“Damn, you’re a bitch this morning.” He crawled over her, morning wood jutting in his boxers. “You make me into an asshole. I’m not that guy. Why are you always pushing me?” He flexed his dick against her.
She didn’t move. Didn’t react.
He rolled his hips against her. “Make up with me.”
“You want breakfast?” she asked. “French toast sounds awesome, right?”
“Nope.” He pressed his mouth to her unmoving lips. “I want you.”
“I don’t want to.”
His hand ran roughly over her stomach and grabbed at her breast. “Since when did you start sleeping with a bra on?”
She shrugged timidly. “Fell asleep like that after working.”
“Peaches. Seriously. I keep saying it. It’s like you want to hurt me,” he growled against her ear. “Like you want to be some rejected lonely girl no one would ever understand. I understand you. I take care of you. If you didn’t push me, none of this would happen.”
She snagged the covers and tried to tuck them in between them as his hands jammed down her pants. He scraped his fingers between her legs—she was dry as the Sahara on a summer day.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked.
“I don’t want to!” She pushed at him, and her hand caught his attention.
His eyes narrowed. He grabbed her bare left fist then the other, just to make sure he wasn’t wrong. “Where’s your ring?”
Color faded from her face. “Must’ve fallen off.” She scurried underneath him, digging her hands under the pillow. “See? Here?” She slipped it on.
“What are you now? A dry-pussied whore, sliding her ring off,” he yelled in her face.
“Matt, stop. You haven’t even been drinking.”
“You think I need to drink to show my woman what the rules are?”
“Stop!”
Rage poured into his blood. He sat up then kicked her dumb-ass dog off the bed. “You. Do not tell me what to do. Do you understand me?”
“I’m leaving.”
He grabbed her, not letting her up from the bed. “Why the fuck do you make this happen?”
“I haven’t,” she whimpered, bending to submit to his pull. “I—”
He yanked her pants down to her knees, and she squirmed, rolling hard as if she would run out of bed. “Stay.”
Bacon growled, jumping back on the bed. He yipped at Matt’s back and bit the back of his legs.
“I’m going to kill this dog. You know that? Fucking slice it’s throat.”
“No. Please.” Her voice shook.
A round of pleasure ran through him because she knew he’d really do it. “Behave, and I won’t. Simple. If that’s how this has to be, peaches, then so be it.”
He got up, grabbed the biting, barking mutt, and threw the dog out the bedroom. He relished its squeal, then he slammed the door.
“You’re not drunk,” she whined.
He shook his head and dropped his pants. Then he descended on the bed, ready to take what he needed by any means necessary. With each kick and thrash, confidence bled into his veins. Every lost job, every moron boss, every jealous inclination calmed in his thoughts when she finally gave up and took what he had to give.
“Such a good girl. I love you so much.”
She lay there, not looking at him until he turned her head to make her eyes meet his.
“I said I love you, peaches. I wish you wouldn’t make us fight.” He pressed his kiss to her mouth, but she didn’t kiss back. “So stupid. It’s like you want me to kill your stupid fat puppy just to get your attention.”
“No!”
“Then I said I love you.”
“Love you too,” she mumbled.
“I won’t ever do that again. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
She sniffled. “Please don’t hurt Bacon.”
“Don’t make me, and it’ll be okay. Okay? Deal? Are we good now? We both understand what we need to?”
“I want you to stop drinking.”
He laughed. “That’s not the problem here.”
She shook her head, still pinned under his weight. “I’m going to go stay with Meredith.”
Smack. Her head snapped to the side.
“If you leave me, I’ll bring you home. Remember that. Without the fleabag.”
“Please get off me.”
“When you understand.”
She nodded violently. “I understand.”
“Please don’t make me do this again.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He kissed her, and she opened her mouth. “All is as it should be.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Phiber spent hours on the computer in a Virginia coffee shop, diving through the underworld channels of all things SilverChaos. There weren’t many crumbs to find. Most of his information was based off of whispers and guesses about who Silver was, almost never with any kind of consistency. He had told the Taskmaster that Silver was someone he’d approached at the last con party, but they wanted proof. More than what he had provided with his guesstimation and gut instinct.
So he moved down to where she lived, following her when he could, and went about his confirmation plan. It was the equivalent of manual labor. He was, by hand, pulling every scrap of discarded security footage he could find from the locations where SilverChaos had won or played a part in a hacking event, and every major highway, airport, and parking garage in a five-mile radius to those events. He ran facial recognition programs, vehicle identifying programs.
For as elite as Silver was, she didn’t know that she was being hunted by him. By whoever his employer was, which even he couldn’t figure out.
“Perfect.” He leaned back in his chair and took a bite of his scone. He clicked send, and the file with all of his compiled proof that showed he was correct in his research, still keeping himself relevant by not sharing who she was—even that she was a she—went to the Taskmaster.
He spent the next hour waiting for a reply. Then the next two hours drawing out a lunch of coffee shop muffins and granola bars. Phiber tapped his fingers, bounced his toes, and hit refresh on his computer a dozen times an hour. He wanted an acknowledgment that he had pulled off a feat. That he had all the proof that would earn another task and a bank deposit from the Taskmaster.
