Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Worse, I was now at Phantom’s mercy. Thanks to my curiosity and his threat. He’d led me to a dimly lit side alley between buildings. At least the space was clean except for an overflowing dumpster.

  “What? You’ve got me alone in the dark. Say what you’re so intent on saying. And don’t think I didn’t mean what I said. I’m starving and Minnie will call the cops.”

  He shook his head, planting a palm against the wall and leaning into me, his expression smug.

  Crap. I’d let him back me into the wall, literally. It was my turn to shake my head.

  “That girl is not calling the police. She’s way too into Howler to notice when five minutes is up. Besides, what I have to say won’t take that long.”

  “I’m waiting.” I tried to sound tough despite my racing heart and rubbery legs.

  He had me caged in, and instead of feeling frightened, I was turned on...big time. His breath was warm and tinged with the scent of beer. And that leather and oil smell was like an aphrodisiac. It took all my self control not to squirm under his heated gaze.

  And it was heated. The longer we stared at each other the darker and hungrier his gaze became.

  His other palm hit the wall. And he took another step forward, until we were toe to toe. With his mouth inches from mine, I fought the urge to close my eyes and part my lips.

  “You need to drop out of Randall Academy. Forget this town and anything you think you know about me. I promise if you stay, your life will be a living hell. Nothing personal, of course.”

  “Nothing personal? This feels pretty fucking personal.” I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move. I tried to edge to the right, and he blocked me. “You’re basically threatening me. I don’t even know you. What have I done to make you hate me?” I felt tears forming and blinked them back.

  Instead of some cocky comeback, his mouth crashed over mine. I clutched his leather jacket and pushed, but at the same time opened my mouth and welcomed his tongue in for a duel.

  He growled and pressed against me, leaving no doubt how aroused he was. I wasn’t fairing any better, lost in a swirl of unrelenting sensations.

  The minute I relaxed, he pulled back and wiped his mouth on his hand. “Get the fuck out of here, Frankie. Trust me. You don’t want to stay.”

  He stomped off, leaving me panting in the alley alone. The tears I’d been holding back, trailed down my cheeks. What the hell just happened?

  I pushed off the wall eager to grab Minnie and go. I’d lost my appetite.

  A crunch, like a foot on gravel, stopped me. Spinning around, I searched the shadows. Pins and needles danced down my spine. Someone was out here.

  The sound of an aluminum can being squeezed and crushed, ignited my flight response, and I bolted from the alley.

  Maybe Phantom’s warning carried a greater threat than I’d realized.

  I practically fell through the restaurant door. Minnie was alone in a booth; the guys gone.

  My feet carried me to the table and I collapsed. I had some major decisions to make...and soon.

  My phone chirped. I raised a hand to keep Minnie from asking questions and pulled the cell out.

  Susan: Everything ok? Did you survive day one?

  I closed my eyes and considered her questions.

  Frankie: Survived, barely. I might come home. I couldn’t believe my text, but Susan was the person I was always honest with.

  Susan: Whatever you decide, I’m here for you.

  I stared at my phone, puzzled. I appreciated her support but had expected her to launch into a never-give-up-speech.

  Frankie: I’ll keep you posted. Talk later.

  Hearts and sad face emojis from Susan.

  So much for a bestfriend pep talk...whatever. I didn’t need a cheering squad. I needed a big fucking cheeseburger and fries. My hunger had returned, growling its demand for food.

  Phantom and his friends could kiss my ass. I wasn’t giving up so easily. They’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get in my head. Nothing and no one would push me out of Randall. It was less than a year. I could hang on that long no matter what they dished out. If my father had taught me anything, it was that you had to go to any length to defeat your challengers.

  I touched my swollen lips, courtesy of Joey’s kiss. I’d never been kissed like that before. And considering our rivalry, panty-melting tongue battles were off the menu.

  Forget the kiss. Forget the four kings. For once, I agreed with my silent voice.

