by Nicole Fox
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance copyright 2017 by Nicole Fox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.
Contents
AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty – One Year Later
HELLFIRE: A Dark Bad Boy Romance [Bonus Content – Novel]
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Bearing His Baby [Bonus Content – Inside Look]
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Books by Nicole Fox
HELLFIRE: A Dark Bad Boy Romance
Bearing His Baby
Born Sinner
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AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance
By Nicole Fox
I’M AFFLICTED WITH THE NEED FOR CONTROL.
Koen
She chose the wrong man to beg for help.
I’m not the one she wants.
She’s looking for a saint, a nice guy.
But the closest I’ve been to a bleeding heart is when I ripped the organs from my enemies’ chests.
And yet, here she is.
She’s a queen of chaos spinning webs of lies.
But every time I try to dismiss her, she finds a way to stick around.
Fine. Have it your way, princess.
If you’re going to be here, you’re going to do things my way.
You’ll kneel when I order it.
Strip when I ask.
Moan when I command.
This is my world, and as long as you’re in it, you will do exactly as I say.
Jace
I didn’t ask for any of this.
I didn’t ask to be a working girl.
I didn’t ask to watch my pimp murder my little brother in cold blood.
Most of all, I didn’t ask to run away… straight into the arms of Koen Baldwin, the man responsible for this entire sickening operation.
But I never had a choice.
I belong to Koen Baldwin from the moment I meet him.
He’s a sinner, a bastard, a killer, a rogue.
He’s the reason I’m in this nightmare.
So, with nothing left to lose, I’ve got one mission in mind:
I’m going to do whatever it takes to get my revenge.
I’ll sleep with Koen.
I’ll help his business.
I’ll rally his men.
Hell, I’ll wash his goddamn laundry, if that’s what he wants.
But at the end of the day, I’m going to do just one thing:
Send Koen Baldwin to hell where he belongs.
Chapter One
Jace
I twisted the knob of the hotel room door, my face, lips, and body already set in the “You're the most handsome man I've ever met, and no, I'm not just saying that because of the money” style I'd been practicing for the past four years.
I cocked my hips out to one side, arched my back, and pouted my glossy lips. My heavy eye lids dropped another fraction of an inch, making sure my John would get to fully experience my bedroom eyes before we even made it that far, and I ran a hand through my auburn hair to muss my tresses up a little more. Nothing quite like giving them that “just fucked” look before they even get you out of your dress.
“You're early,” I said with a smile as I swung the door open. “I wasn't expecting you for-”
“Jace? Oh my God, I knew that was you in the lobby!” My words caught in my throat as the boy on the other side of the door pushed his way past me and into the room. Dumbfounded, I just watched him as he came into my room. “I just knew it was you!”
Finally, I found my words, despite my shock. “Tommy?” I asked, my mouth finally working.
My little brother, Tomlin Spears, had just pushed himself into the hotel room where I was about to fuck a random stranger. I hadn't seen him in going-on four years, ever since I'd run away from the house the night of Momma's funeral. And, wow, he'd changed. He'd grown almost a foot, it seemed, and his face had started to really look like our Daddy's. Same cheek bones, same strong jaw, same dark brown eyes. Now sixteen-years-old, he looked down at me for the first time in our lives.
My heart leaped for joy even as it sunk deep in my chest. He had no idea who I really was anymore, or what I had to do to make it in this world.
Four years can be rough, especially when you start that time by living on the streets. I'll say one thing, though. Paying for rent by working on your back is a hell of a lot easier than living under an overpass. Especially when the rains start up in spring.
He looked around the room, taking the whole thing in. “Sis, you're doing real well here, ain’tcha?” he asked as he ran a long, graceful hand through his tussled brown hair. I'd gotten Momma's dark red hair, he'd gotten our Daddy's brunette. We'd both gotten her lips, though, the little cupid's bow.
“Tommy,” I said, going over to him, my legs wobbling a little in my high heels,
“you gotta go. You gotta get outta here.”
“Why?” he asked. “Think Jeremy's right behind me or something?”
