by Cynthia Eden
She pushed through the crowd. Wasn’t there always a crowd in Jackson Square? And that was why she loved the place. It was so easy to vanish in a crowd. To be anyone.
The crowd closed around her.
To be no one at all.
Emma hurried around the back of the cathedral. She knew the streets so well. Her home was close by. She would get inside and forget Agent Jackass.
I’m being followed.
Emma stilled at the intersection. A horse-drawn carriage rolled by her. Voices called out.
And he touched her.
Emma didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. She looked down at the hand on her shoulder. “When a woman runs away from you, that means you need to stay the hell away from her.”
His hold tightened on her. “You and I aren’t done.”
She looked up at his face. Had she really thought the man was handsome? Annoying, that was all Dean Bannon was.
“I need to find that girl, and you’re the only lead I have so far.”
“Then you’re not a very good investigator.”
Ah, that muscle flexed in his jaw. Lovely.
“You were heading to your apartment.” He pointed across the street. “One block over, right? Seems like the perfect place for a chat.”
My my, but he had been busy. Only instead of spending all his time investigating her, he should have been looking for the missing girl.
Emma took a step forward. He, of course, followed right by her side. They didn’t speak as they made their way to her apartment, a precious little gem that she adored. It was right over a clothing store, nestled up high with a balcony view. She climbed the narrow flight of stairs that led to her room, and then . . .
Emma stopped as her heartbeat increased. The pounding seemed to shake her entire body.
“What are you waiting for?” Dean demanded.
Emma shook her head. “Someone has been here.” Her welcome mat had been moved. Moved over one tiny inch, as if it had been hit by a shoe. She could see the outline where the mat should have been. A bit of dirt, some dust. A marker that showed her something was wrong inside her place.
“How do you know?”
“The mat’s in the wrong spot.” She reached for the knob, and it turned. “And I never leave my door unlocked.” Given the things Emma had seen, she would never have made that kind of mistake.
Never.
But the knob was turning easily in her hand. Far too easily. And as the door swung open, Emma sucked in a sharp breath.
The place was wrecked. Her mirrors were smashed. The furniture had been slashed. Cushion stuffing littered the floor.
Dean swore, and in the next moment he grabbed her and pushed Emma behind him. “Stay back,” he ordered. “The bastard could still be inside.”
Then he was rushing inside. Going through the wreckage, but being careful, she noted, not to actually touch anything. He searched the small place. The studio-style apartment didn’t exactly cover a lot of square footage, so she could see most of her home from her nervous perch in the doorway.
But then Dean disappeared into the little attached room that she’d made into her bedroom. Emma realized that she was holding her breath, waiting for him to reappear. Only he didn’t come right back out.
She crept forward and her right foot slid over the threshold of her home. She glanced down, and her eyes narrowed at the speck of red she saw there. Almost a dot.
Blood?
“He left something for you.”
Her head whipped up.
“The house is clear.” His voice was grim. “We need to call the cops right away. Maybe the guy left some evidence here.” He motioned toward her. “Before they get to the scene, you need to come here.”
She found herself walking toward him. A huge part of Emma was screaming that she needed to run the other way. To get the hell out of there. She didn’t know much at all about Dean Bannon. For all she knew, he could have been the one to destroy her house. He’d known where she lived, after all.
And she stopped advancing.
Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re afraid of me.”
Hell, yes, she was.
Emma took out her phone. Called 911. When the operator answered, she said, “Someone broke into my house. They’ve . . . he destroyed everything, and I—I think there’s blood.”
The operator’s voice stayed calm as she asked for Emma’s address.
“I’m not alone,” Emma said quietly. Because she’d learned not to trust anyone. Not in this life. “A man named Dean Bannon is with me.” She wanted his name on the record. Just in case . . . hell, just in case of what? That he decided to attack her before the cops arrived? Dean was making no move to come toward her. He was just standing there, watching her with those deep dark eyes.
Emma gave the operator her address. “Get the cops to hurry, please.” Hurry.
She lowered the phone and glanced around her apartment once more. Gone. She’d worked so hard to build this place—her sanctuary—and in one night some bastard out there had destroyed everything.
“I won’t hurt you.” Dean’s voice was low. She wanted to believe him. But she’d heard that particular lie from too many men before. “I didn’t do this, Emma. I’m one of the good guys.”
She laughed at that. “There’s no such thing.”
His lips thinned, then he glanced back over his shoulder, toward her bedroom. “You’re going to need a guy like me in your life.”
Goose bumps were on her arms. “I doubt that.”
But Dean nodded and said, “Come with me into the bedroom.”
She shook her head.
“He left something you need to see.”
Her gaze locked on that bedroom doorway and Emma inched toward it. Dean backed up, but his shoulder brushed against her arm as she passed him. For some reason that one brush against his body had her tensing. Heat seeped into her skin, and she hadn’t even realized that she’d been cold. Not until that moment.
“The mirror,” he told her. “Look there.”
But her gaze was on the bed. It appeared as if someone had taken a knife to the mattresses and sliced them open. Feathers from her pillows littered the floor. Her clothes had been taken out of the dresser drawers, and they’d been slashed, too. Her shirts. Her skirts. Her bras. Her panties.
Her breath choked in as her gaze slowly rose to the mirror. It had been shattered. Long cracks covered the surface. As did . . .
Words. Words written in red spray paint.
You’re next.
About the Author
Award-winning author CYNTHIA EDEN writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader bestseller. Cynthia is also a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award (she was a finalist both in the romantic suspense category and in the paranormal romance category). Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia has written more than thirty novels and novellas. Cynthia lives along the Alabama Gulf Coast.
www.cynthiaeden.com
www.avonromance.com
www.facebook.com/avonromance
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Praise for the work of
USA TODAY and NEW YORK TIMES
bestselling author
CYNTHIA EDEN
“A fast-paced, sexy thrill ride
you won’t want to miss.”
Christine Feehan on Eternal Hunter
“Cynthia Eden’s on my must-buy list.”
Angie Fox, New York Times bestselling author
“Eden’s unsurpassed creativity shines!”
Larissa Ione, New York Times bestselling author
“Fast-paced, smart, sexy and emotionally wrenching—everything I love about a Cynthia Eden book!”
HelenKay Dimon on Broken
By Cynthia Eden
BROKEN
Forthcoming
TWISTED
Copyright
This is a work of fic
tion. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Twisted copyright © 2015 by Cindy Roussos
BROKEN. Copyright © 2015 by Cindy Roussos. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition APRIL 2015 ISBN: 9780062349576
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062349569
FIRST EDITION
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