WANTED: A Bad Boy Crime Romance

by Samantha Cade

  “Or find them dead,” Jack says. He pulls away from her, propping himself on his elbow. Amber turns on her back and looks up at him.

  “Have you even been able to mourn him?” Amber asks.

  Jack considers this for a moment. “I guess not. Those first few days, I numbed my brain with cocaine. Then the police were chasing me, so that was distracting.” He laughs, trying to make light of the subject. Amber’s face remains serious. She presses her palm against his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she says, her eyes welling with tears. “I know what you’re going through. I know.”

  A lump rises in Jack’s throat. He knows if he starts talking, he’ll start crying too. So he does the only thing he can think to do. He wraps himself around Amber, clutching her tightly. They hang on to each other, against gravity, against their own pain.

  Jack ends up on top of her, and they’re fucking again. They go at each other desperately, their bodies covered in sweat as they writhe together in the twisted sheets.

  When they part, they’re gasping for air and content. Jack rises from the bed, stark naked, and stretches up the ceiling. Amber admires his toned ass, and thick, muscular thighs. She reaches out and grazes the back of his knee. He looks back with a warning in his eyes.

  “Do you want coffee, or do you want me to fuck you again?”

  Amber bites her lip, weighing her options. “Coffee. For now.”

  Jack kisses the top of her head, then walks out of the room, whistling while his naked cock swings heavily between his legs. Amber lays back on the bed, a bittersweet happiness invading her chest.

  This is too right. Jack is too perfect. He’s mouthwateringly hot, of course, and the ideal combination of tenderness, and blood pumping danger. Amber doesn’t know if she believes in fate, but it was something that brought the two of them together. She can’t go back to her old life after this, to her rented room over someone’s garage, and her depressing bank account, which will never hold enough to buy her freedom.

  And yet, this blissful existence can’t go on forever. Amber’s noticed that Jack doesn’t have much food. And Amber doesn’t have any clothing. They can’t stay here, in this cabin. If Jack’s legal issues don’t get straightened out, there’s no chance of them actually being together. And that thought cracks a line right through Amber’s heart.

  “We should figure out who did it. Tell the police.”

  Jack’s stirring the instant coffee into hot water. He turns to see Amber leaning against the counter. She’s wrapped in a sheet. Her hair is wild from sex. It stands straight out, framing her pensive face.

  “I’m not going anywhere near the police,” Jack says, a gut reaction.

  “No, of course not. Not until we know the truth,” Amber says.

  Jack leans against the counter, swinging his head down low. “This isn’t a book, Amber. This is my life. I could go to prison, get the death penalty.”

  “What about your father’s company, your family’s legacy? Are you just going to leave that behind?”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “You deserve it.”

  Jack breathes through the anger creeping up his spine. Amber’s trying to convince him he’s not as despicable as he knows he is.

  “You can’t stay here, Jack. This is no way to live.”

  Amber approaches him. Jack’s nerves are frayed. He whirls around towards her, so fast she jumps back. He gets in her face.

  “So what we start digging, and we find out that I did it? That I’m the murderer. Then what will happen to your little fantasy? It won’t be so fun anymore, will it?”

  Amber stiffens her upper lip, gazing at him straight on. She cups her hands around his face, pulling him closer to her.

  “Jack,” she says, through her teeth. “Whether you did it or not, I don’t give a fuck.”

  Jack feels a swirling around his head. Suddenly, he has tunnel vision. All he can see his her. The red hot anger flowing through his veins turns white. He stares at the woman in front of him. He sees the fierce loyalty in her eyes. He knows he’s done nothing to deserve this, but it feels too good to ignore. He hitches his arm around her waist, throws her on the counter, and fucks her savagely.

  Chapter Six

  Jack’s uneasy with Amber driving the car into town on her own, although he doesn’t think she’ll drive straight to the police station and give him up. He trusts her. When they opened their bodies up to each other, Jack felt a connection, something unspoken, yet profound. But Jack’s not used to trusting others.