  It was time to bring the slap-down out of retirement. Only this time, I’d strategize. No more impulsive emotional reactions.

  I’d not only survive. I would win this war.

  Epilogue

  I followed Francesca and her new friend at a distance. It was a joke how easy bypassing the school’s security had been.

  Guards without vigilance were useless. They weren’t expecting someone like me to be a problem. I was invisible to them.

  I intended to keep it that way. Invisibility would serve me well.

  My job was simple. Make sure our investment was protected and ensure the service we’d procured was implemented as directed and in a timely manner. Blind trust, even when someone came highly recommended, was foolish.

  This was a game to me. It always had been. But as much as I enjoyed playing, I preferred winning over all else.

  In this case, losing wasn’t an option. Too much money, too much time, and a ton of lives had been spent to guarantee we came out victorious.

  So far, everything was moving in the right direction. I’d make sure no one strayed off the game board, though I wouldn’t hesitate to remove a player if necessary.

  Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. We’d chosen our players wisely.

  Game on.

  The End (For now)

  ENJOYED THIS STORY? Be sure to leave a review! You can also preorder Slap Back: Randall Academy Book 2 - A Bully to Bullied Romance. https://books2read.com/u/m2Vv9O

  And don’t forget to download Scorched Souls: The Complete Saga for FREE February 1 to February 4 and discover Phantom’s and Howler’s MC Club History! Just $.99 for the rest of February 2020. https://books2read.com/u/38EJEd

  About the Author

  C.L. RILEY CALLS HERSELF a genre-confused author because she writes in multiple genres. She’s written dark romance, paranormal and fantasy romance, and reverse harem romance. Her stories have one thing in common—wicked bad boys and the strong women who love them. And readers can expect suspense and surprises in every story. She makes her home in Portland, OR, and is addicted to ice cream and popcorn...and reading.

  Want to hang out with the author, win book prizes, see the cool covers first, and support her books on social media? Join her new group: Riley in Readerland – A Refuge for Rebel Romance Readers.

  You can also subscribe to C.L. Riley’s News Letter here.

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  Read More of C.L. Riley’s Books

  A MAN SCORNED

  Larissa Scot

  About A Man Scorned

  Out of a dark and twisted past, Elizabeth claws her way to the top of the corporate food chain, only to be shoved back down into the hole Michael thinks she belongs in. At the height of their rekindled passions for each other, something goes terribly wrong, and one of them is to blame. Now she must fight him, and her base urges for him, to regain her rightful place on top.

  Chapter One

  My fingers grip the steering wheel, so hard the tips turn white. Seeing them reminds me I forgot to paint my nails. Still, I can’t let up. If I do, I’ll give in and stop. Then I’ll turn the car around and never go back to that place again.

  I should be happy. Today should be the best day of my professional life. Everything I’ve worked toward, everything I’ve sacrificed and overcome; the people I abandoned. It’s all for this. All for toda
y.

  And yet, my foot falters on the gas pedal and the car slows. The closer I get to Hwy 74, where I know I’ll see my company’s obnoxiously large billboard pointing to our offices, the more anxious I become. The traffic light turns yellow and the car ahead of me speeds up to beat it. Instead of doing the same, as I normally would, I make a bargain with myself. Maintain my speed and if it’s red when I get to it, I’m allowed to turn right and go back home. Let fate handle it.

  The urge to let up off the gas completely is more than I can bare, and I tell myself it’s an accident when my flowered strappy sandal slips off the pedal. I recover quickly, just in time to glide through the still yellow light.

  With a calming breath, I psych myself up for my first day as Excel Engineering Corp’s youngest, and first female, Director of Mechanical and Pneumatics. I have no idea how they’re going to fit that on my business cards. I wonder if I’ll get one of the nice cards, like all the VPs have, with the shiny embossed gold lettering. Between that and the new corner office, it’s almost worth all the flack I’ll get from the guys.

  And there it is.

