My head swam and I found Lucian falling out of focus, just like the rest of my surroundings. I hadn’t quite figured out where I was, nothing beyond Lucian registered on any of my senses. Maybe it was all a dream? Where had I been before—wait—Dorothy— That’s right. Dorothy’s body had been found in my apartment. I must have passed out or fallen asleep. I—
“Tiffany? Tiffany, wake up,” Moretti’s baritone voice curled around me, yanking me back to reality.
I blinked open startled eyes to realize I was sitting on my couch, in my apartment—not with Lucian. In front of me was Moretti, his face pinched with concern, and his large warm hand lying idly on my blanket covered knee. I darted my gaze behind him to see a bevy of men doing official police business type stuff. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, pressing my palms into my eyes and rubbing. “I’m just so tired.”
Moretti stood and peered down at me with pity. “I’m going to have to take you down to the station. Do you want me to bring you a change of clothes?”
I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself and tried to ignore the curious and suspicious eyes that kept roaming over me. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot…” That’s when it hit me. “Umm—wait—what do you mean you have to take me down to the station?” It felt like someone had just dropped a brick in my stomach. “I’m not a suspect, am I?” There was way too much circumstantial evidence to link Dorothy to me for my taste. I’d dealt with being questioned before but never had anything concrete linking me to any of my dirty deeds. Oh the irony that I could end up with jail time for something I didn’t do.
Ignoring my question, Moretti leaned down closer to me again. “Let me grab you a change of clothes. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the crime scene, and I get the clothes for you, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
I ground my teeth together. “Yeah, just get me some jeans, t-shirt, a bra—and shoes and socks.” How was I going to explain that all of my stuff, like ID, was still back in my locker at Club Elite? How was I going to explain anything? Shit. Was I going to need a lawyer?
Lucian wasn’t a figment of my imagination or part of a dream. He was a nightmare.
8
Lucian is playing head games with me, the thought hit me like a sudden revelation. A painfully obvious one, I internally screamed at myself. He’d gone as far as to admit that he wanted to make me better, whatever that meant. It looked like he’d already begun with his twisted plan. He was testing me, pushing me—trying to see how far I would bend before I would break. Why does this all feel so eerily familiar somehow? Something is horribly wrong. I snorted. Right. Because my life was normal before Lucian entered the picture.
“Tiffany, you all right back there?” Moretti glanced in his rearview mirror at me in the back seat of his police car.
“Just peachy,” I grumbled. “So why don’t you have a partner? I thought that guy who was with you at Club Elite was him, maybe? But you always seem to be by yourself.”
“I’m—” He cleared his throat. “I’m in between partners at the moment, and since we’re short staffed I’ve been on my own.”
“Isn’t that like dangerous or some shit?” I was always on my own and I liked it that way, but wasn’t it required for cops to have partners? Not that I knew what I was talking about, not really. I worked outside of the law and I only knew enough about it to try and keep myself out of trouble.
“I’m not supposed to respond to certain calls until I have a new partner.” Moretti shifted in his seat uncomfortably. I could tell that the subject was a touchy one.
“That why you’ve been lurking around me? Because you have nothing better to do?”
Moretti heaved a huge sigh. “My job, and me for that matter, is none of your business. Besides, you should be worrying about you right now.”
I shrugged and slouched down in my seat. “I didn’t do anything wrong so I have nothing to worry about.” I hoped. My gut roiled with anxiety. I, of all people, knew that guilt wasn’t a requirement to get busted.
I glanced out the window as the car slowed down and then stopped. We had arrived. I’d been detained before, but this would be my first time in the Pittsburgh Police Station. It was bigger than I expected. And cleaner. Just something about Pittsburgh left everything with a dirty feel. Guess that’s why it was part of what was known as the rust belt. It was like dirt and grime clung to everything, even the people. If I made it out in one piece I was heading off to do my thing in a nicer place. Who said I had to take down scum in a dark, almost gothic type setting? I wasn’t Batman and Pittsburgh most definitely was not Gotham.
Moretti pulled the door open and helped me out of the back of the car. My hands were cuffed but in the front, at least he’d been nice about it. “I won’t be the one to question you,” he said as he guided me into the station. “I’m not sure who pulled the case but one of the detectives who are on it will be questioning you. I’m just going to—”
“Am I being booked?”
“You’re the only suspect, Tiffany. I’m sorry.” Moretti averted his gaze as if it was his fault somehow.
“So I’m being arrested and not merely questioned?”
“Depending on how things go, they might let you out on bail, but—”
“I won’t be able to leave the city.” Fuuuuuck. Lucian was really putting a kink in my style. Was he hoping if he took away my game that I’d be happy to play with him in his? He was in for a rude awakening if that’s what he thought. I wasn’t that easily manipulated and I wasn’t above cutting my nose off to spite my face just to win.
“Just wait here.” Moretti led me into one of those stereotypical rooms you might see on TV. Sterile, plain—one table, two chairs, large mirror that dominated the wall. I mean…come on. Was there anyone in this modern age that didn’t know that it was a two-way mirror? Why even bother at this point? Why not just step in the room and join us?
