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Authors: Shelly Bell

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BOOK: Black Listed
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He caressed his hand down her back soothingly. “The reason you won't tell me. It has something to do with him, doesn't it?”

She sighed against him, not ready to leave his arms or Benediction. “Your secrets were tied to your family. Does it surprise you mine are as well?”

“No.” He kissed the top of her head. “After what you told me about your parents, I'm not surprised. It's painted a picture of what it must have been like for you to survive all those years.”

“So you understand why I need to go see Asa.”

“I think I do. Text him and let him know we'll come by in the morning.”

It wasn't something she could do with Sawyer by her side. He'd already gotten into a pissing match with her brother at her office. She didn't want to take the risk that Sawyer would somehow offend her brother again.

She moved out of his arms, hating to break their connection but knowing it was necessary to prove her independence. “No. I need to go without you.”

His lips pressed together. “It's not safe.”

No, it wasn't. But even if she and Sawyer wore bulletproof vests and stayed inside their locked hotel room, they weren't safe. And they wouldn't be until they found and stopped that person who was responsible for cutting their brakes. Still, she didn't bother saying that to Sawyer.

“Asa will protect me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I'm still not one hundred percent sold on his innocence.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Well, that's too bad then, because it doesn't matter. I'm going to see him whether you like it or not.”

He took her by the arm. “I don't like it. But I won't stop you. I'll take you there and stay in the hotel lobby.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, knowing what she was about to say would upset him and regretting that she had to say it. But she couldn't tell him she was planning on giving the black list to Asa.

“No. I want to go by myself. I need some space, Sawyer.”

“Some space from me,” he said harshly.

“I'm not running from you or trying to push you away, but I need time to think. I'm not used to having someone hovering day and night. And there are things I can't talk about with you that I can with my brother.”

His eyes softened. “About your past.”

“About my past. The present. My future.” She couldn't talk about it with her friends or Sawyer. Going by what Asa had confided in her about Thea, she knew he'd understand and help her make the right decisions for all of them. At least, that's what she was hoping. “I want to share it with you, but until I work it all out in my head, I won't be able to.”

“And you think your brother can help you do that?”

“I think if anyone can, it's him.”

He sighed, nodding. “Fine. I'll take you to your car, and if everything on it checks out okay, you can drive yourself to see your brother. But I want you to text me when you get there and when you leave.”

She swallowed nervously. Would he ask about the inevitable lapse between the time he dropped her at her car and the time she arrived at her brother's hotel? “I will. What are you going to do?”

His gaze sharpened on her as if he'd caught on to her anxiety, but he didn't mention it to her. “I'm going to call work and put out the dozen fires that are burning and then see if I can't track down the hit man Winters hired. I spoke with Oz tonight while you were with your friends getting ready. He got a lead on our hired assassin.”

Irritated, she bit her lip to keep from saying something she'd regret. “And you waited to tell me about it until now?”
Of course he did. He's a man and wanted to get laid first.
“What did he find out?”

“Guy's name is Jeff Marshall. He's from Detroit. No bank account. The wire from Chad was actually a cash pickup, wired to a check-cashing store in Detroit. Rowan managed to hack into their records to get Marshall's information. Unfortunately, the address he gave was bogus. He's got priors for assault, armed robbery, and drug possession.”

Sounded like Chad had picked a winner. She could only imagine what kind of person would kill for a couple hundred bucks. “Should we be glad he doesn't have any priors for murder?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She hadn't fooled him. His expression grew somber as he gathered her back into his arms and held her tightly. “I think we're facing an unknown. Whether he's our guy or not, you cannot let your guard down until we find out. But I won't let him hurt you. I won't let
anyone
hurt you.” He tipped her head back, his eyes dark with the solemnity of his vow. “Trust me.”

Chapter Eighteen

H
E LOOKED THROUGH
the telescope poking out of the trailer's window and watched her walk out the front door of the mansion that housed a fucking sex club. He hadn't realized that's what it was the first night he'd spied on her at the wedding. But he'd scouted it out since then and seen all sorts of deviants coming in and out of there at all hours of the night.

He should have known that Hayes would sink his kinky claws into her. She was too easily manipulated.

She'd thought she'd beaten him, but no one got away with besting him. He'd teach her in the long run.

He always did.