His cell phone beeped, and Phiber jumped for it.
Confirmation accepted. Bring Silver to a secure location. Bank transfer incoming.
What? Like kidnap her? His stomach tightened, uneasy at where this was going. Abduction pricked at his morals. She didn’t look like much. He could probably carry her under his arm even if she kicked and screamed. But there was a difference between stealing a program and information, and stealing a woman.
Phiber hit refresh of out habit, and a bank notification email popped onto the screen. He clicked it. He wasn’t a greedy fuck, but damn, that was a lot of money. Running his tongue over his teeth, he leaned back and nodded, accepting that he was willing to be bought, that upping his rap sheet from breaking and entering to kidnapping wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t get caught. Which he wouldn’t. He was cocky enough to know he was good.
Grabbing his cell phone, he tapped out a message.
Not a problem.
Then he prayed the woman got out of her house more often than she had in the last few weeks. It’d be easy enough. He’d just grab her. Right? Or trick her? Coerce her? Shit. Dealing with people was his weakness. He wasn’t suave, and she’d probably recognize him. Maybe he should just knock on the door and put chloroform over her mouth. Kind of cliché, but it wouldn’t always be in the movies if it didn’t work.
He rubbed his face, uncomfortable with how the assignment had devolved but encouraged by his bank account. If he could stalk a person online, real life should be easier. He popped a piece of stale scone in his mouth then took off to go research secure locations.
***
Lexi wandered the grocery store aisle, wasting as much time as sh
e could. Matt had dropped her off out front and watched her go in. She was certain he was waiting at the curb, ready to take her bags with a smile and a hug. The world thought he was such a good guy. On the surface, he was attractive with a fun personality. But the guy was rotting from the inside out.
The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that he would hurt her if she tried to leave. Like really hurt her. Not just force her to bed and violate her or hit her. God, for how smart she was, this was confusing. Especially the sex. It wasn’t sex—it was rape. Or assault? How did it work if the guy was her fiancé? If she eventually gave up and just let it happen to get it over with? The process wasn’t as painful when she opened her legs, so what did that mean?
A cold chill ran down her spine, and she spun, certain Matt could see her shopping and read her thoughts. But he wasn’t there.
God, now she was going crazy. But she couldn’t shake the feeling he had eyes on her. She squared her shoulders and pushed down the aisle, not wanting to get caught lollygagging. She sped down the rows, occasionally seeing the same guy with his face covered, hunkered over a shopping list, also filling his cart. Other than that, no Matt.
She turned the corner again, and the other man was gone. Maybe not on the same speed. This was crazy. Paranoia was getting the best of her, yet her senses tingled as though something wasn’t right.
Um, yeah. Her fiancé had forced her to have sex that morning then threatened to kill her dog…
She pushed through the checkout line and briefly considered asking about a back door. She could run away to Meredith’s. But a cold panic rushed over her at the thought of Bacon being used to punish her. The second she could get that dog alone, she was gone. Decision made.
Lexi took her change, ditched her cart, and took the bags on her arms. She rounded the corner and saw Matt waiting at the curb, as expected, right as she slammed into another person.
“Oh, God. Sorry.” Her bags fell, the apples escaping. “Shoot.”
She bent to grab them, and as she gathered them up, she looked at the man hovering over her. It was the hat guy from the aisles. But as soon she zeroed in on his Asian features and the tiny scar above his lip, her mind registered him hitting on her weeks ago, states away, asking if she knew SilverChaos.
“Phiber?” she asked.
He handed her an apple. “Hi. Nice surprise.” His eyes looked predatory, as though he knew who she was and wanted something.
“You live around here?”
“Visiting.” He smiled as he had at the last con party. “I was just heading for an early lunch. Be cool to talk shop if you want—” His eyes flew up.
An urge to run away hit her hard, and she backed into a solid wall of muscle. A hard arm snaked around her.
“And who the fuck are you?” Matt growled, clinging her tight to his side.
She didn’t want him to be her white knight, but something was off in a big way.
“Just a co-worker.” The guy threw up his hands, standing down to Matt’s brutish nature and physical size.
“You know this guy?” His hand clasped to her shoulder.
“We’ve met once.”
Matt’s jealous rage glared off of his face. “Get in the truck, peaches.”
She scurried away, unnerved that Phiber had been in her real-life world, though perhaps that was bound to happen eventually. Matt joined her in the truck, slammed the gear into drive, and sped off.
“You know that guy?” he asked again, distrust in his voice.
“I think we’ve worked on a project before. Or something. He recognized me, I guess. I didn’t at first.”
“Why’d you rush away from him?”
“I didn’t.”
“He the kind of guy you like to put out for? That nerd screamed computer boy.”
She winced. “No, it’s not like that.”
“So you didn’t want me to see him with you.”
“Matt, really, it’s not like that. I promise.” But what was it like? Her eyes closed, and she recalled that scary, hungry look in Phiber’s eyes.
“I’m not a jealous guy, peaches. But I swear to shit, you push me.”
