by K. Webster
My sister was my everything. She and I had lost so much together. We had been bound by a grief that made our hearts bleed together. It was my responsibility to take care of her, just as my best friend had vowed to at one time. He gave up everything for her and I was hell bent on picking up where he left off. I owed it to him and to her. As soon as college was over, I was going to come back for her and make sure she had the life she deserved—a life Dale and Mom could never give her while they loved the bottle more than they loved her. I’d had it all planned out. Kasey wouldn’t have had to feel hopeless anymore. The heartache would have eventually gone away. I was going to fix my sister and keep her safe forever.
The rage ripples through me, heightened while in Nadia’s presence, but I have to get my emotions in check. To watch her fall, I’ll need her trust and eventual adoration. It will be more climactic. Beautiful. Deserving.
Needing to put my plan into action, I stride over to her, crowding her space. I’m shocked when I inhale the sweet scent of lemon. I half expected her to smell like sour deceit.
“How long have you two been dating?” I question. I’m standing close enough for my breath to blow some of her hair from her face. The urge to push the dark strand out of her eyes is strong.
She lifts her chin and her brown eyes lock onto mine. They widen and dart around almost frantically. You’d think I’d just asked her where she hid a body because the guilt and horror on her face is plain as day.
“A couple of months...like Logan was saying during his um, speech.” Her voice is soft, timid even. I like the way her chest heaves in my presence as if she knows deep down what I’m thinking. Of how I want to obliterate her perfect little life and spit the remains in her face once my dirty work is done.
My eyes become fixated on her lie-spouting mouth. When she swallows, I can’t help but stare at her slender throat. But the moment I see a dark shadow ringing her neck, I furrow my brows. I’m wondering why the fuck she’s slapped on a shitload of makeup to cover up a bruise.
“What’s this?” I ask and drag my finger somewhat forcefully along the bruise, smearing the makeup away.
“¡Mierda!” She winces at the touch, making my cock twitch at her show of pain, and her eyes narrow. “Nothing,” she lies.
I seize her throat with my hand but don’t squeeze. Gently, I press against the bruise and watch with glee as she clenches her jaw in pain. Her bottom lip wobbles and I have the urge to bite it so it’ll stop. Now my cock aches as it stretches the fabric of my slacks, eager to play with the stupid whore.
“What are you hiding?” Dipping forward, I inhale her lemony scent and briefly wonder if she tastes tart or sweet.
“I’m not hiding anything.” More lies. She squirms but I don’t release my grip on her neck. I’m not squeezing her, just simply restraining her.
“Are you happy?” My question carries an angry hiss, my lips just a breath away from hers. I could bite her lip easily right now. The craving to do so is making my entire body tense with need. I want to hurt and punish her.
Her eyes find mine and she nods. “Yes.”
I should hate that she’s happy while my sister is dead somewhere probably in a shallow grave with bugs eating at her remains. But what thrills me is that she’s lying. Her transparency makes her deceit obvious. She’s not happy. And that makes not only my plan easier. It puts a genuine smile of pleasure on my lips.
She deserves to hurt and ache. To cry and scream. Nadia Jayne deserves not one sliver of happiness.
“Liar,” I say with a laugh. “Are you a kinky girl, sweet Jayne?”
Her woe-is-me and I’m-so-fucking-innocent façade falls as she pins me with a glare. “Don’t call me that.”
I throw my head back and laugh at her haughty attitude. “What? Jayne? I thought you loved being Donovan’s little girl? What’s Daddy think about you fucking his friend?”
“That’s enough,” she snaps. Her entire body ripples as if she’s seconds away from clawing my eyes out. But she remains still, a picture of self-restraint.
I wonder what Logan would think if I fucked his sweet little fiancée right up against this door. Made her scream for the entire precinct to hear. Her flawless reputation would be tarnished in minutes and the game would be over.
As much as I’d love to push my dick into her pussy and mutter how much I fucking hate her in her ear, I know I’ll take greater pleasure in her slow demise. She doesn’t deserve for it to all be over in one swoop. I want to cut her only to let her heal. Then, I want to pick her scab over and over again until all her blood has run dry. I want to scar her for life.