His head pounded, the beat like a drum inside his brain, and the voices chanted their scheme. It was almost finished. She'd be so proud. He'd built it with his own two hands. She'd thought him
worthless. Stupid. Lazy.
She'd tried to con the master.

But he'd shown her.

And then she'd shown him.

Now he would get the last word.

His gaze traveled to the table in the middle of the trailer where his salvation waited. Soon.

Soon he would be with her.

Just a couple more steps to accomplish before she returned to his arms.

He lifted her shirt to his nose, remembering her sweet scent. Why had she forsaken him? She'd lain in the grass with her flesh, their limbs entangled in spent passion. And her lover had seen him watching. Had smiled at him knowingly but remained silent, getting hard against her leg as he'd suckled from the pig.

Filth.

Trash.

Sinners.

He'd loved her so much. Everything he'd done was for her. Money was inconsequential because he gave her something she couldn't get from
him.
Or maybe the little fucker had figured it out and had given her the ultimate rush.

The voices got louder, excited by the thoughts of blood and sex. They wouldn't lie together in this lifetime, but they'd find plenty of time for that in the next. Then he'd remind her of what it was like to have a real man between her legs.

His time on earth was growing short, shorter than the voices squeezing on his brain would give him. Soon all the pain and guilt would ease and his head would go silent. The voices didn't like that, they moaned and screamed in defiance. He didn't care. Let them throw their tantrum. There was nothing they could do to stop him. No one could.

If he had his way, Hayes wouldn't be a problem for much longer. The plan was in motion, and all he had to do was sit back and wait.

Wait for his world to go boom.

Chapter Nineteen

L
ISA WAVED AT
Sawyer as she slid into the driver's seat of her car. He'd already checked her car out to make sure it was safe to drive. She'd take a guess that he'd be doing that to every car they drove for a long while, even after this mess was all over.

Assuming they'd be together.

Last night, he'd learned the worst of it. She'd seduced her way into more than a dozen beds during her grifter days. No, she wasn't a whore. At least a client got what he paid for with a whore. What she'd been was much, much worse.

Sawyer thankfully didn't see it that way. And once they'd returned to his hotel suite, he'd proven it to her again and again, making love to her throughout the night and again this morning. He'd been voracious for her, and extremely thorough, making sure there wasn't a spot on her body he didn't kiss, lick, suck, or fuck. Every move she made today reminded her of him in some way.

Her clitoris was raw, her mouth and lips bruised, her ass sore, and her pussy tender from all the attention he'd given them with his tongue, his teeth, his fingers, and his cock. He'd taken her in every room of that hotel suite and had shown her just how creative he could get in the kitchen. Who knew all those utensils could be used for purposes other than cooking? She'd never look at a spatula or a turkey baster in the same way again.

Giving her the ultimate pleasure and filling all her holes simultaneously, he'd plugged her ass and fucked her pussy while she sucked on a dildo, forcing her to climax over and over until she'd passed out cold from the pleasure. He'd allowed her a couple hours of sleep and then had woken her by putting her on her hands and knees, removing the plug, and replacing it with his cock. Her eyes had barely been open when he fingered her to an explosive orgasm and spent his release all over her back. Rather than clean it, he'd rubbed it into her skin, marking her.

For some reason, even knowing the truth, he still loved her. It gave her hope that she might find her happiness with him after all.

But before she could tell him the rest of it, she had to lie to him a little longer. She headed toward Asa's hotel, waiting until the highway split and Sawyer no longer had her in his sights before she got off and turned around to go to her office.

Guilt nagged at her conscience, but she had no choice. If she'd told him she had to stop by her office, he would've been suspicious or, even worse, would've come with her. There was only one way to convince Asa to trust Sawyer.

She had to give him the black list. Then
he
could decide whether to hang onto it or destroy it. Either way, it would be out of her hands. She was tired of the burden that went along with having it in her possession. The list had too much power. It was a curse. As long as she had it, she'd never be free of all it represented.

Lies.

Violence.

Fear.

Once she stopped by the office and retrieved it, she'd go straight to Asa's.

Soon, the past's hold on her would end, and she could move on with her life—a life that hopefully included Sawyer in it.