  If this is some elaborate plan on Amber’s part, then she’s an amazing actress. She’s thrown herself headlong into the investigation. She’s made him go over that night repeatedly, and has memorized every small detail. At first it was painful for Jack to recall that trauma, but after the hundredth time, the memories had lost some of their teeth.

  “What made you go to your father’s office?” Amber asks. They’re sitting on the couch. Her legs are draped over his lap. She’s wearing another one of his T-shirts and no panties. Jack would rather slide his finger up her thigh, tempt her to open her legs for him, instead of going over this once again. “I keep going back to Chloe, the waitress. Could she have had any part in this?” Amber shakes her head. “Maybe I’m reaching.”

  Jack bends and kisses her knee. “You know I don’t remember.”

  Amber looks at him, shaking her head in frustration. She presses a fingertip against his third eye. “Just think, all of the answers are right there, locked away in your skull. If only we could just pry them out.”

  “It’s possible they’re not there at all. My therapist said that my brain shuts off during blackouts. It doesn’t make memories. So, nothing’s there.”

  “Hmmm.” Amber squints in the distance, considering this. During this quiet moment, Jack takes the opportunity to plant a soft kiss on the outside of her thigh. He doesn’t want to think about the case. He wants to enjoy Amber’s body by fucking her repeatedly. Amber sighs, her knees parting slightly. “I have to go now.”

  Jack wraps his hand around her thigh. “Now?”

  “Yes, now. We talked about this. Meg’s bartending a couple towns over. She only does that once a week.”

  Jack leans into her chest, and bites her nipple through the T-shirt. “Are you sure no one will notice you?”

  Amber licks her lips, fighting her desire. “There aren’t any neighbors nearby. This isn’t Manhattan.”

  With regret, Amber pushes him away. He’s made her wet, but there will be plenty of time for that later. As comfortable as his T-shirts are, Amber is starting to miss wearing actual pants, and having clean underwear. She walks to the kitchen and grabs one of Jack’s coats.

  “You’re going to freeze to death,” Jack says, eyeing her bare legs.

  “I’m going to be quick.” She reaches across the counter for the car keys. By the time she turns around, Jack is on her. The ledge of the counter presses against her back as he leans into her.

  “Don’t take too long,” he says, with possessive intensity. “Don’t make me come and find you.”

  Amber laughs, but she knows he’s dead serious. Ever since they’ve gotten intimate, Jack watches her every move. He behaves as if she’s his property. This might offend a normal woman, but Amber finds it rather hot. Standing on her tiptoes, she plants a passionate kiss on his lips.

  “I’ll be right back,” she says.

  *

  Amber understands why this would make Jack feel insecure, but he needn’t worry. She has no intention of leaving him behind. In fact, she can’t wait to get back to him. She races down the quiet streets, fueled by an intense energy. She’s never been involved in something so exciting, so dangerous, and the fact she gets to enjoy Jack’s cock is the delicious icing on the cake, and the icing is Amber’s favorite part.

  Meg lives a few miles outside of town in a brick house left to her by her grandmother. The house was built in the fifties. The garage that Amber’s been living above w
as an add-on, and shoddily built. Instead of the beautiful brick of the house, the garage is covered with the cheapest vinyl Meg’s contractor could find. In Amber’s room, the floor groans with each step. She has to be careful not to close the doors too hard, or the frame will warp. Amber always thought that one day she’d end up falling through it, onto the hood of Meg’s car underneath.

  Amber peeks through the window of the garage. Meg’s car isn’t there. No one’s around, which is good. If anyone saw Amber right now, they’d definitely question her appearance. She’s shivering violently despite Jack’s warm coat. Amber lifts up the welcome mat and finds the spare key to her room. Once inside, she jams as much as she can fit into a duffel bag. She takes off Jack’s shirt and puts on an old sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Before she leaves, she gives her bookshelf a passing gaze, fantasizing about seeing Amber Louise Parker printed on one of the spines.