Her head is mine to fuck with.
She’s certainly pickled mine the fuck up.
“Awww,” I taunt, my lips near hers. “Sweet Jayne’s getting upset. Who will come to her rescue this time?”
“I don’t need anyone to rescue me,” she seethes. “Especially not some dirty cop who uses his authority to push around women.” The sudden bite in her voice shocks me.
I shake my head in disgust. I’m nothing like that asshole Dale. “I do not push around women.” Just you, Nadia.
“You’re all the same here.”
We glare at each other for a moment. But then she goes to shove me away. I grab her wrist and push it against the door behind her to keep her in place. We’re not done with this conversation.
“Ow,” she yelps and her hard gaze falls. “Don’t push around women, huh?”
“I guess you’re right,” I huff, annoyed that I’m no better than my stepfather at the moment. I’m battling with that inner thought when I become distracted. Warmth surrounds my thumb and I flick my stare over to where my hand covers her wrist. I stare in sick fascination as blood seeps through the white fabric of her cardigan around my thumb.
“You are nothing like what I’ve been told about you from…” she huffs and shakes away her frustration before lifting her chin. Her words become cool. “You’re nothing like your reputation states.”
I grunt at her jab and press into her wound. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to. Are you hurt?” The smile on my face is instantaneous at the sight of her bleeding. She doesn’t fight me when I draw her arm from the door and bring it to me. When I push her sleeve up, she tries and fails to tug it away. I’m stronger and determined to inspect her injury. I don’t bother with being gentle as I unwrap the gauze, my inner monster eager to see her blood. She’s probably cut herself for attention. One of her many tricks.
But when I fully remove the bandage and it drifts to the floor, I’m shocked at what I’m seeing and the smile is wiped right from my face. Rage bubbles inside, although for once, it isn’t aimed at her.
She doesn’t hurt herself. Someone else does.
Teeth marks ravage the flesh and it’s heavily bruised around the bite marks. This wasn’t a simple love bite. Some kinky display of affection.
Someone bit the fuck out of her.
Someone wanted to tear through her like a rabid dog and devour her like a meal.
A growl rumbles in my throat.
“Are you having an affair behind Logan’s back?” I demand, my gaze hardening. The Logan I know doesn’t hurt people. And what would he think if his precious girl was fucking around on him. Maybe ruining her will be a lot easier than I originally thought it would be.
She gapes at me in shock. “Absolutely not and don’t you dare insinuate such a thing.”
I search her eyes for deceit and find nothing. But if she’s not sleeping around, that means he inflicted these bruises. Chief and I go way back. He may be cocky, but he’s not the type to do this shit. Or so I thought…
“Did he do this to you?”
Her eyes flit behind me and I follow her gaze to a picture of my sister on my back credenza. I almost wince in shame. If only Kase could see me now. Would she stare in horror like she would when Dale would beat on Mom? The way Nadia is staring at me now? Swallowing down my discomfort, I avoid placing Nadia and Kasey in the same category.
Nadia is not a victim. I have to keep that fact clear in my head.
“Yes,” she murmurs, her voice quivering with embarrassment, “but I asked him to.”
Our eyes meet again and I furrow my brows together. Her eyes seem to be pleading with me to understand.
“I see,” I say softly. And I do. I see that she’s hiding something. I’m not sure what exactly, but my instinct tells me it has everything to do with Logan. I’ve seen the same look in my own mother’s eyes. Desperation and terror. Despite him being a model leader, hell, even someone I’ve learned to look up to over the past decade, I know everyone has their skeletons. As a matter of fact, I have some pretty fucking scary ones hanging in my own closet. Skeletons I attempt to hide from everyone. It appears that the king here in Aspen has a dirty little secret. Problem is, he knows mine too.
He has to know about my obsession with her.
Of course he fucking knows.
