Dangerous (Wicked Hearts Book 2) Read online

  And just when I think I have her pegged as a sweet, passive little girl, she leans forward, my eyes catching her tits down the front of her low cut dress.

  “You think you’re the only with threats? You can watch me all you want, but if you try to ruin this for me, I’ll ruin you. And it’s not hard for a young, innocent girl to ruin a guy like you. So, watch me all you want, but don’t underestimate me.”

  Then, she stands up and walks away, and I swear she sways her hips a little more just for me. I have to close my open jaw. Even I can admit, I did not see that coming.

  “Hey Ruby,” I call to the nurse passing by through the open patio door. I have to adjust my pants to hide the now stiff bulge in my jeans. When Ruby peeks out the door to see what I need, I speak loud enough to make sure Savannah hears it.

  “Will you prepare my old room? I’m going to be staying a while.”

  He’s trying to get under my skin, but that’s not what’s bothering me. What’s bothering me is that it’s working.

  Whenever I’m around him, I feel completely consumed by him. The slightest command, and I’m a useless, obedient child.

  As I stare at the closed door to his old room, a bedroom I’ve never actually been in, but I see Ruby dusting and vacuuming from time to time, I start to feel out of place in a home I’ve made my own this year. And that really gets under my skin.

  The last thing I need at this point is someone taking away everything I’ve worked for. It wasn’t enough that I had to bite and claw my way out of that toxic relationship with Hugo, but now I have to compete with an overbearing man child over his mommy’s inheritance. Give me a fucking break. I haven’t conned that woman out of a dime. I’ve done everything this job has asked of me, and she made a promise that I don’t expect her to break—unless he gets a hold of her.

  Just a few hours ago, we had that intense connection, stronger than anything I felt before, and now this intensity is something different entirely.

  He stomps up the stairs a moment later, and I watch him coldly as he walks into the bedroom, dropping his bag on the floor. His smug grin does nothing to calm my nerves, but it does stoke the flames a bit, and I roll my eyes at him.

  “You keep your hands to yourself now, sweetheart.”

  The term of endearment sours my stomach. Hugo used to call me sweetheart, among many, many other things.

  I simply scoff at him and turn away, heading toward the kitchen where I usually help Ruby with dinner. She’s heating up some soup on the stove as I start unloading the dishwasher. My shitty mood is not subtle, and she can hear it in the way I’m thrashing around, putting things in the cupboards.

  “Easy now,” she chimes at me. “You can break those plates, but it won’t make you feel any better.”

  “You sure about that?”

  I can feel her eyeing me skeptically as I finish up the silverware, but I keep my focus away.

  “Don’t let him get under your skin,” she says, stirring the soup.

  “Oh, don’t let it bother me that he walks in and acts like he owns the place? I’ve been here since last summer, and where was he?”

  Ruby just laughs. “I think I might just have to pop me some popcorn. With your attitudes combined...oooh boy, this is going to be quite a show.”

  Of course, she thinks it’s funny. Her entire future isn’t riding on this territorial asshole coming in to ruin everything.

  “That’s how these kids are. She takes them in and then sends them off. They get a hold of money for the first time in their lives, and they don’t come back. Murph is just special because he was her first.”

  I pause and glance at her, desperate to know the rest of the story. “She had just ended her last marriage was pretty broke about it—it was abusive toward the end, so I think Ms. Hazel just wanted something to distract her. Shortly after, she met Mr. Murphy. He was only seventeen and was just about to age out of the system. He was her sister’s foster kid. And they just hit it off. She put him through art school, bought him his shop, and helped him save up for his own house. When he enlisted and left town, she was so broken up about it. But then, she found another.”

  “Oh, God,” I drawl. “Please don’t tell me they were…” I widen my eyes at Ruby, and she slaps my arm.

  “Savannah!” she scolds me, like I’m crazy to think there’s something weird about a teenage boy and an old lady bonding. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  I can’t hold back my laugh. It was never any secret to me that I was one of Hazel’s charity cases. I just didn’t realize there had been more before me.

