Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (21 page)

And as I kept looking into his eyes, I saw that very same hunger in him, screaming to be quenched.

Our lips collided as I leaned down to kiss him, his hands returning to my hips to guide me just as I started grinding myself against him. My motions were jerky, harsh almost, the sudden need too strong to be satisfiable that easily. He thrust up to meet every roll of my hips, going deeper and deeper with each turn. His hands wound up in my hair again, locking my lips with his, but pulling away was the farthest thing from my mind.

I needed him like the very air to breathe.

And now I had him—undisputed, forever.

It was that thought more than the physical euphoria racing through me that sent me over the edge, and he came at the exactly same time, making the moment perfect.

My post-coital bliss—and the resulting white-out in my mind—only held for about a minute, which was just long enough to make me sag onto the bed next to Darren, my breath still coming in heavy pants. Reality slammed into me like a sledge hammer, making my slowing pulse skyrocket again.

What had I done?

And, more importantly: What was I still doing?

“I think we need to talk,” Darren said, plucking my racing thoughts right out of my head. His tone was wry, and when I glanced over at him, I saw that the hint of a smirk had taken residence on his face. Only he could be amused by the situation we—or rather I—found ourselves in.

“What’s going to happen now?” There was no sense to beating around the bush. I might not have exactly committed premeditated murder, but I had played perfectly into his hands, and he clearly had a plan.

He gave a slight shrug. “Do you mean between us? Or in general?”

“Both.”

“Regarding you, I expect that you will drive home now and spend the remainder of the night tossing and turning, as you usually do. By tomorrow morning, you will have rallied your thoughts and go on with life as usual. Sooner or later, you will have to check in with your utterly incapable entourage, and I expect that the fine detectives of the Chicago police department will drop by to ask you a few questions.” My blood ran cold at hearing that and I couldn’t suppress a shudder, but Darren talked right over any question I might have posed. “I honestly don’t expect them to think of you as a suspect. But you are an established key player in my life, and seeing as I will be the main suspect, they will want to verify certain things with you.”

“Like what?”

“Like what will likely be my alibi,” he proposed. “Also the fact that we’ve continued our crash-and-burn affair since you returned to the city. Your connection with Alison, and the fact that you and Daliah never saw eye to eye. They might even try to use you as a character witness regarding me, but that’s the point where I would advise you to shut up and say nothing without your lawyer present.”

“I don’t have a lawyer,” I pointed out. It was a minor matter that could easily be rectified, but Darren, of course, had an answer to that also.

“You will have, the moment you need one,” he assured me. “And the best-suited there is for said needs. As you know, this is not my first rodeo. And I do have contingency plans in motion.”

“Like what?”

He gave a dismal grunt as if explaining was beneath him.

“Let’s say that, worst case scenario happens and they do manage to pin the murder on you. You will be taken into custody, but because there is no prior offense noted on your rap sheet, and you will have a doberman of a lawyer gunning for them, your hearing will be within the first twenty-four hours after they take you in. Bail will be exorbitantly high, but it will be posted. A car will take your directly from the court house to a private jet that will fly us to a country without any extradition treaties with the US. It might be inconvenient to a certain point, but I can think of a worse way to spend the rest of my days than laze around at the beach, enjoying balmy weather year-round.” He paused, the look on his face souring, but his voice remained soft as he went on. “Should you choose that you don’t want to enjoy my company, we will part ways. You will be set up to live in style and have complete access to your own secure funds, plus a monthly stipend to support you should that not be enough. But I do hope that the recent events have proven that you do intend to stay with me.”

That last part puzzled me.

“You’d just let me go?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I’d miss you, yes. But if you don’t want to be with me, I’m not going to force you.”

“Since when?” If my tone was a little sharp, that was completely understandable.

He flashed me a grin, but it was less nasty than it could have been.

“I might have made a few mistakes in the past.”

“Are you actually apologizing to me?” This was getting more surreal by the moment.

Darren clucked his tongue, a hint of annoyance spreading in his gaze. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’m not. But you have taught me a few valuable lessons that have made me see the error in my ways.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that my methods were rather flawed. I realized as much as soon as you started molding yourself to the wrong set of expectations, but I was too emotionally involved at the time to analyze everything critically. It was only after you stabbed me and left me bleeding on the floor that I realized that all those years, I’ve been looking for the wrong traits in my perfect women. But you, you proved to me that you were, after all, resilient enough not to succumb completely to my flawed whims. It hurt me to have to let you go, but your return signaled that you were ready to give us another chance. And tonight you cemented what I already knew—you are my perfect wife.”

Hearing his explanation gave me chills, and not just because it cast my actions in a completely different light from how I saw them. I should probably have felt relieved that, following his logic, I was actually on the safe side, but somehow getting confirmation that he thought I was his perfect match was a lot more upsetting instead.

“You mean like, the couple that kills together, stays together?” I ventured a guess.

Of course I got a dazzling smile in return. “Something along those lines, yes.”

“I’m not going to help you kill innocent women so you can truss them up in your basement!” I bit out—and the worst thing about the anger coming up inside of me were not the murderous intentions, but the fact that I wouldn’t stand by and watch him fuck all those whores.

Darren snorted. “Don’t be silly. I already told you, I don’t have a need for my collection anymore—and that includes future additions. As you so eloquently told me at the country club, and again yesterday, you are my wife. I might be many things, but unfaithful isn’t one of them. I know that you must still be upset about my dalliance with Daliah, but I hope that, over time, I can make up for that and you will forgive me. That part of my life is irrevocably over. Even should you leave me, or die—although it won’t be at my hands—you are the one for me. There will never be another.”

