And much more dangerous.
Not only because he’d brought a weapon into my house with every intention of using it, but also because of the darkness in his eyes. As if he’d sold his soul to some devil.
The words he’d tossed out at me and the malice in them had repeated in soft whispers on an endless loop since he’d left.
And I’d had a sleepless night.
I’d tossed and turned, finally leaving my bedroom somewhere around four in the morning. Now, as I stood staring outside the kitchen window at my little studio, a coffee mug in hand, I couldn’t stop shaking. Clouds blanketed the sky in an ominous nod to the anxiety forming knots in my stomach. With limbs crashing against the back of the house from gusts of wind, every savage crack sent shivers down my spine.
The gray day was perfect for my mood.
Because men will come.
What men? Who was determined to ruin my life? What if the spirits were correct?
I went over the terse two-minute conversation I’d allowed with Danny for the tenth time. I’d sensed whatever he’d needed to tell me was weighing heavily on his mind. It was the reason he’d left New York, hunting me down when I’d forbidden him to. Now what was I supposed to do?
What if I heard him out? Could I then either convince or force Danny to leave and not look back? More important, was that what I wanted?
And why the hell had Montgomery acted as if I was the one in danger? Not merely because some jerk had tried to run me down in the middle of the road, but because of Danny’s appearance. Did the powerful mafia man know something I didn’t know?
Another shudder tore at my pulse and the thoughts lingering in my mind.
I’d mentioned karma, but what if some act of black magic had driven Montgomery and me together? Was I being a little crazy? Maybe, but I doubted the French Cajun showing up when he had was a pure coincidence. The timing was too perfect.
I glanced at the note Danny had slipped into my hand just before he’d left. He was staying at the Mountain Motel in room two fifteen. Maybe the debate on whether I should honor his request to come see him weighed as heavily on my mind as the time spent with Montgomery.
All the order in my life was screaming a sense of charred chaos. What I hadn’t wanted to face since the incident in the road theday before was the possibility my that ex had made good on his threat. Yet for all Zane’s huffing and puffing that he’d done in the months leading up to the wedding and the few weeks after my escape, I’d never taken him seriously. At least not to the point of being physically afraid of him.
Maybe I’d been fooling myself.
Zane was powerful in business, influential in several circles in New York City. Would he consider making another attempt at destroying my life out of the blue? Maybe. But why?
What I needed more than anything was to take control. The only way of doing that was to get my ass in the shower and head to the motel to hear my brother out. That was the logical thing to do. I could decide then if I should allow him back into my life.
As far as Montgomery, a simple reminder that he lived a couple thousand miles away should be comfort enough. He’d be returning home within a few weeks, maybe even a few days, and commuting was a nonstarter.
Yet every thought regarding the night before and the one before that presented an array of desires to choose from.
Ones where every command was a dark and filthy sin.
Where every touch was a forbidden taste of the very darkness surrounding him.
And every punishment was an awakening of my soul.
Why was the hunger so pronounced this morning?
Even with the sky devoid of sunlight, I could easily see my reflection in the glass. Wide green eyes stared back at me.
Sharp. Focused.
Or at least that’s what I usually noticed. This morning, they were clouded by exhaustion and fear, the same anxiety I’d felt for far too long after leaving New York.
Delicious visions outweighed the suffocating concern as I headed for the shower. The Ouija board caught my eye. In the scuffle the night before, it had been kicked partially under the couch. Feeling deflated once again, I dropped to my knees, grabbing the board while searching for the planchette. Where in the hell had it gone?
Reaching under the couch, my fingers managed to snag it. I could almost hear my brother’s voice chastising me for believing in such voodoo, as he’d called it.
But the board had never failed me, including the night before my wedding. The spirits had been angrier then, upset that I hadn’t listened to them earlier.
