Read Desolation Page 22


  “And for your information, lady,” he growls, so low and throaty I have to force myself to stay upright. “I know how to use it.”

  Jerk.

  Mega jerk.

  It takes me a moment to find my sass, because really, it’s just crawled into its shell and hidden from this handsome destructive male in front of me. It comes back though, like it always does.

  “What makes you so sure of that? I mean, if you used it well then I’d see no reason for this poor girl behind me to be on the floor sobbing because her vagina is in despair.”

  His lips twitch.

  “Or,” he says, stepping forward into my space. “It could be because she’s so devastated she’ll never get another taste.”

  Oh wow, up close he’s even better. His skin slightly rougher, his hair a touch messier. Yum.

  “What makes you so sure she wants another taste?” I challenge.

  “Because they all do.”

  Arrogant.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  His lip twitches again and in the corner of my eye, I see the blonde girl stand, straightening herself out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything and-”

  “Inside, Bethany,” he orders, not taking his eyes from me.

  “But, she just came up and . . . I swear . . . I don’t even like her-”

  I gasp. She just stomped on girl code. You don’t backstab someone trying to help you. I hope she gets crabs.

  “Bethany, inside,” he orders again.

  Crossing her arms and pouting, she disappears inside.

  “Now that,” I say, waving my hand casually at the door. “Wasn’t a very nice girl. I can see why you dumped her.”

  He snorts and I turn back to him, studying his hard features.

  “You know,” he murmurs, low. “You should be more careful who you mouth off to.”

  “Why?” I snap, putting a hand on my hip. “Are you going to attack me with your sword?”

  I nod at his crotch and his face lightens just slightly. He’s got a hard face; I imagine even if he smiled, he would never look carefree. This man has demons, all men with faces like his do.

  “Why is it,” he says in a dangerous tone, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it and pressing it to his lips. “That all of you,” he looks me over as he takes a puff, “women, assume it’s the man’s fault when things go bad?”

  “Isn’t it?” I say, crossing my arms.

  “Women cheat,” he murmurs.

  “They do.”

  “And lie.”

  “Yes.”

  “And break hearts.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Then why,” he asks again. “Is it assumed the man is always the jackass?”

  “Because men have a very powerful tool between their legs, and that tool can cause, well, slight stalker tendencies in women.”

  “Stalker tendencies?” he repeats, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes, stalker tendencies. This is how it goes, listen carefully. Woman meets man. Man is hot, somewhat like you.” His lips twitch but I ignore it and keep going. “Man takes woman to bed, blows her mind and when she wakes the next day, he’s gone. This leaves woman desperate, and woman then proceeds to turn into what we so fondly call, well, to put it nicely, eccentric.”

  He stares at me like I’m off my rocker. “All of this because they want,” his voice drops low. “The dick?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He sighs, taking a long, deep puff of smoke. “Bethany fits that role, I suppose.”

  “Then you should learn from your mistake, and next time perhaps try breaking it off with a little more decency.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

  “Or better yet, keep your sword sheathed and be a decent human being.”

  His eyes flash and I grin at him. I don’t know this man. He could be anyone and I’m out here, alone mind you, baiting him. Still, he doesn’t seem like the silent killer type, just a very attractive man who knows, and gets, exactly what he wants.

  “I imagine it would be very different, if it was you receivin’ my . . . sword.”

  I gape at him. Then I throw my hands on my hips and toss back, “You’re wrong about that, buddy. I’m not that girl.”

  He takes a step closer. I take a step back. This doesn’t stop him; he drops his cigarette and continues this dance until my back is pressed against the cold brick wall. My bare skin tingles against it, and my legs go wobbly when he leans down while both of his hands go up and press against the wall beside my head, effectively trapping me. This close, I can smell him, and he’s a mixture of cigarette and cologne. It works for him. In a big way.

  “Girls like you with sassy mouths are usually the first to crumble. I bet you’re thinkin’ about it right now? I bet you’re imaginin’ how good Id feel deep, fuckin’ deep inside you.”

  God, his voice is so thick and husky.

  “What I’m thinking about,” I breathe, “is which part of your body I’m going to kick first.”

  He chuckles, low in his throat and it’s a heavenly sound.

  “I like the ones who play hard to get.”

  “You need help,” I point out. “And I’m not playing anything. I’m not interested. I don’t beg, I don’t chase and I don’t like men who behave like you.”

  His eyes scan my face, and damned if they aren’t lusty. “I could make you beg.”

  I just bet he could.

  We hold each other’s gazes, both of us clearly as stubborn as the other. Our intense glares are only broken when I hear Kady squeak, “Jesus, you’re not slow, are you, Gracie? I was only inside five minutes and you’ve already scored yourself a man.”

  I turn my face towards her and say in a casual tone, “Oh him? No, I was about to make him, well, unable to reproduce.”

  Kady looks confused and we shuffle against the wall – well, I shuffle as I try to shove him backwards with my hands to his chest. He doesn’t move – instead he pulls out another cigarette, lights it, and then pushes off me himself and turns, walking off towards the darkness. Just as I’m about to lose sight of him, he turns and murmurs, “Pleasure to meet you, Gracie,” God the way he just said my name, it practically dripped off his tongue.

