Rather than waste time brushing my teeth, I squeezed a pea-sized drop of toothpaste onto a finger and shoved it in my mouth. I worked it around with my tongue while I pulled on my uniform. I put jeans under the skirt. It would make changing faster.
No time to comb my hair. Though I doubted anyone would notice the difference.
I flew down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Butch was parked across the street, his enormous head propped against the glass of his car’s window, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. I didn’t have to hear him to know he was snoring like a beast.
I considered rapping on his window to wake him—he should have to suffer if he was going to tail me—but I figured he would hear my junker of a car start up, so I let him be. At the top of the street, I cast a glance into my rear-view mirror and saw he was still conked out.
It figured. The first time I had complete freedom from the creeps, and I was heading into my glamorous job.
Because I was unescorted, I took a little detour. It had been a few days since I’d checked on the SUV to make sure no one had smashed in the windows or stolen the tires. A quick pass now would save me a sneak-out that evening.
I turned down the street and almost immediately screeched to a halt.
Someone had stolen the tires, alright.
And everything on top of them.
The space the SUV had occupied was inconceivably empty, a black hole I couldn’t wrap my mind around no matter how long I sat there blinking at it. The spacing of the cars on either side suggested it hadn’t been gone long at all.
I popped my car into park and got out, stunned. There weren’t any telltale piles of shattered glass on the ground. I walked over to where the truck had been and turned in a circle, hoping I’d parked in a different spot but had forgotten. Then I checked the parking signs; sometimes the county changed the zoning with no notice. They were the same. I was actually hoping it had been towed… though I had no proof that the truck was mine, so I wouldn’t have been able to get it back.
Hell. It wasn’t mine.
And now it was gone.
And I was going to be late to work.
I hurried back to my car and drove away, my eyes peeled every minute of my commute in the desperate hope that I might happen across the truck, that the thieves hadn’t gotten far.
The other possibility was that Corbin had taken it. But why would he? This wasn’t like before, when I had basically ordered him to move his vehicle and he had sent someone to make it disappear.
And why now?
My eyes burned. This was punishment for having made a scene at the mountain house. Corbin was pissed.
Butch pulled up to the diner moments after I parked. He looked stressed, disheveled. Too bad he hadn’t beaten me there; that would have scared the hell out of Henry.
As I trotted inside, I worked my hair into a messy bun that I hoped looked sexy rather than unkempt. But despite the tiny bit of extra sleep and all the excitement of the day before, I suddenly felt drained. Crazy as it sounded, Corbin’s SUV had been a companion to me. It was my final remaining link to him. Proof that he had existed, that we had been close.
Now it was gone, and I felt like someone had died. Corbin had taken away the last thing that connected us to each other.
“Are you ok?” Janet asked when she saw my face.
“Not feeling well,” I said. “I think I have a migraine coming on.” The clock over Janet’s shoulder showed less than two minutes to the start of my shift, and since I hadn’t done my prep the day before, I was already late.
I licked my lips. “If I’m not feeling better in an hour or so, maybe I should go home.”
Janet pressed the back of her hand to my forehead, and I caught a whiff of perfume that made me think of lace doilies and china teapots.
“No fever. Of course I can’t force you to work if you’re sick,” she said, following me into the kitchen, “but as migraines aren’t contagious, I do hope you’re able to finish out your shift.”
“Shifts,” I corrected wearily, because I was scheduled for a double. I grabbed my notebook and started writing down the daily specials.
Janet cocked her head. “Uniform, Audrey.”
“Sorry.” I rushed into the bathroom to take off my jeans.
Luckily for me, it was a slow morning, and when a crack of thunder made the customers jolt in their seats, I knew why people were hunkered down elsewhere. End-of-winter storms could be brutal. Flash flooding. Drenching downpours. Hail bombarding anyone stupid enough to venture outside. Lightning strikes. You didn’t go out unless you had to.
Weirdly, I found myself hoping the SUV was ok, that Corbin or one of his friends had taken it to a warm, dry garage, and it was having a nice break. Getting an oil change or a tuneup, the equivalent of a car spa vacation.
Anything to avoid thinking about Corbin himself.
At the beginning of my second shift, the storms turned violent and showed no sign of easing up. The darkness wasn’t helping; all the sleepless nights had caught up with me, and several times I found myself staring at notes I’d taken moments earlier without any recollection of having written them.
Despite that, one elderly lady told me in a raucous voice that I was “the best waitress in the joint.”
After her grandson took her home, there were only two people in the diner who weren’t employees. The other servers stood gossiping in little groups. I gazed out the huge glass windows, watching wind assault the trees. In the distance, jagged lightning forked across the sky.
“You can go,” Janet said.
I stared at her, trying to figure out what I’d done that had finally forced her to can me. Oh well. At least I’d be back bounty hunting soon.
“You look terrible,” she said. “Do you think you’ll be feeling better tomorrow?” she asked.
Relieved, I nodded, but I didn’t smile. Best to keep looking sick until I was out of sight. It wasn’t very difficult.
