Wicked Fascination

by J. M. Brister

  No, actually he didn't want someone like Freya.

  He wanted Freya.

  Sighing, he was about to suggest that he take her back to the guesthouse when she suddenly spoke up.

  “You were in the military,” she said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Apparently, now that she realized who he was, she remembered some details about the famous—or infamous—Brian Ash.

  “Yeah, seven years in the Army—my last four in the Rangers.”

  “My dad was in the Navy,” she proffered.

  “Yeah, but we won't hold that against him,” he said, a smile crossing his face.

  She almost smiled as well.

  Almost.

  He could see it on her face. She wanted to smile, to be happy, but something was holding her back.

  “You must have been so brave...to do what you did in the Army,” she said quietly, her voice drowsy.

  He hesitated, thinking that 'brave' was not the word he would use. Yeah, he had done what he had had to do. So had everyone. Before he could say anything else to her, he looked over to see her eyes closed.

  “Freya?” He asked quietly.

  There was no response. Getting up from the couch, he walked over to her.

  “Freya?” He tried again but to no use. She was out cold.

  She looked so peaceful, so beautiful that he couldn't bear waking her. So instead, he slowly but steadily positioned her so that she be more comfortable on the couch and threw a warm blanket over her. Hopefully, that would be comfortable enough.

  Before he left her, he couldn't resist the temptation to run his fingers along her hair. Lord, it had been driving him crazy all night. And he was not disappointed when he felt the soft strands of brown curls.

  Like fucking silk.

  When he left her to go upstairs and try and forget about the gorgeous woman sleeping on his couch before he did something stupid, all he could think about was what he could do to make Freya his.

  Chapter 10

  Sunday, May 24

  1:26 AM

  James sat in a shabby New York City hotel room, staring at his laptop computer. He had gotten into Joe Morgan's condo the night before and had placed a bunch of tiny, discreet cameras around the household. Unfortunately, his hunch that Freya had left New York was true. She had probably left the area after he had left the message on her father's answering machine. The thing that was pissing him off was that he couldn't fucking figure out where she had gone.

  He had searched through every email and phone log that Joe Morgan had, and he had found nothing. She had disappeared off the face of the earth, and it was frustrating the fuck out of him. He was supposed to be in control. It was supposed to be his cat and mouse game. If he had lost her, he'd never be able to move on. He'd keep searching and searching until he had that little slut with a knife at her throat. How dare she pull this kind of shit when he wasn't even close to finished with her yet.

  James's train of thought was interrupted by the beep of his disposable cellphone. Grumbling, he looked at the caller ID and cursed.

  “Yes,” he said, trying to show as much annoyance in his voice as possible.

  “You weren't supposed to leave North Carolina,” the irritated male voice from the other end of the line told him.

  “And you were supposed to keep her in North Carolina,” James replied.

  There was a pause at the other end before the voice said, “How about you find someone else for the time being? Do you even know the problems you've caused me? Joe Morgan has been a pain in the ass for the last few months. Did you even think to screen the girl before you went through with your plan?”

  “It didn't matter,” James replied.

  No one would understand his dark fascination with Freya Morgan. Maybe she was too innocent? Too sweet? Too beautiful? Maybe it was that fucking hair that drove him crazy? Whatever it was, it didn't matter who she was or who her father was. He'd have her again. That was certain.

  “It matters to me,” the other end of the line told him. “You'd better get your ass back to NC before you make a mess.”

  Before James could reply, the line went dark. He slumped against the wall of his hotel room. He was pissed. There was no way that he was going back to North Carolina anytime soon—not when he could easily snoop on Joe Morgan from here. He was certain that Freya would eventually return to New York. She was too dependent on her father at this point. She'd eventually come back to him or at least call him.

  Just thinking of Freya's body made him swell with anticipation. Unzipping his pants, he moved his dick out and began stroking it. He couldn't help thinking about fucking her again. Her pussy had been so fucking tight. Her screams had been so glorifying. He wanted to hurt her some more. She was so fragile that he knew he could break her completely. He just needed a little more time.

  7:30 AM

  Freya woke from a dreamless sleep. When she opened her eyes, she saw surroundings that made her heart take a few extra jumps. She wasn't in her normal bed in the guesthouse that her father had sent her to. She was instead sleeping on a soft leather couch, the smell of bacon affronting her nose.

  She bolted upright, throwing a thick blanket off her in the process. When she realized where she was, she nearly sank back down in embarrassment. She was still at Brian Ash's house, and she had so fallen asleep on his couch. Looking at the light in the windows, she knew it was early morning. The digital clock by his flat panel television told her it was a little after 7:30 in the morning. Damn, what was she supposed to do?

  Peaking above the couch, she saw Brian attending to the stove. Lovely aromas drifted toward her nose. She wished for a moment that he wasn't such a good cook. That way, she could try to ignore the wonderful smells that were bombarding her nose at that moment. Wondering how long she could lie there without detection, she finally sat up to let Brian know that she was awake.