“I know you’re not,” she lied. Damn it. She could barely run from one guy, and now another had unnerved her? “I’ll put a roast on, and everything will be fine. I was just caught off guard.”
Her stomach turned, but the more she thought about running into Phiber, the more she didn’t trust her reaction. It had been completely over the top. Matt was making her paranoid. Really, the people she worked with were loners who did not do well with normal interactions. Couple Matt rushing up behind her when she backed away, and the guy was probably scared to death. The whole thing was harmless.
“A roast sounds great.”
“Great.”
His eyes roamed over her body, making her feel more like a trophy than a person. “You know, Lexi, you’re the only girl who’s ever going to be in my world.”
The words were sweet, but the tone was a threat. “Of course.”
“You and that damn dog. Safe as long as we’re together.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The day had come and gone. Matt had headed out with some guys from the neighborhood, leaving her alone to stare at the empty backpack that she could easily pack and leave with. Two days had passed since she’d run into Phiber, and for those two days, Matt had treated her like a queen. His distrust had melted away the second they arrived at home. He didn’t make any moves on her and told her everything she cooked was delicious. The guy even threw a load of laundry in the wash. He apologized over and over for being a dick, saying that he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it and sometimes his temper and jealousy got the best of him.
It was all bullshit.
Right?
Why did she even doubt?
I’m so sorry. I hurt you. I shouldn’t have. I love you, peaches.
Her stomach turned—she hated the nickname peaches—yet, staring at the empty bag, she couldn’t begin to decide what to pack or where to go. She exhaled, hating and doubting herself. She rubbed her head and wondered what her breaking point was if it hadn’t been passed already?
Enough. Lexi tried to concentrate on Monarch. If she sold it for what Shadow was banking on, then they could quietly put that money into her savings account, and maybe she could just disappear. By the time she came back from wherever she’d hidden, Matt would have moved on. Maybe.
Bacon jumped into her lap, and she rubbed her sweet head. “I won’t let anything happen to you, sweet little Bacon Byte.”
Bacon sneezed and wheezed—wow, Lexi needed to help her rescued little pug lose some poundage. Somehow the dog had become her best friend. She chatted with Bacon, cuddled her as if the dog was the cure to Matt. As if she didn’t need to fear being alone when she had the pup in her arms.
“You and me, Bacon.” Then she kissed Bacon’s furry head and went back to work.
Screen after screen, Monarch was beautiful. The program she’d designed was just like its namesake, starting as something fragile and maybe even ugly. But this was a work of technological art. Strong. Gorgeous. Smart. It was—
A crash rattled in the backyard. Her heart sank. Matt was back, and that was his truck backing into the recycling bin. A dead giveaway of how much he’d had to drink. The truck door opened and slammed, then Lexi heard him curse the trash can for being there. Where it always was. Guess Mister Nice Doting Fiancé was gone. Big surprise.
Maybe he’d come in and rant over a game of pool lost. Maybe he’d come in and demand dinner at—she checked her phone—one in the morning. Whatever he did, she prayed he’d pass out sooner rather than later, ideally on the couch so she wouldn’t have to hear his drunk snores.
Their back door crashed open, and he spilled himself inside. Her body went rigid. Even though she knew she should go meet him, she didn’t move. Maybe she could pretend to be asleep.
Lexi jumped up when she heard him kick the kitchen trash can. It scatte
red across the floor as she dove into bed. Just another trash can she’d replace without comment. They seemed to always break. Often.
“We gotta go to bed, Bacon.” She snagged the covers and buried them both in deep. Her pup licked her face, and she tried to shush her. “Sleep.”
“Lexi!”
She held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. I’m asleep, I’m asleep, I’m asleep…
“Peaches, where the fuck you at?”
Go to sleep—
Her bedroom door swung open and bounced off the wall. Bile simmered in her stomach, inched into her throat. Don’t be an asshole tonight…
Matt wandered into their bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes. The stench of the bar permeated the room. Cigarette smoke gave her migraines, and even on his clothes, his hair, his breath, it made her sick. The bathroom toilet flushed, and Matt staggered in the darkness. She couldn’t see him but knew the haphazard, staggering steps he took toward their bed. Thank God he was passing out.
The covers tore off her. “You sleepin’?”
The sound in his voice made her want to vomit. There was something mixed in with the drunkenness and lust. He’d promised never again to take her like before. Said it was a mistake, that she had caused it but that he shouldn’t have done it. Most certainly tonight, she had caused nothing.
“Sleeping, Matt.”
“Roll over.” He grabbed Bacon and threw her.
“Matt!”
“I’m gonna kill that dog if you love it more than me. Stuff its fat ass and put it in the living room to remind you.”
Tears burned her eyes as she remembered when he’d forced her to have sex days ago. She had two options. One was over faster than the other. One left bruises on her hips and the insides of her thighs and came with a day’s worth of him explaining why he’d had to do what he did. If push came to it, the lesser of two evils—sex with her fiancé—would happen. She’d been so stupid, stupid, stupid not to leave earlier.
“I was sleeping, baby,” she mumbled, praying that it mattered this time. Her arms mentally reached for Bacon to make sure she was okay. “Tomorrow? Please?”
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