His medium brown hair was shaggy, as if he were overdue for a haircut. The messy strands were shot with gold, probably from hours of working outside in the sun, and reached somewhere around collar length. His tousled hair and striking blue eyes gave him a youthful look. If you saw him on the street you would probably think he was a typical nice guy. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Nope. No warnings, darlin’. I suggest you be on your best behavior. I’m a hunter by nature. Might be why I feel so at home with my menagerie here.” He leaned down and took her lips in a long, hungry kiss, then whispered in her ear, “Fucking you last night was like coming home. Think I’m going to need to spend a lot more time buried deep inside you. So we’re going to head over to your place to get your things.”
“What?! I’m not staying here, King.” She was shocked that a guy who looked as good as he did and probably had access to any woman he wanted was wanting to take such a serious leap.
“Whatever. You still need to keep some of your things here. I’m not arguing about it.” He was a man on a mission. He was determined to make sure she kept her mouth shut, but even more than that he was the only thing that stood between her and the Ramirez brothers. He wondered if she understood the danger she was in right now. He couldn’t take chances, so he was taking control of the situation. If he was the only thing between her and death, then he would protect her by any means necessary.
“Do you want more coffee?” she asked, resigned to the fact that arguing with him would do no good.
“Mm-hmm, black,” he said, distracted as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pouty bottom lip. “Damn, you’re pretty. You’re so fucking beautiful. I do believe you’re my Summer. You know what? If we ever go undercover or have to give you a false identity, I think I’ll call you Summer—my daring, beautiful, sweet Summer.”
“Look, King. I’m not looking for a relationship and I’m not looking to go into the Colombian cartel witness protection program, or whatever they do with people who need to hide out or…disappear.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared up at him.
“I don’t care what you’re looking for. You’re mine now. You and I are bound together by murder. First of all, I like what we’ve got going on here.” He moved his finger back and forth between them as an outward sign of what he was saying. “Secondly, if you think I’m letting you out of my sight so you can go to the police, you’re crazy.”
Whether Harley wanted to admit it or not, being on duty the night King killed her patient had put her smack dab in the middle of the Colombian cartel and all the drama that went with it.
“So how did you get mixed up with the Colombian cartel?” she asked.
“Tony Ramirez and I have been friends since we were kids. His dad Ricardo and his uncle are in charge around here. I’m half-Colombian, on my mother’s side. My father is white. I grew up in a Spanish-speaking household. I just fit in with the Ramirez family, I guess. I’ve always been good with animals and when Ricardo had this place built for his wife, they asked me to run it. I moved this house here and had it refurbished. I fell in love when I saw it and I knew I had to have it. Kind of like you. You’ll see; when I want something, I don’t give up and I don’t give in.”
“This is all happening way too fast, King. Way too fast.” She recalled their conversation back when she had figured out that he was responsible for the death of one of her patients, Luis Jimenez.
“I thought you were this mysterious, nice, easygoing guy…I mean, you look like a surfer dude or a frat guy. Guess I was wrong,” she had said piously.
“I can be a very nice guy and, yeah, usually I am,” he had replied patiently. “It’s a good cover and lets me move through polite society unnoticed. But you bring out something much darker in me, Harley. And I may have picked up a tip or two from the Ramirez family, so, really, it isn’t entirely surprising.”
“Happening too fast?” he repeated. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He pulled her in close against his chest and kissed her forehead. “Come on. I’ll give you the tour. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
They walked hand in hand with coffee cups in tow. Outside, the sunshine made her squint and the beauty of nature embraced her like an old friend. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed the freedom of being out in the country. King’s home was welcoming her with open arms like she’d always been there. She’d always been a lover of animals and the outdoors, so being in this environment was as natural as breathing.
He led her into an expansive, single-story structure. The interior walls of which were lined with oversized glass containers, much like aquariums. But the residents of this section of the refuge weren’t fish.
Snakes.
Harley balked as King stepped inside. He reached back and took her hand, gently tugging her along with him. “C’mon. Nothing to be afraid of. These are some of my favorite creatures in the whole world, present company excluded, of course. You’re in a class by yourself.”
They stopped in front of a particularly large display that was set apart from the rest in terms of its size and construction. This was no glass box; this was a large jungle room with a glass wall. King grinned at her. “I want you to meet my baby.”
“Your baby.”
“Mmm-hm. You’ll see what I mean. Let me get her attention. She usually naps around this time each morning. Check this out.” He pressed his cell phone up against the glass and activated the vibration notification setting.
“Okaaaay…” Harley said slowly as the phone rattled and hummed against the glass. “Is something supposed to hap-- Oh. My. God.”
A massive, thick, white snake slithered out from behind a rock and made a beeline over to the glass. King knelt and pressed the palm of his hand against the smooth surface as the snake lifted its head and hovered there. He stood and stepped over to a small metal door in the lower corner of the glass. He made quick work of the locking mechanism. The door slid open and twelve feet of white boa constrictor eased out and settled around King’s muscular frame. The snake’s head drifted in front of King’s face as he spoke to it quietly.
