Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

by Luciani, Kristen

  A soft breeze swept through the thin material of her gown. She shivered against Daxton’s shoulder. A deep breath filled her with desire. That cologne; it was her favorite. The mere thought of burying her head into his neck, inhaling his essence…good Lord, and she was supposed to be the chaste one?

  “How about some champagne?” he murmured against her ear.

  Champagne and a cold shower, thank you very much. The bar was only a few feet away. It wasn’t like she could jump his bones right out in the open. Too many iPhones…and Tyler probably wouldn’t appreciate having the focus off Layla, his blushing young bride. “Sure.”

  Finn’s booming voice rang out over her shoulder, making her stumble into a stool. “Hey Daxy! Looking damned sexy tonight.” He nudged Dax’s arm.

  “Ahh!” Dax clutched his midsection. “Dude, what the fuck? You can’t just pound me like that.”

  “Come on, I barely touched you. Stop being such a pussy.” Finn nodded at Sara. “And now your old lady is gonna kick my ass, right?”

  She glowered at Finn and grazed Daxton’s arm. “Seriously, Finn? You know he’s still healing. Any little jolt will hurt like hell!”

  All the color disappeared from Finn’s face. “Dax, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was still that bad. You’ve been so much more active lately.“

  “You’re such a jerk, Finn!” She touched the bandages under Daxton’s starched white shirt. “Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

  Daxton winked at her. “I’m good. I promise. I’m just fucking with him.”

  “You’re a real dickhead, man.”

  “Have some respect for the injured. Have you ever taken a knife to the chest? Had it slice up your insides like Carpaccio?”

  Finn drained the rest of his beer. “Still scrounging around for the sympathy votes, huh? It hasn’t gotten old yet?”

  Time could never erase the image of Daxton lying unconscious on the floor of his green room, in a pool of his own blood. After all they’d been through, the knowledge that she might lose him was crushing. Nightmares haunted her every time she closed her eyes, and would continue to do so until whoever did this was locked up behind bars. Better yet, dead. He was lucky the knife had missed his heart, but it did plenty of damage to his stomach and lungs. God, it could have been so much worse. And it wasn’t over yet. The sicko who’d done it would be back. Deep down, she knew it. And next time, would they be as fortunate?

  “You know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” Daxton whispered. “He’s jealous I have my own personal nurse, who likes to dress up in those sexy little outfits and take care of my needs.”

  “Or maybe I just want you to stop wallowing and get back into the studio so we can finish recording the next album.”

  Cooper stumbled over, tripping into Sara, a near-empty highball glass clutched in his hand. “I always knew she was a dangerous one. Kick his ass, Sara.”

  She snickered. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that through the slurring.”

  “Just trying to have a good time. It’s been a long few months.”

  “Have you heard from Laney?” Sara lowered her voice, but based on Cooper’s level of intoxication, the answer was pretty clear.

  “Nope.” A grimace shadowed his face, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. “It was a mistake. I never should have started anything.”

  “Coop.” Sara furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “We just didn’t fit. Fuck her.”

  Laney still hadn’t returned from her trip off the deep end following Gia’s accident. Her career was crumbling, band members displaced, her livelihood in a shambles. For a guy like Cooper, who already had his own demons hot on his heels, she wasn’t the ideal mate. And the crash was devastating to watch.

  “You know the right girl is out there.” Sara squeezed his hand. Saying too much was almost as bad as keeping quiet. The last thing she wanted to do was tear open old wounds and douse them with salt, but the guy was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He needed help, not more booze.

  “Maybe…” His voice trailed off and he slammed his glass on the bar. “Another, please. Make it a double.”

  “Coop.” Dax’s eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe you should go easy tonight.”

  “Dude, I don’t need a lecture. Let the wifey look out for you. I’m good.”

  The hell he was.

  Merrick appeared behind Daxton, his normally spiked blue hair slicked back. “You look good, man. How are you feeling?”

  “Can’t complain. I’m getting daily sponge baths from my hot little nurse, complete with happy endings.”