  Then he’s gone.

  Poof, just like that.

  Cool exit, but he’s still a bastard.

  Chapter Two

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  I groan, covering my face with my hands. God, go away.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  Ack!

  I roll, shoving my aching body out of bed and staring blurrily down at the screen of my flashing phone. vance. What the hell does he want on a Saturday morning? Deciding I really don’t care, I flop back down onto my bed and groan in pain as the movement makes my brain rattle about in my head.

  I’m never drinking again. God, what time did I even get home? After my encounter with the mysterious hot guy, Kady and I continued to drink and dance. The rest is a blur. At least I’m home in my own bed. That’s a plus.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  God dammit. With a curse, I reach over, slapping my palm over my phone and lifting it. I bring it up and press answer, before pressing it to my ear. My head is pounding and the simple movement of lifting my phone has me groaning in agony. This better be good. Or Vance is going to feel serious pain when I manage to drag my ass out of this bed.

  “You better have been kidnapped or something equally as awful, Vance.”

  A low chuckle.

  “Good morning, Gracie Lou. We have a job for you.”

  “No,” I grumble. “It took me an hour to pick old man hair from my brush. Go away.”

  “It’s a good one. . .”

  I huff. “No.”

  “A big one.”

  My lips purse. He’s probably baiting me, but he’s got my attention. Damn him, he knows me far too well.

  “A big one?” I ask, unable to help myself.

  “Mega. You got twenty to get in here, or Don will
give it to Julio and he will roll all over this shit while throwing sarcastic useless female remarks at you.”

  I huff. I severely dislike Julio. I say dislike, because Don often tells me saying the word hate is bad for my soul. He’s probably right, so I’ll just pretend I don’t hate Julio. Then my soul can remain unmarked and clean. Winner.

  “I’m coming, dammit,” I mumble to Vance.

  “Atta girl,” he says, sounding far too chipper. “See you soon.”

  With that, I roll myself out of bed and trudge into the bathroom. I have one of those quick showers that barely allows me to wash myself, then I dress in a pair of jeans and a sweater before throwing my hair up and hurrying out. I live only five blocks from work, so I don’t use my car a great deal. Besides, there’s a great coffee place on the way that I’m slightly addicted to. I duck into the coffee place, getting my usual caramel latte before walking the rest of the way to the office.

  When I arrive, I shove through the front doors and nod to the receptionist, who, putting it simply, hates me. I can’t blame her, really. She’s in love with Vance, and he doesn’t notice her. He does, however, notice me. I like Vance, we have a really great friendship, but Sally up there doesn’t like that. Not one bit.

  The building I work in isn’t huge, but it’s nice. There are five offices, one big reception area, a conference room and a lunchroom. Don has the biggest of the five offices, and Vance, Julio and I have one each. We use the last one for storage, filing, and things like that. The building itself is fairly modern, after being recently re-furbished. Now it has dark grey walls and beautiful black tiling throughout. All the offices have been updated and I got a fancy new computer along with it. Score.

  I push into the conference room right on time, and see Don, Vance and Julio sitting around the small, square table. I glare at Julio as I go past and he sneers at me, flashing perfect – damn him – white teeth. His dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail at the base of his neck and he’s wearing an impeccable suit. Julio is good at his job, simply because you don’t expect him. He’s always so neat, so tidy and so unlike a “typical” Bounty Hunter.

  Not that there’s a particular type, but if you’ve ever watched television, they’re often portrayed as scary and mean. Julio is anything but. He’s the last person you’d expect to crash into your world and tackle you onto the ground. In other words, he doesn’t look like a badass mother. Vance and I are totally badass mothers. Well, Vance is. I pretend to be, because, like Julio, I’m not what anyone expects. It can be an advantage, but also a disadvantage.

  It’s a disadvantage when the person I’m bringing in decides to break down into fits of laughter over the fact that I’m a girl. Yes, that happens. A lot. I quickly correct them, usually with a foot to the ribs. I might not look it, but I’m totally endeavoring to become the ultimate badass mother.

  “Morning,” I mutter.

  “Late night?” Don asks.

  I shrug, flopping down into the chair next to Vance – then I carefully balance my coffee in my lap. He reaches across, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close where he presses a kiss to the side of my temple. The other guys in the office are used to this kind of behavior, now. So am I, if I’m being honest. Vance is affectionate, and over five years we have had the chance to grow close. This is just how he is with me. He’s never made a move, or overstepped his mark.

  I know Vance has some sort of feeling for me. I suspect it’s romantic, but I can’t be sure because he’s never admitted that. I just know there are times I catch him looking at me with a longing that makes me uneasy. I adore Vance, but in the big brother kind of way. It’s always been like that. He’s always been a friend, someone I can confide in and that guy who teases me and is allowed to get away with it.

  Most women, however, wouldn’t hesitate to snap him up. He’s a handsome man. He has this sandy blonde hair that flows around his shoulders and the brightest, most genuine blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His skin is flawless olive and he’s tall and lean. He looks like he belongs on a surfboard, riding the waves. Not to mention he has a killer smile that usually makes women swoon before he has even introduced himself.