“Did Lola want to come out and see Daddy?” he asked, his voice indulgent and gentle. “Yes, you did. Daddy brought a friend today. I know, baby, I know,” he laughed softly as the top of the snake’s head rubbed under his chin and came to rest against his neck.
Harley’s jaw was slack as she took in the scene in front of her. “King,” she said, her voice soft with awe, “that snake loves you.”
“Damn right, she does. And I love her. Isn’t that right, Lola?” His voice was warm with affection as the serpent continued to lazily explore his ears and neck, finally flicking her tongue toward his smiling lips. To Harley’s amazement, he touched the tip of his tongue with the snake’s. He turned to speak to Harley as he ran his hand down Lola’s body in long, slow, loving strokes.
“This is Lola. We’re sort of a package deal. Love me, love my snake.”
“What makes you think I--”
“Here, hold her. You two need to get acquainted.”
“What?!” Harley shrieked as she jumped back, knocking her shoulder against the glass. She reached up to rub the sore spot and before she could straighten her arm to wave him off, King had Lola winding herself around Harley’s torso. “Sweet shit, King, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get that snake off me!”
“Now, now, just calm down,” he said, with just the hint of an edge to the command. “I won’t have you upsetting Lola. Just take it easy and let her check you out.”
“I w-won’t have me upsetting her either but King, seriously, get her off me.”
“No. You can do this. She’s just a big, beautiful lovebug.”
“Yeah, you say that now, but what’ll you say when she squeezes the air out of me and you have to hide my body, huh?” Harley squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth against the sensation of muscular ripples rolling all over her body as the big snake found purchase around her wais
t and shoulders.
King’s hushed voice somehow broke through her panting breaths. “Open your eyes, darlin’.”
Harley gulped and took a slow breath that sounded more like a sob, then slowly lifted her eyelids. Lola’s strangely beautiful face was hovering just a few inches in front of her own, its tongue flicking lazily.
“She’s saying hi. Say hi back.”
“How do I—King, you have got to be kidding.”
“Go ahead. Say hi. It’s important to me that my girls get along.”
“I’m not your--”
“Harley, stick out your damn tongue and say hello to my snake.”
Harley’s lips pressed into a thin line and she huffed impatiently. “Fine.” She stuck out her tongue as commanded. Initially, her intentions were more than a little sarcastic, but all that changed when Lola leaned in and flicked her tongue against Harley’s once, then twice.
King seemed pleased as he came to stand next to her. “She likes you,” he murmured as he stroked the snake’s head. “I like you.”
Harley no longer felt nervous or frightened. She was too busy noticing small details about the snake and marveling at the intelligence that seemed to shine in its eyes. “Thank you for introducing me to your snake,” she whispered as a small smile curved her lips.
They said their goodbyes and, with Lola securely tucked away in her personal jungle once more, King and Harley explored the grounds. He led her deeper into the complex of buildings and animal enclosures.
“This is amazing, King.”
“Wait until you see the other animals.”
They walked down a cobblestone path toward the back of the property. The next enclosure they came to had primates. Even though they were caged, they didn’t seem to mind because the enclosure was so large and natural. As if he knew what she was thinking, he murmured, “I don’t like the animals to be caged but you can’t allow everything to roam free over the whole property. It wouldn’t be safe for them -- or me.”
Harley laughed when a baboon reached through the bars, opening and closing his hand as if he wanted her to take it. When Harley reached in its direction, King jerked her hand back and the baboon went crazy. It ran over to a milk crate and heaved it at King, beating its chest as it howled and screeched in anger.
“Midas likes blondes. Usually he only tolerates Juanita, Ricardo’s wife, but he definitely likes you.”
“Well, he’s sure pissed at you.” She roared with laughter.
“You think it’s funny now, but that baboon is dangerous. If I went in there right now he’d kick my ass over you.” He pointed at her sternly. “Promise me you won’t try to hold his hand, because if you do he’ll try to jerk your sweet curves right through those bars and I’d have to put a tranquilizer dart in his hairy ass.”
This revelation sent her into another fit of laughter. Midas, however, had clearly moved on. He was now screeching at a female baboon who was huddled fearfully in the corner, clearly fearing for her virtue. But when he noticed Harley still watching him, he loped back over and reached his hand through the bars again.
“Okay, I believe you. He can be a smooth operator when he wants to be.” Even though she was still snickering, she believed what King was telling her. Midas was trying to pull a fast one. Who’d have thought a baboon would have game?
“You can’t have her, Midas; she’s mine.” King pulled Harley in close to him as an outward sign to the primate. As if the baboon understood him, he launched into another tirade, throwing the milk crate at King again.
“And you’re going to taunt him?” she marveled as she punched King in the arm. She exhaled impatiently. “He is mean. How do you feed him? Seriously, you better stop taunting him,” she added. She was still laughing at the absurdity of the two alphas colliding.
“There’s an automatic door that separates the inside portion of the enclosure. The feeder puts their food down after closing it, then comes back out and opens it again. Like I said, that guy’s dangerous.”