“Well, yeah,” I said. Jeremy Brantley was our abusive stepfather, the one I'd been running from after Momma died, and the thought had occurred to me. But only mildly. My bigger concern, honestly, was that I was on a job just then. The next man at my door was going to be either my next John, or my pimp Sven. It wouldn't do to have either of them walking in while Tomlin was here, even if he was my little brother.
“Don't worry, sis,” he said, coming over to me, arms outstretched for a hug. “He's in jail, and he ain't coming back. Bastard's going to prison”
“What?” I asked, shocked for the second time that night, as my brother took me into his arms and gave me a huge hug, the type of hug I hadn't felt in years. It was the type of hug only a kid brother can give an older sister. Warm and strong, with no judgment or malice. The kind of hug that told you the hugger couldn't care less about your past, or that you may have let them down all those years ago.
It was just the kind of hug that said, “I love and miss you.”
I rested my painted-up face against his chest, felt some of my base and powder come off on his shirt.
“He was driving drunk,” he said, and I could almost hear the grin in his voice, “and hit a cop car.”
I stifled a laugh and pulled back from his chest. I looked up into those dark brown eyes of his, marveling at the way they matched mine so perfectly. Four years, come and gone.
“So, you can come home, Jace,” he said, squeezing my shoulders. “If, you know, you want to.”
I stepped back, breaking his grip, and turned away from him. “Tommy,” I said.
“Or, you know, you don't have. I could come out here, you know.”
For a moment, I realized how much I wanted to go home, to go be with him, or to bring my little brother our here to New Orleans with me. He was alone now, with our stepfather going to prison.
Sure, Jeremy was an abusive piece of shit and a total creep. The reason I'd left . . . let's just say a father shouldn't look at his daughter that way. They'd been bad before Momma passed, but were steadily getting worse even before we put her in the ground. But, with Tomlin, at least he'd just beat him. He'd still made sure he went to school, had a roof over his head.
Now, who was going to do that? Who was going to take care of my little brother? Me?
I bit my lower lip. Yeah. Me. I could do it. I just had to get away from Sven, first. Hell, I'd run from Jeremy four years ago. Why couldn't I just run from Sven, too?
“Jace?” Tommy asked from behind me. “You okay, sis?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling a little. My brother. I realized then how much I'd tried to stop missing him so much, and how I'd finally managed to. I turned around, that little smile still on my lips. “You're right. Let's go. Lemme grab my purse.”
“Just like that?” Tommy asked, grinning from ear to ear. His sister had just come back to him, of course, and he sure as Hell had a reason to smile that way. “But, you've got this room for the night.”
I chuckled a little, shaking my head at my brother naivety. I went over and grabbed my purse, then put my hand in his and tugged wholeheartedly for the door.
“Why not just stay here?” he asked as I looked back at him.
“Because, silly,” I said. “If you're going to start a new life, why wait? Just go and do it!”
He laughed, his voice happy and full, echoing in the room. “Sure, Jace. Yeah, you're right, let's get going.”
My hand went for the door handle, but stopped half-way. I heard the lock's electronic tumbler disengage with a loud click as someone inserted a keycard into the room's reader.
“What's up?” Tommy asked.
“Bathroom,” I said, my voice a quiet hiss as I turned and began to shove him in the room's bathroom. “Get in the bathroom and don't come out.”
“Jace,” my brother said, his voice lower than before but still too loud. “What the fuck're you doing, sis?”
“Just stay in here and shut the fuck up,” I hissed again.
There was only two men who would be opening the door like this. My next John, or Sven, my pimp. Having Tommy in the room with me if it was the first one wouldn't be too bad, but having him here with the second would be suicide.
“Jace?” Sven asked from behind me as I shut the bathroom door on my little brother. His thick, Russian accent filled the room with its bravado.
“Right here,” I said, surprising him from being so close.
