The Dark Paradise Trilogy Box Set

by Heather C. Myers

  “Come on, Jack,” she said, looking up at him with her hazel eyes. Andie saw Jack’s brow twitch, but it vanished in an instant. “There’s a group of people who want to meet you.”

  Jack nodded and looked at Andie again. “I’ll see you at one o’clock Monday afternoon then,” he told her before heading into the party.

  Andie shook her head, watching him leave. She pinched herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream and found that, no, this was actually reality. She had gotten the internship from Jack Phillip himself.

  5

  Keirah would never admit it, but she took extra care in getting ready for work the next day. Fridays were known as a paperwork day where she got to leave at three instead of five, and as such, Keirah could come in dressed casually. Even so, she still decided to grab a pair of slacks and a nice shirt. The only clients—if there were any clients—were scheduled for the morning. That, however, changed with the arrival of Noir. He was scheduled for an hour long session with Dr. Hawkins Monday through Friday at exactly one o’clock. Because the client was high-risk and deemed a first priority from District Attorney Lucas Burr, Hawkins couldn’t show up late. The schedule was impossibly strict and Keirah wasn’t sure if the doctor would be able to make such a drastic character change in a twenty-four hour span. However, much to Keirah’s surprise, a couple minutes before one, in walked the doctor, throwing a hurried nod to Keirah before heading into the room without a word.

  At one, Officer Hiro walked in with Noir by his side, clanging with each step he took. Keirah sucked in her breath as she watched the criminal. She knew she shouldn’t; she should be typing up an essay due on Monday or confirming appointments, but she couldn’t help it. He was looking at her too, those hazel eyes shining gold and his head turned at such an unnatural angle that she was surprised it hadn’t fallen off. Then he winked at her and let out a high-pitched laugh before disappearing down the hall.

  Keirah let out a shaky breath and sprung up, quickly heading over to the cooler for a glass of water. Unconsciously, she reached up to fiddle with one tendril of hair that managed to escape the confines of her clip. By the time she sat back down, determined to at least write the hook of the essay, Dr. Hawkins emerged from her room and approached her.

  “Keirah?”

  Keirah looked up, clearly surprised. Once Dr. Hawkins began her sessions, she never disturbed them, especially not to talk to her secretary.

  “Listen, what I’m going to ask from you is a lot. A hell of a lot, really. If we had any other options, I wouldn’t be in front of you. You understand how dangerous Noir is and how necessary it is to get any kind of information out of him, even if it’s just talking about the weather.”

  “Yes …” Keirah furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me.” She glanced down the hall at Hiro, hoping he might have some answers for her. Instead, he was still in his rightful position, guarding the door, looking at Keirah expectantly.

  “Well, apparently those few seconds you shared together really left an impression on him because he refused to speak to me unless you were in the room.” A pause, and then her violet-brown eyes softened. “I know it’s asking a lot, and if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. I wouldn’t blame you. No one would.”

  Keirah sucked her bottom lip in underneath her front teeth. She would be sitting a few feet away from Onyx’s most notorious criminal. He would be looking at her with those eyes that stole her breath and caused every single hair on her body to stand erect. She was nervous, scared, but there was a very small part of her that was excited by the prospect. This was what she wanted to do with her life; she wanted to talk to psychotic criminals, try and understand them, try to fix them. And there was no one that needed fixing more than Noir.

  After rubbing her lips together, she nodded, not trusting her voice. Dr. Hawkins nodded in return and went to go lock her front office door. Keirah stood from her seat, smoothing out the wrinkles on her high-waisted slacks, willing her hands not to shake. She followed Hawkins into the room. The fact that Hiro thought to whisper “Good luck” to her did nothing to make her feel better.

  The minute she stepped into the room, Keirah could feel his eyes latch onto her. She avoided them for as long as possible. They were the type of eyes that could see through her, like she was a shard of glass, and she didn’t want to give him access to her soul. It wasn’t likely he would return it. She heard Hawkins shut the door and take her seat. There wasn’t any other place for Keirah so she stood, making a right angle between Hawkins and Noir.

