Hunted

by Sharon C. Cooper

  “Hold your head down some,” Geneva said, trying to curl the back of Journey’s hair. “Almost done.”

  The loud chime on the door sounded.

  “Sorry, we’re closed,” she called out just as she was finishing the last lock of hair.

  “Then why isn’t the door locked?”

  Geneva’s hand stilled. She’d recognize the deep rumble of that voice anywhere.

  She placed the curling iron back into its holder, then glanced over the half wall that separated the styling area from the waiting room. Heat soared through her body at the sight of the man she couldn’t get out of her system.

  Goodness.

  After the watered-down it’s me, not you speech he spouted before leaving town, she hadn’t expected to see him. At least not until the next time one of their mutual friends had a cookout or some type of party. Yet, here he was…in her shop…looking sexy as sin.

  Dressed in a leather jacket with a gray T-shirt underneath and black jeans and Timberland boots, he looked good enough to eat. Everything about the man screamed badass. That laid-back, devil-may-care vibe that was such a part of him was in full force.

  “Hey, Myles,” Journey said as Geneva removed the black salon cape from around her.

  “What’s up, Journey? It’s good seeing you.” Myles hugged her and placed a kiss on her cheek, but his gaze was on Geneva.

  Very little made her nervous, but she had to keep herself from fidgeting under his perusal. She broke eye contact and glanced at her salon station, where she noticed Journey had left money. Geneva never charged her, but the woman insisted on paying.

  “Well, I’m gonna get out of here and let you two catch up. Gen, walk me to the door,” Journey said, humor radiating from her eyes.

  When they reached the door, Geneva returned Journey’s cash and lifted her hand when her sister opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t say a word about him. I don’t want to hear it. Just take your money and go.”

  “Talk to him…” Journey managed to say before Geneva pushed her out the door.

  When she turned, Myles was standing in the middle of the styling area, his arms folded across his chest. Maybe it was his rugged badass swagger that attracted her. A former underground MMA fighter, something he did during college to make extra money, he still kept in shape. He wasn’t a big, bulky man like some of the security specialists he worked with, but at six feet tall with a lean, muscular build, he was still intimidating.

  Right now, his dark gaze bore into her. He didn’t speak, didn’t smile, just stood there with an all-too-familiar unreadable expression. It was sexy and irritating at the same time. The indecipherable mask probably served him well while he was with the CIA. Though he had never confirmed or denied it, she’d heard that he’d been a spy. Whatever training he’d gone through probably enhanced his ability to always appear cool, calm, and confident.

  Like now. The look was suddenly grating on her nerves and pissing her off.

  She yanked the door back open. “You’re not welcome here. Get the hell out.”

  Chapter Two

  Unfazed by Geneva’s order to leave, Myles let his gaze travel the length of her. Though sometimes he hated how seductively she dressed, he couldn’t deny that she was one gorgeous woman.

  Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun just the way he liked. Knowing she had a sexy body with curves in all the right places, Geneva never hesitated to show off her hourglass figure. She seemed to revel in the attention she attracted. The fitted, black long-sleeved shirt with a plunging neckline accentuated her more-than-a-handful breasts that he was very familiar with. His gaze slid over her narrow waist and moved down to the holey, bleached washed jeans that revealed more skin than they covered.

  Geneva sighed loudly, and his attention shot back up to her lovely face. Her golden-brown skin glowed beneath the overhead lights, only bringing more attention to her scowl.

  She released the handle and let the door close, then crossed her arms. “What do you want, Myles?”

  That was a loaded question. He could give her a list of everything he wanted from her, but that would defeat the whole purpose of putting distance between them.

  “Laz sent me to lock up with you, but first, I need a haircut.” He also needed a shave, but he’d take care of that once he got home.

  When he received the work assignment to go to Los Angeles, Myles thought it couldn’t have come at a better time. Not only did he get to spend a little time with his brother Ray, a doctor in the Hollywood Hills, but he needed time away from Geneva. A two-week break from the stunning beauty in front of him was supposed to help him forget her.

  Instead, Myles found himself thinking of her day and night.

  That never happened.

  He didn’t get attached.

  While with the CIA, he traveled constantly. There had been no time to build deep connections that weren’t work-related. That hadn’t changed since he left the agency a few years ago and started working for Supreme Security. At least not until he and Geneva hooked up.

  His first mistake.

  Falling for her was the second.

  Breaking things off hadn’t gone as planned. Ordinarily, he could move on from a woman without thinking twice, but Geneva wasn’t easy to walk away from. There was a charged energy that surrounded him whenever they were near. Like now. She might’ve been shooting daggers at him with her eyes, but all that did was turn him on more.

  Which meant he clearly needed to have his head examined.

  “I don’t need your help in locking up,” Geneva snapped.

  Now he was the one sighing. He’d only been back in Atlanta for a couple of hours and hadn’t even had time to go home yet. Laz had called a short while ago, telling him that the strip mall where Geneva’s shop was located had been having problems with thugs hanging around. It was after nine o’clock at night, and neither of them thought it was a good idea for her to lock up the place alone.

