Dark Stranger Revealed

by I. T. Lucas

  Syssi was such a straight shooter. She couldn't lie convincingly if her life depended on it. Andrew smiled as he recalled the few times she had tried to put one over him.

  He'd have to coach her to become better at it.

  Lying was an important skill that had saved his butt on several occasions. Being an open book the way she was, was a luxury for either those who had nothing to fear or those who had nothing to lose.

  Neither applied to his baby sister.

  Still, he wondered what the real story was. Did she finally meet a new guy? He certainly hoped so.

  That douchebag Gregg had ruined her confidence, turning his vivacious sister into a pitiful hermit. Not for the first time, Andrew wished he could beat the shit out of the jerk, or at least make life really difficult for him.

  Andrew's lips lifted in a sinister smile as he imagined the possibilities. A few incriminating items could find their way into Gregg's file, making finding a job or obtaining credit impossible. He could envision the asshole squirming, trying to figure out who was ruining his life.

  It could've been so satisfying.

  Unfortunately, guessing his intentions, Syssi had forbidden him to touch the guy; physically or otherwise. He would have done it anyway, but the jerk still called her from time to time, and she would've found out and figured right away who was behind her ex's misfortune.

  Damn it! Why did she have to be such a softie?

  After easing his car into the garage, Andrew waited for the garage door to close before exiting, then walked in through the kitchen, disarmed the alarm, and turned the lights on. On his way to the spare bedroom, he had converted into a home office, he dropped his keys on the counter and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

  Sitting at his desk, he booted up his satellite laptop and brought up the sophisticated tracking software: courtesy of Uncle Sam. For his peace of mind, he needed to find where Syssi was staying.

  Let’s see where this mystery guy lives. Andrew took a long gulp from his water bottle as he waited for the program to pinpoint the signal.

  Hopefully, she kept her promise to always wear the pendant he had given her on her sixteenth birthday. The one with the tracking device he had installed.

  It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, a small gold heart surrounded by diamonds that he had inscribed with; You're always in my heart.

  Syssi had vowed to never take it off. He made sure she made good on that promise whenever he saw her. It was always around her neck.

  Andrew felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Syssi for years, but he was glad he had done it nonetheless. At the time, he had felt compelled to do it because he hadn't been around anymore to keep her safe. And considering how spacey and self-centered their mom and dad were, he had wanted to be able to keep track of her.

  Now that she was an adult, he still liked the idea of being able to find her.

  With their parents always too busy with their careers, with each other, with their social circle—he had practically raised his two younger siblings.

  God bless them, his parents were good people. Even before they had retired, they had routinely volunteered their time and resources to charities for children, doing it now full-time in Africa.

  Funny, how they took care of so many but had neglected their own.

  When he had confronted them about that, his mother's reply had been that the three of them were capable, intelligent people and didn't need their parents to hover over them.

  "You'll be just fine taking care of yourself and each other," she had said.

  And they were. Fine.

  There had been the nannies and the housekeeper and grandma and grandpa who had lived nearby. And yet, as much as he hated to fess up to any lingering resentment, he could've used some more help. The truth was that he had been the one in charge. Making the numerous day to day decisions that had been needed to run the household, he had been forced to become a part-time surrogate parent at fourteen.

  Right. Water under the bridge and all that.

  Thank God, the red dot showing the tracking device's location wasn't at Syssi's home, so he was reassured that she hadn't left the pendant behind. It was blinking over where she'd said she was staying; somewhere in downtown Los Angeles.

  Zooming in on the building the signal was coming from, Andrew whistled as it came into focus and he recognized the lucrative address.

  Nice. A wealthy boyfriend… Not bad, Syssi.

  That was one fancy place. It was one of those new trendy residential towers, built for those who craved the Manhattan lifestyle and could afford it. But then, he had to wonder where his sister had met someone with that kind of money, given the way she was always hanging around campus.

  Right, he shrugged. Probably a student or a teacher at the university that came from money. Make it a lot of money… As he kept fine-tuning the location of the signal, he realized it was coming from the penthouse level.