  “Hey,” he said, turning toward her.

  He looked too amazingly handsome. He was wearing a black t-shirt that pulled against his muscles in his upper body way too well. His jeans fell perfectly on his body. It was too much.

  “I am, so, so sorry,” she murmured as she picked herself off the couch and prepared to make a run for it.

  She hadn’t felt this much embarrassment since her hospital stay. Yet, as she tried to leave, a strong hand reached out for her right arm and held her from immediate escape.

  “Freya, where are you running to?”

  It was an interesting question, though she wasn't sure how to answer it. How could she explain her immediate fear of men and touch?

  Brian slowly maneuvered around her so that he blocked the front door and her exit. Why did he have to be so handsome? She wondered this as she stared directly in his eyes. His five o'clock shadow from the previous night was continuing to grow into something sexy and dark. But he didn't seem dangerous; the situation didn't feel as bad as she had thought it would be. In fact, he seemed concerned.

  “It's not a big deal that you stayed the night. You know nothing happened. And you also know that I don't care that you stayed here.”

  Freya stared at him for a moment. She was literally in flight mode at the moment, but something about his demeanor calmed her down.

  “Honestly, I made breakfast for you, and I really wanted you to stay,” he told her, his handsome face making her weak.

  He smelled clean, male.

  “Okay,” she finally told him, feeling tired and worn out.

  If he had meant to hurt her, he would have already. And now, she just had to get over her embarrassment that she had literally fallen asleep on him.

  It was only after he led her back to the kitchen that she realized that he had been touching her arm. It was through her long-sleeved sweater that was still hiding the scars on her wrists but still. When was the last time she had let a man beside her farther or her doctor touch her at all?

  Brian bewildered her in so many ways. And when he shoved a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her, she did
n't know what to say. Should she apologize for the way she had acted? Or just enjoy the fact that someone besides her father had been nice to her? As Brian sat beside her and began to eat his breakfast, he didn't seem to be upset.

  Freya picked at her breakfast. It was delicious, even if it wasn't exactly what she would make for herself. He certainly was a gifted cook. She had never met a man who could cook like him. Her father could make the essentials, but it didn't have the unique flavors that Brian put into his food.

  Starting to feel guilty that Brian had pampered her for the last twelve hours and she had been resistant the whole time, she began her apology with, “Look, I'm sorry I've been so...”

  He cut her off before she could say anything else.

  “Freya?”

  She turned to him and meekly said, “Yeah?”

  “Eat your food,” he said with a grin.

  “Okay.”

  And that was the end of that.

  9:34 AM

  Freya had thought that all she wanted to do was get away from Brian Ash, partially out of embarrassment for falling asleep on him and partially because he was just too darned perfect. Handsome, well-built, successful, sweet—Brian seemed like the perfect guy. But Freya was still painfully dealing with what she had thought was “the perfect guy.” She had trust issues. And she was so flawed. Would Brian even want to deal with her if he knew about her?

  But he wasn't trying to be romantic, she reminded herself. Just nice.

  She sighed as she turned on the shower at the guesthouse. Brian had insisted that he walk her back. She had thought that she would be happy to be back in the seclusion of the guesthouse, but now she felt...lonely.

  All through her shower, she thought about how sweet he had been, how handsome he had been. Then she stared down at the scars on her wrists and her too-thin body. She could have laughed at how pathetic she looked. What man would even want her after what had happened? And would she ever even want any kind of intimacy again? Or had James Walker carved out her libido as well with that knife?

  Shutting off the shower, she reminded herself not to “go there.” If she started feeling sorry for herself again, she'd end up crying for a couple of hours and then sleeping for the rest of the day. Instead, as she dried herself off and found a set of over-sized sweatpants and sweatshirt, she decided to do something constructive for a change.

  There was a computer set up in the main living area of the guesthouse and Internet access, though she hadn't tried it yet. She wasn't allowed to use email, Facebook, Twitter, or any other website that could allow James Walker to find her. However, there was nothing wrong with doing a web search, so she plopped herself down in front of the machine and waited for it to boot up. When she pulled up a web search, she sighed and typed in: Brian Ash.

  She felt snoopy for Googling him, but honestly, if she had done that with James initially, she would have realized that he was full of shit. And maybe she wouldn't be in the situation she was in right now.

  The first web page that came up was Brian's official website. She read through the information, absorbing the things she didn't already know about him. The movie version of his first book had been such a hit that the second book was already in production. Also, she found out that he was currently working on his fourth book. Freya figured that he was probably at his mountain home to find the time to write it. And she had been keeping him from his work.

  Sighing, she went to the next web site on the list. This one made her eyes widen and her heart start beating faster. Scanning the site and a few similar webpages, her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest. They were all celebrity website or tabloid websites, and they all were forcing her to conclude about Brian that he was a player and a lady's man.

