Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Don’t you think if we could take down that West Coast circus, we would’ve done it by now?”
I shrug.
“We can help you. But you have to help us.” His sharp gaze digs into mine. “We want something in return.”
I don’t move.
“You’re secretive, intelligent, tenacious. Gutsy as fuck.” He cracks a grin, the toothpick jogging. “We need a man like that.”
“You have plenty of men.”
“A man who can erase a name off the map before breakfast.”
I sigh, annoyed. “You owe me a favor.”
“And you have a rare talent we want.” He aims a finger at me. “We want to hire you.”
“You want to own me.”
“There are many shades of ownership.”
“Says the man who owned sex slaves and sold them to the highest bidder.”
The sick fucking monster smiles.
“No one owns me.” I straighten, hardening my tone. “I don’t work for anyone. The answer is no.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“You’ll have to kill me first. I won’t give the remaining years of my miserable life to a cartel. I know how that story ends. There’s only one way out.”
He examines me for a long, unbearable moment. Then his mouth crooks. “You’re not wrong.”
Death.
That’s the only way out.
But if I don’t accept their offer, I’m dead anyway. They’ll make sure of it.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuuuuuck!
I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve fucked up fantastically, and every instinct screams for an exit.
The shadows stir behind him. A door creaks open, and two shapes emerge from the darkness.
As the figures float closer, they blur into living glitches, forming the wrong copies of something familiar.
At first, I think the smoke’s playing tricks on me. Then I see the details. The same build. Same coloring. Similar facial features. One looks like Dove, the other like Wolf. A pair of distorted reflections. Almost indistinguishable.
Almost.
My gut squirms, telling me something’s off. Little things like the missing beauty mole on the woman’s collarbone and the slightly duller eye color on the man. Not noticeable to anyone.
I notice.
They stop in front of me, and I stop breathing. The resemblance is eerie enough to turn my stomach.
It’s not them. It’s not them.
The woman wears lace panties and nothing else. Long blue hair frames her honey-colored eyes. Her bone structure matches Dove’s. Same facial hardware. Same pretty pierced nipples. They harden beneath my stunned perusal.
Fuck me to hell and back.
The guy towers over her, lean and pale. Black hair hanging wild, corset pinched tight, thigh-high fishnets decorating his long legs, rings stacking his fingers, and eyes painted in smoky black. A perfect echo of Wolf’s chaos. Most of the meat on his body appears to be stuffed into his spandex thong, the massive bulge stretching at the seams.
“What is this?” My insides contract as I fight an unwanted surge of heat.
Van doesn’t answer. He just watches, that half-smile curling under his scar.
The woman runs a hand along my shoulder, tracing the line of my collar, testing for a reaction. The man mirrors her, every movement synchronized.
“Proof.” Van leans back on the couch. “That we can give you whatever you want. Faces, bodies, obedience. A world tailored to your needs.”
“Sex slaves.”
“They’re here willingly. They want this.”
“I don’t.” I knock their hands away. “I’m not here for this.”
“Everyone’s here for sex.” He lifts a brow. “We exist to fuck, do we not?”
My sexual tastes run dark and freaky. Freaky enough to admit he’s not wrong.
A month ago, I would’ve bent the Wolf-lookalike over the coffee table and fucked him bareback while holding Van’s gaze.
But now?
I’m not tempted. Not even a little.
I’ve felt Wolf’s touch and experienced his passion. And Dove? No one can replace her. Not now. Not ever. Hell knows I’ve tried.
“I’m here to call in a favor.” I dodge the breasts bouncing in my face. “Remove House of Crowe from Alaska. That’s it. Get them off my back, and we’re done.”
“If we do that, what then? You crawl back to your cot in the tattoo shop and pretend Adrian won’t send more crows to Alaska?”
How the fuck does he know I sleep on a cot? Dread ices my stomach.
“You could have power here.” He spreads his arms, indicating his violent world. “Money, control, and all the little birds and wolves your cock desires.”
In exchange, he wants the same thing Adrian Crowe wants. A hacker who can outthink, outcode, and outghost the competition.
Except Crowe doesn’t just want me. He wants the one thing I’ll never surrender.
Dove.
“We’ll fix your problem.” Van twitches a shoulder in a lazy shrug, as if my decision doesn’t matter. “Your dove and her wolf can go on living their safe fairy tale, while you build something real with us. Win-win.”
The hot, unmistakable touch of Fake-Wolf’s leather bulge rubs against my arm.
I jerk away. “Is this a game?”
“It’s a down payment. They’re yours to do with whatever you want.”
“Everything I want is in Sitka.”
For a heartbeat, Van studies me, his gray eyes cold as winter. The toothpick turns once, a slow rotation. “You have attachment problems, Jag. In this business, emotion will kill you faster than a bullet.”