I took a step backwards.
“Why would you call me that?”
This wasn’t Hayden Barclay. I knew Hayden Barclay. Hayden Barclay wasn’t nearly this… muscular.
But Darlene had been seeing Hayden. She’d told me about Hayden’s obsession with legs. And then I hadn’t heard anything from Darlene. Ever again. Because they’d found her torso on the shore. Minus her legs.
I’d assumed the killer had to be Hayden Barclay. Never mind the fact that police claimed he’d alibied out. I knew. It was him. I’d come to the city of Aurora precisely because Hayden was here, and I was going to catch him.
But this man standing in front of me was lethal and powerful and someone else. Someone else completely.
I was stunned. I kept moving backwards, slowly shaking my head.
The masked man sprang for me.
I turned, picking up my feet, and began to run.
“Wait,” he yelled after me. “What do you know about Hayden?”
Was that something a killer would yell? Why wasn’t he running after me?
Was he running after me?
I looked over my shoulder, down at the street. It was dark except under the small pools of light from the street lamps. The summer heat settled on the streets, creating a faint mist around everything. The masked man stood in the fog, faint lights reflecting against his muscular shoulders.
He wasn’t pursuing me.
Maybe he liked to watch girls run before he caught them and cut their legs off.
If so, did that mean I should stop running?
I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I turned around.
And ran straight into a man who was coming out of the back door of a club. There were several out here, real down-and-dirty places. Most were owned by mobsters. Organized crime was prevalent in the city, and this part of town was its pulsing heartbeat.
The man nearly lost his balance.
He was wearing a flashy suit with a big purple tie and a black silk shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked back over my shoulder. The masked man wasn’t there anymore.
The man righted himself. He sneered at me. He had a gold tooth. “You should watch where you’re going.”
“I know.” My heart was pounding and sweat popped out above my upper lip. Because I’d been running? Because I was nervous? All of my instincts told me not to piss this guy off. “I’m really sorry. So, so sorry.”
He eyed me. “That so?”
I nodded.
“Make it up to me then. Buy me a drink.” He gestured towards the door that he’d just come out of.
“In there?” I said. “Oh, I’m not sure if… What if I just gave you the money for a drink and then you could get whatever you want?”
His gaze raked my body. “But then I’d be denied the pleasure of your company.”
Okay. This was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t a stranger to men ogling me, but I’d never experienced it in a situation like this, where there weren’t any rules, where the man could do anything he wanted to me.
I tried a smile. “I’m flattered. But, you know, I have a boyfriend. And he’s just around the corner.”
The man chortled. “Is he?”
“Oh yeah,” I said.
“He the one you were running from?”
Damn it.
The man grabbed me by the arm and pulled me against him. His hot breath spilled out over my skin, smelling of cigar smoke and liquor. “I’ll protect you, baby. Just buy me a drink, okay?”
My heart exploded, going at breakneck speed. “Let go of me.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, baby.” His hands were moving over me, exploring the dip of my waist.
I shoved him.
He just laughed. “Calm down.”
I was the complete opposite of calm. I was panicking. What was this guy going to do to me? Would it be better if I stopped struggling and played along? If I did go into that club and have a drink with him, would that pacify him?
No. No way. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend that what this guy was doing was okay.
“You’re going to want to let me go,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Because of your boyfriend?” The thought clearly amused him.
“Because—”
But I never finished what I was saying, not that I knew what I was going to say anyway, because the man was ripped away from me.
At first I couldn’t see how it had happened. But then the masked man from earlier became clear to me. He moved quickly, like some kind of lithe animal taking down its prey.
He yanked the man with the purple tie away from me, and then let go of him.
Purple Tie was confused. He looked around, trying to figure out who’d touched him.
The masked man darted in front of Purple Tie, landing two quick punches on the man’s chin.
Purple Tie lashed out, trying to hit back. But his fists only struck air.
Because the masked man had danced out of the way again. Now, he was behind Purple Tie. He propelled him face first into the side of the building.
He drove Purple Tie’s forehead into the concrete wall.
Purple Tie grunted.
The masked man smashed Purple Tie’s forehead against the building again.
Purple Tie slumped to the sidewalk, lifeless.
The masked man glared at me. “I told you it wasn’t safe out here.”
The masked man shoved a helmet at me. “Put this on.”
“What kind of motorcycle is this?” I’d never seen anything like it before. It was black and sleek and stylized. Not as big as I might expect but obviously powerful and rugged.
“You could say it’s unique,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “How do I know that you won’t be taking me to your secret lair where you keep your collection of women’s legs?”
He looked startled. “You think I’m the one killing these women?”
I fingered the helmet. “Well, let’s see. You’re running around in the dark wearing a mask and driving a unique motorcycle. To say that anything about you is typical would be a big exaggeration.”