Her hands shook as she parked in the lot across from her office, half from nervousness and half from the excitement of beginning a new chapter in her life. Before they'd parted ways that morning, Sawyer had told her he had big plans for her when she returned back at the suite. While her body should've been sated by now, that announcement, along with the naughty glimmer in his eyes as he said it, had made her pussy wet and swollen all over again. It was as if she and Sawyer were making up for lost time and trying to cram several years into a single week.

She walked across the street to the small one-story building that held her office and two others, one leased by a psychologist who saw patients there a few times a week and the other by an accountant who seemed to only use it around tax season. It was the perfect spot for her, since both she and a handful of her clients preferred the privacy the residential location afforded.

Until two days ago, she'd never run into a single problem here, as the neighborhood was almost completely free of crime. That's why despite Sawyer's warning about not lowering her guard, she wasn't worried when she unlocked her office door and stepped inside, noticing immediately that the air felt hotter than normal.

The putrid smell tinged with sulphur was her second clue that something wasn't right. It smacked into her, making her gag and causing her eyes to water.

It smelled like she imagined hell would.

Her gaze took in the destruction of her office, her files torn, paper crumpled, her drawers left open as if someone had rifled through them. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she snapped her gaze to the shelf where her books should be.

Empty.

The panic was short-lived, as when she lowered her eyes, she saw that lying haphazardly upon the floor, seemingly undamaged, were her books—including her precious copy of
A Tale of Two Cities
. And thankfully, this time, there was no red paint on her walls, carpet, or books.

But splattered all over her desk was something much, much worse.

Something just as red as the paint.

Blood.

So much blood.

A dead animal lay in the middle, an arrow with a note attached sticking out from its furry dark body. She didn't want to move any closer, but she had to know. Had to read the note.

Covering her nose and mouth with her hand, she somehow managed to shuffle her feet forward until she reached her desk. Bile rose in her throat, choking her, as she saw the damage done to the poor squirrel. She only prayed that whoever had done this had found the animal dead on the side of the road first before he butchered it. The alternative was too horrific to imagine.

She wasn't surprised to see a trail of ants crawling all over the squirrel's rotting corpse. Snatching the note off the arrow, she made certain not to come in contact with the desk and shook the paper to ensure there were no bugs on it. The message was short and clear.

Next time it will be Sawyer.

Her stomach rolled and cramped, giving her almost no warning to get to the wastepaper basket before she lost her breakfast in it.

Sweat dripping down her neck, she realized the person who had broken into her office had cranked up the heat to high, most likely to increase the rancid smell.

Sure enough, when she checked the thermostat, she wasn't surprised to see it set to ninety degrees. She flicked on the air-conditioning and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

What did they want?

There were no instructions. No demands.

The first note had taunted her with the knowledge that he'd found her. This one threatened Sawyer.

Was he the key to all of this?

Her life had been quiet until he'd shown up. And her photograph had appeared in the news weeks ago. Why had all of this only started after his arrival in Michigan?

Other than cutting the brakes on the car, whoever was behind all this hadn't made a move to hurt her physically.

What if she wasn't the target? What if Sawyer was? What if she wasn't supposed to have been in that car with him?

Clearly, they wanted her husband out of her life. But to what end?

She had no doubt her past was connected in some way, but she was confused. Why didn't they just call the police or kill her? Why toy with her like this?

So many questions with no answers in sight.

She folded the note and stuck it in her pocket, her eyes fixed on the books. The past refused to take its dirty hooks out of her. As much as she wanted to move on with her life, it still wasn't time. She couldn't turn over the black list to her brother until she figured out who wanted Sawyer out of the way. Not when there was even the slightest chance she might need it in the future.

She picked up her copy of
A Tale of Two Cities
and flipped through its pages, relieved to see the black list still intact. All these years, the cover had cloaked the journal from prying eyes and had kept it safe. But now, it wasn't enough.

She scanned the room for another option to hide it, her gaze falling on the perfect spot. Book in hand, she pulled out the air vent cover from the floor and slipped the black list inside. Hopefully, no one would bother to look there.

As she left her office, she considered calling Sawyer. He'd be even more worried about her when he learned about what she'd found.

Except, she wasn't supposed to have been there. How would she explain her detour?

Not to mention, she still needed to go see Asa.

She'd texted her brother this morning to let him know she was paying a visit to him later. He'd waited patiently for her these last few days, but he'd come all this way to see her, and she hadn't spent any time with him.

