Sinful Illusions

by Morgan James

  He missed a step as his gaze landed on me, his eyes widening with recognition and wariness. “Fox. I—”

  Fisting the front of his shirt, I pushed him around the corner until we were concealed, then shoved him up against the wall. “Where is she?”

  “W-who?”

  “Don’t play fucking stupid,” I warned him. “Tell me now.”

  “Toward the library.” He pointed with one shaking finger. “Take a left down the hallway.”

  “You tell her anything?”

  He shook his head rapidly. “N-no.”

  I could see the lie in his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “I should have cut your fucking tongue out last time. What kind of man begs for his own life, yet sacrifices his daughter’s?”

  I would never regret the deal I’d made with William, because it had brought Eva into my life. But if she found out he’d practically sold her to me… she would be crushed. I didn’t have time to waste. I released him. “Get Masterson and get the fuck out of here.”

  Without waiting for a response, I took off down the hallway, picking up my pace. I checked the hallway and the library but both were empty. My heart slammed against my ribs as I ran from room to room in search of Eva.

  At the back of the house, I saw a set of French doors that led to a terrace, and I flung them open. Overhead, rain fell in a dreary drizzle, soaking the flagstones. To my right, Rodrigo stood beneath the overhang, dragging on a cigarette. He pushed away from the wall, his head tipped to one side as he inspected me. I pointed at him. “Have you seen Eva?”

  “Not for about ten minutes,” he confirmed, flicking ash on the wet ground before stubbing out the cigarette in a potted plant.

  I raked one hand through my hair as I spun in a circle. Where the fuck could she be? “We need to find her,” I said to him. “Get the car and—”

  “Boss.” His dark eyes met mine. “Maybe we should let her—”

  “Don’t you fucking say it!” I roared, shoving against his chest. “I need to find her.”

  He gave his head a slow shake. “She’s gone.”

  Ice settled in my bones as I watched him. “What are you talking about?”

  “She left through the garden about ten minutes ago.”

  Rage simmered beneath the surface. “You let her go?”

  “You haven’t been the same since she showed up,” he said stubbornly. “It’s for the best.”

  I straightened. “You think you can make decisions for me?”

  “Boss, I—”

  His words cut off as my fist collided with his jaw, snapping his head back. He stumbled backward and collapsed onto the pavestones. Lunging forward, I grabbed the front of his shirt and drove my fist into his face over and over until he slumped to the ground, wheezing, shallow breaths leaving his chest. I slapped the side of his face, but he didn’t respond. Fury exploded outward, and I dropped him again, not caring that his head slammed into the hard stones beneath us.

  I peeled one eyelid back and waited for his pupil to focus on me. “You’ll find her, or I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand me?”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Eva

  My eyes popped open as someone gently shook me awake.

  “We’re here.”

  Sitting straight up, I glanced around, disoriented, before my gaze landed on Joe in the driver seat. The events of last night came rushing back, slamming into me in rapid succession. The pain. The betrayal. I felt cold all over, completely numb and devoid of emotion.

  My gaze skated over the small plaza across from us. “Where are we?”

  “Just outside of Omaha.”

  I threw a tiny smile Joe’s way. “Thank you for doing this, I said softly. “If you write down your address, I promise I’ll send some money—”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You just take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll try.” Resting my hand on the door handle, I turned back to look at him one last time. “Most people wouldn’t have done this… Picking up a stranger, then driving them halfway across the US.”

  The corners of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “It was only a couple states.”

  “You know what I mean. I just… Thank you. For everything.”

  He nodded. “Glad I could help. You know,” he said hesitantly, “the past has a way of catching up with us. Sometimes it’s better to face it head on and lay your demons to rest.”

  I studied him for a long moment. From the shrewd look in his eyes, I had a distinct feeling that he was speaking from experience. After everything that happened between Fox and me, though, I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready to revisit it. “Sometimes,” I returned quietly, “it’s best to leave skeletons in the closet where they belong.”

  He gave a little nod. “You just be careful.”

  “I appreciate it.” With that, I opened the door and slid from the cab, holding the hem of my skirt in one hand to keep it from riding up, my clutch in the other. I stumbled briefly as the heels of my shoes landed with a wobble on the cracked asphalt, then I turned my gaze back to Joe. “Be safe.”

  “Same to you,” he returned.

  I shut the door and stepped back, lifting a hand to wave as the truck slid into motion with the squeak of metal and hiss of steam. It was still early afternoon, and though the sun shone brightly overhead, the air was still cool, and I wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm. With no phone and no idea of who to contact at the moment, my first order of business was to get inside and get warm.

  I spied at a restaurant on the corner, its fluorescent sign blinking in the window. Almost immediately, I discarded it. I was already out of place in my cocktail dress and heels; I didn’t need to draw more attention to myself. I glanced around for a pawn shop, wondering if I could trade my eveningwear for something more appropriate. As I skimmed the names of the businesses, my eyes lit on a small hole-in-the-wall bar tucked away between a travel agency and a law office.