  Just like that, my heart races and I’m willing the car engine to explode before the next half mile to the office. Unfortunately for me, since I oversee the company vehicles in my department, I know this one is in perfect working order. Nothing with my signature of approval would be any other way.

  My heart gets another jolt when I pull into the parking lot and see that there’s one space left. Of course, it’s beside Michael Renzo’s gold Porsche. “That’s what you get for dilly dallying, Beth,” I say in an imitation of my dad, as I lock the car door and be extra careful not to let the buckle on my purse scrape his pristine paint job. Things are already bad enough between us. I don’t need another reason for him to hate me.

  A loud shrieking alarm screams in my ear. I jump and spill my coffee down the front of my new coral blouse. The tips of my golden blond curls, that I worked so hard on this morning, are now tinted dark brown like a bad dye job. The cup goes flying and rolls under my car. Without thinking, I bend over to pick it up, and watch in slow motion as all the files in my satchel spill into the hot black puddle at my feet.

  I want so badly to get back in my car and drive off. I also want that damn alarm to stop blaring! I spin around, fearing the worst, and expecting to see a large gash across Michael’s side panel. Instead, what I see is Michael himself, doubled over in laughter, with his key fob in his hand.

  “I knew you didn’t get the promotion fair and square, but a wet t-shirt presentation? That’s low, even for you, Elizabitch.” Michael’s plump red lips spread in a maniacal grin. His deep green eyes search my face for the telltale flush. He knows how much I hate that nickname. You yell at one intern and suddenly you’re that kind of female in power.

  Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cringe, I take a moment to compose myself and slap on an equally wide smile. “Gotta use ‘em while I still got ‘em.” I immediately regret slipping back into my old self with such ease, but it’s too late. I gather my things and walk past Michael, head high.

  When I pass him, I vow to let go of all my previous fears. I will make today the best, most productive, first day of a new position that anyone’s ever seen. I deserve it. I will figure out a way to clean up this coffee spill before the first staff meeting. And most importantly, I will not think about how delicious he smells right now. He knows I can’t concentrate when he wears that cologne.

  Chapter Two

  It’s been nearly two hours of nonstop packing and unpacking and arranging...and rearranging, but I finally have my new corner office in decent working order. Things are not in their proper places, but this will have to do. I have so much work to —

  “Ms. Covington?” My assistant, Henry, peeks his head through the door. I still can’t believe I have an assistant. And why did they have to get me such a young one? At twenty-two, he’s barely younger than I am. Every time I hear him say ‘Ms. Covington’ I look around for my mother. “Yes?” I minimize the email I’d been sending to Senior Sweets, one of our biggest clients, regarding an emergency breakdown at their plant. Day one and I’m already putting out fires left behind from our previous department head.

  “The techs are in the breakroom, ma’am.” Henry waits for some signal of approval. I smile and wave him away so he can scurry off. I push back from my desk and make a mental not to talk to him about that ma’am business. That’s not really how we roll here, which he’s about to find out fast in this meeting.

  As I enter the breakroom, my first instinct is to head over to the small round table in the far corner, where Michael and I used to sit together. We’d whisper and text snide comments back and forth to each other about Old Man Campbell, our former boss. The man just did not know how to run a meeting. I almost take a step in that direction before stopping myself. Now, it’s my responsibility to run this thing.

  Michael must catch my falter because I hear a deep throaty grunt come from our table. Against my better judgment, I look over to see him chatting up Marissa, one of the young filing clerks. The instant pang of jealousy makes my mouth go dry. Michael’s eyes, however, are on me. Well, rather, my chest.

  The bathroom hand dryer was broken, as usual. So, I had to dab at the coffee for half an hour this morning, hiding in the bathroom on a conference call with my mic muted. It’s dry now, but the entire left side of my blouse is darker than the rest.

