DIrty Dark Deceit: A Criminal Bad Boy Standalone

by Lacey Alpha

  “Seven sounds great. See you then.” She hangs up, shooting me a glare. “There. Happy now?”

  “Delighted,” I snarl, marching out of the hotel room and heading toward the lift.

  I'm not going to spend a minute longer caged in there with that girl. I'm going to get Darcy Jenkins out of my system for good. And there's only one way I know how.

  DARCY

  I chuck my phone onto the chair, huffing my frustration. Stupid bloody stupid stupid Logan.

  First he's admitting he has feelings for me, then he's trying get rid of me as fast as humanely possible.

  I'm so confused. My mind is reeling.

  I pace the room, desperate to get things straight in my head. Does he really have feelings for me? Is that really what he meant? He didn't exactly come out and say it directly, but his actions spoke volumes.

  Logan doesn't do more than a one night stand. But this was a good deal for him. Just sex, no strings. Why is everything suddenly so complicated?

  I halt my pacing, my skin pulsing with electricity. He makes me feel like this. Like no one ever has. Not even Daniel. There's undeniable chemistry between Logan and I, but feelings? Is that what this is? I've been fighting it so hard, I didn't see it clearly. But now...

  A grin tugs at my mouth and suddenly I feel free. Maybe Logan really does care. And I know this is early days, but perhaps it's worth exploring. If I just admit to him that I feel the same way, maybe we can work things out.

  Filled with hope, I run out of the room, heading downstairs to find him.

  As I take the lift to the lobby, my heart beats a frantic tune on my ribcage. Am I ready for this? Even the admission of me having feelings for someone is a big step for me. I've tried so hard to avoid this and yet here I am, running after a man I barely know to lay myself on the line for him.

  I force my doubts away, stepping into the lobby and crossing to the reception. I approach the concierge. “Did you see my er – boyfriend? He came this way. Dark blonde hair, tall...”

  The man smiles, pointing toward the bar across the room.

  I nod my thanks, half-jogging toward it, slowing as I step into the grand space. I take a steadying breath, scouring the faces of the people sat around the room, those standing by the bar.

  Logan's low laugh reaches to me and I snap toward a booth at the back of the room. The smile falls dramatically from my face, my heart plummeting toward my stomach.

  Logan's sitting with a pretty girl on his lap, his hands around her waist, whispering into her ear. She giggles lightly, her eyes flaring with desire like he's said something filthy to her.

  I back up, my legs hitting the table behind me. I'm speechless, feeling like the biggest fool ever. Heat grows in my chest, sliding up my neck to my cheeks. I've been such an idiot. How could I have let my guard down for a guy like him? How could I do this to myself? After everything I promised myself.

  I hurry away before he spots me -though he's clearly well distracted – and sprint to the lift, taking it back upstairs, my throat burning.

  As I step into the hotel room, the tears escape, tumbling from my eyes, my heart splitting open. I fall onto the bed, sobbing, curling my legs up to my chest to try and smother the pain.

  Never again. I will never let a man in again.

  LOGAN

  “Love's a fools game,” I state blandly.

  “Said the man who died alone.” Adam walks out of my room.

  I need to do this. I'm going to force Darcy from my head once and for all. We'll both be happier for it.

  I tighten my hold on Felicia. She barely speaks a word of English but the words she does know are filthy.

  I run my fingers through her long auburn hair, happy it's not at all similar to Darcy's golden locks.

  She grinds her ass against my lap and I shut my eyes, focusing on getting hard for her. Why is this a chore? I'm usually like a fucking jack in the box.

  I grunt my frustration, pushing Felicia to her feet.

  “My room?” she says in her thick accent.

  I nod, setting my jaw and sliding my hand around her slim waist. She swings her hips as we head toward the lift, entering the empty space and rising upwards. As we ascend, Felicia wraps her hands around my neck, laying kisses on my throat.

  I grow impatient, my body giving her no response at all.

  “For fuck's sake,” I mutter and she glances up at me with wide green eyes.

  I give her a small smile of apology and she continues her journey up my throat to my jaw. We arrive on her floor and she takes my hand, walking backwards out of the lift, giving me a seductive smile.