Still in cuffs, Moretti left me in the room alone, shutting the door behind him. I immediately stood and marched over to the mirror. I tugged at my t-shirt, adjusting the view of my tits before I blatantly caressed them. I wanted to get under the skin of whoever was behind that glass. I could almost sense their gaze burning into me. I ran my hands down my stomach and around to my ass on the one side since I couldn’t separate my hands more than a few inches. I spun around and smacked my own ass, grinning and biting my lower lip. Before I could do anything else more provocative the door swung open. Damn, just when I was starting to have fun.
In strode a middle-aged man, late forties to early fifties, if I had to guess. His full head of thick hair was almost all silver except for a few streaks of dark brown. His amber colored gazed narrowed on me as I continued to study him. He was average height, still taller than me by a few inches, wearing grey slacks, white shirt, and a loose tie. He looked like a detective from a cop show…like one of the CSIs or some shit. He was attractive but not overly so. I found myself wondering how easy it would be to work him over.
“Oh, hi there…officer? Detective?” I delivered him a coquettish smile as I moved towards the small table.
“Detective Anthony,” he responded briskly. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair in front of me, which I was about to sit on, until he’d ordered me to.
I cocked my hip and leaned against the table. “I’m good standing.”
“Have a seat.” His tone was both exasperated and commanding. I warred with whether or not I wanted to play ball with him. A part of me—the stubborn part didn’t want to cooperate about anything, even something as small as taking a seat. But the more logical aka mature side of me knew things would go a lot smoother if I just complied.
I heaved a huge sigh and plopped demonstratively down. “Happy?” I couldn’t help but snap. I was being an idiot and I knew it. I needed to curb my sarcastic stubborn side just long enough to get out of trouble.
“I’m going to get straight to the point,” the detective rumbled. “There are several witnesses that place you at the same hotel where the vi
ctim was staying. Officer Moretti himself admits to having picked you up in a confused state right outside of the hotel earlier this evening. The—”
“I didn’t do it,” I interjected.
The detective pinched the bridge of his nose and averted his gaze. “Honestly, I really don’t think you did. The timeline doesn’t add up. It was obvious the victim was killed in her hotel room. I don’t see how you could have gotten her all the way to your apartment without being seen. There are so many things that just don’t add up.” He stood and started pacing. “I’m hoping you have some information.”
“I—I don’t—” Shit. I didn’t know what to say. I started thinking up and discarding possible lies that could explain in a plausible way what happened.
“—was she a client?”
I’d missed the first part of what the detective had said, but the last part grabbed my full attention. “What? You mean at Club Elite?”
“No,” he ran his hand through his hair as he slid back into his seat, catching my gaze with his. “I mean, did she pay you for sex? Was she a client? Is that why you’re reluctant to—”
I stood abruptly, toppling my chair to the ground. “No! I’m not a fucking prostitute!” I pieced it all together quickly. My presence at the hotel, coupled with my attire… shit. I could see why he’d connected the dots the way he had.
“I won’t book you for solicitation under the circumstances. I just want answers,” he droned on. “Please work with me on this. If you don’t cooperate then I’m going to have to let you cool your jets in jail until you change your mind.”
Cool your jets? Who says that anymore? I slammed my fists down on the table, the edge of the cuffs biting into my wrists painfully. “I’m not a prostitute. Since when does being an exotic dancer automatically translate to that?”
We stared at each other a moment, neither one of us speaking. Slowly Detective Anthony’s eyebrows raised. “Someone will be in shortly to take you to get booked.” He stood and stalked to the door. It looked like he’d read in my eyes that I wasn’t going to cave. The problem was that I couldn’t since the truth was beyond unbelievable. Maybe I should spend my time in jail thinking up a somewhat plausible story. Could I just lie and say I was a prostitute? The very thought pissed me off. It was possibly my only way out of the mess Lucian had put me in.
I dropped my forehead to the table. “Pride goeth before a fall,” I muttered to myself. It looked like I was about to become a prostitute as far as everyone was concerned.
9
I was beyond pissed. A word didn’t even exist for how beyond pissed I was. I had been pumping myself up to make the false prostitute confession so I could walk free but after I was booked no one came to see me. Not a single soul. I figured someone would have been sent to ask me again to cooperate after Detective Anthony’s effort to scare me. Nope. Instead, after I was booked I was left to stew alone in a holding cell.
It didn’t make sense. If I was booked, wasn’t I supposed to be put in with general population and given a uniform or something? But what did I know, the only information I thought I knew about that kind of stuff had been garnered from TV. So basically I had no clue what was going on. The not knowing part was worse than anything they could do to me, which was probably the point. I was cold and tired, and I just wanted to go—where? I didn’t have anywhere to go. I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep in a bed where a dead body had been marinating in the sheets.
“You can stay with me. You’re always welcome in my bed.” Lucian’s smooth baritone sliced through the silence.