  She looked at picture after picture of him posing with other women. Many of them with the beautiful actress, Sydney Grace. Some of them were at various premiers of the movie, but others were at Hollywood parties, at book signings, and exclusive events. However, most of the pictures clearly showed Brian with a gorgeous woman hooked around his arm. There were also a couple of articles about his dating habits. Apparently, his flings with women didn't last very long.

  At some point in time, Freya got too disgusted to read anymore, and so she turned off the computer. She couldn't believe that Brian was like the man she saw in the pictures. However, even if the articles were lies, how could the pictures lie?

  Shuffling toward the bedroom, she sighed, defeated and hurt. She wasn't sure why she felt so hurt. It wasn't like they were dating. It wasn't like anything about the previous night or that morning had been romantic.

  But he had made her dinner. Gave her wine. Made her breakfast. He had been so sweet.

  And he is so out of your league and definitely not your type, she reminded herself.

  So, she did what she usually had done when her life felt too out of control: she went to bed.

  It was only after she had flung the comforter over her head and closed her eyes that she realized that last night was the first night in a long, long time that she had slept without waking up with nightmares.

  2:35 PM

  Alexis Montgomery stared down at her watch and tapped her foot in annoyance. Of course, Howard was running late. It really wouldn't be Howard if he wasn't running late for something, would it?

  She had parked herself in the booth of a local breakfast place in South Charlotte, a cup of coffee sitting on the table. She had purposefully worn a suit again with her hair pulled up in a strict-looking twist. Alexis had wanted to make it very clear that this was not a social call. She wasn't in the mood to get her heart broken again for a man who couldn't decide what he wanted. And she wasn't the type of woman who would let him try again.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, she thought.

  She had contemplated canceling on him. Of course, that was before she had found some information that made her blood turn cold.

  “Hey, did you eat already?” Was the all-too-familiar voice from behind her.

  She turned to see Detective Howard Greene dressed in a pair of well-fitting jeans and a lavender button-down shirt. Most men couldn't pull off lavender, but Howard could pull off wearing a trash bag if he wanted to. He was too handsome for his own good.

  And an annoying asshole, she reminded herself.

  “No,” she told him, trying to stay as business-like as possible as he sat down on the other side of the booth. “I wasn't planning on staying that long.”

  Judging from his expression, her statement had let some of the wind out of his sails.

  However, after a few moments, his face brightened and he said, “Sure. I know how precious the time of an Assistant DA can be, but I think you'll find that what I found won't be a waste of your time.”

  Oh, if it was anything like what Alexis had uncovered, it would certainly make things very interesting.

  “So, I was digging around on the low-down with some help with my friend at the FBI,” Howard began. He waved for the waitress for some coffee and continued, his voice lower. “Chief Johnson would shit a brick if he knew. He doesn't want us to ‘waste time’ on the Morgan case anymore.”

  Oh, if only you really knew, Alexis thought.

  “Anyhow, so I was doing some digging. There have not been similar cases like Freya Morgan's attack in the North Carolina area, not even around the rest of the country. However...” He trailed off as he pulled out a file and opened it, turning it toward Alexis. “I was able to find some missing persons cases in the Charlotte area. All of these are unsolved. They have been spread out throughout the last ten years, so a lot of the outcry about the girls has died down. See if you can find anything in common.”

  She took the files and glanced at the pictures. They were all young females, most likely in their twenties. All of them were very sweet-looking, like the girl next door.

  “I called some of their family members this week,” Howard continued. “Apparently, all of these women were good girls: church-g
oing, animal-loving, charity-volunteering, very sweet girls.”

  “And you think Walker is responsible for all of these girls disappearing?” Alexis asked.

  “It's a hunch,” Howard said, nodding. “Obviously, I'd need more evidence, like let's say their bodies, for one thing. But still, think about it. Their description matches Freya's, and Lord knows what Walker had planned for her if her father hadn't been there. She could have been another missing person if Joe Morgan hadn't intervened. And to think that I could have made this connection if Johnson had given me more time.”

  Alexis watched as the waitress delivered Howard's coffee and refreshed her own.

  She waited until the woman was out of ear-shot before she said, “Well, first I inquired around at my workplace about similar cases going to trial to see if I could find a connection. When I couldn't, I started asking around about Chief Johnson and Detective Davis. Now, the general consensus among the DA's office is that Davis is inept. No one is sure why he's still employed with his record.”

  Howard snorted and said, “Yeah, try working with the guy. It's worse than you know.”

  “Yeah well, apparently it's common knowledge that he's a terrible detective. And you know Johnson knows that. So, if he gets a case, it means it will go cold. Johnson had to have purposefully done it.”

  Howard took a sip of his coffee and replied, “Yeah, well, the way Johnson was talking, he made it seem like he wanted to get this case solved so that the media would get off his back. At least that was the excuse for booting me from it.”

  Alexis sighed. She had a theory. It was all conjecture at this point since there wasn't any proof. And they'd have to tread carefully if they wanted to continue.

  “Look, about Chief Andrew Johnson,” she started, her voice low. “I know a lawyer who went through Johnson's divorce proceeding a couple of years ago.”