  Stopping by seemed like a good idea at the time. He’d get to see her for a minute, as well as make sure she was safe. But seeing Geneva again only intensified his desire to be near her.

  He had it bad for the woman. The worse part was that he was treading into new territory and wasn’t sure what to do with his feelings.

  “Oh, and our barber won’t be in until tomorrow morning at nine. Do you want me to add you to his schedule?” She turned and walked away.

  “No. I want you.”

  She stopped short, whipped around, and glared at him. His words came out wrong, but that’s what he was feeling. He wanted her. Plain and simple.

  His attraction to Geneva was more than about sex, which he’d admit was amazing. Everything about the woman turned him on. Her wit, her fierceness, and there was a sweetness about her that not too many people got a chance to see.

  Yeah, Myles wanted her in his life, which was such a bad idea. His world wasn’t conducive to long-term connections. It wasn’t that he couldn’t commit to a monogamous relationship, because he could. He just didn’t want to for more reasons than he cared to explain to her.

  “I want you to cut my hair,” Myles finally said and walked past her to hang his jacket on the hook next to her smock. Then he sat in her chair. The way she was glowering at him didn’t go unnoticed. Letting a pissed-off woman cut his hair might not be one of his smartest moves.

  “Myles, I’m not doing this with you. I—”

  “Gen, just cut my hair.”

  “What makes you think I have time to cut your hair?”

  “Because you’re just standing around. Besides, no one was in your chair.”

  Facing the mirror, Myles didn’t miss the various emotions flashing across her face. She might not be happy that he was there, but he hadn’t missed the longing in her eyes when he first arrived. Geneva wasn’t good at hiding her feelings. As a matter of fact, she usually said whatever was on her mind. Except now…she seemed conflicted.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “The sooner y
ou get started, the sooner we can get out of here.”

  “Sometimes I can’t stand you,” she grumbled.

  He chuckled and turned back around to face the mirror.

  Geneva rolled her eyes and shook out a cape before draping it around him and fastening it at the back of his neck.

  “So, how would you like it done?”

  “You already know how I like it.”

  “You know what? You’re pushing it. How the hell do you want your hair cut? And just answer my fucking questions without making everything sound so damn suggestive!” she snapped.

  “That mouth of yours…” Myles shook his head and spun the chair around to face her. Unable to stop himself, he tugged on the front of her shirt and drew her to him. He held her chin, keeping her from moving away. God, he wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t. “What’d I tell you about the vulgar words that you let slip between those gorgeous lips?”

  She swallowed hard, and her gaze jockeyed from his mouth to his eyes and back to his mouth again.

  His heart thudded against his chest. If either of them acted on what they both clearly wanted, there would be no turning back. They both had agreed that a committed relationship wasn’t what they wanted. One of them had to be strong, and at the moment, Myles wasn’t sure it could be him.

  Geneva braced her hand on the arm of his chair. The fresh, seductive scent of her fragrance danced around him, adding to the struggle to keep his distance. His barely controlled willpower teetered.

  “If you quit pissing me off, then you won’t be subjected to my vulgar words, as you call them,” she ground out between gritted teeth.

  Myles’s lips twitched. He couldn’t fight the grin that broke through. She had a quick temper, but he loved her fire. “Just tighten my hair up around the ears and line up the back,” he said.

  Geneva stepped out of his hold and turned his chair back around to face the mirror where she stared at him. Seconds ticked by before she huffed out a breath and grabbed her clippers.

  Twenty minutes later, she was done. Just as she removed the cape from around him, the door chimed. Myles assumed she had locked it. Apparently not.

  Unease clawed through him. It was too late for anyone to be stopping by, and the way the chair was positioned, he couldn’t see the visitor.

  He started to reach into his back pocket where he’d stored his switchblade, but Geneva squeezed his shoulder, stopping him. The person came into view.

  Reuben Jackson.

  He smiled at Geneva, and Myles stiffened. His protective instincts went on high alert. He wasn’t a confrontational person, but the way the man was leering at her, Myles wanted to snatch him up and toss him through the nearest window.

  “Hey, beautiful. Can I holler at you for a minute?” Reuben asked, his toothy grin spreading wider.

  Myles hated the guy. Not because he knew him personally—he didn’t—but the man’s reputation preceded him. A friend of Myles had an encounter with Reuben and some of his friends years ago that landed him in the hospital. At over six feet tall, Reuben was powerfully built, and looked like he should’ve been on a professional football team. Instead, he’d spent much of his life with the Minauros Devils, one of Atlanta’s most dangerous gangs. Reuben had ended up doing a stint in jail for a different crime. After his release, he somehow managed to leave the gang life and the city. A year ago, he returned to Atlanta.

  “Now’s not a good time,” Geneva said to Reuben as she used a neck duster to brush hair off of Myles’s collar. “Give me a call later.”

  “Come on, baby.”

  Myles’s blood heated as it rushed through his veins. He didn’t want her with any man, but he sure as hell didn’t want her to be anywhere near Reuben Jackson. Some claim he had cleaned up his act. Myles doubted it. The man still associated with his old crew, which told Myles all he needed to know.

  Reuben moved a little closer, made eye contact with Myles, but returned his attention to Geneva. “You don’t have a minute?”