  While driving back, her pocket begins to buzz. She realizes her phone’s in Jack’s jacket. Slowing down, she checks the screen. The battery is nearly dead, and she doesn’t recognize the number. Amber’s the kind of person who answers every call, and out of habit, she swipes the screen.

  “Hello?”

  No one answers. There’s music playing in the background. It sounds like something classical. Other than that, there’s faraway breathing.

  “Hello?” Amber asks again.

  There’s an exhale. Amber can picture someone smile.

  “Looks like he didn’t do it,” says a male voice. “Jack must like you.”

  The statement sends a chill down Amber’s spine. Out of fear, she drops the phone in her lap, and accidentally swerves on the shoulder of the road. After regaining control, she picks up the phone, hoping the caller is still there. But the phone’s completely dead.

  *

  Amber’s back at the cabin within an hour. Jack watches the car approach, and satisfaction snakes through his core. This is what he needs, a woman like Amber on his side. As headlights sweep over the window, he’s filled with a powerful determination.

  As soon as she walks through the door, Jack’s on her. He hooks his arm around her waist, tipping her back for a kiss. Amber kisses him back, but her body’s a bit stiff.

  Doesn’t matter. I’ll get her loosened up.

  Jack slips his hand down the slopes of her breasts, and studies her new outfit.

  “I liked you better half naked,” he says, inserting his hand into the sweatshirt.

  Amber sighs when he cups her breasts, but the stiffness remains. “Jack, I need to ask you something.”

  Jack lifts the sweatshirt, exposing the bottoms of her breasts. He buries his face in them.

  “Go ahead,” he says.

  Amber digs into the pocket of the jacket, and pulls out her phone. Jack glances at the dark screen.

  “That thing’s dead,” he says.

  Amber carefully extracts herself from his embrace. In the duffel bag, she finds her charger, and plugs the phone into the wall. After a few seconds, she’s able to open the screen.

  “Do you recognize this number?” she asks.

  All Jack has to do is glance at it. “Henry.” He swoops back in to kiss her, but she backs away.

  “Well, Henry called,” she says, sarcastically. “He was surprised you hadn’t killed me yet.”

  Jack deepens his smile, then laughs darkly against her neck. “You know I’m not going to kill you.”

  “I know.”

  Jack’s working on unbuttoning her jeans now, making it hard for Amber to concentrate.

  “Are you sure you can trust him?” she forces herself to ask.

  “Don’t let him scare you. He was just being an asshole. He has a dark sense of humor.”

  “But Jack, if his father set you up-“

  “We need him.”

  Amber shakes her head. “Why?”

  Jack takes a few steps back. Even with some distance between him, Amber still feels caught in his magnetism. He crosses his arms over his large chest, staring at her intensely.

  “We’re going back to New York. We’re going to find my father’s killer, clear my name.”

  Amber wants to jump up and down. This is what she’s been waiting to hear from Jack, but she’s been careful not to press the subject.

  “That’s exactly what we need to do.” She steps toward him, taking her hand. “I’m on your side, Jack. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.” She catches his chin and turns his face towards her. “And I’ll never betray you.”

  A deep smile carves into Jack’s face. He bites her earlobe, a growl rumbling from his throat.

  “You don’t need Henry,” Amber says before desire invades her brain. “You have me.”

  Jack kisses her neck, unperturbed. “We need him. He owns residential property in Queens. He can get us an apartment there under my alias.”

  Amber is quiet while he traces her collarbone with his lips. Jack’s right. Where else could they go that wouldn’t arouse suspicion? Any other landlord would require more than a forged ID. Amber didn’t have any credit, so she couldn't rent a place herself.

  Jack wraps his hand around her throat, forcing her to look up at him. “Now, are you going to go to the bedroom willingly, or do I have drag you there?”

  Amber forgets her questions for a moment, and lets the desire embrace her. She plants her feet on the floor, giving Jack a coy smile. His expression darkens. He picks her up, throws her over his shoulder, and walks straight to the bedroom.