He moved closer, his deep voice flowing over me. “I would never do something like that. I’m here to find the killer and stop him.”
Was he? I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “Prove it.”
“I just saved you from that man on the street.”
“Maybe you did that because you want me all to yourself. Maybe you had to get me away from him so that you could kill me.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “All I want to do is get you home and safe. That’s it. I have no desire to hurt you.”
Wow. He was so… big and powerful. I wasn’t exactly the shortest girl on earth. I was a little taller than average at five feet, seven inches. There were lots of guys who were taller and bigger than me, but he was like… a giant. A huge, sturdy, sensuous giant.
Sensuous?
I must be nervous again. My thoughts were getting scattered.
There was no reason to think he was sensuous. Sure, I could see every curve and outline of his body, from his rippling, hard chest to his impressively muscled thighs. And sure, he was kind of close right now, and I could look up at his masked face. I could stare at his lips, the only feature I could see. They were nice lips. Kissable lips.
I gulped, looking down at the ground.
“Put on the helmet,” he told me. “I’m taking you home. It isn’t safe out here.”
Maybe not. But I didn’t know that it would be safe with him either. I seemed to find him inexplicably attractive, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t dangerous. After all, Ted Bundy looked pretty hot in pictures. I could understand why girls let him into their cars. I turned the helmet over in my hands. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He sighed again. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already done it, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t think so, no,” I said. “I think you’d wa
nt to lure me into a false sense of security so that you could get me someplace out of the way. Someplace where no one would hear me scream.”
He snatched the helmet from me and slammed it onto my head. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to take the chance, then. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I fastened the straps under the helmet below my chin.
“Get on the bike.” He gestured.
I hesitated.
He took me by the shoulders and turned me toward the motorcycle. Then he gave me a little shove.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “You’re very pushy, you know that?”
His hand rested on the small of my back, and he guided me over to the bike. “Why did you say what you did about Hayden Barclay?”
I gasped at his touch. It seemed like such an intimate place to touch me. His hand was large and warm, even through his gloves. My legs felt weak. “Why do you care?”
His voice rumbled in my ear. “What were you doing out there tonight?”
“I…” What could I tell him? Should I tell him the truth? How much of it? “I know that Hayden Barclay is the killer.”
“You do?” he said. “But according to the authorities, he’s got an alibi.”
I raised my gaze to meet his. “Bullshit. He’s the heir to the biggest organized crime family in the city. He could have paid off any number of people to swear that they were with him on the evenings in question. Besides, the fact that the bodies are found in the bay makes it tough to pinpoint the time of death with precision. He could capture the girls and keep them somewhere until he’s ready to kill them.”
It was hard to read the expression on the masked man’s face, but he seemed almost impressed. “You’re right. I’ve had similar thoughts.”
“You have?”
“The entire police system in the city is corrupt. The gangs pay off everyone. Three fourths of our fine boys in blue are taking bribes and looking the other way. They aren’t going to stop Barclay. Someone has to.”
“Exactly,” I said.
His gaze caught mine. I looked deep into his eyes. They were blue, I realized. Light blue like the sky in the early morning.
He gestured to the motorcycle. I swung a leg over it and sat down.
I felt him settle in behind me. His body wrapped around mine, taut and massive. I could feel his chest against my back, his thighs against my backside, against my thighs. Suddenly, the masked man was touching me in so many places. I felt light headed. It was hard to stay sitting up. I collapsed into him, and he was pressing against me even more.
He grasped my hips, positioning me on the seat of bike. He seemed to pull me closer to him, my ass against his crotch.
I felt hot all over. Possibly from his closeness. Possibly because I was starting to feel inappropriately turned on.
“What are you?” I whispered. “Some kind of masked vigilante, here to clean up corruption in our fair city?”
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he turned the key in the motorcycle and pumped the throttle.
It came to life between my legs, roaring and purring, vibrating through me.
And the experience was suddenly violently sexual.
I made a little sound in the back of my throat, but he couldn’t have heard it over the motor.
He squeezed his powerful thighs around me, holding me tightly in place.
And the bike took off.
We sped down the street, the city streaming by us—only brightly colored lights and gleaming pavement.
My heart raced, pounding in my throat. The speed, the wind in my face, the hard male body at my back… it was an intoxicating combination.
We careened around corners, past tall buildings and parked cars. We blasted through the city, so fast that my breath couldn’t catch up.
But then, abruptly, he pulled to a stop.
“I forgot to ask where you lived,” he said.
I unfastened my helmet, took it off, and set it down. I turned to look at him. He wasn’t wearing a helmet on his head. Daredevil. I looked into his blue eyes, my heart still stuttering in my chest. I felt out of control of my own body.
“What are you?” His voice seemed harsher, like it had come down a few more octaves.
