Wanted: A Bad Boy Romance

by Hawk, Maya

  “Psh,” I laugh. “He’ll get over it. Shit, Jordana, you had me worried.”

  Her almond-shaped eyes squint. She opens her mouth to speak, but yawns instead. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I just want to lay here. I want to be here, right now, with you. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or the next day.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Just have to be more careful is all,” I say. “Nobody knows what we do here but you and me.”

  I pull her into my arms, and within minutes she’s out cold. I watch her sleep for a bit, wanting to remember what this moment feels like the rest of my life. A moment ago, this beautiful woman was crying because she wanted to be with me.

  She wants me, this girl.

  And I think I want her too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – JORDANA

  “You have another intern training video to watch.” Kent shoves a glazed donut between his thin lips the next morning. His tongue makes a smacking noise between bites. “Conference room. They’re waiting for you.”

  “Oh, okay.” My heart races, I’m thinking fast, but not fast enough. I wish I could get out of this. I need a reason not to be left alone with Thad.

  I amble slowly down the hall, each step drawing me nearer to an uncertain fate.

  When I round the corner, I spot the back of Thad’s head as he’s seated in the chair closest to the door. It’s almost as though he’s waiting for me.

  I step in, breathing a sigh of relief when I see Caroline. Maybe she’ll stick around? Maybe I’ll be safer with her in here?

  There’s a seat by the window, as far away from Thad as possible, and I take it. His eyes scan my body before sinking into me like meat hooks. The way he watches me is violating.

  “Okay, you two ready?” Caroline says, the DVD remote in her hand. She presses buttons and the screen turns black then white before a menu appears. As she fiddles around with the video, I squirm. Seconds from now, she’s going to walk out, and I’m going to be stuck here with Thad.

  Alone.

  Bolting isn’t an option. I could pretend to be ill, but I’ve been in the office all of five minutes today and no one will believe me.

  The opening credits roll across the screen as the picture scans the exterior of a maximum-security prison. A man’s voice talks about the role of parole officers in the reduction of recidivism before explaining the importance of understanding exactly what it’s like being locked up. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this video before, maybe in an early criminology class.

  Caroline leaves, and my stomach sinks fast.

  The second the door shuts, Thad rises up and takes the seat next to me. I refuse to look at him.

  “What’s up with you today?” he asks.

  I hoard my words, refusing to play his little game.

  “Is this about the other night?” he pries.

  I try to focus on the video, but the words don’t make any sense.

  “Or is this about your little fuck toy? Titan.” I hate how Titan’s name sounds coming from Thad. “You afraid to talk to me now because I know your dirty little secret?”

  He laughs, like a fucking lunatic. I should’ve known the clean cut, good boy act was all a ruse. He’s just as cunning and manipulative as anyone else.

  My arms fold, and I lean away, eyes glued to the screen in the front of the room.

  “Do you know what the district would do if they knew one of their interns was fucking a parolee? Fresh out of the pen?” His smile widens and he scrapes his hand along his jaw. “You’re one step away from a PREA investigation.”

  I refuse to let him rattle me. It’s not PREA. It’s only considered a prison rape or abuse of power if he’s locked up.

  But it’s sure as hell frowned upon, and I know that. I’ll lose my internship, no question, if Thad sings like a canary.

  “And don’t get me started on the fact that a parolee is spending time in the basement of a bar. Fuck, Jordana. Does this loser want to get sent back to prison?” His brows lift as he laughs.

  “I’m not sure what any of this, what you think you know, has to do with you.” I break my silence, but I won’t give him the privilege of seeing me shake. I’m steady, determined not to let him get to me a minute longer.

  “It has everything to do with me,” he says, leaning into me. His preppy scent invades my space, and the overpowering musk makes me want to gag. “I want you, Jordana. I knew it from the second I first saw you. I was nice to you. I did everything right. And you rebuffed me over and over again. And then I find out you’re fucking a goddamn convict? Some loser? Some nobody?”

  I open my mouth to protest, to defend Titan, but that would be confirming everything, and I can’t do that.

  “You’re not my type,” I say. “And to be honest, I don’t think I have a type.”

  “What, I’m not good enough? Do I have to go beating people up to make you want me?”

  I sigh. “Thad, there are so many other girls out there. Find someone else. You just don’t do it for me.”

  My words are harsh, but they need to be. He clearly won’t take a hint, and being polite about it isn’t a viable strategy anymore.

  “Fuck me,” he says in a way that sends a quick chill to my bones.

  “Excuse me?” My hand flies to my chest.

  “Fuck me,” he repeats. “Fuck me once, and I won’t tell the district your dirty little secret.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  I stand up, unwilling to put up with this a moment longer. I wanted to deal with this privately, on my own, and not get HR involved, but obviously that’s not going to work.

  Thad clasps his hand around my wrist and pulls me into his lap. His free hand scoops around to my lower back before sliding down to my ass. I push against his chest, trying to rise off of him, but he pulls me down again. This time, his fingers dig into my hips, pinning me.

  “Let go of me!” I yell despite the fact that we’re in an older part of the building far from offices and other co-workers who might hear me.