  I stalk after her, trying to concentrate.

  This is going to happen.

  Just gotta reason with my dick. Get onboard, motherfucker.

  Felicia leads me into her room and I pull her against me, sliding my tongue into her mouth. She responds excitedly, her tongue doing some sort of cartwheel over mine. My dick still has no response.

  She steps away, slowly beginning to strip, sliding the zip down the front of her plum-coloured dress, revealing her dark navy lingerie to me.

  I glance down at my cock, giving it the go-ahead, but there's not so much as a twitch.

  “Fuck!” I snap, turning sharply, wrenching the door open and marching from the room without explanation. She wouldn't understand even if I tried to give her one. And I'm not in the mood to explain in broken French that my dick won't work.

  Heading upstairs, I rip open the door to Darcy and I's room, finding her on the bed, sitting up, her face pale and stoic.

  “That was quick,” she remarks coolly, gazing at her phone like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

  “I went for a drink.”

  “Right.”

  I survey her expression, unsure why she's acting so oddly. “Something wrong?”

  “Nope,” she says lightly, her eyes still fixed on her phone.

  My cock twitches and I scowl. Thanks for showing up, fucker. A lot of good it does me now.

  I barge my way into the bathroom, needing some space from Darcy. She's got me by the fucking balls. And I don't know if there's a thing I can do about it.

  ¸.•*´♥`*•.¸

  Darcy puts on a delectable little pink dress that makes my cock ache. She pins the broach on the front of it before placing the earpiece in her ear without a word. She evidently doesn't want me anywhere near her. Her body language has pretty much screamed 'keep the fuck away' since I returned to the hotel room.

  I guess things are officially done between us. I just wish my cock would get the message, too.

  “As soon as I've got the car, you can make your excuses and get out of there.”

  Darcy stands in front of the mirror, fastening some silver stud earrings into her ears. “Oh I don't know...” she says lightly. “Maybe I'll fuck him anyway and get my kicks.”

  My stomach twists sharply and I drop my eyes from her back. I wish I could stop her from pursuing things with Heathcote, but she's clearly determined. “Do whatever you want.”

  She turns to me, blinking heavily. “We both know where we stand now, don't we?”

  “Yep. I got the memo, sweetheart.”

  “Me too,” she breathes, exiting the room and leaving me gaping after her. Why is she acting like I'm the prick? She's the one who ended this.

  I grab a little bottle of vodka from the mini-bar, chugging it, the bitter taste burning all the way down. I grimace, snatching out another one. Chasing vodka with vodka, why the fuck not?

  Grabbing my iPad, I drop into a chair, propping it up in my lap and turning on the camera.

  “You there?” she mutters when she's in the lift.

  “Uhuh.” The alcohol settles in my stomach, making my dark thoughts a little more bearable.

  Silence falls between us and I'm half tempted to get more vodka from the mini-bar. But figuring I need to drive tonight, I decide against it.

  I eye Ralph Heathcote as he appears on the camera, approaching
Darcy outside the hotel with a wide-as-fuck smile on his face.

  Putting my middle finger up, I angle it at the screen. “Fuck. You.”

  “What?” Darcy chokes and I curse inwardly, having forgotten she was listening.

  “Not you,” I grumble as she recovers from her outburst in front of Heathcote. “The prick escorting you to dinner.”

  She spits air through her teeth but is unable to give me any retort with him by her side.

  I watch as they enter Heathcote's car, heading to whatever smarmy restaurant he has lined up for Darcy tonight. I don't care how much money I have, if a girl isn't satisfied with pizza and beer for a date, she's not for me.

  Whilst they're driving, I start packing up our bags. If I get my hands on that car tonight, we'll need to make a quick getaway.

  When they arrive at a suitably posh place for dinner, I realise I should probably get going. Grabbing my coat and backpack, I head on my way.

  I drive to Heathcote's house, heading to the location I got from Darcy yesterday.

