I watch her walk away until she disappears into the crowd.
Neither of us had any idea, in that moment, how much our lives were about to change.
Just over two years later
God, I’m dizzy! How long has it been since I went out alone at night?
I have no idea. What I do know is that today is the anniversary of my brother’s death, and I don’t want to be alone. That was Taylor’s advice for days like this—something she does to cope with her father’s loss—and I’ve followed it religiously: don’t feed the depression. Starve it.
Ever since my friend was kidnapped[5], I’ve been more cautious about going out. Even now, long after her rescue, I take precautions.
But little by little, I’m learning to relax again.
“I’m getting spoiled by your protection, Lucifer,” I whisper. “So much that I forgot I shouldn’t get drunk in a place full of guys looking to hook up.”
“You just say you wanna hook up, babe?” some creep asks, coming at me.
Jesus—what kind of hearing is that?
I thought I was talking to myself!
“Back off,” I growl, pushing his chest.
I’m heading to the dance floor when that familiar chill hits the back of my neck—the one that tells mehe’snear.
I look back and see no one, but I’m not backing down tonight.
You want to keep watching me from the shadows? Then I’m going to set a trap for you.
I know exactly where to go to corner him.
Maybe it’s the alcohol giving me courage.
Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to be alone tonight. But I’m done just waiting. It’s time to make a move—or to finally let him go.
Chapter 6
I don’t like nightclubs.
Actually, I don’t like any kind of enclosed space. Everything about this damn place pisses me off. The overly friendly drunks, the depressed drunks, the stench of cigarettes and weed.
I grew up in a house where both of my parents were drug addicts—any drug, really. If they couldn’t afford the hard stuff, they’d snort and drink whatever garbage they could get their hands on. Maybe psychology would say that’s why I hate drugs so much.
Or maybe—and this is more likely—I’m just a control freak bastard who can’t stand the idea of having his mind clouded.
The truth is I’m not a regular guy. I’m a monster. And monsters don’t get the luxury of letting their guard down.
I’m always watching my back—looking over my shoulder. For me. For Jackie. The girl I always saw as an extension of Martin. She’s like a sister to me.
So the moment I start following her through the nightclub, I know I shouldn’t be doing it. Any closeness between us could be dangerous—for both of us.
I already saved Taylor[6]—the redhead with no memory. My job is done. Icanandshouldkeep my usual distance.
Jackie’s not a little girl anymore. She has every right to enjoy her night, have fun. Nothing will happen to her. More than once, I—or the men I assign to watch her when I have to leave the state or the country—have taken care of bastards who thought they could get lucky with my girl.
She’s not at this club by chance. I’m the one who arranged her entry, because here, she’s safe. I’ve got eyes on her the entire time. I didn’t need to follow her inside—but here I am anyway.
When one of my guys told me she was at Vanity by herself, I knew why. And I also knew I’d end up coming after her.