  Making a quick decision, I crossed the street and tugged gently on the door. Though it was still a little bit early, I hoped they would be open. I was gratified when the door swung open easily under the pressure, and I stepped inside, my gaze sweeping over the dim and mostly empty interior. A handsome man stood behind the bar drying a glass, and he lifted his chin in greeting as I made my way toward him.

  His gaze slid over me from head to toe then back up again, and he set the glass aside. “What can I get you?”

  “I’m new here,” I said as I leaned my elbows on the bar. “I was hoping you could help with something. I’m looking for a pawn shop, consignment shop, anywhere I can find a change of clothes.”

  “There’s a Salvation Army a couple of streets over. Make a right out of here, then take a right at the first intersection. It’s about two blocks down. Can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.” I tapped my fingers on the bar and took a step backwards, then paused. “Do you know if anyone is hiring around here?”

  “Maybe.” His eyes bored into mine as if trying to read me. “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything that pays,” I said honestly.

  “Can you pour drinks?”

  I stared at him, interpreting the question. “Never done it before, but it can’t be that hard.”

  He gave a little shake of his head. “Most of my clientele drinks from the tap.”

  “I could handle that.”

  “How soon can you start?”

  “Uh…” I flicked a glance around the bar. “Shouldn’t I talk to the boss?”

  He smirked and held out one hand. “Bryce Warren. Owner, operator.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Eva.” I slipped my hand into his, pulling away almost as soon as my palm came into contact with his.

  Those piercing eyes watched my every move. “What do you say we meet back here around four?”

  I drew in a breath, completely unsure of what I was about to do. “Works for me.”

&n
bsp; He reached beneath the bar, then grabbed a handful of black fabric and tossed it to me. I caught it to my chest, then slowly opened the T-shirt with the bar’s name across the chest in white. It was much too big, but I didn’t care. Dropping my gaze to the floor, unable to speak over the emotion clogging my throat, I started to turn away.

  “Hey.” The man’s voice drew me back to him. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”

  Immediately, I stiffened. “If you think you’re going to offer me a job and a bed to sleep in in exchange for sex, you can forget it.”

  “Never crossed my mind.”

  We stared at each other for nearly a minute before I finally nodded. “I could use somewhere to stay for… a while,” I finally conceded.

  “I’ve got a friend who has a duplex a couple of blocks from here. He’s been looking for somebody responsible to rent it, and I’m sure he’d love to have you.”

  “It sounds great, but I don’t have any money,” I said baldly.

  “I know,” he replied just as succinctly, his gaze sweeping over my cocktail dress again. “We’ll work it out.”

  He looked at the man sitting on the stool a few feet away. “Dale, keep an eye on the place for me, would you?”

  The man on the stool nodded, and Bryce slipped around the bar to come meet me. I gestured toward the guy on the stool, my voice low. “You’re just gonna leave him in charge of your bar?”

  Bryce smiled. “He’ll take good care of it.”

  Keeping a good amount of distance between us, he gestured toward the door, and I preceded him onto the sidewalk. The cold air hit me, and I shivered. Bryce shrugged out of his zip up sweatshirt and threw it around my shoulders. “Oh, I can’t—”

  “Come on,” he said, cutting off my protest. “We’ll take my car.”

  I started to automatically fall into step beside him, then drew to an abrupt stop. “Why are you being so nice?”

  He slowed to a stop, then turned to face me squarely. His eyes roved over me before meeting my gaze. “You show up here dressed like that, asking for a job and a place to stay. I’m guessing you don’t have anything other than the clothes on your back.” I shook my head at the rhetorical statement, and he sighed. “Sometimes you just do something nice for somebody because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Tears burned my eyes, and I fought to keep them from falling. “Thanks.”

  Bryce gave a slight dip of his chin, and I followed him around the corner to a small silver car parked along the side street. I climbed inside, and watched as Bryce slid behind the wheel then cranked the engine. He turned up the heat, then shifted into drive and pulled away from the bar. As we drove, he made a call to his friend, the one I assumed owned the duplex.

  By the time we pulled into the parking lot of the Salvation Army, he was saying goodbye to his friend. “It’s all settled,” he said as he hung up. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

  Two hours later, laden down with bags, we entered the front door of the small duplex. “Laundry room is through there,” Bryce said as he pointed down a hallway. “Do you need me to come back and pick you up?”

  I shook my head. “No, I can walk. I’d like to wash a load of clothes first, if you don’t mind.”

  Bryce nodded. “Take your time. I’ll see you at the bar later.”

  With that he was gone, and I checked the front door to make sure it was locked before heading to the laundry room. I dumped the clothes in, then added some detergent and closed the lid.

