Kane held my gaze, something in his eyes compelling me to listen. “You’re friends with Dixie, correct?”
I hesitated. Dixie worked at the skeleton crew’s warehouse. She’d been a sex worker before someone took a knife to her throat, and now had the job of researching bad men in the city so her employer could take them out. I hadn’t seen her in a while.
“What about her?”
“She’s missing, and I think she’s in danger. Already someone made an attempt on her life. I want to stop them being successful a second time.”
Settling my hands on my hips, I let a tiny amount of my panic recede. My worry for Dixie had already been big. Now, it billowed like a thundercloud. “Why do you care?”
“For reasons I don’t have time to explain.”
“Right,” I drawled. “Though you had plenty of time to stage a kidnapping. What makes you think I’d help after that?”
“Because you’re friends. You know where she lives. You told Mila.”
Something wasn’t adding up. Not the way he’d snatched me from the streets, nor the fact it was me he’d come to for this. “There’s probably a dozen people who know Dixie better than me. Why not ask around in the warehouse? Why go to all this trouble?”
“I don’t think she’d want that. You’re discreet, and time is of the essence.”
“If you think I won’t tell people about this, you’re insane.”
He raised a bulky shoulder, apparently untroubled. “So long as I get what I want, I don’t give a fuck what ye do.”
That weird attraction shimmered once more, and with it came a problem. My sense of regret in the back of the van about never having had good sex. A strange and desperate response to expecting to be murdered.
In both cases, those sentiments had been generated by him.
It had been thrilling to be on his arm. The shape of him broke my brain. His bulk, the powerful way he moved, the don’t-give-a-fuck attitude he wore like armour.
That was the only justification for the relief that filtered into my other emotions. I had every reason to get as far away from him as possible.
I glared at my kidnapper. Took a step.
The bastard smiled. “You’re not going anywhere, Lovelyn. Not until I’ve got what I came for.”
And the terrifying part? A dark, traitorous part of me wanted to ask what, exactly, that was.
Chapter 2
Kane
The lass in front of me watched me like I was a rabid dog. I’d been called worse.
Hours ago, when I’d realised exactly who Dixie the Dancer was, I’d determined that Lovelyn was my best chance of locating her. Pissing the lass off was a necessary evil.
I had to persuade her to help, and my rapid assessment of Lovelyn had given me a clear shot to her weakness. Her bleeding heart. She cared about everyone, and I wasn’t above exploiting that for my own means.
I was ready to lie or manipulate. Whatever it took to get her alongside.
She eyed the exit. Inched away.
I matched the movement. “I took rash action because Dixie’s life hangs in the balance.”
“Rash? You terrified me. I thought I was going to die.”
“I’m sorry.” A lie. I wasn’t. I’d liked the way her pulse jumped under my hand. Fear looked good on her.
Her chin came up, but I had her attention. “Tell me why you think she’s in danger.”