  His right hand covers my mouth. “Shah…”

  I’m straddling him, but not by choice, and the unapologetic hardness pressing through the fabric of his pants tells me everything I need to know about the direction of this encounter.

  I shake my head violently. “No, no, no…”

  “Come on, Jordana…” His sinewy tone snakes into my ears and fills my head with the kinds of worst-case-scenario worries I never anticipated when I walked in here. I knew he was going to try something, but this goes far beyond. “You want a bad boy? I can be bad too.”

  Bile rises from my stomach as my thoughts scatter. I took a personal safety class last semester. I should know what to do in this situation. But his power over me is much more psychological than physical.

  “So what’s it going to be?” Thad asks, his fingers teasing the hem of my shirt and grazing against the bare flesh of my stomach.

  I try to speak but the words don’t come out. I’m frozen.

  “Fine,” he says. “I’ll settle for a blow job. Suck my cock and your secret’s safe with me.”

  I shake my head side to side, tears welling in my eyes.

  “What? Is that a no, Jordana?”

  I summon the strength to meet his penetrating stare. Do I allow him to sexually assault me to save my internship? My future job prospects? Or do I run out of here and risk it all?

  His right hand leaves my hip and he works the buttons of his ironed khakis.

  I have to make a decision. Right now.

  The metallic zip of his pants fills the tight space.

  And I know exactly what I have to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – TITAN

  “Someone’s here to see you.” KJ points toward the waiting area.

  I glance at my watch. It’s mid-morning. Not exactly sure who’d be stopping by the garage looking for me, but it can’t mean anything good. I’ve been staying out of trouble, for the most part, and I’m not due to meet with my parole office for anot
her couple weeks.

  “Who is it?” I ask.

  “Some girl,” he says.

  I drop my drill and rush through the doors to find Jordana standing in the middle of the waiting area, her arms hugging her sides as she quivers and shakes.

  “What is it?” I take her by the arm and pull her into a secluded corner of the shop front, away from the prying eyes of KJ who’s currently manning the front desk. Boy’s nosier than shit, and he’s trying to pretend like he’s not listening. “What are you doing here?”

  Her dark eyes gloss over and she pulls in a deep breath.

  “Someone hurt you?” My heart is racing a million miles a minute. This whole thing reeks of Kyle.

  I cup her chin in my hand, but she jerks her head away.

  “Damn it, Jordana, talk to me.”

  “Thad.” Her breath is ragged. “He….he tried….he….”

  My jaw tenses, and my patience wears thin. “Spit it out, come on. What the hell’d he do to you?”

  “He tried to make me have sex with him,” she blurts, her eyes falling like she should have some reason to be ashamed.

  I’m looking at her, but all I see is red. The pulsing of my heart beats hard into my ears.

  “He said if I didn’t…” She stops to take a long breath. “He said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d tell the district about us. And about…what you do…”

  “Did you fuck him?”

  She shakes her head no, and I’m flooded with relief which is quickly replaced with anger all over again. I hate that this dipshit threatened her.

  “But I…” she says.

  “What? You what?” My hands grip the sides of her arms.

  “He said I could pleasure him a different way,” she said. “He promised if I did it, he wouldn’t tell anyone…”

  My hand drags down my face as I try to keep my cool.

  “He…he unzipped his pants,” she says. “And I got on my knees…”

  Her eyes close slowly, her lips pursing together.

  “I…I took him in my mouth,” she says softly. “And then I bit him. Really, really hard.”

  Tension melts from my chest, and fuck, as angry as I am, I can’t help but laugh.

  “You bit his dick?” I ask.

  Her face winces, and she fights off a smile with a crooked eyebrow. “Yeah. I bit him.”

  My cock wants to shrivel up at the thought.

  “How hard did you bite him?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Pretty hard. I tasted blood. He screamed. Then I got the hell out of there.”

  “So fucking proud of you right now.” I take her face in my hands, leaning down to deposit a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve got to go back to work, but are you going to be okay? That ass wipe going to stop bothering you now?”

  “I think so.” She offers a reluctant smile.

  “Just promise me something.”

  “Sure.”

  “No matter how mad I might make you in the future, never, ever, ever. Ever. Fucking bite my dick.”

  Her full lips spread wide. “Promise.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – JORDANA

  “Did you hear about Thad?” Caroline stops me the next morning at work, her face ashen. Her hand flies to her mouth. “I…I just can’t believe it.”

  My heart stops dead in my chest, any kind of a response I might have lodged deep in the back of my throat.

  I clear my throat and lift my brows. “Hear what?”

  “He…he was killed last night,” she says. “Just outside Sudsy’s Bar on Avondale Road. Someone attacked him and left him for dead. Police think he died early this morning.”

  “Oh, my God.” I cover my mouth with my hand, which I now realize is trembling.

  I hated that guy. I really did. But no part of me wanted him dead.

  “Who would do this?” I ask Caroline as if she’d have a clue. A piercing slice through my gut nearly doubles me over. There’s no way it could be Titan. No way. He wouldn’t do this. He was smiling yesterday, proud of me for defending him. The situation was handled.