“I’m an intern.” I was still staring into his eyes.
“An intern?”
“For The Sun-Times,” I said.
“A reporter.” He touched my face. His gloved finger traced the outline of my jaw.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to write about Barclay?”
“As soon as I get proof, I will.”
He shook his head. “That’s very dangerous.”
I focused on his lips again, the way they pronounced his words. His voice was as dark as the summer night, and he was so close now. And his lips…
He grasped me behind my neck, holding me in place.
His lips came for mine.
I opened my mouth to him.
His tongue invaded my mouth—sweet warmth and sensation filling me. His strong arms wrapped around me, pinning me to his body, crushing me against him.
A whirlwind whipped up inside me, sweeping through my limbs and my head, robbing me of thoughts, swirling pleasure through me. His kiss was intense.
My heart hammered away, pulsing thrills over me, into me, around me.
Slowly, he stopped moving. His grip on me loosened.
He pulled away, clearing his throat.
I felt dizzy and disoriented.
And embarrassed.
What had possessed me? Was it nerves? Were more than my thoughts beginning to scatter? Were my actions becoming erratic as well?
I looked up at him.
His gaze darted away. He reached for the helmet that I’d set down and offered it to me.
I didn’t take it. I only looked at it. What had just happened?
“Let me give you a ride home,” he said.
“I can get there myself.” My voice was at least three octaves too high.
“It isn’t safe.”
“I’ll call a cab.” I jumped off the bike. “I’m sorry that I…” Kissed you? Let you kiss me? Enjoyed being kissed? “I don’t know what came over me.”
He set the helmet down. He hesitated. “All right. Call a cab then.”
I pulled out my phone.
He watched while I dialed. While I spoke with the cab company. While I gave my address.
His blue eyes were cold and emotionless, and he gave me a wide berth, never allowing us to get close again.
I wanted to die inside. What had just happened? This wasn’t like me. I didn’t go around letting strange masked men kiss me in the middle of the night. I was very careful about the kind of men I let into my life. I’d seen too much of the dark underbelly of male and female interaction not to be cautious.
But here I was, throwing all caution to the wind.
He still looked so good to me. And the way he’d kissed me… He’d been eager, even thorough. I remembered the iron weight of his arms as they held me in place.
“You need to stay away from this part of the city,” he told me. “You’re no match for Hayden Barclay.”
“You can’t stop me. I want Hayden brought to justice, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that happens.”
“I think I could stop you if I needed to.” He folded his arms over his chest.
Little thrills went through me. Something about the way he’d said that made me wish I could kiss him again.
Stop it, I told myself. So, he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. But he’s dressed up in spandex and a mask. He’s crazy. He’s bad news.
The cab pulled up across the street. The cabbie got out. “Cecily Kane?”
I waved. “That’s me.” I turned to the masked man. “I have to stop Hayden. It’s a personal thing for me.”
“You think it isn’t personal for me?”
I hadn’t given it a lot of thought, really. Everything about this
masked man was making it hard for me to think properly.
“Don’t come back to that part of the city,” he said in a voice like cold steel. He waited until I was across the street and safe inside the cab with the door shut after me.
Then he swung onto his unique motorcycle and revved the engine.
On impulse, I rolled down the window in the cab. I got out my phone, and I began snapping pictures of him as he drove away.
Even captured in a photograph, he looked larger than life, too virile and enormous to be real.
“What are these?” said Lauren Stephens, my editor and boss. She was scrolling through the photos I’d given her to accompany the story I’d turned in that morning. I’d simply pulled all of my photos off my phone, including the ones of the masked man. There he was, riding across Lauren’s desktop in all his shimmering black glory.
“Oops,” I said. “I didn’t mean to give those to you.”
“Who is this guy?” Lauren raised her eyebrows. “This some kind of kinky shit you’re into?”
“No,” I said. “He’s a guy I met last night.”
“Dressed like that? You meet him at a weird club or something?”
“No, he was just on the street.” I bit my lip. I supposed there was no real reason to keep the masked man secret from Lauren. “He, um, saved me when a guy was getting fresh with me. He seems to consider himself a masked vigilante.”
Lauren’s mouth made a tiny, round O. “You’re shitting me.”
“No,” I said.
She laughed. “A masked vigilante? What’s he vigilant-ing against?”
“Organized crime,” I said. “He said something about how three-fourths of the police were taking bribes.”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s great. That’s really great. How fast can you have…” She checked something on her computer. “Five hundred words on that?”
“What?” I said.
“You’ve got the photos,” she said. “It’s a dynamite story. Try to remember exactly what he said.”
Exactly what he said? Then I remembered that I’d switched on my recorder back when I thought he was Hayden Barclay. “Actually, I had my recorder on.”
Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels Page 52