Page 93 of Ricochet

“Did it always have heat, water and electrical, or did you rig that yourself?”

He kissed the sensitive skin behind my ear, and I twitched at the tickle of his scruff. “Rigged it myself.”

“You went through all this trouble just to kidnap me? I’m flattered.”

“Nothing but the best for you.” With his lips dragging along the edge of my neck, he cast an exhilarating prickle against the tautness of my skin, while his palm smoothed over the curve of my hip.

“Your hands are like nothing I’ve ever known before, Nick. Both pain and pleasure in your touch.”

“Pain?” His words vibrated against my throat.

Exhaling a long, easy breath, I closed my eyes and rolled onto my back, where he stared down at me, propped on one elbow. “Pain of knowing it doesn’t belong to me. That this is all temporary.”

Those blue eyes cut away from mine. “Being with you has only strengthened my reasons for going after Culling. Not just for what happened to my family.” His stare lifted, drilling into me with intensity as his brows furrowed and his lip twisted in disgust. “For what he did to you. How he hurt you. Tortured you.” His fingertip drifted along my shoulder. “This touch does belong to you, Aubree. And I promise these same hands that seek to bring you pleasure, will bring pain to those who hurt you. I will destroy the nightmares that haunt you, and deliver Culling’s fucking head on a platter for all he’s done to you. All he’s stolen from you. I promise you this.”

His face blurred behind the tears filling my eyes. “What if I told you that I don’t want that from you? Fuck Michael.” My blood thickened with ire. Was vengeance so important that he’d risk dying? Michael had too many connections to make him an easy kill. “I want you, Nick. Don’t you understand? If you die, even having killed Michael, in the end he’s won. He will have taken the last shred of hope.” I placed my palm against his cheek. “I can’t lose this. I can’t lose you.”

Frowning, he rolled over my body and cupped my face in his palms. “If ever a woman was capable of owning my heart again, you are. No matter what happens, Aubree, I will take care of you.” His lips brushed mine in what felt like a shushing of my thoughts, and when his mouth closed over mine, tongue dipping past my teeth, his kiss penetrated the wintry shroud of despair that kept us at a safe distance. It somehow broke through the suffocating uncertainty that loomed like a black cloud on the verge of destroying both of us.

I yearned to know his secrets. Not the ones he’d given me, but the ones he refused to share. The ones buried in some locked chamber inside his head where I couldn’t reach. The ones that didn’t answer the burning question swimming inside my own head—why me? What did I have to offer in his grand scheme? A ransom? A vendetta?

If only I could somehow unlock the secret door inside his heart, where I sensed something darker burrowed, protected by an ominous lie that hung on the air, perhaps then he’d trust me enough with his truths. I could heal him and perhaps he’d see something beyond the vengeance.

He’d see me.

CHAPTER 41

Chief Cox

Cox slouched in the chair across from Culling, who ignored him while talking on his cellphone. Not a single black hair on the mayor’s head stood out of place, and the slicked back style glistened under the office lights. Must’ve been in his thirties, Cox guessed, but the lack of wrinkles and the smooth surface of his skin, lacking any sort of texture, swiped ten years off his guess. Clearly, the asshole put too much time into his beauty regimen. No man should look like he caked on a bunch of fuckin’ makeup before coming to work, yet, the patch of red at Culling’s cheeks almost looked like the bastard’d blushed ‘em.

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll come up with something and call you back.” Culling rubbed his forehead in what seemed like distress. “Thanks for calling.” He flipped off the phone and, tossing it onto his desktop, cupped his face with both hands and let out a string of muffled curses.

Christ. Cox had come to him with the developments on the case—a task he never looked forward to, as it seemed his efforts were never enough for the asshole— yet, he had a feeling he was about to get roped into whatever shit-storm had just stolen the first half hour of their meeting.

Culling’s hands slid down his smooth face, and for the first time, Cox had a good look at his eyes, dark and bloodshot. “Please tell me you’re here because you’ve found my fucking wife.”

Cox had known the bastard long enough to recognize the daunting calm to his voice as the placid moment before the fucker snapped into a hurricane of rage. Straightening in his chair, he sniffed and cleared his throat, muscles tense. “We, uh … got reason to believe there’s a connection between this Eye for an Eye killer and Mrs. Culling.”

“Reason to believe.” The articulation of every word set Cox’s spine tingling, like the instincts animals had when preparing themselves to flee. “And what, pray tell, brilliant sleuthing brought you to this conclusion?”

“Found a video of the Theodore Street massacre from three years ago. Looks like someone connected to that family might be out for revenge.”

“Theodore massacre. Would this be the same fucking video that just hit a major news station about an hour ago?”

Cox frowned. “I’m sorry, sir. What?”

“That call was my Chief of Staff, telling me that the city is going ballistic over a story that, apparently, went viral on social media earlier today and ended up on the evening news. There are rumblings of a massive protest planned for Devil’s Night. They’ve come up with an endearing name for it—The Culling Conspiracy.” The pounding of his fist against the desktop had Cox flinching. “I, somehow, have to answer to thousands of residents wanting to know how I could overlook and suppress such an atrocity. They’re questioning my methods of crime reduction in this city, and when they begin to question, they begin to dig. And when they dig, they begin to rebel. And when they rebel, you have a fucking anarchy and the Detroit Riot of ’sixty-seven knocking at your door! I have every king pin in this city ready to help me take down some of these hellhole neighborhoods that suck the life right out of this goddamn shit stain on the fucking map, and now I have to find something shiny enough to distract the restless flock of jobless hippies who have nothing better to do than save humanity between tokes of their fucking peace pipes! This has Achilleus X written all over it. Now, perhaps you might explain how a dormant video managed to go viral on the same day you happened to discover it?”

Like a thunderclap inside Cox’s head, Culling’s words jolted the clues that’d been swimming around his mind the last couple of days. Vaughn. Achilleus X. Could there have been a connection? “We got a tip from the guy who owns the apartment where we found the video. Some Alec Vaughn. I don’t yet know how he’s linked to Theodore Street, or why, but this Vaughn … he’s one sick son of a bitch. Might be tight with Achilleus X. Like some kinda faction, or something.”

“Then, I suggest you pull your finger out of your asshole and make sure you find him first. Does anyone else know about this Vaughn?”

“Another cop. DeMarcus Corley.” A twinge of fury licked Cox’s spine at the mention of Corley.

“Make sure he keeps his fucking mouth shut. You’re going to need an element of surprise in order to catch this one, if he’s as slick as Achilleus X.”

“I’ll make sure DeMarcus doesn’t say a word.”