Deadly Fear (Deadly 1)

But he wouldn’t just give her those words. He’d tell Monica everything. “The man who killed her… he was a serial. No one knew. He’d killed three women in Texas, then one in Arkansas. He was killing them when he was with my mom. Then he killed her.” She’d been so beautiful. Tall and blond, with a slow smile that he loved. She’d read him stories at night. Always tucked him in.

And she’d died right in front of him.

“My grandfather raised me. My dad was in the military. When mom died, I don’t even know where he was. But my grandfather taught me how to live. How to be strong.” Grandpop had helped him to channel the rage. “Focus son, stop the ones who need stopping. Make a difference.”

He’d tried. Was still trying.

Monica’s fingertips traced over his chest. “You are strong.”

He caught her fingers, pressed them against his chest. “Did you mean it?”

A soft laugh. One he hadn’t heard enough. One that sent a quiver straight to his groin and had his c**k twitching. Like once was ever enough with her. “Yes, Luke, I think you’re—”

“No.” He wanted the light then so he could see her eyes. “Do you love me?” If she didn’t, they’d work on that. He could give her time. He would give her anything.

Her lips feathered over his jaw. “Dante, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. The only one I ever will.”

His heart slammed into his chest. She had to feel the desperate lurch. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

That light laugh again, rubbing over his flesh. “I guess I was scared. But you know what? I’m not afraid now.”

Her lips took his, and she kissed him. Deep and long and sweet.

He held her as tight as he could and knew that he’d never be letting Monica Davenport go.

Finally, he had her right where he wanted her. In his arms. In his bed.

In his heart.

When Dennis Myers was led through the heavy metal doors, Monica locked her gaze with his. He wore a bright orange prison uniform, one that made his skin appear too pale, almost stark white. His hair had receded on top and thinned out on the sides. He was too skinny, almost skeletal.

Shackles were around his wrists, linked with a thin chain to those bonds on his ankles. He shuffled toward her and a smile split his face, flashing the dimples that time hadn’t changed. “My girl finally came to see me.”

And Romeo sat down in front of her.

His blue eyes were bloodshot, and his perfect nose was twisted, probably broken from fights in prison.

He hadn’t fared so well at Angola.

She smiled back at him. “Hello, Dennis.”

His grin dimmed a bit. He’d always made her call him Romeo.

But he wasn’t a Romeo anymore. He was just a man, older, thinner, trapped behind bars—where he’d stay forever.

“I knew you’d come to see me.” His gaze slid over her. “Knew you couldn’t stay away.”

A chair screeched as Luke hauled it closer to the table.

Dennis’s gaze jerked to him. “Who the hell are you?”

She caught the flash of teeth Luke bared at him. “The man who’d love to rip you apart.”

Dennis shrank back against the chair a bit. “Guards, you hear that? He’s threatening me. I want him out of here. I want him—”

Monica slammed her palms down on the table.

Dennis blinked.

“You’re not calling the shots anymore.” Her gaze bored into him. She waited a beat, then leaned toward him. She caught the heavy scent of his sweat. “You don’t seem surprised I’m still alive.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, and he inched forward. “Because you’re mine,” he whispered. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. I trained you. I made you.”

Her stomach clenched. “But you sent Kyle after me anyway, didn’t you?”

His gaze slid to Luke. Back to her. “Guess he’ll be joining me, huh?”

“No. Kyle West is dead.”

His nails dug into the table. “You killed him?” A laugh. “I knew, I knew it was in you. You wanted a taste of your own, didn’t you? To see what the power was like.” His head came even closer, like a snake coming for his prey. “How many? Huh? How many have you had?”

How many kills.

Monica shook her head. “I’m not like you.” Simple, and all there was for her to say. “And I’m not like Kyle.”

“Kyle was weak! A wanna-be! He thought he could be like me, but I had to tell him everything! How to build the fear, how to find the prey. He wouldn’t have been able to start over as a damn deputy if I hadn’t told him how to off that other bastard!”

Ah, now here we go. Romeo had always liked to talk. Made him feel important. Powerful. Had to share his crimes. He couldn’t stand it if no one knew just how great he was.

“I had to hand feed him every damn bit of information. He didn’t know anything. I’m the one who told him about the precious SSD, about that prick Hyde and—”

And now she had everything she needed. “That’s all.” She nodded to the guards. “You can take him back now.” Really, he’d been so smart once. Always staying a step ahead of the cops. Maybe prison had broken his mind as well as his body.

But then, his mind had always been broken. Twisted beyond repair.

He shook his head, and his jaw dropped. “Wh-what? You’re not leaving me!” He surged to his feet. Lunged forward. “I’ve waited for you. You’re not—”

Luke punched him in the face. Bones crushed. Blood gushed from Dennis’s nose.

And down he went, slamming his chin on the table.

“You boys had better move to secure him faster next time,” Luke snapped to the guards.

Monica stared at the killer. He was swearing, screaming and spitting. Not the poised lover who’d lured the girls. A criminal who was lost without power over his prey.

The guards hoisted him back to his feet.

“I’ll sue your ass!” he yelled at Luke. “You can’t—”

“You tried to attack me.” Monica shrugged and kept her voice ice cold. “You’re just lucky he didn’t use lethal force.”

That shut him up.

“There are some things you should know, Dennis.” She picked up her bag and strolled toward the door. Luke followed right behind her. She paused, then glanced back at the man who’d tried to break her. “There will be no more visitors, unless it’s your attorney. Your real attorney who will be verified by three ID checks before he’s allowed inside the premises.” No more women who wanted to screw a killer. No more wanna-bes lapping up his every word.