He was one of the responding officers at Kasey’s crime scene. Logan Baldwin has always known she was my sister—and not just because we go way back to when I was a teenager. Logan knows this because my gasoline of vengeance is soaking this cold case, just begging for me to light a fire under it. When I checked out the file from the precinct basement, my name was signed on the log.
His attention to detail is as proficient as mine.
Surely, he knows I’ve been tailing her all these years.
So why in the hell did he hide the fact he was even with her until now? Is this some fucking mind game? I’d thought he’d grown up since becoming a leader in the community. I had long since pushed away how I remembered him as a teen and embraced the man he’d become. Yet now, I can’t help but wonder what’s truly lurking behind Logan’s Cheshire cat grins and good ‘ol boy persona.
One thing’s for sure. I will find out.
Her eyes meet mine and her lip quivers as she glances at the door. When she looks back at me, a chill ripples through her and her eyes flicker with fear. Not fear of me, though. For once in the last goddamned decade, I’m not trying to hurt her. This time, I feel an overwhelming urge to protect her. From him.
Why?
Because she’s mine to destroy.
Not his.
It would be pointless for him to damage her before I get my chance. I can’t wait to see the look on Logan’s face when he realizes he’s been had. When I’m balls deep in his pretty little fiancée and he has to witness the fucking act himself. Two birds, one stone. Mr. Perfect will be revealed for who he truly is—a goddamned woman beater like Dale.
This is going to be fun.
And therapeutic as fuck.
Stepping away from her, I grab a tissue from my desk and wipe her blood from my thumb. She watches me warily.
“I have some work to do,” I tell her as I toss the bloody tissue, which does in fact match her plump crimson stained lips like I thought, into the trashcan. “Stay in here as long as you need.” I swipe my iPhone from the dock and stalk out of the room without another word.
Time to start finally finding some answers.
Once he’s gone, I glance over at Kasey’s picture again. I’d known her brother’s name was Kasper but when he was introduced to me as Ghost, I hadn’t connected those two pieces until I saw his nameplate. This could have been a moment to reach out to him. To befriend him after everything. But it’s clear he has some hate/lust thing going on. I mean, I can understand why he wouldn’t like me, but I don’t understand his intensity or the heated interest in his stare. I could feel it practically rolling from him in waves. He clearly hates me though. I won’t be making friends with him anytime soon.
What is it about me anyway that attracts the wrong type of men?
Do I have a flashing aura around me only they can see?
Mamá used to tell me all the time that our spirits had auras. That you could tell a lot about a person from the kind of light they projected. Mine must blink neon yellow and say “Hey! Over here! Come fuck with me! I’m asking for it!”
It has to be true because Kasper, the not-so-friendly ghost, just proved it. The way he called me sweet Jayne, a term of endearment I’ve only ever heard from one other man, struck an emotional nerve. A harsh and devastating reminder of my past. After a clipped, semi polite goodbye, he stormed out of his office, leaving me to quickly rewrap my wound. The longer he’s away from me, the less my judgment is clouded by his intense presence. Had Logan walked in on whatever it is Kasper and I were doing, he would have been enraged.
And I cannot have Logan lose control.
Not now.
Not ever.
My whole existence revolves around making him happy until the time is right. To get him to trust me just long enough. To watch him slip up just once.
And then I’ll fly in like an avenging angel and take my bloody heart out of his hands once and for all.
“You ready?”
Logan’s deep voice startles me and I nearly drop Kasper’s nameplate. It’s juvenile how they all call him Ghost. Ghost sounds serene and simple and calm. Kasper sounds like the name of a crazy person. More fitting actually.
But despite him acting like a jerk, I can’t help but feel hopeful. A tiny part of me realizes connecting with him could be exactly what I need. He seems like a perceptive man.
“Yes,” I squeak out and cross my arms, careful to hide the blood stain on my cardigan. “Is everything okay?”
My eyes flicker to where he keeps his phone in his breast pocket. One hour. One short fucking hour is all it takes these days to send me into a panic.