  Okay, next step. Let’s see who owns the top floor residence.

  Rubbing his hands gleefully, he pulled up the tax assessor records. Ah, the things he could learn from all the information his employer made available to him.

  His job didn't pay enough to make him wealthy, but it sure as hell provided him with a wealth of information.

  CHAPTER 33: SYSSI

  Amanda hadn't been kidding about her closet, the contents of which could've made up the entire inventory of a high-end boutique. Or two.

  Finally, after trying on at least- a dozen outfits, none of which Amanda had deemed hot enough, they had compromised on a short, grey silk dress.

  On Amanda, the dress probably bordered on indecent, barely covering her bottom; on Syssi it reached mid-thigh.

  One hand on her hip, the other propping her chin, Amanda regarded the outfit critically. "I wish we had time to adjust the hemline. This dress is too long on you."

  "It's perfect, and it even matches my shoes." Syssi twirled to demonstrate how well the dress hugged her curves, praying Amanda would let it go and wouldn't make her try any more outfits.

  "I guess it'd have to do… Don't get me wrong—you look gorgeous. I just wanted you to look a bit more daring. But never fear, a little makeup and you're going to knock them dead anyway." With a wave of her hand, Amanda dismissed any further discussion and moved to examine her own reflection in the mirror.

  Wearing a very short, off-white skirt, topped by a loose, sparkly, silver blouse that left most of her back exposed, Amanda was daring enough for the both of them. And with the spiky-heeled, silver sandals that completed the look, she was sure to tower over most of the club goers. Next to Amanda, there was little chance anyone would spare Syssi a glance.

  "I'm glad you're wearing heels. They make you so tall, there is no chance I'll lose you. I'll be able to spot your head above the crowd."

  "You'll only have to follow the line of drooling males to zero in on my location." Amanda smirked and sauntered to the makeup table. "Come, let’s see what we can do about that innocent-looking face of yours." She patted the stool facing the mirror.

  "Oh, boy. I think I'll close my eyes for this. Please, don't make me look like a streetwalker…" Syssi pleaded with a cringe.

  "Trust me, you’re gonna look amazing. Don't open your eyes until I say it's okay…" Amanda commanded, brandishing the brush like a cudgel above Syssi's head.

  "Yes, Mistress," Syssi parroted Igor, Dracula's servant.

  Amanda laughed, exposing her somewhat overlong canines. "I look the part, don't I? Black hair, fangs…" She made a hissing sound.

  That she did.

  "You should audition for it. You'd make a perfect vampire—beautiful, scary, bossy…" Syssi ribbed.

  "Yeah, not in the cards, regrettably… Now close your eyes. I want it to be a surprise."

  "You can look now,” Amanda announced after fussing endlessly with Syssi's hair and makeup. Looming over Syssi, hands on her shoulders, she smiled a satisfied smile at both their reflections in the mirror.

  Syssi g
azed at herself in wide-eyed amazement. "Wow, who is that girl, and what have you done with plain old me?" The makeup made her look beautiful and sophisticated without being obvious.

  Pushing up, she got closer to the mirror, then retreated, examining herself from different angles.

  "Thank you. It's perfect!" She cheerfully hugged Amanda.

  "Careful on the makeup! No kissing!" Amanda tilted her head backward, avoiding Syssi's enthusiastic, gloss-covered lips.

  "I see the party started without me." A tall, muscular woman sauntered into the room and tossed her heavy leather jacket on the bed.

  "Kri, this is Syssi. Syssi, meet Kri." Amanda made the short introduction.

  Syssi offered her hand for a handshake only to be pulled into a crushing hug.

  "Don't you dare ruin her makeup!" Amanda shrieked.

  Letting go, Kri took a step back. "You two look awesome!" she said, admiring their outfits. "I feel underdressed… And don't even think about offering to dress me up," she forestalled Amanda, then turned to Syssi. "Did she torture you for hours?"

  "Not for hours, but long enough." Syssi snorted.

  Amanda wielded the brush like a weapon again. "Let me at least do something about your hair."