  “Okay, now what—”

  “Yanno,” he interrupted, his eyes still fixed on Keirah, “there’s plenty of room by me for you to um … sit down.”

  Keirah forced her brown eyes to lock with his. “I’ll stand,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “No, no, no, that won’t do.” He craned his neck so he faced Hawkins. “You. You stand.” His tone had darkened so it actually sounded dangerous. Keirah thought the doctor might actually do it.

  Instead, Hawkins blinked once and stated in a stern voice, “She’s here like you asked. She can stand.”

  “No.” His eyes were bronzed glaciers. “You stand. She sitsss.” He sounded like a snake.

  Dr. Hawkins looked as though she was about to object again. Keirah’s thoughts were the same. Instead, she clenched her jaw causing the muscle to pop. She stood up and headed over to where Keirah stood, telling her to take her seat without moving her mouth. As Keirah sunk her frame into the chair, her eyes found the indent in Noir’s collarbone before the bright orange prison jumpsuit took over. She hadn’t realized that such an innocuous part of a man’s body could be so … masculine.

  “I, ah, see you checkin’ out my, uh, prison garb-ah,” he said, raising his dark brows and then running his tongue along his lips. He glanced down at his own attire before locking eyes with hers. “Me,” he began, and all at once wrinkled his nose in disgust, causing his small nose to crinkle. “I, uh … well, I really don’t like the color orange. Too bright. Too bold-ah. Red, you see, I lo-ooo-ove the color red. It signifies um … contradiction. Love or hate. Passsion or anger. It’s, uh, too bad they don’t have uniforms in my color. I might like it more.” He blinked.

  It was silent for a moment when Noir pushed his brow up again, indicating he expected something. “Your turn, dear,” he said. “I said something, now you say something.”

  Keirah glanced at Hawkins who pressed her lips together and nodded her head, indicating that Keirah could speak.

  “Why do you commit crimes?”

  The question was out of her mouth before she could think to stop it which caused two things to happen simultaneously: Hawkins let out a sigh through her nose—an indicator that she was not happy with Keirah—and Noir threw his head back and let out a cackle.

  “I-I-I … you see, I don’t really like rules,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders and interlocking his fingers. Hawkins started writing, but he ignored her. “Now you answer my question. Are you intimidated by lil’ ol’ me?”

  “No.” At least she hadn’t stuttered this time.

  “Au contraire, sunshine,” he said gleefully. “I think you are. I think I’m already under your skin. And, you see, this might be a problem for you because it would seem that once I’m under someone’s ssskin, I’m there forever.”

  Keirah unconsciously gulped at his indirect threat, but strained her muscles to keep a passive look on her face. She gritted her teeth together, thinking, before cocking her brow and asking, “And what about you? Has anyone ever crawled under your skin?”

  The reaction she received was another one of those blood-curdling cackles. “Now,” he said. “That would be, hum … rather silly, wouldn’t it? It’s as silly as the doc is,” he nodded at Hawkins but still refused to look at her, “taking me on as a patient. And you, talking to me. What drew you?” he asked, standing up. Keirah glanced at Hawkins, but she made no move to get him to sit back down. He took a step t
oward Keirah and she sprung up, if only to protect herself. “My handsome good looks? Wanna figure out how Noir ticksss?” He took a step forward, she took a step back. Why wasn’t Hawkins doing anything except writing? Somehow, Keirah’s heart managed to project itself loudly in her ears. “Tick … tick … tick.” She had no idea how he did it, but every tick was in time with her beating heart. If this had been anyone but Noir and she was anyone else but herself, it might have been almost magical. Keirah’s back finally hit the wall behind her, and he smacked his lips before tilting his head to the side. “Or maybe you wanted to dance? You take a step, I take a step. But where to go when your back hits the wall?” He leaned forward, his yellow teeth clenched in a vice grip, and he snarled at her. “You’re trapped, doll face. And that’s what you’ll be if we keep this little dance going.”

