When my nerves were about to the frazzled state, I finally noticed she was standing on the opposite end of the pool. She’d removed her clothes and in the stream of moonlight, I thought her to be the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.
What I hadn’t fully understood until seeing her again was how much the job had cut from my soul. Too much. I’d gone from believing I could right wrongs and get the bad guys off the street to realizing not all people within law enforcement were decent or even lawful.
Many were corrupt, using their power and standing within the system to better themselves or to hide their proclivities.
I’d become a disillusioned, angry man who’d parlayed disappointment and anger, bitterness and hatred for the system I’d once loved into words on a page.
Words filled with anger and remorse, using the emotions that were pent up inside to sell books instead of healing my fractured soul. Until I’d believed I didn’t have one any longer.
Those words and that rage had made me a lot of money, but had left me cold, dead inside.
I’d gone from being a law-abiding savior to an assassin without thinking. Did I have any regrets?
No.
None.
Maybe I was more like the killer than I’d care to admit to anyone.
Exhaustion had become my way of life, not excitement. A dull ache that never wavered. Never left.
The moment she’d walked back into my life, I’d begun to feel something once again, something other than the darkness eclipsing my soul.
As the hunger grew, so did my need to protect her.
At all costs.
No matter the consequences.
CHAPTER 19
Alexia
My life had been fraught with misery.
I’d tried to deny it, years of doing so and I’d believed I could hide the pain that tormented me every day. Yet now I knew better. I’d be lying to myself if I said I was remotely happy or even content. That simply wasn’t true.
How did I know?
Because the moment I’d walked up to Maverick’s table, the swell of emotions had been overwhelming. Even with the increasing danger and the confirmation that the killer was still out there, all I could concentrate on was the handsome author.
I dove into the water and the rush of cold was thrilling, jolts of current dancing across my naked skin. What had prompted me into craving time in the pool was beyond me. Now I was glad I’d made the decision.
I’d pontificated basic bullshit about being taught to live again, even a little recklessly. I’d done nothing remotely careless in my entire life. In fact, it had been structured from morning until night. No room for error. Or emotion.
After spending months of fading into bouts of depression, discovering cold hard structure had pulled me from the great depths of hell. The Python Killer hadn’t taken my life, but he had taken my heart and soul.
Maybe tonight I was reclaiming a tiny portion of it.
As soon as I swam up from the depths, breaching the surface of the water, I expected to see Maverick standing there waiting. Maybe with an admonishing look on his face. He was nowhere to be seen. I turned in a full circle, churning up the water as I did. I thought I’d seen him walking out.
Yes, I had.
My heart thudded several times as my pulse ticked inside of my clenched jaw. I twirled again, now racing toward the set of stairs.
Another rush of emotions tore through me as I was jerked backward through the water.
And directly into a set of strong arms.