  Taking Syssi's place in front of the mirror, Kri straddled the small stool. "Okay, give it a shot."

  Watching Amanda unbraid Kri's long wavy hair, Syssi observed that there was something both intimidating and vulnerable about the girl.

  She was big. And even though not much taller than Amanda, she dwarfed her not so small older cousin.

  Kri's outfit, of black leather pants and heavy combat boots, made her look like a serious kickass. But then the pink rhinestone heart on the front of her black muscle shirt, with Girl Power printed over it, seemed to say; hey, I might be tough, but I'm still a girl.

  She looked to be about twenty. Powerfully built with wide shoulders and pronounced biceps that bespoke of many hours spent at the gym. And yet, reflected in the mirror, the girl's face was surprisingly feminine. The loose waves of her waist-long tawny hair framing gentle blue eyes and clean, smooth skin.

  "Okay, girl, what do you think?" Amanda fluffed Kri's hair, creating more bounce. "Is there any chance I could convince you to put on some lip-gloss?" Looking at Kri in the mirror, Amanda waved the small tube above the girl's head.

  "No way, I hate the way the stuff tastes." Pushing up to her feet, Kri flipped her long hair back and raising her chin examined her profile's reflection. "I'm hot enough without it. Just look at me. You think any guy could resist all that?" She ran her hands over her curves.

  "I'm sure none would dare." Amanda smirked with a wink at Syssi.

  "Are we ready, ladies?" Kri picked up her leather jacket and swung it over her shoulder.

  "Let’s go. I just want to stop by Kian's on our way out." Amanda grabbed her sequined clutch and headed out.

  Syssi felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect of seeing Kian again. Or rather, of him seeing her, all decked out and looking fab. Clutching the purse she borrowed from Amanda, she crossed the vestibule behind the two tall women.

  "Wait here. I'll just let him know we're leaving." Amanda started down the hallway toward Kian's office.

  "I heard you come in. Though next time, I would appreciate it if you knocked…" Kian intercepted her and together they returned to the living room.

  He looked so good. An old pair of faded jeans hung low on his hips, and a thin, worn-out T-shirt stretched over his chest, showing off all those incredible muscles. Barefoot, even his feet looked sexy.

  Who knew feet could be so enticing? Or was it the whole man she found irresistible. Every little bit of him.

  It wasn't until Kri moved aside that Kian got an unobstructed view of Syssi. And when he did, his expression was priceless. With his eyes traveling the length of her body, he made her feel beautiful. Desired.

  Rubbing his hand over his sternum, it took him a moment to compose himself before he approached her. "You look beautiful," he stated simply as he took both of her hands in his. "Where are you going?"

  "We are heading to the Underground; just us girls,” Amanda spoke to his back.

  Kian ignored his sister—his sole focus on Syssi. "Give me a minute to change, and I'll join you."

  "Hello? Girls. Night. Out… No boys invited… Sorry, bro." Amanda headed back to the vestibule.

  "It's not safe. I should go with you,” he tried, his eyes staring into Syssi's as he held on to her hands.

  "Don't be silly, we have Kri with us. And don't wait up; we're gonna party until late… Ta ta…" Amanda pressed the elevator button, turning around and motioning for the girls to hurry out.

  Syssi pulled her hands out of Kian's grip. "Don't worry. We're going to be fine." She stretched up to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

  "Be careful!" he called after them as they entered the elevator.

  "Night, Kian." Amanda waved goodbye as the doors were closing.

  On the way down to the parking level, Syssi thought back to the way Kian had looked at her and wondered; had jealousy been the reason he had wanted to join them? Had he been worried about her going to a club looking like that?

  Would he show up there despite Amanda's veto?

  Did she want him to?

  CHAPTER 34: SYSSI

  The Underground, as the name suggested, was a basement. From the outside, the only indication that there was a club in the building was the long line of people hoping to get in.

  Roped off with a thick red cable, the line snaked all the way to the parking lot of the industrial complex.

  Going straight for the door, Syssi felt like a red-carpet celebrity as the three of them bypassed the gawking, roped-off cattle.