  She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. Hawkins was still writing, not bothering to tell him to sit down. She had to take care of this herself. If she couldn’t handle herself with Noir, she wouldn’t be able to handle herself with anyone.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she said as coldly as she could manage.

  Noir began to laugh, a bit more guttural than before, but it still produced the same results. Fear buried itself deep within her subconscious so that when she walked out of the office, it stayed within her. It would never leave her now.

  “It would seem-ah that I’ve found someone as c-rrr-azy as I am,” he drawled.

  Keirah knew those words would stay with her for the rest of her life.

  6

  Reese would rather be at home in her Victoria’s Secret Pink sweats watching a Law and Order: SVU marathon than at a party where she would no doubt be the youngest person there. However, she could never say no to her father, and after eating a Caesar salad and a side of fries for an early dinner, she and her mother went out for a mani-pedi before getting their hair done at Chez Pink.

  “I know you need to update your wardrobe, sweetie,” her mother had said. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

  Reese managed to find the perfect outfit: a pink-halter dress that wasn’t too short and showed off her curves while still remaining conservative. As cliché as it sounded, it was her favorite color, and if she had to spend her Friday night with droll rich people, she could at least look good while doing so.

  The party was being thrown by Jack Phillip, Daddy’s new boss and “close, personal acquaintance”. As her father drove, he explained that no one knew much about Jack Phillip except that he graduated from Harvard Business School at twenty years old, and before that, went to boarding school in Wales. His parents were incredibly wealthy, owning a slew of successful businesses. When Jack was attending his last year at Harvard, they were killed in an accident—something no one knew the details to—which left him with no family except for his paternal aunt, Beverly Phillip.

  It was she who talked Jack—sole heir to the family fortune and to the CEO position of Phillip Enterprises—to move to Onyx and run his business there. While he finished college, Beverly settled them in the city so by the time Jack graduated and was ready to take over, everything was ready for him. He was an instant celebrity and Onyx’s most eligible bachelor, what with his exuberant wealth and good looks.

  “Always in the tabloids, darling,” Reese’s mother put in. “Always with a new girl. Bram, you should introduce Reese to him. What a match they’d make! And she’s much more beautiful than those brainless twits he’s always with.”

  “Mom, we’re not in the Victorian era,” Reese said with a roll of her eyes, “and I’m still in high school.” This wasn’t the first time her mother had tried to set her up with someone she deemed suitable. During one of her set ups, Reese had broken a nail socking the guy in the face after he grabbed her boob parking at her home on their first date. As if.

  “Darling, a four year age difference is nothing,” she said.

  Reese knew that tone: Mommy was set on this and Reese wouldn’t be able to stop her.

  Reese was unperturbed by the big house and the fancy food. She was introduced to Jack Phillip, who seemed nice enough and was definitely good looking. His lips quirked up when he saw her dress—apparently she was the only one who decided to wear color (she didn’t think her mother’s red pumps counted)—which at least added depth to the man, but he just wasn’t her type. Back in California, she had seen plenty of guys just like him and she always ended up bored after a few weeks. It also might have had to do with the fact that his date—“An up and coming supermodel,” her mother had whispered—was glaring daggers at her, and Jack barely acknowledged his date’s presence.

  When Reese spotted Andie as she slipped onto the balcony, she all but ran to follow her new friend, looking for any excuse to take a break from the stuffiness of the room. It wasn’t as nice as she had hoped it would be, but Reese couldn’t exactly blame Andie. She knew what people thought when they saw her. In fact, all the guests at this party gave her odd looks or a critical eyebrow without talking to Reese themselves. All she could do was force a smile and keep her chin up, pretending no one was getting to her and that she was perfectly happy.

  Would it be wrong to wish that she was still in the coma?

