Perfect Monster (The Oligarchs) - Page 86

I didn’t have to be stuck in the past, even if it was the past that drove me into hiding.

Cassie and I had that in common.

Before I could spiral, I put on a big, broad smile, blocking out everything else.

That was my armor, my sword and shield.

Kill ‘em with kindness. And humor. Mostly humor.

I heard the rev of an engine from nearby. Avalon was pretty quiet and cars never drove fast around here—too many pedestrians. I turned toward the road ready to flip off some tourist with a fancy BMW or whatever, but instead watched as a black SUV roared toward me then slammed on its brakes once it drew level.

I stared in surprise and took one step back from the curb.

I didn’t recognize the man behind the wheel. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He was breathing hard, like he sprinted into the car. “Winter. Erick sent me. You need to get in the car.”

“In the car? Erick? The hunky bodyguard? What the hell?” I stared at him like the guy lost his damn mind. “I already told them I’m not having dinner tonight. Or did I leave my phone? God, I’m always leaving my phone places. You’d think that would be impossible, considering how often I’m using it, but—“

“Please,” the guy said. “You’re in danger. He’s—“

Two gunshots cracked out.

I blinked and stared as red blood spurted out from the driver’s chest. It was like something from a movie or a really good play. The gore was unreal, and god, there was so much red pumping from his wounds. The front windshield splintered like a spider web.

This wasn’t right. Nobody got shot in Avalon. It was freaking Avalon.

Rich people didn’t bother killing each other. What a hassle.

The driver coughed once and leaned forward, slumping against the steering wheel.

Definitely dead.

“Okay,” I said out loud, my mind in full-on freak out mode. I tried to get a handle on the situation, but couldn’t quite accept the reality of that very dead driver. “Okay, that’s bad. I think that’s bad. Very, very bad. Oh fuck.”

I turned to run.

And saw two men walking toward me.

I didn’t recognize the one holding the rifle. He was tall, big shoulders, bulky chest. Looked like he slept at the gym. He wore a pair of camo pants and a black t-shirt, like a freaking cliché army dude. His thinning hair was slicked back.

But the other, I knew him.

Darren smiled and spread his hands wide. “Winter, love. It’s been a while.”

I stepped backwards. “No.”

“Come now, Winter. Don’t be like that. We had fun, didn’t we? I never hurt you, and I still won’t, if you come along.”

“Not you. Please, not you.”

His face clouded. “Listen love. I’d be glad to leave you out of this, but Roman is in deep shit, and I need a little more leverage against him. That means you’re in play.”

I started to run.

Darren came after me. I didn’t get far. Freaking stupid sandals with the stupid freaking broken strap. They were cute but shit for escaping kidnappers.

He grabbed my wrist and yanked me around. I gasped in pain and nearly fell over, but he caught me and wrenched my arm up behind my back. I stood facing him, gasping, a bone-deep ache lancing up my skin.

Darren’s breath was warm and smelled spicy. “Very sorry about all this, love.” He turned and shoved me forward.

“Please,” I managed.

But then Darren bent over and threw me over his shoulder.

The big guy opened the SUV door and yanked the corpse of Roman’s guard out. It hit the street with a soft thud, like a pallet filled with flour.

The big guy climbed behind the wheel, despite all the blood.

Darren shoved me in the back and got in. I struggled, but he pinned me to the seat as the big man began to drive.

I tried to slap Darren away. I pushed and fought and hissed.

His hands were like iron.

“Please behave,” he said, his voice suddenly cool, his lips near my neck. “This’ll be over in a moment, love. You won’t remember a thing.”

“Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?”

Darren’s handsome lips pulled back and he tilted his head, grinning wildly.

“I want you to help me save the world. Now open that pretty mouth of yours nice and wide.”

“What do you—“

He shoved a rag against my face. I screamed, thrashed, sucked in a ragged breath—

A chemical blast down my throat, and the world lurched into darkness.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
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