“Kind of like you, he looks harmless but he isn’t.”
“Exactly. Don’t ever come out here alone. Always remember that these are wild animals and they’re unpredictable.”
“After seeing this guy, I’m convinced.”
She wasn’t going to voice it but the same held true for King. Harley had spent a lifetime studying her surroundings and those who inhabited it and she already had a read on King.
Chapter Two
“I’m not in the habit of hiring people on the spot, but when you said you had worked with Valentina Vargas, well, I’m her biggest fan,” the hospital’s human resources manager gushed. “Welcome aboard.”
At least the haughty bitch came in handy for something. He smiled his best fake, self-deprecating smile. “Oh, yes, she’s amazing onscreen.” He left out the part about stealing her panties from her dressing room and jerking off in them as he had watched her on TV. He also left out the part about killing her Telenovela rival, a grand gesture that the bitch never appreciated even though he left a note that made it perfectly clear he had done it for her. He had followed her to the States out of sheer devotion. And he wrote the note in blood, for God’s sake. How dense could she be?!
But none of that mattered now. His efforts to impress her had become counterproductive. Valentina had taken up with Victor Ramirez. Her innocence had been forever tainted by the depravity she had embraced by spreading her legs for that arrogant cartel heir. Her loss…
But there was a silver lining after all and its name was Harley. She knew what happened to Luis Jimenez, Valentina’s former manager. And the cartel would want to make sure she didn’t tell the authorities that he had been killed by the cartel’s errand boy, King.
Stan smiled smugly. It was going to be almost too easy. Everyone assumed that Luis had been stalking Valentina out of bitterness for the acrimonious way their business relationship ended. After all, the asshole had tried to make Valentina perform in a softcore porn flick. Hell, if King hadn’t offed Luis, Stan had planned to take care of it himself for trying to put Valentina’s body on display for strangers. He hadn’t realized at the time that that was the only way he’d ever see that body he had wanted for so long. If he had known, he would have moved up his timetable and gotten Valentina under him by whatever means necessary. But she just had to take up with that Ramirez bastard. Too bad, really.
But a man’s got to be practical, so Stan set his sights on bigger and better things. He was going to take down the cartel and make a tidy profit along the way. No one would be expecting Harley to be kidnapped, and they sure as hell wouldn’t want the story of Luis’ tragic death to get to the wrong ears if the police got involved. His plan was simple: he’d take Harley and graciously let the Ramirez brothers buy his silence and hers, then he’d retire to a suitably luxurious tropical island.
When he applied for this job at the hospital, he had debated whether to reveal that he had worked on Valentina Vargas’ Telenovela. Ultimately, he decided to name-drop when the woman doing the hiring and firing had appeared to be wavering unfavorably. His new job as a janitor at the hospital put him one step closer to the woman who shared King’s murderous secret.
What Stan didn’t realize was that Harley was nobody’s fool. She’d grown up surrounded by bikers who taught her to discern someone’s true nature. Her biker dad had taught her to fight like a man and her biker mom had taught her to be a cunning femme fatale. It was a lethal combination.
“So, you’ll start tonight.” The human resources manager and her pompous attitude were getting on his nerves.
Bitch! I might kill you before this gig’s up. “That would be wonderful. I’m so grateful for the job and you won’t be sorry when you see my janitorial skills.” He shot her another fake smile laced with false humility. His new job meant nothing to him other than a way to establish the civilized façade that would ingratiate him to Harley and let him live discreetly in Louisville without attracting undue attention.
However, his
new job paid next to nothing. He had a cash flow problem, but he was pretty sure he knew how to approach that, too. Stan prided himself on his entrepreneurial spirit. From what little he’d already seen of Louisville’s slimy, criminal underbelly, there was always room for another pimp.
He didn’t want the hassle of a big business operation, though. No, something simple would do. Something…exclusive. Maybe just one girl he could keep in a confined setting and bring her out when he had paying customers. It would be easy enough to get the word out, and no doubt Louisville’s cheating spouses would appreciate having easy access to reasonably priced pussy without having to troll the main drag in their cars and risk detection.
His basement would be perfect for his new business, with a few small adjustments that he had already started preparing. All he had to do now was…hire. No shortage of prospective pussy, either, based on a couple of midnight trips downtown. But it couldn’t be just anyone; once he found her, he’d be keeping her ‘on call’ so he needed to find a whore no one would miss. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Once he got himself established with a core group of regular customers to keep the money rolling in, he could focus on his masterplan as it pertained to Harley and the cartel. He would just need to be patient and wait for an opportunity to get that bitch nurse alone. It should be fun, though. Maybe he’d jerk off in a pair of her panties, too.
Chapter Three
“Oh, my God, Harley. You fucked Hospital Hotty.”
Harley looked up at her friend from her seat at the nurses’ station before leaning in to hiss, “Yes. I’m the hospital hussy who fucked Hospital Hotty. Could you say it any louder, Stacy? I don’t think the people in the ER heard you.”
Daring Summer (Colombian Cartel Book 5) Page 2