Sven was tall and lean, like an old fence post. Scars covered his hands and, even in the well-tailored suits he always seemed to wear, he looked like a thug. Something about the way he walked, the way he appraised a room or the men he met on the street, like he was sizing everything up to see what kind of threat you would be. And, if you weren't determined a threat, too bad. That just meant you were easy prey. Tonight, with his black suit and gray shirt, he looked even more like a predator than usual. Like a lean wolf, or a hungry shark swimming around the beach.
He took a step back and looked me up and down, like he was appraising me and my looks, determining whether I was up to his snuff.
Sven had picked me up from another pimp a year or so before. I wasn't sure of the exact details, just that he'd shown up at the apartment I shared with one of the other girls, and told us there were going to be changes. When Benji, my roommate and best friend, asked about what happened to Clyde, our old manager, Sven just told us not to worry. Clyde wasn't around anymore. He'd had an accident.
There wasn't a funeral, and nobody was ever found. We never reported him missing, either. Clyde had been kind of a dick, and hadn't exactly been gentle if you were short on money. Sven, though, made lots of threats. But at least he never beat us.
With his eyes poring over my body, I sucked in my stomach a little, lifted my chin higher, pushed my shoulders farther back. I knew I was hot, I knew I was dripping sex appeal. I just hoped it was good enough for Sven, good enough to satisfy him so Tommy and I could get out of here.
“You alone here, koshechka?” he asked.
“Yeah, Sven,” I lied, “of course I am.”
“I heard a man,” he said. “No man in here?”
“No,” I said, furiously shaking my head. “My John hasn't shown up yet.” God, if he found Tommy in the bathroom, I didn't know what he'd do. Beat him? Toss him out? I'd probably get some of his fists, too.
His eyes bored into mine, seemed to reach into my soul.
Inwardly, I was sweating bullets. Outwardly, I just shrugged. I bit my lip a little, tried smiling to reassure him.
“Dah,” he said, nodding a little. He pushed past me and went to stand in the middle of the room, just like Tommy had a scant few minutes before. He turned to me and made a gesture with his hand, ordering me to turn around for him. He liked to inspect his wares before they were delivered.
I spun around for him, my skirt riding up a little on my butt.
“Good,” he said. “Very good. Want you pristine, perfect for The Boss when he get here.”
“The Boss?” I asked as I took a step forward, my curiosity piqued despite my nerves being on edge about my little brother hiding in the bathroom. “Who's the Boss?”
“Tony Danza,” he said, laughing.
I shook my head, not getting the reference. “Tony Who-za?”
“Joke, joke,” he said as he shook his head and rolled his eyes. He took his phone out, fiddled with it for a moment as he spoke. “Old American TV show. Here, this the Boss.” He handed me the phone, a picture of a man pulled up on the screen.
I felt an almost unfamiliar tingle as I looked over the image in front of me. He was handsome, with chestnut hair combed back from his face and pale blue eyes. His beard was full, but trimmed well, and I could see how strongly defined his jaw was. Something about him just had a devil-may-care attitude to it, too. Maybe it was the way his full lips were set, almost like they were in a p
ermanent half-smirk.
Whatever the reason, I immediately thought to myself that being a working girl sometimes had its perks. It might even be worth it to stick around one more night, if it meant I got to meet a man like the Boss for once. I could leave with Tommy in the morning, just as well as I could right now. Right?
Sven must have seen the look in my eyes, because he let out a deep chuckle as he pried the phone out of my hands and took it back. “Ready for the Boss when he come? Yes?”
“Yeah, Sven,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest.
He passed me and headed off to the door, grabbed the door's handle. “Good,” he said. “You my number one koshechka, Jace. Real good girl, eh?”
“Yeah, Sven,” I said as I joined him at the door. “Number one,” I said, nodding.
Satisfied I was both alone and ready, he pulled the door open and went to leave.
“Home free,” I thought. One more night, maybe, but free after that. Now, all I needed was Sven to walk out that door, then I could push my kid brother out after him.
I took a deep breath. Home stretch. We got this.
But then, it all came apart. Tomlin sneezed. There's nothing out there like a sneeze, no sound of plumbing or a fan coming on that could be mistaken for it.