  A hot flush heated Sara’s neck, traveling to her cheeks. These guys were like brothers, but still, they didn’t need those types of details.

  Merrick stiffened and clinked the ice cubes in his empty glass. “Great. I’m glad to hear you’re on the mend.”

  “You know, I still don’t get how that crazy motherfucker managed to escape without a trace. There were no prints left on the weapon, no eyewitnesses. Nada. Merrick, you really didn’t see anything?” Finn drained the rest of his beer.

  Merrick’s shoulders hunched, and he averted his eyes. “You guys already heard the story. I told the police everything I know. I was in the bathroom, and the noise must have startled the perp. I didn’t even know Dax was in there until Sara showed up.”

  Wait, what? “But Merrick, the lights were on when Sean and I got there. And I thought you told the police you’d come into the room to find your phone.” That in itself had been a little hard to swallow, considering the guy’s device was permanently glued to his hand. Not that they would have any reason to doubt him, since he was Daxton’s best friend, but why was the story changing now?

  He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flashing. “Look, I was bleeding and dizzy as hell. Maybe I flipped on the light before I collapsed. I told you, I didn’t see anything.”

  “Yeah, but then why didn’t you call for help? You must have seen Dax. Why would you have left him?” Sara’s fists clenched. And what was this about the bathroom? That wasn’t something he’d ever told them. Or had he? Jesus, she’d been so consumed with panic that night. Was it possible she misunderstood? Or was she just going nuts?

  Daxton wrapped an arm around her waist. “Babe, stop. It’s over. You know Merrick was behind the couch when he was attacked. He wouldn’t have seen me.”

  She took a deep breath, stomach churning. That gruesome imagery was forever branded into her memory. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I just…can we not talk about this anymore? Please?”

  “Yeah, I think it’s time for another round. Who else needs one?” Cooper’s words were even more slurred, if that was possible.

  “Cooper, why don’t you and the guys grab seats at the table where Liam is sitting? I’ll get the next round.”

  Cooper let out a loud snort. “I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, Sara.”

  Yeah, too bad you’re not able to stand.

  “You can get the next one.” She shook her head at Daxton. Jeez, were they going to need an intervention? Cooper was in a downward spiral, and they had to figure out a way to pull him out before it sucked him in permanently.

  Cooper slinked toward the table, grumbling with each step. Sara expelled a long, unsteady breath. At least he wouldn’t be off banging cocktail waitresses or bridesmaids. Not that he hadn’t tried.

  She twisted toward the bar, a loud gasp escaping her lips. “Merrick! I didn’t see you standing there. Why didn’t you go with the others? I can handle this.”

  His eyes darkened for a split second, so fast, it was almost as if she’d imagined it. “I figured you could use a hand. Come on, there’s another bar in the guesthouse. It’ll be faster than waiting for one of the waitresses.”

  “Good idea.” She linked her arm with his, feeling his body tense against her. The guy was moody as hell, even more so over the past couple of months, but she’d chalked it up to the stalker still being on the loose. Everyone was
on edge, including her, since there were absolutely no leads. It didn’t seem possible, but the attacker had escaped without a trace. She darted her eyes around the expansive grounds. Tyler spared no expense for security. Nobody was getting beyond that armed beefcake barrier.

  A canopy of white fabric blanketed the outdoor bar, tulle wrapped in soft white lights winding down the spindles. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she scurried toward an empty space in the corner. Perfect. She could slip right in and snag the attention of the bartender-slash-model checking himself out in the cocktail shaker.

  A strong hand gripped her shoulder. “Inside,” Merrick mumbled. “It’ll take forever out here.”

  “But there’s a spot right over—”

  “Trust me, it’s better if we go inside. They keep the better stuff out of the heat.”

  For such a long time, she’d turned herself inside out to get on Merrick’s good side. Sometimes, it just wasn’t worth it to argue. Air-conditioned booze? Lead the way.

