who will surround me with so much love I won’t remember how I ever lived without it.
He didn’t mind keeping a long-distance relationship and coming to visit me as much as he could, all while our love grew stronger. Until finally we settled in New York, and he proposed to me.
And whenever he whispered sweet nothings in my ear, proclaiming his love and desire for me, I thanked God for planting the idea in me to write to Zach.
Because if it weren’t for him not showing up, I would have never met my first love.
Everything in life happens for a reason… or so people claim.
And Zach?
Zach showed up in my life to lead me to Sebastian.
They say the third time is the charm… and Zach’s third gift to me was his absence, and in that, the set of events triggering the meeting between me and Sebastian was the greatest gift of all.
Or so I thought.
Zachary
The minute the iron gates open in front of me, I wave to my security guard as he nods in greeting, then press on the accelerator, flying inside but paying attention to the narrow driveway in case Emmaline forced Patience to play with her in the garden.
From the corner of my eye, I see Phoenix resting her head on the window, her blank stare not giving me any indication of her emotions. Her palms lay spread open on her knees as she rubs them up and down as if she’s cold.
Since I clasped her hand with mine, pulling her through the throng who took pictures of us, and sat her ass in my car to get home before the press showed their noses, she hasn’t said a word.
Not even to ask to look at my hand that stopped bleeding but hurts like a motherfucker, though I’ve managed to wipe most of the blood away.
No one but the ice queen accompanied me on the way, and I fucking hate that.
I want to know every part of her thoughts, feelings, predictions, or even fears.
Only then I can clear out some of them, destroying others, and calm her down so she won’t be worried about the future I promise she’ll have.
This time around, Phoenix will be a winner and have what life was supposed to give her the first time.
Although I admit proposing to her in front of those people was a low move, she left me no choice. I did it so the news would spread with lightning speed and everyone would be speculating on how the hell it happened.
After her words, I almost lost my mind, thinking the unsub knows the truth about Emmaline and would find twisted joy in revealing her birth details and hurt Phoenix with that. I could never allow it.
I’ll tell Phoenix everything, but in my own time at the perfect moment for both of them.
The truth will mend her broken heart, connecting the pieces I so carelessly broke in the past.
Even if right now it seems like hell to her.
“How do you plan to convince people of the validity of this marriage?” Her husky voice instantly sends a signal to my dick that strains against the zipper.
For fuck’s sake, every little detail about her has the ability to turn me on as if I’m a horny teenager seeing a woman for the first time.
My hold on the steering wheel tightens as I turn to the right, moving toward the main entrance, past the various rosebushes Patience insisted on planting. According to her, this land is too enormous not to have a garden on it.
“I think the ring on your finger and our marriage license will be enough proof for everyone.”
She shakes her head, sitting up straight and half turning to me, her back pressing against the car door. “It’s my third day out of prison.” Surprisingly, her amused chuckles echo in the car. “Hard to believe, considering so much has happened already. But anyway—” She does a sharp intake of breath before continuing. “—you want to convince the whole world we are in love, but your so-called fiancée was out of your reach for over three years. And we both were married four years ago. Everyone knows you were madly in love with your wife.” Her voice hitches on the last part, but I decide to ignore it, although part of me is fucking fed up with her constantly bringing up our marriages.
Almost like a wall she wants to build between us, as if it can stop the passion burning in our veins. We have natural chemistry that probably would have transformed into a hot relationship… if we’d met as free people.
She hasn’t yet closed that door to the past, no matter her long-ass speech to Sebastian back at the bar. Even if she doesn’t want to admit to herself, she probably would have wondered what if… had he not gone and gotten engaged to Felicia.
Does she think they would have had a chance to be together? She’d have forgiven him?
According to the reports, they loved each other deeply to the point of people envying them for it.
I loved my wife. I loved her in a way a lot of women dream of, gave her all of me and threw the world at her feet. She was a remarkable woman who, with her smile alone, had the power to soothe the rage inside me.
She managed to mend the bridge between my father and me, albeit temporarily.
Beautiful, kind, sweet.
I’ll forever thank God for her and want to avenge her death, the injustice done to her. I’ll never be rational about this, the emotion of hate boiling my blood. My restless soul needs to kill the bastard once and for all.
But my wife is dead.
And I’m very much alive.
So she has no place in whatever it is I have with Phoenix right now, and I won’t let her drag Angelica into our mess.
I’m not having a threesome in this relationship.
“Everyone knows you were madly in love with Sebastian too.” Her eyes narrow on this, and her hands clench. She doesn’t like how I turned the tables on her. “For the sakes of our past marriages, let’s not bring it up at every chance you get, okay?” She opens her mouth to protest, but that’s when I pull up to the entrance, stopping my car and placing my finger on her lips. “Remember about the truce?”
Annoyance crosses her face, but she sighs, her lips moving under my finger as her breath fans it, and on instinct, I cup her cheek, rubbing it softly.
The minute the action registers in our minds, her eyes widen and she takes a sharp intake of breath while I freeze. The car fills with tension and desire so strong I can almost touch it.
Her pulse speeds up, and I thread my fingers in her hair, pulling her closer to me while tilting her head and leaning toward her, our mouths inches away from each other. “Zachary,” she whispers, need and denial lacing her tone, yet she shifts closer to me, craving the physical connection despite forbidding us from it.
“You have to ask for it, darling.” My lips brush against hers for a fraction of a second, catching her surprised gasp as I press mine against hers and then slide them down, nipping on her chin. “What do you want?”
Her fingers dig into the lapels of my jacket, gripping it hard, and a raspy breath escapes her. “You’re a poison that’s slowly killing me from the inside out,” she replies, her fingers sliding to my neck where she runs it softly over my tattoo of Emmaline’s name and then places her hand over my heart, feeling my even heartbeat under her palm. “A curse I don’t know how to break.” She fists m
y shirt, her voice barely above a whisper. If I wasn’t sitting so close to her, I wouldn’t have heard a word. “Everywhere I look, you are there. No matter how much I try, I can’t run away from you. Fate must have a twisted sense of humor too, since she made it almost impossible not to be with you.” She leans closer, until her lips brush over my ear as she speaks into it. “I can’t lie that my body doesn’t react to yours. But to give you control like that over my body would be so foolish of me.” And with this, she pushes me, and since I don’t see it coming, I almost hit the car door with my back, cursing inwardly at her rejection.
Yet, at the same time, in awe of her for refusing me when her body clearly craves for me to stop this misery it’s in.
Phoenix’s chest rises and falls. This time, her voice is confident and steady with no traces of affection in it when she says, “This truce you reminded me of involves us not talking about last night. Don’t try to use my body in your game.” She opens the car door and gets out, slamming it so hard I wonder if she broke it.
My mouth twitches as I laugh for the first time in forever at meeting a woman who barks orders at me and expects me to obey.
Ah, Phoenix.
You are indeed special in so many ways.
But she is wrong.
I don’t want to use her body in any games, although having her addicted to me would make all this shit way easier, especially with us having to pretend to be madly in love.
No.
I intend to burn right along with her in the smoldering passion of our creation, and her beautiful body will come alive under my hands.
A smart man never gives up on a woman he desires obsessively.
And no one can call me stupid, can they?
Phoenix
“Unbelievable,” I mutter on my way toward the mansion. My body still trembles from the earlier scene, craving to indulge in Zachary one more time, while my mind screams at me for how insane and dangerous this idea is.