  “No, I don’t,” she bit out.

  Now both of her hands were gripping Myles’s shoulders. Could she sense the tension building inside of him?

  “Right now is not a good time,” she repeated with authority.

  Myles couldn’t see her face, but the way Reuben’s shoulders sagged, it was safe to say she was giving him that death stare that she had mastered.

  He threw up his arms. “Fine. I’ll call you later.”

  The moment Reuben walked out of the shop, Myles bolted from the chair. Geneva startled when he got in her face, their noses almost touching.

  “Stay the hell away from him,” he said in a low growl.

  Momentarily stunned, she stared at him with wide eyes. But that shocked expression quickly turned into rebellion.

  “What you ain’t gon’ do is come up in my shop and tell me who I can and can’t see. Besides, what do you care who I hang out with? You’re no longer interested. Remember?”

  She moved away from him, but he gently grabbed her arm. “I mean it, Geneva. Stay the hell away from—”

  She shook out of his hold and went to lock the door. “You telling me not to do something is like telling me to go for it. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Myles said nothing, and if he clenched his teeth any tighter, they were going to crack. What could he say? He had no claims on this woman, even if there was a part of him that felt like she was his.

  “I’m sorry.” The words felt like sandpaper on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had apologized to someone. “You’re right. What you do is none of my business, but just because you and I aren’t…we’re not…”

  The rest of the words stuck in his throat. They might not be a couple, but the possessiveness he felt when it came to her made it hard not to claim her as his own.

  “You know what? Do what you want.” He slipped into his jacket. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “You’re right. It’s none of your business, but for the record, I’m not involved with Reuben. He and I used to hook up years ago. Despite what you think of him or what you’ve heard, he’s actually a nice guy. He’s cleaned up his act.”

  “Yeah, if you say so. From what I’ve heard…”

  The faint sound of a car alarm at the back of the building could be heard where they stood.

  Geneva growled under her breath. “That sounds like my car.” She stomped past him, but Myles stopped her before she opened the back door.

  “Give me your keys and wait here.”

  “Dang, you have a bad habit of telling me what to do.” She mumbled something Myles couldn’t decipher, but then she pulled keys from the back pocket of her jeans and handed them to him.

  He was glad when the phone in her office rang. Otherwise, she would’ve followed him out.

  Myles unlocked the wood door that led to the alley behind the building and slowly inched it open. A gust of chilly air kissed his warm cheek as he started to step out into the night, but he stopped.

  His skin prickled, igniting all of his senses and putting him on high alert. Not because the car alarm was blaring like crazy. No, it had everything to do with instinct. Someone was on the other side of the door.

  Illumination came from a single light bulb overhead and a couple of light poles down the alley. Still, it wasn’t enough light to see through the small opening.

  As a former spy, listening to his gut kept him alive on many dangerous assignments. He still relied on that and the sixth sense, an extrasensory awareness, that he’d been born with.

  Instead of opening the door further, Myles kept it propped open with his foot. He couldn’t see anyone, but he felt their presence. He let the alarm continue squawking and hoped Geneva would stay in her office a little longer. Pocketing her keys, he wasn’t sure what to expect in the alley. But instead of pulling the gun from his ankle holster, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade, his preferred weapon.

  Without another thought, Myles shoved the door o
pen, slamming it against the person behind it.

  “Owww,” someone shrieked in pain, and Myles eased into the alley. He barely had time to dodge a fist aimed for his face.

  Pulse pounding loudly in his ears, he blocked the half-assed punch with his forearm. With his free hand, he landed a left hook against the man’s jaw. The blow was hard enough to stun the person but not hard enough to break anything.

  The guy howled in pain and stumbled back, holding his jaw. Myles ignored the blood streaming from the man’s nose. Anger crackled inside of him and drove him forward. The bastard had been out there waiting for Geneva. He deserved an ass-kicking.

  Myles swept his leg out, catching the man at the ankle and knocking him off his feet. He didn’t care that the man was howling. He started to kick him while he was down but stopped when realizing he was just some punk kid. The pimply-faced teen couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

  “Get your ass up,” Myles demanded. He shoved the knife back into his pocket and shut off the car alarm.

  The kid staggered to his feet while bleeding all over himself. Myles didn’t want to kill the worthless piece of crap, but he definitely wanted to teach him a lesson.

  “Get off of him!” Shouts came from behind Myles.

  He whipped around in time to see two teens charging toward him. On reflex, he lifted his right knee, pivoted slightly, and quickly extended his leg in a spinning roundhouse kick. His booted foot caught the taller one in the left ear. It threw the kid off balance, sending him crashing into the shorter guy before falling face-first to the ground. The short, stocky kid scrambled to his feet. Before he could take a step toward Myles, the back door swung open. Myles spotted a black aluminum bat before Geneva made an appearance.

  “Are you shitting me?” she screamed at the top of her lungs and turned her attention to the kid standing a foot away from her. “Y’all punk-asses busted out windows of a vintage Mustang?” Within a heartbeat, she swung the bat like a major league baseball player, catching the guy in the back and knocking him into the building.