  Back in the bedroom, I kicked off my heels and settled on the edge of the mattress. The clutch on the nightstand caught my eye, and I picked it up. I flipped the clasp open and dumped the contents onto the bed. Lipstick, powder. Nothing of value or importance. A small metal object tumbled out, and I picked up the silver cuff link. Turning it over in my fingers, I let the memories of Fox rush over me. It was my last link to him, the last tie to my old life. I curled up in a ball, clutching it tightly to my chest, and let the tears fall.

  Epilogue

  Fox

  Six Weeks Later

  “Boss.”

  “What?” I couldn’t keep the agitation out of my voice as I shot a dark look at Rodrigo. He stood before my desk, his back stiff. The scar over his eyebrow was still bright pink, but the motherfucker was lucky to be alive.

  “We got a lead.”

  “Great. Leave it here, and I’ll take a look.”

  My guys had been chasing leads on the trucks bringing the children across the border, but nothing definitive had turned up on Araña. Ever since Eva had left, though, my search for him had taken a back burner to more pressing issues. I’d reached out to everyone I knew, asking if anyone had seen her. No one had. It was as if she’d disappeared into thin air.

  I was furious. I was hurt. I wanted to drag her ass back here and punish her for leaving me.

  “I think I might know where Eva is.”

  My gaze snapped to his, and I practically jumped out of my chair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Rodrigo tossed a grainy black and white picture on the desk. In the background, a young woman was climbing into the cab of a large box truck. There was no mistaking my girl. “Whose truck is this?”

  “Registered to a Joseph Strahovski. He came through here the night Eva went missing. According to dispatch records, his next drop was in Omaha.”

  “Omaha.” I picked up the picture. “See what you can find out.”

  With a nod, he disappeared out the door, and I sank back into my seat. It’d been so long—too long. But we finally had a clue as to where she might be. Studying the photograph, I traced Eva’s beautiful face.

  “I’m coming for you, angel.”

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading Sinful Illusions! I hope you love Fox and Eva as much as I do. If you enjoyed this story, keep reading for a sneak peek at Sinful Sacrament!

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  Sneak Peek at Sinful Sacrament

  Prologue

  “The strength of a kingdom comes from its king. The strength of a king comes from his queen.”

  ~Cody Edward Lee

  Fox

  Anger. Relief. Desire. They all mingled in my chest, the emotions fluctuating so rapidly I could hardly keep up.

  Fifty-seven days had passed since I’d last seen her, and it seemed as if everything had changed, yet at the same time everything remained exactly the same. From my concealed spot where I’d been watching her for the past four days, I studied Eva as she moved behind the bar.

  I clamped down on the urge to stalk inside and drag her out, force her to come with me. Instead, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, focusing on her beautiful features. Even though she was too far away to see clearly, I vividly remembered the slope of her jaw, the satiny softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. The slight dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and that stubborn little chin. Those pretty green eyes that flashed with fire when she defied me.

  Most of all, I remembered the way she made me feel. Whole. Content. Like my entire existence revolved around her. Just seeing her again, knowing that she was safe and hale, eased the pressure on my chest. Immediately on the heels of the intense relief came the anger. She’d run from me without a single word. I wanted to know why—and very soon, I was going to find out.

  My queen had fled, putting miles between us like the sp
aces on a board. She’d made her move—but now it was my turn.

  A slow smile curved my mouth. “Checkmate, angel.”

  Chapter One

  Eva

  “Last call.”

  I held back a yawn as I cleared the sticky, empty glasses from the table, then wiped it down before heading back to the bar. I dunked the glassware into the tub of sudsy water and threw a look down the bar to the handful of men still seated in the stools as I scrubbed the glasses and set them aside to drain.

  From his spot in front of the tap, Bryce glanced over his shoulder at me. “Can you get the trash together?”

  “Sure. If you want, you can finish up and I’ll take it out.”

  One honey-colored brow lifted. “You sure?”

  I nodded, deeply appreciative of his concern for me. He knew how much I hated being alone outside in the dark. But I was a thousand miles from home—and him. It was time to move on. I forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right.”

  After the whole ordeal with Fox two months ago I had disappeared from Chicago with literally only the clothes on my back, hopped into the cab of the semi, and hitchhiked to Omaha. Bryce had welcomed me in with open arms and given me solace working in the bar and staying in his friend’s duplex. He watched over me like a big brother and had never made a single untoward comment. There would never be anything romantic between us, and if it bothered him at all, he never said a word. My heart still felt bruised, and my mind was even worse. I stayed mostly behind the bar, away from the patrons, where I could avoid the flirtatious remarks occasionally flung my direction. If anyone ever came on too strong, Bryce stepped in, always my savior. He had deemed himself my protector, and I appreciated it immensely. I owed him so much for helping me to get back on my feet.