  I’m about to ask about the other one when a presence in the doorway to the kitchen grabs my attention. He’s standing there in a tight T-shirt and dark jeans. There’s a wisp of chest hair poking out from the top of his v-neck, and it’s pausing the thoughts in my head. In our very short embrace earlier, I didn’t quite register in my mind just how built this guy was. His shoulders are broader but still has all of the softness required to make me crazy and want to crawl back into his lap so he could wrap those arms around me.

  My eyes land on the tattoos adorning his arms from his wrists all the way up into his sleeves. Then it all makes sense. The morning glory is Hazel’s favorite flower. Of course, he got it for her.

  He’s still standing there while I ogle his tattoos from across the room. I hate the feeling of him watching me work, but I also love the idea that I can drive him crazy with the way I move. So when I have to put the wine glasses on the top shelf, I make sure to really drive my hips back, knowing full well that my backside is on full display.

  A low growl emits from the doorway, and I let out a silent chuckle.

  “Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Ruby calls just before she leaves the kitchen, leaving Murph and I alone with all of the heavy tension between us.

  I stay silent as I busy myself with wiping down the counters. His presence behind me is still obvious.

  “So what’s your story, huh?” He stalks in, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. Leaning against the granite, his thick forearms folded in front of him, he takes a bite and glares at me with a harsh grin.

  I don’t answer him, only glaring back.

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Oh really?” I answer, coyly. “I really had you pegged for Mr. Comedy.”

  “I know nothing about your past, where you came from, what brought you to Wickett. You might as well be my foster sister.” He takes a bite of his apple, and something intense floods through my bloodstream at the way he bites and grins at me as if he were thinking of me between his fingers.

  “Ugh, please don’t say that. We are not even close to being related.”

  “You have a story, and I want to hear it.”

  For a minute, I consider saying something. Bad breakup, maybe. New start. But then I remember his threat to me just an hour ago, and I want him to know nothing about me. Especially since our relationship sits in this gray area.

  “I moved into town, started looking for a job, and found Hazel. What else is there to know?”

  “What are you running from?”

  My eyes shoot up to his face, fixing on those deep green irises that seem to be pulling me in. Is my story so written on my face that he can tell I’m running from something...or someone?

  “I’m not running from anything,” I answer, tossing the kitchen towel against the counter.

  “You show up at my shop, throw yourself at me like you haven’t been touched in years. Clearly you have a secret, something you’re hiding. And I’ll figure it out.”

  He stands from his position bent over the counter and tosses the half-eaten apple into the garbage. Then he marches toward me, keeping his gaze on my face, the intensity making me shudder. Without stopping, he presses his body against mine, pinning me to the counter.

  Part of me wants to push him away, and another part wants to grab his face and wrap my legs around his waist, losing all abandon in this intensity.

  He leans
down, bringing his face closer to mine. I ready myself for a kiss, leaning my head back and giving it a slight tilt.

  His lips whisper delicately close to mine. “All I can think about is look on your face when you came on my lap.”

  My breath hitches in my throat. I can smell the sweetness of the apple on his breath, and I inhale it, desperate to consume him in any way that I can.

  My body completely betrays me as I wait for him to kiss me, and it’s like I’ve forgotten why I should not put my trust in this new stranger who suddenly ambushed my new life.

  Suddenly I hear the sound of water behind me, and I turn my gaze to see him running his hands in the water, one arm on each side of me so that he’s practically hugging me. His stare doesn’t waver for a second.

  All too soon, he pulls away and flicks his wet hands toward me. The cold water against my face feels like ice, doing nothing to cool the red hot anger.

  “I’ll figure you out eventually,” he calls, and then he’s gone.

  She thinks she can play with me. Cute. I saw her little act while cleaning up the kitchen, shaking that plump little ass in my face while she put the glasses on the top shelf. It worked, but not enough to make me let my guard down.