Here she'd been fucking her husband at a sex club while Asa was probably wanting to get back to Thea and Annie. She'd acted selfishly by leaving four years ago without giving Asa a proper good-bye, and she was acting just as selfishly now.

He deserved more from her. Even though she couldn't give him the black list yet, she could at least spend some time today reconnecting with him. Then he could return home to his family, instead of sitting around waiting to see his sister.

Remembering the name of the company Sawyer used to clean her condo, she called them as she drove to Asa's hotel and asked that they take care of her office, using her credit card to pay this time.

By the time she arrived at Asa's, her heart rate had returned to normal and she was certain the decision to keep the break-in at her office a secret from Sawyer was the right one. She'd barely knocked on Asa's door before he opened it.

Wearing sweats and a T-shirt, her brother grinned widely. “Come on in. I was starting to think I wouldn't hear from you. I'm glad you came.”

Guilt gnawed at her as she gave him a hug. “I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it sooner. It's just the last couple of days have been . . . ” How could she explain it to him so he wouldn't worry? She didn't want or need another overprotective man watching over her. She'd go positively insane. “I was in a car accident,” she said, not elaborating.

Eyes wide with concern, he gripped her by the arms and turned her to him. “What? When? Are you okay?”

She patted him on the shoulder. “I got a mild concussion, but we were lucky since we weren't going fast when we hit the tree.”

“We?”

“Sawyer and I.”

With an unmistakable frown on his face, he led her to the couch, where they both sat. “I know you were married to him, but I don't like the guy, Annie.”

She crossed her legs and leaned into him. “He doesn't have to like you, and you don't have to like him. But I sure wish you would, because it would make my life a whole lot easier.”

His gaze narrowed on her as he gave her a curt nod of understanding. “You going to try again with him?”

Every time she got her hopes up, something would happen to rip them away. Someone wanted Sawyer gone, if not dead. When she'd walked out on him, she'd sacrificed her own happiness to keep him safe. If it came down to it, could she do it again?

“I don't know if it's possible,” she said, shaking her head.

“Why? Dad's dead. He can't hurt you guys anymore.”

No, her father couldn't hurt him. But someone else could.

“I haven't told him everything,” she explained, falling back into the couch cushions. “He knows that I was a con artist, but I've kept the family out of it.”

He angled his body, his knees brushing against hers. “Why? If he knew that Mom and Dad forced you into the life—that Dad threatened to kill him—he'd realize you leaving him was the best thing you could've done for him.”

Was it? He'd been miserable without her. Just as miserable as she'd been without him.

She wanted Sawyer to know everything about her. Every dream, every nightmare, every hope, every fear. But Asa needed to understand the risk. “If I tell him, he'll know about you and Mitch. I'm worried he won't be able to accept that I'll never be able to stop looking over my shoulder, thinking the Feds or someone is going to find me. What if he decides to report you to the cops, thinking he could somehow get me a deal?”

His gaze burned into her. “If you're asking that, you don't trust him any more than I do.”

She'd thought she trusted him, but her brother was right. Something prevented her from handing over her trust completely to him. Was she too fucked up to get past it?

“Do you trust Thea?”

“With my life,” he said firmly.

“How? How did you realize that you could trust her and her family with your secrets?” Why had he been able to accomplish what she hadn't?

He lifted a shoulder and spread out his hands in front of him. “I don't know. I guess I realized I'd rather take that risk than live with the fear that one day, she'd discover the truth from someone else. But . . . ” His lips pressed together in a straight line.

“But what?”

He paused, deep creases forming on his forehead. “That car accident. What happened?”

Her pulse kicked up a notch. She should've known her brother would ask. “Sawyer was driving us back to his hotel. The brakes didn't work, and we ended up hitting a tree.”

He rubbed his hands on the knees of his sweats. “How do you know the brakes didn't work?”

“He told me.”

His brow arched. “Did anyone confirm that? The police?”

“I don't know,” she said, confused by his question. “He talked to them when the ambulance took me to the hospital. Why are you asking that?”

He placed his hand on her leg. “Because when you've lived the life of a con, you start to smell when one's being played on someone else.”

Her body jolted at his accusation. “Me? You think Sawyer's conning me?”

“Think about it. He shows up, and then your place is trashed. Maybe he did it himself or hired someone to do it to scare you.”

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