  “Why do you hate Ralph? Tell me,” Darcy's voice sounds from the iPad I've left on the passenger seat. I glance at the screen, finding her facing an empty chair. Evidently Heathcote is elsewhere. Probably taking a piss. Maybe jacking one out to my girl in the bathroom. Fuck. She's not my girl. Never was. Never gonna be.

  “I don't want to go into it.” The last thing she needs is an account of Heathcote's bad dealings. And if I mention the fact he had a guy killed at my feet, she'll freak out and stop helping me. Yeah, I'm an asshole for keeping this from her. But fuck it, we're in too deep for me to back out now. Much as it does feel like rusty nails are rattling around in my stomach because of it. She can have the truth, just not yet.

  “Well you'd better,” she hisses.

  I sigh, my shoulders sagging. I can't think about this now, but there's one thing I can try. “If you don't fuck Heathcote and come back to England with me in his car, tonight, I'll tell you everything.”

  She goes silent and I spot Heathcote dropping back into his seat. Oh man. I'm not gonna get my answer for a while.

  Right now, I need to focus on the job.

  I park a few streets away from his mansion, walking toward it under the cover of darkness, my black clothes concealing me.

  I arrive at the main gate, keeping my distance from it, knowing it'll be heavy with CCTV. There's a very simple answer to my problem and I suspect Heathcote won't have planned for it. Judging by the cameras I saw through Darcy's footage, he uses a high-tech system. But it's one I know from experience doesn't have a back-up power source.

  Heading to a telegraph pole at the end of the street, I gaze up at its smooth surface, wondering how I'm going to climb it. My eyes refocus on a tree behind it and I have my answer. Moving around the pole, I swing myself onto a low branch, turning and reaching for the next one. When I'm high enough, I shuffle to the edge of the branch, my weight making it sway precariously. Taking out the bolt cutters in my backpack, I lean across the space, reaching for the power lines.

  My heart rate increases as the road looms below me, making me dizzy. Taking a slow breath, I focus on the cable, reaching out as far as I can and positioning it between the cutters. As I snap the handles together, a spark flies between the blades as the cable breaks. I relax as the lights in the houses around me extinguish in a wave. And I'm not dead, so I call it a win.

  It's more difficult climbing down the tree without the street lamps to light my way but I manage, dropping to the ground, my chest expanding with satisfaction.

  I jog back to Heathcote's house, scaling the gate and dropping onto the gravel on the other side. I stroll up to the house, taking a moment to check Darcy's camera on my iPad. They're still deep in conversation so I have all the time in the world.

  Ignoring the front door, I walk around the side of the house, circling to the back where the garage is located. The door is pretty much impenetrable without a sheer amount of force, but if Darcy's camera was correct, then I know there's another way in.

  I climb a trellis clinging to the wall of the house, heaving myself up onto the tiled roof before making my way toward the garage. As I approach it, I spot a skylight shining at me in the moonlight like a beacon of my success. Grinning, I lower myself onto the flat roof, walking to the skylight and dropping into a crouch. Taking out a switch knife, I flip it open and slide it into the gap between the pane and the roof.

  I move it smoothly around the edges until I find the latch, then gently apply pressure to the blade. With a sound like an egg cracking open, it unlocks.

  Swinging the window wide, I tuck the knife away and drop backwards over the edge, hanging my weight from it before dropping into the garage. The air is cool and fresh, the room entirely dark apart from the rectangle of moonlight surrounding me from the window above.

  Taking out a torch, I switch it on, swinging the light around the room. I pause as it illuminates the McLaren P1, the light gleaming off its pristine surface. I inhale a small breath, glancing around the space. Turning to the box on the wall, I take the key for the McLaren and manually unlock the garage door from the inside. I shake my head at the simplicity of it, dropping into the car and, turning the key in the ignition.

  It roars beautifully and I take a moment to run my hand over the dashboard, the wheel, the gearstick. A car like this has been fitted with the latest tech, the finest leather. I breathe in the smell of it, taking a moment to relish my success.

  Keeping the headlights off, I pull onto the drive, heading toward the front gate. Without the electricity, I can open it from the inside like the garage door. Exiting the car and leaving it idling, I unlock the bolt in the middle of the gate, pushing it wide before returning to the McLaren.