  Two can play this game.

  When Ruby calls us for dinner, I come down to the ornately decorated dining room with its large window overlooking the long strip of beach. The sky is turning dark, painting a red and orange haze into the room. Hazel is sitting at the table already. She has a glass of white wine in her hands, and classical music is playing from the speakers in the dining room. She always did love music while we ate dinner, and it’s a habit I still keep to this day. It’s not usually classical at my place, but it’s still music.

  Her face lights up when I walk in. It makes me smile, but also sends another shock of guilt to my system. I shouldn’t have stayed away so long.

  “I’m so glad you’re home,” she croaks, her voice seeming far more gravelly than I remember from earlier today.

  “I’m glad to be home,” I answer, sitting next to her. “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “Don’t get all sappy on me now. I’m dying, so what. I’m eighty-fucking-seven years old, Murph. How long do you expect me to go on?”

  I want to tell her that you never accept losing the people who love you the most, especially when that person is the only one who loves you, but I don’t. Not with Savannah still in the kitchen, within earshot.

  “I got something in the mail,” she says, reaching to a small stack of papers on the buffet behind her. “It came from the city.”

  In her hand is an official looking envelope that has been stamped by someone official. I know already it’s about the shop, and my jaw clenches when I see it.

  Hazel bought my shop five years ago, once I got back from a year in Iraq. Even though it’s my name on the door, the deed is still in her name, officially. When she unfolds the letter, I see what seems to be a date in bold and the word audit above it. Fucking assholes.

  Once Logan let me in on the new initiative the city was putting into action to keep the city clean, I knew this was coming. The initiative apparently included auditing establishments like tattoo and smoke shops to the point that it forces us out of business. They seem to think this cleans up the city’s image.

  The thought makes me so irate I can hardly function.

  “Do you know about this?”

  “Those assholes are trying to shut me down, and they’ll find anyway to do it,” I growl as I take the paper from her hands.

  “I figured as much. Those greedy dickheads.”

  From the corner of my eye, I feel Savannah enter the dining room. She lingers just near the doorway, obviously watching for the right time to join the conversation. Hazel peers up at her for a moment.

  “Come on in, sweetheart.” She gives her a warm smile that almost makes me jealous because it resembles the same smile she gives me.

  Then, Hazel turns toward me again. “If you need me to take care of this, I’d be happy to, Murph. Let me give them a piece of my mind.” I love this firecracker of a woman, but she can’t fight all of my battles for me.

  “Thanks, Hazel, but I can handle these fuckers.” I touch her shoulder, feeling the sharp bones under her skin. I can’t let her stress about stuff like this right now. She needs to rest, stay home and get better.

  She’s not getting better, a cruel voice in my head reminds me.

  “Savannah,” Hazel says, directing her attention to the girl on her right. “Did you know Murph owns a tattoo shop? He’s so talented. You should go see it.”

  Savannah stirs in her seat, and I have to look away to hide my smile. “Is that so?” she asks, keeping her poker face on.

  I send her a subtle wink just to torture her, and even though I know she sees it, she keeps her eyes on Hazel. This is going to be fun, I think. Torturing each other until the other breaks.

  “Savannah is a beautiful artist too,” Hazel mumbles with her lips against the rim of her wine glass. My eyebrows shoot up as I tilt my head toward Savannah.

  “Really?” I ask, drawing out the word in a teasing tone. I notice the subtle tensing in her jaw as she ignores my response.

  A moment later, Ruby walks into the dining room carrying a large soup tureen with a ladle and sets it on the table between us. Savannah hops up to get the bread and butter, following with the salad. As we all dig into our dinner, I savor every bite. When was the last time I sat down for a real home cooked meal? It’s been too long which would explain why this soup tasted like fucking heaven. Ruby’s cooking alone should have been enough to keep me coming back.