  After a short walk behind the gardens, she grasped the brass handle and pushed open a large, white door leading into the guesthouse, squinting so her eyes would adjust to the darkness. “Merrick, are you sure this is the indoor bar? I don’t think there’s anyone in he—”

  A large hand clapped over her mouth, Merrick’s large silver ring clanging against her tooth. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. Oh God, what was happening?

  He shoved her against a wall with his hulking body, one hand still pressed to her lips, one hand slowly closing around her throat. The sound of shattering glass around her sent chills zipping down her spine. Her eyes struggled to adjust, but there was not even a single sliver of light in the room. No refuge from the ominous darkness that consumed her and swallowed her whole. Breaths became shallow as her airway tightened in his vise-like grip. No oxygen… can’t breathe… Her limbs morphed into wet noodles, a clanging noise reverberating between her ears. Nobody would find her in time, even if she could manage to squeak out a single syllable. An icy sensation assaulted her fingertips, shooting up her arms and down her legs. Each passing second guided her closer to her last.

  “Those other whores were so easy to handle, but you?” His grip around her neck loosened. “You kept slipping through my fingers. Not anymore. No, I finally have you right where I want you.” He let go of her throat and reached into his pocket.

  Tears blurred her vision. It had been Merrick? But why? Her body quaked with silent sobs, mind foggy with confusion.

  “He was never yours, Sara. He was always mine.” The stale stench of scotch made her stomach roll. He bit off a piece of gray duct tape and slapped it over her mouth.

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. This can’t be happening.

  Merrick leaned closer, his bright blue eyes darkening, filled with malice, his voice dripping with disdain. “Yeah, you’re finally getting it, aren’t you? I know you’re from Podunk, Middle America, but you’re no moron. Your dipshit boyfriend Eli told me just enough about your past. All I needed to do was fill in the blanks. Thanks to Google, that wasn’t too hard. And guess what else? I’m not willing to share. You’ve already taken too much.” He held up a syringe and flicked the needle with his finger. “So I need to get rid of you, and I’m gonna watch you suffer for every time you fucked Dax, before your body finally gives up. Just like you watched your dumbass druggie boyfriend drown in that lake. How’s that for poetic justice?”

  * * *

  The sun dipped low on the horizon, an orange glow settling over the grandiose white silk tents. Tyler and Layla graced the dance floor, unable to keep their hands - or mouths - off one another from one second to the next, acting more like horny teenagers than adults. Well, at least Tyler was an adult. The verdict was still out on his wife. There had been lots of speculation on her actual age, but no confirmation. With that stripper body, she’d no doubt keep him sated, that was for sure.

  Cooper tapped the face of his watch. “Hey, where the hell did Sara go for those drinks? I’m losing my buzz.”

  Daxton scanned the crowd, desperate to shrug off the feeling of unease that had settled into his conscious. Every time Sara disappeared from sight, panic overtook, the knowledge that some crazy stalker was still out there, lurking patiently for the next opportunity to pounce and inflict harm on her. But saying anything would only give credence to her fears, and the last thing he wanted was to see her in distress. Dammit, he should have made Sean follow her. Fuck normalcy. A couple of months ago, things were different. But now, they were living in a different time; a time where sick fuckers wouldn’t rest until their target was eliminated. “Maybe she had to make a pit stop.” The evening air was cool, but the goose bumps popping up along his arms weren’t caused by the drop in temperature. Enough time had passed. When his arms were wrapped around her, he’d be able to relax. Then, and only then. “Hey, I’m going to run to the guesthouse for my guitar. I left it in one of the bedrooms.”

  “Text Merrick. He’ll get it for you. It’s a long walk.” Liam draped an arm around his girlfriend, Lacie’s, shoulders, dropping a kiss on her bare skin.

  “It’s fine. I can walk a few feet, lazy ass.” Daxton gripped the arms of the chair and lifted himself out, gritting his teeth. Still sore, but fuck it. He was alive.

  Cooper slammed his hands on the table. “I’ll come with, as long as we can make my kind of pit stop along the way.”

  “Great, and if I have to carry your sorry ass, who’s gonna have my back?”