  I level Michael with a stone-cold stare, made even more severe by the tight bun I had to twist my hair into after the coffee incident. I am unflappable. I am worthy of this position. I am the boss. I repeat the mantra in my head as I wait for him to be the first to break our eye contact pissing contest, which he does. Unfortunately, he returns his gaze to the perky, adoring, little file clerk. I tell myself the burn in my gut is from nerves. This is, after all, my first meeting as their direct supervisor.

  “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me this morning,” I say, as I take my place at the front of the room. All eyes are on me, except for two sets in the back corner. “I appreciate how awkward this may be for some of you. We’ve worked side by side for the past four years, and I assure you that I will not let the power go to my big head.” The jab at Old Man Campbell has its intended effect and the room exhales in relief. I do the same.

  “Now, let’s start by going over some of the bigger projects we have in the pipeline. Ed, where are we on the Farrow County Bridge?” The bridge is not our biggest job right now, but I choose to start on the other side of the room from Michael and his toy. No need to scratch that surface just yet.

  We go around the room, everyone sharing their status and concerns about the projects they’re involved in, until I have no choice but to call on Michael next. He’s been getting louder and less interested in the meeting as time has passed. So much so, that when I do call his name, he doesn’t answer.

  I clear my throat and raise my voice. “Mr. Renzo, where are we on the Senior Sweets respec?”

  Michael’s eyes finally turn to me but with a fire I haven’t seen before. “I don’t know, Mizz Covington. That’s not my project.” A muffled giggle erupts from Marissa, which I choose to ignore. I know she can’t help it. She’s under his spell. A place I know all too well. Her reaction does embolden him and I can see him daring me to push the issue. So I don’t.

  “It is now, and I’d like a full update in tomorrow’s staff meeting. Thank you.” I nod cordially and open my mouth to address the rest of the room again.

  “Yes ma’am,” he says overly polite. Then, not exactly under his breath, “Elizabitch.” This elicits a snort from the file clerk and uneasy squirms from the burly men around him. And just like that, the pressure of the room shifts and I’m losing them.

  “Thank you,” I choose to reply. “Now, I know we’re under the gun with a lot of these projects, and we’re having to dig ourselves out of some nasty holes. I’m here to help in any way I can. Please don’t hesitate to ask. And
my first order of business is to get out of your hair and let you guys do what you do best.” I nod and wave my hand toward the door, their cue that the meeting is over. “Lunch will be provided this afternoon as a thank you for all your hard work these past few difficult weeks.”

  Chairs scrape the floor and the room full of large men begins to empty. Over the clamor of noise, comes the distinct deep growl of Michael’s voice, the one he gets when he thinks he’s whispering. “If she thinks one damn lunch is gonna shut me up, then she’s got another thing coming.” Nervous chuckles fill the room.

  Michael’s always been their ringleader and the tides are turning in his favor. It’s now or never.

  “Mr. Renzo, can I please speak to you in my office?”

  The room falls silent and the techs race out the door. Even Marissa, who had been practically in Michael’s lap through the entire meeting, looks down at her phone and leaves without making eye contact.

  “Of course, ma’am.” Michael pushes past me. Any other time, the touch of our arms would send butterflies to my gut. Now, with the hate in his glare, those butterflies turn to stone.

  Chapter Three

  “Please, have a seat.” I motion to the chair across from my desk. It looks more comfortable than the one I have to sit in all day.

  “I think I’ll stand.” Michael clasps his large hands behind his back.

  I’ve already taken my seat and standing now would be a show of weakness. But now he towers over me, his looming presence a reminder of how much larger he is up close like this.

  I straighten my back and meet his gaze. “Suit yourself.”

  “I don’t expect to be here long.” Michael raises up on the balls of his feet, then drops back down in a show of dominance and impatience. They are my most and least favorite of his personality traits.

  With a sigh, I fold my hands quietly on the desk and make him wait. If I don’t take the upper hand now, I’ll never have another chance. After several long minutes tick by, I say as professionally as possible, “Considering our history, is our working together in this capacity going to be an issue for you? Can you put the past behind us? Or would you prefer to be reassigned?”