  Pulling onto the road, I drag up the handbrake and jog back to shut the gate, not wanting to tip off the neighbours. I need as much time as I can buy to put some serious distance between me and Heathcote before he discovers his car is missing.

  Grabbing the iPad from my bag, I check the feed, finding it blank. Absolutely blank.

  My gut clenches uncomfortably.

  What the fuck is going on?

  DARCY

  “Shit,” I curse. It's the only word suitable for what's happened and it really doesn't encompass my concern. Not by a long shot.

  The broach containing Logan's camera sinks to the bottom of my wine glass. Clumsy fucking me. I mean, seriously. How have I managed this? My big clumpy hands, that's how, knocking the broach flying.

  “You always wear that thing,” Ralph remarks, making no move to help me retrieve it, just eyeing it with distaste.

  “It was my grandma's,” I lie quickly, grabbing my dessert spoon and fishing it out of the glass.

  I hurriedly dry it on my napkin but even I'm not fool enough to hope the camera isn't destroyed. And I have no idea how Logan is going to react to losing the feed. Fuck, why didn't we come up with a plan B?

  “Darcy. It's Logan. Your camera is out which means your mic is too. I don't even know if you're listening to this but...I can't take the risk that something has happened to you. So I'm coming to get you.”

  I nearly stand up at his words, my heart racing like a horse on speed. He's coming here? Is that a good idea?

  “Everything alright?” Ralph asks, finishing the last bite of his cheesecake.

  I reconstruct my expression, smiling lightly. “Yes, fine. How's the cheesecake?”

  “Delicious.” He stands, buttoning his dinner jacket with one hand. “Shall we?”

  I inhale sharply, knowing I should remain in the same place if Logan is on his way.

  “I could use a coffee actually...” I glance toward the waiter hopefully.

  “We'll have one at mine,” Ralph insists, offering me his arm.

  Shit. I have no choice.

  Standing, I take his arm, making a fuss of picking up my bag and adjusting my dress.

  Ralph guides me out of the restaurant that's located on the second floor of an old rustic bu
ilding. Leading me onto the street, I spot his Audi pulling up and grow anxious.

  Where the hell is Logan?

  Ralph opens the car door, gesturing for me to get in. I hesitate, glancing around. Gotta buy time. But how?

  Ralph clears his throat. “What are you waiting for?”

  I take a breath, stepping closer and taking hold of the lapels of his grey jacket. There's only one way I'm going to stall for time here.

  Giving Ralph a seductive look, I rub my knee against his inner leg, moving into his personal space.

  His eyes grow dark with desire, his breathing heavy as I tilt my chin up for a kiss.

  Just before our lips meet, a loud voice startles me, “Darcy!?”

  I snap around, spotting Logan staggering towards me. Christ – is he drunk?

  As he reaches me, he slings an arm over my shoulder, grinning stupidly at me.

  “Who the fuck is this?” Ralph demands, taking in Logan with searching eyes.

  “I-er-” I scramble for an answer, my heart lodged in my throat.

  “Her brother,” Logan slurs and I'm hit with clarity, realising he's acting. “And who might you be? With your hands all over my sister?”

  “You didn't mention your brother was with you,” Ralph says in a low tone as if Logan won't hear him.

  I shrug, giving him an apologetic look.

  “She's embarrassed of me, sis is.” Logan's weight presses down on me and I'm immediately pulled back from Ralph. “So? Your name?”

  “Ralph Heathcote.” He holds out a hand and Logan shakes it hard. Ralph's eyes narrow on him curiously. “Have we met?”

  “I think you'd remember me.” Logan grins and I elbow him in the ribs.

  “I better take him back to the hotel,” I say apologetically to Ralph.

  His eyes flare dangerously though he keeps his composure entirely. “I'll give you a ride.”

  “No, it's fine. I think he needs the air. We'll walk,” I insist, struggling to hold up Logan as he staggers around me.

  Ralph surveys us for nearly a minute then sighs. “Fine. Call me when you're back at the hotel. Perhaps we can meet again later?”