  After heading back into the ballroom where the party took place, she planned to explore the mansion, but her father waved her over.

  “Reese, darling, this is Onyx’s District Attorney Lucas Burr,” her mother introduced once Reese reached her parents. “His wife Helen, and their son, Gabe. I think Gabe here actually goes to your school, sweetie.”

  Reese had to blink twice before she was comfortable with the fact that the family before her was really this devastatingly beautiful and it wasn’t all a trick of the imagination. Lucas Burr was exactly six foot with broad shoulders, a stocky build, and steely blue eyes. He had short, dusty red hair combed to the side and a cleft in his chin. Helen was nearly as tall as her husband in heels with her long, white-blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, big brown eyes, and a stick-straight body. Gabe inherited his parents’ good looks and none of their flaws. He was taller than his father by an inch, maybe two inches, had short blonde hair styled the same way as his father’s, and his father’s unnerving eyes. He was probably the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and the smirk on his lips said that he knew it too.

  “Come, come, why don’t we let the kids get to know each other better,” Reese’s mother said, her eyes twinkling as she proceeded to lead the others away.

  “Have you seen Phillip’s library?” Gabe asked her in a soft, low voice, perfect for whispering fatal threats and sweet nothings. “It’s the next room over. I highly doubt anyone is in there right now.”

  Reese rolled her eyes at the obvious attempt to get her alone, but anything was better than being here, and she loved exploring libraries. She followed him out of the ballroom and down a long hallway. They made a left and then walked into the first room on the right. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of stacks upon stacks of a variety of books, many of them first-edition hardcovers of classics, out-of-print, and unpublished novels, stories, poetry, and the like. There was a leather couch in the middle of the room, a small stand on either side with a small reading lamp on each one. The only other piece of furniture in the vast room was a large oak desk with papers strewn across it, located at the far end of the room. It was close to an entrance that appeared to be attached to a study, the door half-open. From Reese’s vantage point, there didn’t seem to be anybody in it.

  “Reese?” His voice interrupted her inner musings, and she remembered with disappointment that she wasn’t alone. “That’s an interesting name.”

  “Yeah, it means enthusiasm,” she murmured. Her insides churned, and she knew it had to do with this guy. She couldn’t tell if they were butterflies or a warning.

  “I love your dress,” he continued. “Bold. Different. No one here would dream of wearing it.”

  Reese was caught between feeling flattered at his compliment and insulted by the way h
e used the dress as an excuse to stare at her chest. All Reese could think to do was cross her arms and give him a look that indicated she knew what he was doing and she was having none of it. “Yeah, I got that with the looks people were giving me,” she said.

  “They’re just jealous.” He said it in a firm tone, like it was a fact rather than an opinion. “They couldn’t pull it off the way you do.”

  “Look,” Reese said, deciding to go with her stomach giving her a warning rather than butterflies, “I’m not quite sure what your game is or what you want from me, but I’m getting sick of the incessant flattery.”

  “Beautiful and smart, a deadly combination.” She could hear the smirk in his words.

  “Does that ever work?” she asked.

  “Usually, yes.” His eyes sparkled. “It’s interesting that it’s not working on you. Hmm.” A pause. “I’m going to make you sway, of course.”

  Before Reese could respond, she heard soft footsteps on the tile. She turned back to the study and saw Jack Phillip pacing. He didn’t seem to notice them, not yet anyway, and judging by his hushed voice, he was talking to someone. Without warning, Gabe pulled Reese toward a particular bookshelf so they were hidden from view but could still see what was going on. He pressed his chest against her back, and even though she was standing up to her full height, he was crouching over her, his chin barely grazing her shoulder. She was surprised how warm he was.

  Her attention immediately snapped back to the study when she saw a familiar figure. Short—especially when compared to Jack and Gabe—slight, but with an air that commanded attention. Feathered brown hair, a long nose that curved to the left as though it had been broken before, dimples, and those bottomless eyes.