Deadly Lies (Deadly 3)

She swallowed.

He touched her neck. His hand stroked that soft column, and he left his bloody fingerprints on her flesh.

He’d have to clean the blood up soon.

All of it.

She glanced at the chair behind him, almost helplessly. “You… like this too much.”

His fingers tightened around her throat until he cut off her air. Fear flickered in her gaze. Smart—because she was right to fear him.

His grin grew. “So do you.” He crushed his mouth to hers and eased his grip, just enough to let her wheeze in some air.

A whimper hung between them.

He took his time with her mouth. Enjoyed it, but this wasn’t the right place. Not for what he had in mind.

And there was more work to do.

His head lifted slowly. “Are we working on the next target?” Because the plan he had—oh, it was going to be good.

So damn good.

The media had his story now. The Feds were watching. He’d give them something special to watch.

She nodded, but wet her lips with a flash of her pink tongue. They’d use that tongue later. “Are you—are you sure this will work?” she asked.

His smile was gone. Really, she shouldn’t have any doubt. “Two for the price of one, love. You can’t beat that deal.”

Do the unexpected. Always keep the enemy off-guard. Lessons he’d learned so long ago.

Do the unexpected.

They’d be profiling him. Planning and plotting and trying to track his next move, but they’d be wrong. Dead wrong.

He tossed his prize into her hands. Her horrified yelp made him laugh. “Have that delivered, will you?”

He had another victim to meet.

Veronica James was shaking as she prepared the package. She hadn’t signed up for this deal. No damn way.

Blood was on her hands.

Shit. She hurried to the sink and turned on the water. The icy cold blasted her as she scrubbed and scrubbed.

He was going too far, he was—

“It’s almost over, love,” his voice whispered from behind her, and Veronica stiffened. The pink water poured down the drain.

The old floor creaked beneath his feet. “A few more days,” he told her, his voice rumbling, “and we’ll be free and clear.”

Her hands were clean now. Blood was surprisingly easy to wash away. If you did it fast enough, there was never any stain. She turned off the water and faced him, her heart pounding too fast in her chest. When she’d first seen him at The Core, she’d thought he would be the perfect target.

Now she knew that she hadn’t been the only one hunting that night.

“Just one more?” she asked him. She couldn’t think about all the things they’d done. All they would do.

She had to focus on survival. Hers. Theirs.

Surival and money. All of that wonderful money would be waiting for her.

He smiled, and it was the same crooked grin that had first caught her attention. “We’ve almost got enough cash for the group. We’ll ditch this f**king town and start over.”

Money. That was what it was all about for her. To finally have enough that she could do whatever she wanted.

His lips skimmed her jaw. Sometimes, he could be so gentle.

And sometimes…

Veronica swallowed and leaned toward him. Her eyes drifted closed.

“You’re with me until the end, aren’t you, love?” He whispered.

She nodded against him.

“I can trust you,” his fingers caught her chin and tipped back her head, “and you can trust me.”

Veronica’s eyes opened.

“You do trust me?” he pressed.

“Yes.” Veronica knew just how dangerous he was, but… not to me. He wouldn’t hurt her. He loved her. He wanted to marry her.

And they were going to be so f**king rich.

She licked her lips. The blood washes away. “I love you,” she told him. He was right. They’d start over again, free and clear, with a shitload of cash. No one would know about the past, and there’d be no blood on her hands ever again.

The phone call didn’t come at ten o’clock. Max stared at the phone on his stepfather’s desk, willing it to ring.

Samantha sat in the chair across from him. Frank was in the den, drinking, having a breakdown—who the hell knew what he was really doing?

“What did you tell them?” Max asked Samantha, forcing his gaze to her.

Her chin lifted. “I let the agent in charge know a victim had been taken, who he was.”

“How.”

“I sent him a text on the way here.”

Ballsy.

“Then I sent him another when we were upstairs, right after the call came.”

And right under his nose. Talk about being a blind idiot. Why wouldn’t the phone ring? Why? He’d been a piss-poor brother, he knew that. He and Quinlan had never gotten along like they should have, but—

But his mom’s last words to him had been, “Watch him.” A week before she’d died, she’d given him her order, and she’d never spoken to him again. Never opened her blue eyes again.

One thing. All she’d ever asked him to do. To watch over the brother that blood hadn’t given him.

And he’d screwed that up. Max exhaled on a long sigh. “I had you wrong, didn’t I?”

“I don’t… know what you mean,” Samantha said hesitantly.

Ten-oh-three a.m.

His gaze sharpened on her. “I thought you were weak. That you were running scared.” The nightmare flashed in his mind. He’d actually wanted to protect her that night. What an idiot. “But I guess it was just some game to you.” His fingers curled around the edge of the desk. “How many men?”

Her brows lifted. “What?”

“How many men have you picked up in bars? How many men have you asked for sex, but not forever? I mean, is that some line you like to use?” Pretty effective.

She leapt out of the chair. “You don’t know me. Do not say—”

“The truth? It can hurt, can’t it?” Why had he been so addicted to her? Why was he still so addicted? He looked, and even in the middle of this twisted hell, he wanted her. He could still taste her on his tongue and smell her on his skin.

You don’t know her.

Sex. That was all they’d had. Sex and lies.

A knock rapped at the door.

Max rose and stormed around the edge of the desk. “Come in!”

Samantha stepped in front of him. She lifted to her tip-toes and kissed him.

His hands came up automatically and clamped down on her arms. The kiss was angry, fierce. Her mouth was closed. His was—