Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
And that’s what makes it dangerous.
CHAPTER 21
Braxton
I watch her go, unable to wipe the smug smirk off my face. She hurries out the door like she’s about to be caught at any moment, and I’m tempted to do exactly that. I knew having her again would be so much fucking better than the first time. And tasting her was literally the cherry on top. And that? That is something I’ll relive for days, if not years, to come.
She’s a redheaded little vixen, but at the same time, she oozes innocence. However, she and I both know that’s just a mask she puts on for the rest of the world. I tempted that depraved side of her to crawl from the darkest part of her soul, and then I challenged and exposed it more than I ever thought she’d allow me to. She is my undoing as much as I am hers. Had she put that gun to my head, I might’ve actually let her pull the trigger. My cock twitches at the thought.
Oh no. Shortcake and I are far from done.
I thought she’d be out of my system once I had my fix.
But I haven’t had enough.
My crime board is in a shambles, but perhaps it’s what I need so I can come at it from a new perspective. I’ve looked at it so many times I’ve memorized it.
The room is destroyed, and it fills me with male pride.
She couldn’t be more fucking perfect. Even if she is forbidden.
I’m not on call tonight, but my phone rings anyway. I’d considered just lying in my bed and doing sweet fuck all, but now that I notice her smell is everywhere, I know I should leave. Otherwise, I’ll find a way to bring her back.
I’m sure whatever Lucas is calling me about is important, so I answer.
“He’s dead,” he announces. “My other guy.”
“Where?”
He sends me the address, and I step on a broken piece of porcelain when I rise from the bed, making a note to clean that up when I return. I quickly throw on fresh clothes, grab my gun and badge, and briefly admire my gun, knowing it still has her juices on it. A masculine pride fuels me, and my cock twitches as I head for the door.
I’m not surprised both of his men have been taken out so quickly. This time, the body was found in a dumpster. They’re estimating the time of death to be about four to five hours ago, which means he was killed in the early evening.
When I arrive at the scene, it’s the same fucking club where I kissed her. Lucas is barking orders, and other officers are keeping onlookers away from the scene.
This club is a fucking curse. Two bodies in a matter of weeks, and it’s not even an establishment that any of the Mafia families own.
“I warned him that he should pull out,” Lucas says as I come up beside him. He sweeps his hands through his hair, his gaze darting over the body with a slit throat. “He must’ve been in the dumpster for hours. The kitchen staff found him when they were taking out the trash. He didn’t deserve this.”
“The good ones often don’t. It’s why we do this,” I say, scanning the area. Brute force was used in the last murder. This time it’s a slit throat. No pattern to the methods used. “The culprit would’ve had to be strong enough to be able to throw him into the dumpster.” Looking at the height of the bin, it’d have to be someone with significant enough strength.
“Cameras were tampered with for an hour,” Lucas tells me. I peer down at the body.
I glance at the crowd, most of them drunks being ushered to move on, some of them not-so-discretely taking photos. That’s when I see him. Hawke Ivanov. His dark eyes are penetrating as he stares at me with a woman under each arm. The guy has a fucking type.
What I don’t like is how close he and Hope are, even if they are considered cousins. She trusts him, and somehow, he manages to always be around when someone is killed. He also clearly has the strength to push a fucking truck, so heaving a body into a dumpster would be nothing for him.
I approach him, and we smile insincerely at one another. It’s like picking up where we left off. He’s so fucking lucky I didn’t break his hand for pulling Hope away from me. But it’s a delicate dance with someone like Hawke. I consider whether I should bring him in as a suspect and weigh up the consequences if I do. I won’t be able to pin anything on him. Not yet, anyway. But that smug fucking expression makes me want to.
They think they’re fucking invincible, these men.