  We make pleasant dinner conversation, mostly Ruby and Hazel trying to get Savannah and I to talk more than we’re comfortable with. When she gets Savannah on the topic of boyfriends, I watch the girl clam up. Then, they do the same thing to me, which only makes me laugh.

  “Murph never was one to have girls around,” Ruby chimes in with a tense smirk.

  “No matter how hard I tried to match him up,” Hazel adds.

  “Don’t remind me,” I mutter over my dinner plate.

  Hazel is not about to shy away from the obvious so she immediately starts teasing us about going out with each other, which only makes the rest of us hide the tension with our laughter.

  “Oh, I have a great idea,” Hazel announces, leaving her untouched soup to grow cold as she gets up to retrieve yet another piece of mail from the pile on the buffet. “You should take Savannah to the gala this weekend.”

  “The what?” I ask, hoping this is a joke.

  “Every summer, the board of trustees holds a gala event at the harbor golf resort. It’s a real uppity blowhard’s event, and it’s all about the who’s who in Wickett. The best part is the free booze, but I won’t be going this year, for obvious reasons, but Murph, I could send you in my place. Really put those dickheads in their place. Show them who you’re representing, and maybe they’ll lay off with the shop.”

  A loud laugh escapes my lips. She must be kidding. “You really think you have that much sway with the board, Hazel?”

  She levels her stare on me. “I’ve got more than you think,” she says and I shut up.

  Savannah fidgets in her seat, like the conversation has finally gotten too awkward for her.

  “Take Savannah,” Hazel says suddenly.

  “Oh, no,” the girl answers immediately.

  “Absolutely,” Ruby chimes in from the seat next to me. “You two would love a nice evening out. And if she doesn’t want to go, Murph, you can take me.”

  The table lets out a low chuckle, and I help Ruby clear the plates. When Savannah follows me to the kitchen, I notice the way she’s watching me. We get caught in a doorway together, her bumping her backside against my legs, and the electricity that ignites is like an electric shock.

  The thought stealing all of my attention is the notion that the gala idea isn’t half bad. Not taking Savannah, of course, but going in
Hazel’s place. It’s about time I show these guys that I’m not beneath them. They won’t take my shop away, and I certainly won’t go down without a fight.

  When we deliver the chocolate cheesecake dessert to Hazel, we all walk into the dining room to find her nodding off in her chair, sitting straight up. The women move toward her as if this isn’t out of the ordinary at all, but I freeze in place, noticing that her soup remains untouched.

  “When did she stop eating?” I ask Ruby, who carefully picks up the bowl and carries it past me to the kitchen.

  “She was picking at her breakfast this morning,” she answers without looking at me.

  “But that was it today,” Savannah adds, watching me carefully.

  “The meds make her so sleepy.” Ruby takes Hazel by the arm and helps her slowly to her bedroom. The old woman grimaces as she shuffles past us, not even registering that we’re there.

  My stomach feels full of lead.

  This is it.

  If Savannah is staring at me because she’s terrified of my expression, I wouldn’t blame her. My fists are clenched at my sides, and my brow is furrowed. Things with Hazel are far worse than I expected. When Ruby called me, I expected to find Hazel sick, not days away from death.

  When I turn my attention to Savannah, it feels as if the energy in the room has changed. The playful banter is gone, replaced with grief and fear. She doesn’t look any more comfortable with this situation than I am. The golden amber hue of her skin glistens in the light from the chandelier, and I spot the signs of moisture in her eyes as she watches the doorway where the two older women just left through.

  Then, as I’m feeling at my most raw and angry, she reaches down and picks up the letter from the city council. Without my permission, she reads it, letting the emotion of her facial features drain away until she’s coldly reading the letter that could seal my fate.

  Her deep brown eyes drift up to meet my face as she hands the letter to me. “I believe this is yours,” she says. Her expression is a warning. This news about the shop is exactly the weapon she needs against me. What could she possibly get away with now that she knows I am hanging by a thread?