  Shocked by some of the outrageous outfits on the girls standing behind the rope, she did a little gawking herself—watching them shift from foot to foot in their uncomfortable sky-high heels and tiny, tight skirts.

  It seemed Amanda had been right about Syssi's dress being a little too long. But then again, it wasn't as if Syssi cared to blend in with the rest of this crowd.

  They were let right in, with the bouncer holding the door as he nodded respectfully at Amanda. Once inside, they got the same royal treatment from the guy in charge of the elevator.

  Evidently, in this place, Amanda ruled.

  It took no longer than a few seconds for them to reach the basement, and as soon as the elevator doors opened, Syssi was blasted with the club's deafening music and nauseating smells.

  Sticking her fingers in her ears, she tried to block the onslaught. And yet, it still felt as if everything in her abdominal cavity was thumping to the pounding of the beat. She grimaced, wishing for two extra hands so she could shield her belly and protect her insides as well.

  She should've remembered how loud and crowded clubs were, and brought earplugs… and a nose clip…

  Breathing through her mouth to ward off the cloying smells of perfumes, sweat, booze, and God-knows-what-else, she didn't dare inhale through her nose until they cleared the crowd—climbing the stairs to the VIP balcony.

  Up there, the music was just as loud, but at least the air was fresher and it wasn't as crowded.

  Out of the five round granite-topped tables by the railing, only two were occupied, with most of the balcony's exclusive clientele preferring the privacy of the intimate, dark booths lining the back wall.

  Sitting down at the table next to Amanda, Syssi peered over the railing at the packed dance floor below, watching the dancing crowd as it appeared and disappeared in between bursts of throbbing strobe-lights.

  She wondered if the couples and sometimes threesomes, writhing against each other, touching and fondling, were aware of the fact that they were providing a peep-show for those sitting above them on the balcony.

  Most likely, though, as tightly packed as everyone was on the smoky and dim platform, they must've assumed they had some measure of privacy.

  Or maybe they didn't care.

&
nbsp; "Hi, Amanda, haven't seen you in here for a while. How're ya doing?"

  "I'm doing great. How about you, Alex?" Amanda replied.

  Shifting her attention from her voyeuristic fascination with what was going on below, Syssi looked at the man pulling a chair from a nearby table and parking it at theirs.

  The guy was so well put together, she wondered if he was gay. Very few of the straight men she knew paid that much attention to their looks.

  His blond hair was perfectly styled, and although he wore nothing fancier than jeans and a white, button-down shirt, both looked like expensive designer items that had been custom tailored to his exact fit.

  Still, she wouldn't have thought much of that get-up if not for the row of three diamond studs in his right ear and the matching set of a diamond watch and bracelet.

  The guy had more jewelry on him than her and Amanda combined. Kri wasn't even wearing a watch.

  But then, the leering glance he sneaked Syssi's way was all heterosexual.

  "Alex, sweetheart, meet my friend Syssi. It's her first time here, so be a doll and take good care of her." Amanda smiled at the guy.

  "Syssi, this is my good friend Alex, the owner of this fab place."

  "A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Smiling with the confidence of a man who was well aware of how handsome he was, Alex lifted her hand for a kiss.

  As he held onto it way longer than was polite, his dark eyes bored into hers, sending strange shivers up her spine. The guy was making her very uncomfortable—and not in a good way. And yet, she couldn't force herself to look away or pull her hand out of his grasp.

  "Back off, Alex, she is Kian's. And I'm sure you would rather avoid tangling with him," Amanda warned with a wink.

  As if suddenly burnt by it, Alex let go of Syssi's hand so fast it remained suspended in front of her face for a split second before she shook off the stupefied sensation and retracted it to her lap.

  What was that? Syssi wondered at her peculiar reaction to him.

  The shivers and the mesmerizing effect he had on her didn't make any sense, as she didn't find him attractive at all. There was a lascivious quality to his demeanor, and although handsome, he looked too slick and kind of sleazy; like a pushy salesman or a campaigning politician.