It wasn’t exactly the fact that they’d been fucking that upset me about the girl, but I kept my tongue about that. I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to relate, and scorn was the last thing I needed from him right now.

“So that’s it? No more murdering people for you?” Silence fell, and that was more of an answer than I wanted to get. Licking my lips, I asked, “How many?”

That he had to think just made things worse. “I honestly can’t tell you. My brides were a special project I probably obsessed over a little too much. I mostly just take care not to leave any traces of my involvement behind.” The look of horror in my eyes must have been quite apparent, because it prompted him to ask a question in turn. “How exactly do you think it was that I got involved with Alison? I know, the story that we fed the newspapers sounds so romantic that they couldn’t help but gobble it all up. Bright blue-collar student gets noticed by the hot-shot lawyer and consequently taken under her wings. Trust me when I say that Alison Moss has never done an altruistic thing in her life.”

That explained a lot, but also opened the floodgates to many more questions.

“Do you realize that she pretty much told me that if I couldn’t get rid of Daliah and make you snap out of your recent somewhat erratic behavior that she would have you killed?”

The news—if it was news, even—didn’t faze him at all.

“I admit, I can see where I had her worried. But seeing as all obstacles are taken care of, I don’t think that will become a problem. She is already very pleased to have you back where she deems you belong, and the recent developments certainly bode well for our continuing friendship.”

“Are you going to tell her?” About how exactly Daliah had found her end, I meant, but was sure that I needn’t explain that.

He didn’t even pause to give that some thought. “No. Alison doesn’t want to know. Never did, and I don’t see why she should change her behavior. The particulars of our working relationship are that she lets me know what she expects me to do, and then she considers the matter dealt with. It is my task to make it happen and to keep her hands clean. She retains complete plausible deniability, while I get to…”
 

He trailed off there, scrunching up his nose as if he was looking for the right words.

“You get to scratch that certain, special itch of yours?”

“That, too,” he conceded. “But it’s not like I have to kill. I just enjoy it tremendously.” He could clearly tell that he’d lost me there, making that wry grin from before resurface. “The people who make it to the top of her shit list are usually very deserving of what is coming for them. I’m by no means a modern day vigilante, but you have seen yourself what kind of people make up our client roster. The ones who are just profiteering pieces of scum we let back out into the world to continue their seedy business. But, once in a while, we happen to pull someone from the jaws of the law who deserves a much more gruesome end than a lethal injection—and it is my job to make sure that they meet it. I’m not telling you this because I’m asking for your absolution, or even your understanding. You already know my deepest, darkest secrets. You’ve met the monster that I am head-on. And still, you came back, and you are here now. In my house, in my bed, lying next to me as my wife. You have a right to know.”

As he said that, he reached for my hand—the right, mangled one—his grasp gentle as he brushed his lips over the broken and badly fused bones.

“You could let this get fixed, if you want to,” he offered. “There is no need why you should suffer the pain and constant physical reminder of that night.”

Peculiar as it sounded, his concern was touching—but I shook my head, my eyes still trained on his above where his lips continued to softly graze my scars.

“Thank you, but I kind of like it,” I admitted. “It reminds me more of what I’m capable of than what prompted me to act in the first place.”

He pressed a last, lingering kiss onto my fingers before he let go. “I can respect that. I personally don’t mind the scars, as you know since I didn’t have mine removed. I think we’re beyond the point in our relationship where you care whether I’d mind about yours, or not.”

Which reminded me that we still had other things to discuss.

“It’s not like I don’t care,” I replied. “I just think that it is in my best interest not to give you that much power over me ever again.”

I could tell that my words stung him, but he conceded with a simple nod.

“That’s fair. And, as I said, I’ve seen the error in my ways. I cannot promise you that I won’t always be very clear about my expectations in you, but I admire your strength, and I’m happy to concede that you do know best often. Which is, again, a trait about you I’ve found very charming; a new prerequisite, even. I love you because of who you are. Not because you could be the woman I want you to be.”

That must have been one of the most twisted declarations of love ever voiced. I was sure that if I said so, it would have made him smile.

“Where does that leave us now? You and me?” I asked, rolling over onto my front, but still keeping my head turned to face him. Darren moved closer, too; close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“That mostly depends on you,” he offered. “As I said, you’re free to do with your life as you wish. Of course I would be very pleased if I remain a constant, important part in it, because you will always be the same in mine. You are free to move in with me again, although considering recent events, we should maybe postpone that for a while. Unless you want to be around me all the time, in which case there is nothing speaking against it. But from the slight frown on your face I gather that this is not an option you like to consider at the moment.”

“You didn’t even pack away my things,” I murmured, my eyes inadvertently drawn to one of the shelves at the wall. I hadn’t really paid attention on our way in, but during our talk my eyes had started to wander.

“I didn’t see the need to,” he replied. “Call it wishful thinking. I had to remove most of your clothes for Daliah’s sake, but they are neatly packed and stored away in the guest room.”

“James?” I supposed.

“Who else?”

“Let me guess. He had a field day when that girl showed up here for the first time?”

Darren’s slight smile broadened. “Actually, she annoyed the heck out of him, but he was too polite to show it. Next to you he is probably the person who is—or I should say, was—most annoyed with her.”

“Did he pester her just as he did me?”

That smile brightened another notch.

“Of course not. He was politeness personified. Always helpful, but unobtrusively so. Oh, how she loved him. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d started carrying around a butcher knife with him, ready to hand it to me so that the moment I decided I was done with her, I could take care of that little problem. I think he quite misses you. That only exacerbates his ire, methinks.”

So much for my theory that James had actively tried to make me quit on Darren before things could grow worse—which was, as far as I knew, true.

“So he’s still around,” I surmised.