My heart jumped into my throat but I quickly regained my composure. I turned to glare at my golden god tormentor. He was standing just inside the cell, leaning against the bars with his arms crossed casually, as if our current situation was completely normal. He had on another tailored-to-perfection suit, this one a dark navy with wide pinstripes. His chiseled features were passive despite the glimmer of amusement in his cerulean gaze.
“You’re the one who got me in here in the first place,” I growled. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he’d commented on something that I’d been thinking, not commenting about out loud. Could he read my mind, or was he just really good at guessing since he knew about the dead body?
Lucian shrugged nonchalantly. “And now I’m offering to get you out.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” I fought the urge to walk over to him so I could slap his arrogant, yet beautiful face. I had a feeling the act would be completely satisfying but it definitely wouldn’t help my case with Lucian. I settled on glowering my displeasure instead.
“I changed my mind.” He pushed off the bars with his shoulder and stood tall, his presence taking up more space in the room than it had a moment before. “I don’t want you to fuck anyone else. I find…” His voice trailed off as he seemed to pick at some imaginary lint on his suit. “Yes, I was jealous. The thought of you with someone else made me jealous. It’s not an emotion that I enjoy, nor am I accustomed to feeling it.”
“Okaaaay,” I drawled. Then it hit me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I exclaimed as I lurched to my feet. “You let me be put in here so I can’t fuck anyone else.” But how? The body had already been found in my apartment and things had been under way— I tugged at my hair in agitation. “You were one of the witnesses, weren’t you?” Wow. Why hadn’t I put that puzzle together before? It was painfully obvious and it just served to prove how off my game Lucian caused me to be. He frazzled and confused me…fogged my brain completely. Turned me into a complete fool.
My mouth dropped open as his lips tipped up with amusement. “Bingo.” He moved towards me as I backed up. I didn’t have very much room to maneuver and before I realized what was happening, I’d toppled over onto the small cot. Lucian loomed over me, a smug smile adorning his face.
“What do you want from me?”
He reached his hand out for me, palm up. “Come. I want to show you something.”
“Fuck, no.” I shook my head fervently. “The last time you ‘showed me’ something—” I air quoted. “—somehow I ended up with a dead body in my bed. Thanks for that by the way.” I delivered him my best death glare.
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t run from me.” He kept his hand thrust out in open offering for me to take it.
“Where did you come from? How do you know about me? Just—” I clamped my mouth shut in frustration. I had too many questions and from the bemused expression on Lucian’s face, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting answers anytime soon. “And if I don’t want to come with you?”
“Then you stay here…indefinitely.”
I ground my teeth together. It wasn’t much of a choice, was it? Lucian’s ability had to lie somewhere in mind manipulation. How else could he be controlling everything the way he was? “You’ve painted me into a corner, haven’t you?”
“I’m giving you a choice. I’ve always been a fan of free will.”
“Giving me two shitty choices isn’t really free will. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
Lucian’s expression shuttered off and his eyes darkened to appear almost black, which I knew had to be a trick of the lighting. “You don’t know the definition of damned.” His hand shook as he closed it into a fist and withdrew his arm. “You’d be wise not to push me beyond my limits, little girl.”
Oh no he didn’t! Little girl? Really? “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling little girl?”
In a flash Lucian had his hands threaded into my hair, his face a scant distance away from mine. My breath hitched as I took in his delectable scent, despite the situation. I’d only known him for a short time and it seemed like every encounter with us was that way— My body reacted to him no matter what else was going on. My body is a traitor to my mind.
“Maybe I’ve misjudged the timing of things. Maybe you’re not ready for me at all. Because only a little girl would say such words about things she has no understanding of.”
The way Lucian’s lips tipped up into a malevolent sneer made me instantly regret spurring him on. He would relish the challenge of showing me what I didn’t understand. After all, he seemed to be all about showing me stuff to begin with. Was a part of me spoiling for a confrontation? Probably. The problem was that I didn’t know quite what I was dealing with when it came to Lucian. So basically I was acting the fool with him…again. It was quickly becoming a habit for me when it came to all things Lucian—one that I needed to break immediately.
“You already know you made a mistake, don’t you? You sense it. I can see it in your eyes.” He moved closer to me, drawing his right index finger across my eyebrow to hover on my temple. “And what beautiful eyes they are. They see so much—and yet not enough. Never enough.”
He lunged forward so quickly I didn’t see him move. It was as if I blinked and suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, his hot breath fanning across my face. And then I had the distinct feeling of falling, my stomach dropping like I was on a roller coaster. I grabbed on to Lucian out of instinct, his face the only thing I could see as things blurred around us. I choked back a scream, the air catching in my throat. A roaring sound was the only thing I could hear. I was attempting to climb Lucian like a tree, to hang onto him for dear life, when everything stopped and I was thrown into pitch-blackness.
Lucian’s hands fell away from me and I scrambled after him, or in the direction I thought he’d gone. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out to him, some thread of stubbornness rearing its ugly head. He didn’t want to hurt me. He didn’t bring me here, wherever it was, to hurt me. I was safe. He was just fucking with my mind, like he had been since the moment I’d met him.
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