He flashes me a wicked, knowing grin before pulling the phone out and tapping a few buttons. “Good thing you reminded me. I almost forgot.” Once he pushes it back into his pocket, I let out a breath of relief.
I smile tightly at him. He never forgets. Ever. Because if just once he did forget, I could make my play. It would be a race against time but if it worked, I could untangle my heart from his and bury him once and for all. But if my play didn’t work in time? If I failed, the cost would be unmeasurable. Brutal. Life-altering. Deadly. And that is exactly why I wait.
“Where’s Ghost?” he questions.
Frowning at his words, I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. He seems like an angry man. I don’t think he likes me for some reason.”
Logan’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes me. “Well, he’s a damn good cop and he did think you stole my truck. I chastised him in front of you. Most men don’t take well to being embarrassed in front of a woman they desire.”
I bristle at his comment and scoff. “He does not...desire me. I think he’d prefer to hurt me if he had the chance.”
Logan’s gaze jerks to mine and he glowers at me. “Only I can hurt you.”
Blinking rapidly, I realize I just let my guard down. For once, Logan wasn’t my nightmare—someone else was—and I easily confided in him like a friend. The mistake is a horrible one I can’t ever make again.
“No,” I agree and launch myself into his arms. “Only you, mi amor.”
His possessive growl calms me. He strides us over to the desk after locking the office door and shoves Kasper’s nameplate out of the way before laying me down on the cool surface.
“What are you doing?” I hiss and my eyes flick over to door.
He laughs but it’s anything but warm and friendly. “I’m fucking you on my subordinate’s desk.”
I want to argue but I’ve already gotten on Logan’s bad side enough in the last twenty-four hours. “What if someone comes in?”
He grabs my hips and flips me over onto my belly. I grab onto the edge of the desk as he pushes my dress up over my ass. “Kasper left. Besides, it’s locked. Nobody’s coming in.”
His fingers hook the top of my panties and he shoves them down my thighs letting them fall to my ankles on their own. I try to focus on Kasper’s meticulously organized office, anything to take my mind from what I suspect Logan’s about to do. There’s no mental preparation that can get me ready for this. I ca
n force myself to get turned on all I want but unless he has lube, which I know he doesn’t, it’s going to hurt like hell.
The key is to focus on anything but the pain.
Turning my head to the side, I stare at a shiny silver pen sitting in a stand. Kasper’s name has been engraved on it and it’s spotless. Completely free of fingerprints or smudges. I try to fixate on the fancy font of the K and ignore the painful way Logan’s dick pokes at the tight ring of muscles between my ass cheeks.
“Is that pen more interesting than me, doll?”
I shake my head in denial but he’s already snatching it from its stand. Snapping my eyes closed, I pray he’s gentle. When I feel the cold metal slide against my clit, I let out a sigh of relief. His free hand grips my ass cheek painfully as he teases my sensitive nub that now begins to throb. Logan either gives me no orgasms at all as a sick form of punishment, or he forces them on me. They’re never for my enjoyment. They’re always a way to torment me.
“You like Ghost’s pen on your pussy?” he taunts. “You like making that mean man pay for upsetting you?” I’m thankful he misinterprets my distaste for his lieutenant as just that, dislike versus the unusual way the man had my heart racing with hope, such a glorious fucking feeling. It was almost like being thrown a life jacket before being tossed to sea. There would be no drowning with someone like Kasper on my side. I just have to figure out a way to get him there.
As much as I’d hated how rude he was with me, I liked the flash of anger in his eyes upon seeing what Logan had done to my wrist. It was as if he wanted to be the one to own me and hated the very fact that another man did instead. Despite his actions, I knew it was something I could work with. I’ve certainly worked with much worse.
“Oh!” I cry out when he pushes the cold metal into my pussy. “¡Jesucristo!” I don’t try to stop Logan’s torturous assault on me. This is his show and at least presently, he’s not hurting me. I can suffer through being fucked with a pen. When his other hand slips from my ass and curls around me to touch my throbbing clit, I let out a small moan.