  Chapter Seven

  “You say Henry and Joel are the only two people you can trust. But you have other people in your life, your mother, father, your sister.”

  “It’s not the same with them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have to hide a part of myself, a big part of myself, around my family. It upsets them too much.”

  “And Henry and Joel are different? You don’t have to hide from them?”

  “No. They’re just as dark as me.”

  “Meaning, you’re all complicit?”

  “I told you I didn’t want to talk about that-“

  “This is therapy, Jack. Nothing’s off the table. Are you still having the nightmares?”

  “They’re different every time. My memories are all jumbled together. I don’t know what’s real, what’s not. Why can’t I just forget it?”

  “Trauma leaves an imprint on the brain. It changes its chemistry.”

  “It wasn’t my trauma. It was hers. I think.”

  *

  When they drive into Queens, Amber gawks out of the window, her mouth agape. The streets are buzzing with people and energy, even though it’s nighttime. It gives her a strange high knowing this is where she’ll be living. Jack hunches forward over the steering wheel. Amber has dyed his hair and beard again. This time the color is closer to a natural looking red than orange. His beard is trimmed close to his face. His hair is two inches longer than it is on his wanted poster. He’s bigger, beefier too. Anyone not paying much attention would never realize he’s Jack Larsen.

  Amber tries to count the many lies she’s living under, but she quickly loses track. She quit her job at the diner by leaving Victor a voicemail. She told Meg and her father that she’s met a man, Pete Shepherd, and she’s going to stay in New York with him for a while. Meg was excited for her, but her dad was suspicious. He kept asking questions, and Amber kept avoiding them. In the end, his happiness that Amber had a prospect for the future outweighed his apprehension. Amber wondered how long that scale would tip in her favor.

  She doesn’t enjoy lying. It makes her feel slimy, dirty. But it’s for a good cause. She can’t tell anyone Jack’s real identity, what she’s really doing. Once they find the killer, and her name is in print, everyone would know the truth. Until then, she’d have to sidestep their questions as well as she could.

  The apartment is on the top floor of a three story building. It’s fully furnished, and has a small sitting room, a kitchenette, one bedroom an
d one bathroom. It’s quaint and comfortable. It feels like a genuine starter apartment that a young couple would rent. Only Amber’s seen the rental prices here. This is no starter apartment. She walks onto the balcony, which is only large enough to fit two people maximum, and tries to forget about the monthly cost of this place. After a few moments, Jack comes out to join her.

  “We need to act as normally as possible. Don’t get too close to any of the neighbors,” Jack says. He holds his hand protectively on her lower back.

  “We’ve been over this,” Amber says, turning to him. “No one knows you in Queens. You’ll be safe.”

  “They could’ve seen me on the news,” Jack grumbles. “It makes me nervous being here, this close to people.”

  Amber lays her hand on his bicep in an attempt to console him. But she’s nervous too. One wrong move, someone recognizes him, and poof, everything’s over.

  “We’ll be careful.” She wraps her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest.

  How normal we must look, Amber thinks. Just a regular couple, embracing on the balcony. She looks down at the pedestrians on the street below. If they only knew…

  *

  Jack neglected to tell Joel he was coming back to New York. He knew Joel would only try to talk him out of it. Jack understands the practicality of this, don’t take risks, don’t get caught. But playing it safe isn’t going to get him his life back.

  Now that they’ve settled into the new place, Jack decides it’s time to contact Joel. He needs his friend’s help, Joel’s knowledge of the law, and not to mention Joel’s contacts at the NYPD. More than that, he needs as many people he could trust as possible.

  Jack calls Joel from Amber’s phone. Before Joel even says hello, Jack blurts out the address. Joel answers him with blunt silence, then quickly hangs up. Jack knows he understands.

  Forty-five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Jack tells Amber to wait in the bedroom. Joel enters quickly, then closes and locks the door behind him. He stands in shocked silence for a few moments, his boyish face flushed red. Jack figures he ran all the way up the stairs. Joel blinks slowly.