I changed quickly, then drove straight home, managing to pull onto Rob’s street during a gray, drizzling lull between the violent storms. I grabbed my coat out of the back seat; I hadn’t bothered with it when leaving the diner.
As soon as I got upstairs, I was going to sleep for three days.
Butch pulled into a parking space across the street, and I wondered what Henry was up to. He’d probably be by in a few hours. Lately it seemed to be either Butch or Henry. The others had probably rebelled, tired of following someone so boring.
Maybe Butch would get fed up, too. While I suspected Butch was too entrenched in Henry’s schemes to ever walk away, it would be fun watching Henry try to shadow me 24/7 while also micromanaging everything at Stroop Finders. Of course, after Dad got rid of him, Henry would have nothing to do but torment me. I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. After everything he’d put me through, I’d reached my limit, and once I got some dirt on him, he would have to move to the other side of the planet.
I kicked off my damp shoes without bothering to untie them. It took the rest of my energy to heave my weary bones up the stairs. Every time I blinked, it was like I’d momentarily fallen asleep. This was the most exhausted I’d ever been in my life.
I stared at my coat, which was still in my hand. Rather than walk all the way back down the steps to hang it up, I halfheartedly tossed it at a dining room chair. Unfortunately, I didn’t get up enough momentum before letting go, and it landed on the floor.
I might have left it, but after spending so much time cleaning up for Veronica, I was determined to keep things orderly. I leaned over, grabbed it, gave it another toss. It landed halfway on a chair.
“That’s impressively lazy. I hope you don’t treat the coat I gave you that way.”
I straightened, a terrified rush of adrenaline waking me right up. Corbin was sitting on the recliner in the corner, his hands crossed over his middle. I couldn’t quite see his face; it was so dark outside, and with the curtains mostly drawn against the intrusive stares of Henry and his merr
y band of stalkers, the whole floor was covered in layers of overlapping shadow.
But no one in the world had a voice like Corbin’s. And not many other people would break into someone’s brother’s house and announce themselves via housecleaning criticisms.
Even after I identified him, my pulse showed no signs of slowing. My mouth went so dry that I was unable to speak.
Corbin rose slowly and came toward me, stopping several feet away. Lots of personal space there. Which only proved he’d been avoiding me because it was over. I didn’t even want to think about how sinfully hot he looked in his checkered black flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled back, the top buttons undone, yielding a glimpse of his brawny chest. His jeans were tight, and even with a casual glance, I could distinguish the bulge of his large, sleeping cock. His hair was longer than before, reaching his jaw. Mostly he looked the same but… different, in an intangible way.
My fear and surprise immediately turned into anger. “What the hell are you doing in here?” I snapped.
“Came to see you,” he said. His voice was clipped.
“Figured you weren’t waiting for Rob.” I crossed my arms defensively over my chest. “What do you want, Corbin?” My words, oh, they sounded so calm. So even. Not at all betraying that I very well might keel over at any second.
He took two steps to the side and swiped his hand up a wall, turning on the overhead lights. Me, I took a step back because Corbin seemed… a little on edge, to put it mildly.
Thunder crashed at the same moment that a blinding flash of light blazed outside, momentarily searing my retinas.
“Why didn’t you come?” Corbin asked. “Why didn’t you respond at least?”
I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he’d been trying to get in touch with me all this time. “You couldn’t tell the phone was dead? I had to—”
“I know about the phone. I’m referring to the note I left, asking you to meet me.”
“What note?” I asked.
He frowned, confused by my confusion. “The note you took from the cabin. You should have replied if you weren’t going to make it. When it was gone, I assumed you were telling me you would be there. Or are you going to claim someone broke in and that’s the only thing they stole?”
I blinked, then clumsily turned, intending to fetch the dark gray raincoat from my bedroom and the crumpled note in the pocket.
Corbin caught my arm, pulled me back to face him. “Don’t walk away from me, Audrey. Things change. I get that. Things have changed for me, too.”
That last sentence interrupted my very good explanation for why I hadn’t responded. “What changed for you?” It came out rather meanly, and I winced. I really had internalized my dad’s way of talking to people when upset. It was a terrible habit, and I needed to break it.
“Everything changed,” Corbin said. “I was going to tell you last night.” He released me, took another step back, way out of my personal space.
There might have been a mixup about the note, about meeting him, but the way he was acting, there was no misinterpreting that… or his words.
My eyes searched his, looking for even a small sign that he still wanted to be with me. After a moment, I had to conclude that he did not. If he had, he would have said so. Would have pulled me into his arms and kissed me instead of staying far away like he thought I was contagious.
“Can I assume you took your truck?”
He nodded. Then I nodded. “Good. I was worried it had gotten stolen and that I would have to scrape together fifty grand for a new one.”
“It cost twice that,” he said.
“Anyone ever tell you that you overpay for things?”
“Why didn’t you come?” he asked.
“What? Your male pride keeping you up at night because the woman you deserted didn’t come running the moment you snapped your fingers?”
He frowned. “That’s not an answer.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t see your note.”
“Then where is it?”
