Where is he?
Probably in the bathroom. I look toward the door leading to the bathroom, but there’s no sliver of light at the bottom. He probably just got up to go and didn’t bother with the lights. Didn’t want to wake me.
I draw in a deep breath, stretch my arms above my head. Relaxation swirls through me, and I close my eyes. I imagine myself lying on a beach, the sun streaming down on me, warming my body and my soul. In the distance the waves crash, and I feel at home.
So at home here with Luke.
Soon I’m asleep again.
3
LUKE
“Who the fuck are you?” I grit out.
“I’m the person who’s going to take you back to LA so you can get what’s coming to you.”
“You’re a damned bounty hunter? No fucking way.” I begin to turn my head—
He forces the gun harder into my back.
Damn, he’s not fooling around.
“Look, whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it.”
“Right.”
I’m calm. Strike that. Not calm. My ability to stay calm vanished with the alcohol. I’m a fucking mess with a heart that’s trying to pound right out of my chest, but I can at least act like I’m in control. I’d give my right arm for a drink.
No! I can’t go there. Katelyn. This is all for Katelyn. I draw in a breath.
“I’m serious,” I say. “If you know who I am, you know who my father is. I’ll fucking double it.”
He repositions the gun so it feels less like a broom handle digging into my spine…but only slightly less.
My heart is still racing, but at least he’s thinking about my offer.
Fuck it all. I’m ready to head back, to pay my damned dues, and someone decides to put a bounty on my head.
“Put the gun down, man. I’m going to miss my bus.”
“Lucifer Raven? On a bus?”
“You think I’m hanging out at a bus station in the middle of the night for my health?”
I heave a sigh of relief when the nose of the gun moves from my back. I’ve got my own piece strapped to my ankle, but I’m not in a position to get to it.
Still, I don’t dare turn around.
“Who the hell are you?” I demand.
“Turn around and see.”
I move slowly. He still has a gun trained on me, so I don’t dare go for my ankle holster.
I don’t look at his face at first. Hell, no. I need to know where the gun is.
Still in his right hand, and still pointed in my direction.
Okay, at least I know where it is. My hands are instinctively raised as I look up to his face.
A face I recognize.
A face I want to pummel.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Emily’s quick, but she’s not as quick as I am. I’m strong and fit—my job requires it. I have to be able to fight my way out of any situation, with or without weapons.
By the time we’re out of her cottage, I’ve got her in a stranglehold, my knife against the milky flesh of her neck.
“Why do you make me do this?” I whisper to her. “This isn’t me.”
“Please. Just leave me alone,” she whimpers. “Let me be happy.”
Let her be happy? She was happy back home. With me. I’ve done everything to make her happy, and she doesn’t appreciate any of it.
“I’m happy here,” she says. “Please, Lucifer.”
“You will only be happy with me!” I whisper savagely, and I dig the blade into her neck without cutting her.
“No!” she screams. “Help me! Someone help me!”
“Damn it, Emily. Why?”
She continues screaming. I can’t hurt her. I never want to hurt her. I love her. But if she doesn’t stop screaming, what choice will I have?
Her screams bring security officers, as I knew they would.
I resist the niggling at the back of my neck. I could leave now. Let her go and hightail it out of here. I have the ability. You don’t do what I do on a daily basis and not know how to make yourself invisible when you need to.
But letting her go…
Not a viable option. She’s mine. She belongs to me and no one else.
More security surrounds us as spectators are shooed away.
“Put the knife down,” one of the officers says. “Put it down and we’ll talk. You don’t come out of this alive if you don’t.”
“Fuck off!” I shout.
Emily goes more rigid against me. Something changed. Does she see someone? Someone who means something to her? The man whose shirt she’s wearing?
The slithering anger snakes through me. I’ll fucking end him.
“Emily!” A man’s voice.
Emily shakes her head slightly. Is she communicating with him? Damn it!
“Emily!” The voice again, this time hoarser.
“Who is that?” I whisper. “Tell me who it is so I can end you both.”
She shakes her head vehemently.
“Let her go!” Again the damned voice. “Take me instead!”
A security guard grabs a man—a dark-haired man wearing board shorts and no shirt.
The anger again. So much anger. So that’s him. A fucking surfer boy. An island bum. Really, Emily?
The officer pulls him away, beyond where they’ve taped off the area. He paces around, raking his fingers through his hair.
“That?” I say to Emily. “That’s who you’re fucking?”
She doesn’t respond. Still stays rigid. The blade knicks her skin slightly.
“Damn it,” I say. “You’ve made me hurt you.”
“You always hurt me, Lucifer,” she says. “Always.”
“No. You make me do this. You make me.”
The island guy again, and he’s mouthing words to her. I love you.
No fucking way. He can’t have her. He can’t have what’s mine.
God, I need a drink—a fucking shitload of bourbon will get me through this. I think again about releasing her. I can still run, still get away.
“Let her go,” an officer with a bullhorn shouts. “You hurt her, you go down.”
“If I die, we both die!” I shout back.
Surfer boy runs then, crashes through the taped boundary, and—
A gunshot.
Fuck.
A gunshot.
Pain lances through me, but I hold steady. I hold steady… I hold steady…
But my brain has no more control over my body, and the knife… The knife… It falls from my grasp, tumbles to the ground.
In slow motion.
All in slow motion.
Emily runs away.
Away from me.
And I fall…into nothing.
4
KATELYN
I wake up to the warmth of the morning sun on my face. The light from Luke’s lone window streams in, casting a luminescent veil over the small studio.
Instinctively, I reach for him.
Then I jerk upward. “Luke?”
The bathroom door is closed. He’ll be out in a moment.
I crawl over to the edge of the bed and sit up.