  I refuse to believe Titan had anything to do with it.

  “God rest his soul. He was a nice young man. Very nice. He was going places.” Caroline gazes off to the side, frozen in thought. “Sweet boy. His poor family. What they must be going through right now.”

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing down and paralyzed with conflicting emotions.

  “But there’s more,” she says, her eyes widening. “Police think this might be connected to the string of attacks here in town the last few years. And that Hispanic man? The one who was in the coma for a while? I guess he’s awake now. And talking.”

  “Are you serious? How do you know this?” I check the local news websites every morning. Information like this would be all over the front pages of every website in the tri-state area.

  “My brother works for the police department,” she says, her voice hushed. “Don’t go repeating this, but they have a name.”

  “They have a name? Just like that? Did the victim know the perp?”

  “Word has it, he was wearing a work shirt,” she whispers. Her finger traces the spot above her left breast. “Name tag still on it and everything.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I laugh. “What kind of killer would leave his name tag on?”

  “One who thinks the victim won’t be alive to say anything the next day?” Her brows lift and her shoulders rise. “Your guess is as good as mine. Some of those serial killers get off on the thrill, you know. The thrill of getting caught. Or not getting caught, I suppose.”

  “So what’s the name?” I ask, fully expecting a generic name which would require a timely and costly comb-through of the entire city.

  Caroline leans in, her eyes darting behind me. “Don’t repeat this.”

  “I won’t.” I draw an ‘x’ across my chest.

  “Supposedly it was a gray work shirt with pin stripes. You know, like the kind mechanics wear.”

  My palms sweat as I lose my breath.

  “And the name on the shirt,” she says, “was Titan.”

  She leans back, rolling her eyes back into her head.

  “What the heck kind of name is that? I think it’s made up, if you ask me. Something to throw the police off his scent.”

  “T-Titan, you said?” I silently plead with the universe for this to be some kind of sick joke, a misunderstanding.

  Maybe Thad’s alive and well, and maybe this is some kind of practical joke. A set up. A little prank he put her up to with a crisp hundred dollar bill from his fat bank account.

  “Titan. Mm, hm.” She spins in her chair, flipping through a stack of paperwork as she gazes out the window behind me. “Anyway, enough gossiping. Director’s on her way in. Just saw her park her car in the east lot.”

  I’m speechless, refusing to believe for one moment that it could’ve been him. It makes no sense.

  Then again, it might make perfect sense.

  In my criminal investigations class, we were taught to look for motives. Most crimes aren’t random. They’re motivated.

  I pull in a cool, cleansing breath and try to find a clear head in all of this.

  If I’m looking at motives, Titan would make the most sense.

  But if I’m looking at logistics, Titan wouldn’t make sense. He’s been locked up. All those attacks and murders since Jerome died couldn’t have been Titan.

  Unless these last few attacks are unrelated to those…

  Maybe we don’t have a serial killer among us? Maybe they’re all truly random attacks?

  “Honey, you okay?” Caroline asks. “I know you and Thad were friends. Maybe you should take the day off? Try to wrap your head around all this? I’m sure Kent would understand.”

  “Y-yeah,” I say, seizing the opportunity. I need to find Titan. I need to talk to him. Get some answers. “I’m going to leave. Please tell Kent for me, will you?”

  She nods, and with that, I’m gone.<
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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – TITAN

  The last time I sat in this chair, I was confessing to a crime I intentionally committed.

  This time is different.

  I’m being accused of something I didn’t do, and I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to get myself out of this.

  I’m a man. If I did the crime, I’ll ‘fess to it and take my punishment. But I’ll be damned if I take the fall for some other asshole.

  “It’s a set up.” I realize how cliché I sound, but this whole thing feels like a fucking movie. Only it’s real life. There’s a very real chance these guys are about to pin Thad McHenry’s murder on me, and I’d be delusional to think I’m going to be walking out of here anytime soon.

  “Do you know Thad McHenry?” A new detective says. This must be the bad cop coming in to ask the same questions the good cop asked. I know this strategy. They want to see if I keep my facts straight. Any deviation from what I said an hour ago will raise a red flag to them.

  Lucky for me, I know exactly what I said. It’s not hard to keep the fact straight when you speak the truth.

  “Yes,” I say. “I knew of him. He was interning with my parole officer. We met once. Briefly.”

  “Were you home last night? Between the hours of two AM and seven AM?” he asks, pressing his pen into a tiny tablet of paper.

  “Yes and no,” I say, slinking back into my chair.

  I fought last night. A last minute gig Kyle set up yesterday afternoon. He waved another fat stack of cash in my face and I took the bait.

  “Right. That’s what you told my partner, but you refuse to tell him where you were. You understand how that looks, right?”

  If I tell them I was at a bar, fighting illegally, I’ll be sent back to prison. If I don’t tell them where I was, I’ll secure my spot as suspect number one.

  I’m two seconds from asking for an attorney, a move I know makes me look guilty. And fuck, I cannot afford a good attorney right now.

  This entire thing is a goddamn set up and I know it. I just don’t know why. Or who would’ve set me up.