“In my coat. I balled it up. I hadn’t turned on the lights, and I’d thought it was the one I left you.”
“It was, but I left a message on the other side,” Corbin said. He seemed stunned that there was such a simple explanation.
My anger ticked up a notch. Sure, he was relieved, but he was only concerned with the last day, whereas I was pissed about the last two months.
The hardness in his eyes softened slightly. “I panicked when you didn’t show up. Thought something might have happened.”
“Yeah, it sucks. Waiting. Doesn’t it?” Oh, that was so not the direction I’d meant to go. It was like my dad had somehow slipped into my head and was controlling this conversation.
On the other hand, Corbin deserved every bit of my anger. I pointed a finger at him. “You.” I jabbed it into his chest, which wasn’t easy when he seemed so very intent at not getting close to me. “You let me down.”
“I’m sorry. Things became very complicated after I left.”
“I figured. But you know what would have been nice? If you’d told me that things changed instead of leaving me to figure it out on my own. And speaking of things that suck, you wanna know what really blew? That you let it drag on for so long. Even an impersonal email would have been better than saying absolutely nothing. You, Corbin… you act like you’re nice. But you’re not. You’re polite, but that’s not the same thing as nice.”
His face was impassive, and he made no move to defend himself.
That was fine by me. I had plenty more to say.
“You came into my life, and you said all the perfect things, and you acted like you cared.”
“I do care,” he said.
“But not the way you let me think. You told me I was safe with you, and then you weren’t here.”
“I’m sorry, Audrey,” he said. “I did my best to protect you, but—”
“I’m not talking about that!” I screamed. Now that things had “changed” for him, there wasn’t any point in trying to hold it together.
And anyway, I was so tired… I felt dissociated from myself. Like I was watching a crazy woman say all the wrong things. I knew exhaustion and frustration and the shock of seeing Corbin might be making me reckless, but I’d had enough.
“You act like I’m this needy woman. I’m not. I told you how I felt, and all you had to say was that you didn’t feel the same way, but instead you said nothing, vanished for two months. You’re a fucking coward.”
Corbin nodded, his expression cold. There was a weariness etched around his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re right,” he said. “I thought it would be easier to have that talk after I returned, but apparently I only made things more difficult for both of us.”
“Sorry that my emotions make your life difficult,” I spat. “Fuck, I’m tired. I don’t want to have this conversation now. Really, a text would have been fine. A note shoved under the door. Anything. You should have cut me free a long time ago. You should have let me get on with my life.”
“But I don’t want to let you go,” he said, stopping my heart. Then he added, loudly enough that I couldn’t talk over him, “Not then and not now. You knew my situation. You knew I didn’t have control over every aspect of my life—”
“You have control when you want it!” I yelled. I couldn’t believe he was using that excuse.
“Where were you last night?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“Getting drunk,” I said.
“Who with?”
“A hot guy who lives in another town,” I said, knowing it was wrong even as the words left my lips. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Corbin blinked, looking as if I had slapped him.
“I don’t see why you care,” I said, feeling guilty. Sure, I was pissed at him—beyond pissed—but there wasn’t any need to be cruel. Still, I couldn’t stop. That ocean of hurt and anger was spilling out now and couldn’t be contained. “You had your chan
ce, and you threw it away.”
“Is that what you think?”
I pressed my lips together and glared at him. “Well, you sure as fuck weren’t here. All you had to do was show up every once in a while. You knew where I was living, you had every chance to get in touch. I wasn’t asking for the world, Corbin. You said you’d be gone a month. You said you’d be in touch. Did you really think I was gonna wait around forever?”
“If I could have been back in a month, I would have,” he thundered.
I froze, terrified. Corbin never raised his voice.
He wasn’t the same as before, I realized suddenly. The subtle difference in him… it wasn’t physical. Whatever had happened since we’d last met must have been terrible. What could unsettle someone as steady as Corbin?
I opened my mouth to apologize, but Corbin cut me off. “Don’t you know me at all?” Even though his chosen words were gentle, his tone was harsh. Cold.
“I came back for you, Audrey. With apologies to your new boyfriend—” He crossed the emotionally charged space that separated us.
He kissed me.
Oh, his soft lips woke every nerve ending in my body.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. There was nothing loving about it. This was the kiss of a horny man. Someone who wanted to fuck me. My body responded to his desire; despite my anger and my feelings of abandonment and my fear of his anger, I wanted him more than ever.
He tasted of coffee and peppermint, and he smelled different than before. A new aftershave, or maybe he’d splashed on some cologne—trying to make a good impression on me? It was faint, though, like he’d put it on the night before.
His tongue swept deeper, and he tightened his hold on my face. His whole body seemed to tremble with barely controlled energy. He wasn’t just horny… he was desperately horny.
There was an urgent growling coming from his throat as he walked me backward, still kissing me greedily. I hit the wall, but that didn’t stop him from continuing forward, like he was trying to press into me, trying to envelop me within him, wrap us up together. His hips thrust hard against mine, and I pushed back, painfully aware of my own sexually neglected state.
Seduced by a Dangerous Man Page 10