  “We got a rather large case in last night,” Don begins, getting right to the point.

  “How big are we talking?” Julio asks before I can.

  He always gets the big cases, well, he and Vance. I get the mediocre ones. Figures.

  “We’re talking thirty thousand to bring this guy in.”

  My eyes widen. Thirty thousand dollars? The most I’ve ever gotten is around seven thousand. Thirty is a big deal. Thirty would make the rest of my year extremely comfortable.

  “What has he done?” I breathe.

  “Skipped bail,” Don continues. “He is standing trial for assault with a deadly weapon and he’s also the main suspect for murder.”

  Yeesh. This dude is nasty.

  “I’m free,” Julio says. “I’ll get started on it right away.”

  I scowl at him. I hate how he just assumes the job is his.

  “Actually,” Don begins, and then turns to me. “I was going to offer this one to Grace.”

  To me? What? I mean, I know Vance said if I wanted it to get in here, but I figured it was a medium case, not something massive like this. Don never offers me the big ones, ever. Why the hell would he change his mind now?

  “This is a prank, right?” I stammer.

  “No, Grace. You made a valid point last night. You’ve been here five years, you’ve shown your worth and we hold you back. I’m giving you the chance to show us what you’re made of.”

  My chance.

  Oh God, my chance.

  I’ve been waiting five years for a decent case, something big, something substantial. My heart pounds and I feel Vance squeeze my shoulder. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m overwhelmed; finally, they’re taking me seriously. This is my chance to prove to Don that I’m worth equally as much as Vance and Julio.

  “Don,” I breathe.

  Don puts up a hand, his eyes soft. “You deserve this, Gracie. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.”

  Shit, I need to pull myself together. I close my eyes, take a few steadying breaths and compose myself. While I’m doing this, Julio begins his usual protest.

  “She’s a woman, Donald,” he yells. “How is a woman going to restrain and bring in a man his size?”

  I jerk and lift my head to glare at Julio. “And you’re a dick, but that doesn’t stop you doing your job properly, even though I’m sure the size of your ego constantly gets in the way. Careful, Julio, one day you’ll trip over it and it’ll be me pointing fingers at you.”

  He opens his mouth to fire something equally as harsh back, but Don cuts him off.

  “You disrespect anyone on my team like that again, Julio, you’ll find yourself without a job,” Don barks. “I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior. Grace has the same rights as any member of this team; her being a woman has nothing to do with it. Grace is smart, she’s well trained and she knows what she’s doing. I have all faith she will find a way to bring him in.”

  “She’s tiny,” Julio protests but it comes out as a pathetic huff.

  Don flinches and leans forward on his elbows. “And you’re walking a fine line, Julio. I’ve made my decision.”

  Go Don!

  Julio’s chair skids back and he throws his hands down onto the table, glaring at me. “You’ll fail, and I’ll be waiting when you do.”

  With that, he storms out.

  “Such a child,” I mutter as he leaves.

  Vance chuckles and Don clears his throat. I turn back and straighten my back. “I can do this Don, so hit me with it. What am I dealing with?”

  He slides a folder towards me, and I flick it open. My entire world comes to a screeching halt when I take in the picture of the drop dead gorgeous male on the front and I gasp. Then my eyes move to the name, Raide Knox. Oh no. Oh fucking no. This can’t be right. This can
’t be the man who had me pinned against a wall last night. The man that made my knees weak. The man who burned himself into my brain.

  Shit.

  “Is everything okay?” Don asks.

  “Ah,” I squeak. “Raide Knox?”

  “You’ve heard of him?”

  You could say that. I didn’t know his name until now but I’ve seen enough of everything else. I’m not about to tell Don I was getting aroused over the man, and smart mouthing him, less than twenty-four hours ago. That’s hardly going to show him I’m good at my job. No, he can’t know that I came that close to Raide and that we discussed his sword. Raide the criminal. He didn’t look like a criminal. He certainly didn’t look like a murderer . . . or at least someone who wanted to murder another person.

  “I’ve heard his name, yes,” I answer, giving him the best I’ve got.

  “Well you know he is quite well known and powerful. You need to be careful with this one, he’s smart and he’s cunning.”

  That he is.

  I flick through the folder, reading over his charges, his trial dates and when he was meant to check back in for those. “Where was he last seen?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

  “He was sighted three days ago at East Gun Shop.”

  “Okay,” I say, closing the file. “I’ll study this over the weekend and on Monday, I’ll get started. What’s my deadline?”

  “Two months.”

  I nod, and stand. I turn to Vance. “You still coming around tonight?”

  He nods, grinning up at me. We have a weekly movie night, where we watch all the action comedies. It’s just our thing. I flash him a smile and then turn to Don who is rolling his eyes – he knows about Vance and my weekly movie night and he chooses to stay out of it, after all, we’re not breaking any rules. “Thank you, Don. I won’t let you down.”

 


 

  Bella Jewel, Desolation

 


 

 
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