  “You’re looking mighty sexy tonight, brother. I’m sure someone will happily volunteer for the job.”

  Daxton rolled his eyes. “Let’s move. You know Tyler hates to be kept waiting, and we have to do a quick sound check before we get on stage.”

  Crowds of wedding guests spilled into every available space on the dance floor. Pulse pounding beats vibrated the floor beneath his feet, the sounds almost loud enough to drown out all thought. A girl in a tight black bandage dress flashed a slow smile as he pushed Cooper past the bar. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with something a little more potent than just plain excitement, and the come-hither look wasn’t wasted on her target audience.

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” Cooper mumbled under his breath. He grasped Daxton’s shoulder. “Dude, why don’t you go ahead without me? I think I’m ready to make that pit stop right about now.”

  “You’re a real tool, you know that? We’re supposed to perform in ten. Don’t get lost under her dress for too long.”

  Cooper snickered. “Dress is like Saran Wrap. It ain’t staying on long.”

  He watched Cooper saunter up to the silicone-enhanced brunette, a smile tugging his lips upward. Whatever got his mind off Laney. Chick had gotten under his skin like…Christ, like only one other before her. Bad news. Wait, scratch that. Obscenely, horrifically, colossally, horribly, bad news. Fuck that. He couldn’t watch Cooper tumble down that rabbit hole again.

  Soft, white twinkling lights illuminated a path toward the guesthouse, and there was still no sign of Sara. Dusk had set in, and no other light shone from the windows. The place looked deserted. Why weren’t any of the guards flanking entrances with their Uzis? The iron gates were a decent deterrent, but it wasn’t like some sicko would have to scale barbed wire to get beyond the perimeter. Not like there were attack dogs patrolling the property, although he’d have paid a shitload for a canine contingent. He pressed his fingers to his temples, his feet pounding the cobblestones. Fuck! Why did he let her go alone?

  He reached the closest door, breathless, the windows completely black. A loud crash from inside the house made him jump. He stumbled backward into a large bush, grabbing onto the branches to keep from falling into the dirt. Needles pricked his exposed skin, but it was better than face planting into the flowerbed. A quick scan of the grounds confirmed he was still alone. His pulse throbbed, fuzzy memories of the attack looping through his mind. Logic crept into his conscious. Go back to the reception, find security, don’t open the door.

  But
his hand ignored the persistent voices. The only thing driving him was Sara. He grasped the brass handle, the heavy door creaking open, blanketing him in darkness. His chest tightened, unsure of what he was about to find, hoping it was just one of Layla’s cats knocking into a vase. But the icy sensation slithering down his spine told a different story.

  His trembling fingers found the wall switch and slid it upward. “Sara?” No response. Nothing but eerie silence. He crept toward the nearest hallway, avoiding the porcelain chunks scattered across the marble tile floor. No cat in sight.

  Get help! Find Sara!

  Call Sean!

  Competing thoughts rang between his ears, all reason flying out the still-open door. Someone was in the house with him. He felt it.

  Click, click, click.

  Daxton’s stomach clenched at the intruding sound, his fingers closing around a nearby brass lamp stand. He pulled his arm back, prepared to strike. His muscles tensed, grip tight. Fucking lamp was heavy, and he’d make sure it did enough damage to stop whoever the hell was terrorizing them.

  A shadow from one of the rooms appeared on the shiny tile floor, slowly getting larger as it approached.

  Click, click, click.

  “Dax.” Merrick appeared from a nearby doorway. He looked like shit, rumpled, sweaty, completely opposite his normal coiffed self. “You came.”

  All the breath vacated his body. He collapsed against the wall and dropped the lamp stand. “Q, what the fuck are you doing in here in the dark? I thought you were that crazy stalker.”

  Merrick ran a hand down over his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Daxton’s eyes widened. Blood spotted the front of Merrick’s white shirt. “Are you hurt? Why is there blood on your shirt?” His temples pounded. “Where is Sara?”

  “Did you really not know, Dax?” Merrick inched closer. His voice was flat, blue eyes void of any emotion, dull, lifeless.