While She Sleeps: The Dirty Heroes Collection Page 4

  The moment his words halt, a cold shiver races down my spine, and I spin around, finding nobody there. Not a shadow, not even a noise of his shoes moving away. I’m on my feet in seconds, running down the hilltop, but I don’t see anyone who could be the man who just gave me my ultimate fantasy with mere words. I’m alone, my panties are wet, and all I can think about is him doing all those things he promised me.

  I stand there in the dark, wrapping my arms around my middle, and I wonder if he’s watching me from the shadows. If he’s there, hiding and waiting. Would he steal me? Would he break into my bedroom and really do that?

  I make my way home with my head still filled with the images he painted with his deep voice. Every utterance causing goosebumps to rise in the wake of his pained promise. He obviously doesn’t work for Mr. Oakridge. He couldn’t, because if he did, he would’ve snatched me right there in the park. He would’ve hurt me. But what doesn’t make sense is why he ran.

  5

  Logan

  She’s fucking with my head. I was so close to showing her who I am. The same man who snubbed her years ago. But she’s no longer the little girl I recall looking up at me like I was her savior. Now she’s a grown woman looking for a prince. But I’m so far from royalty, my needs far more dangerous than she can even fathom.

  I pick up my cell phone and turn it on. I needed to get away from her the moment I told her my fantasy of how I’d love to find pleasure with her body unmoving, her sleeping form merely a toy for my amusement.

  I tap out a message to the one man I can still trust. He may have previously worked for my father, but I’ve known him since I was a kid. He was the one who helped me track my beauty, and now he’s going to ensure that this arranged marriage farce is dealt with. I need to know who she’s been promised to, and the moment I find out the name, I’ll gut the asshole myself.

  My phone rings five minutes after I hit send. I grin as his name comes up on the screen, and I answer immediately. “What’s up, fucker?”

  “You are contacting me, so that means something is bothering you, Logan,” he speaks in the thick accent I’ve come to know well. We grew up together. We’re both heading toward our thirties, and when we were younger, we promised the other that our friendship far outweighed the bullshit of our parents.

  “I made contact with her. I spoke to her,” I tell him urgently. I’m sure he can tell from the sound of my voice I’m concerned. “She said something to me that’s got me thinking—”

  “Is this about her engagement that her father had promised?”

  “You knew about it? Who is it? I need to know because the moment you give me a name, I’ll find the asshole, and I’ll make sure he sings like a goddamned canary.”

  Dax sighs on the other end of the line. “I did know, but the problem is, you can’t kill the man she’s been promised to.”

  “What? Why?”

  He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder what the fuck he’s hiding from me. The dickhead may be my friend, but he needs to tell me right the fuck now.

  “She ran off just before her eighteenth birthday, and he’s been searching for her ever since. If he finds her . . .” His warning is clear, even though he doesn’t finish the sentence, I know Vera is in danger. Real danger, not the playful, roleplaying that she needs so badly. “The man in question, he’s not someone you want to fuck with.”

  “Dax, I’m not fucking around any—”

  “It’s your father.”

  The breath whooshes out of me in one heavy swoop. He has to be fucking kidding me. My father with Vera? What the fuck is he thinking? Surely, my mother knows about it. She has to. Perhaps that’s why she’s been calling me nonstop.

  My mind calculates the fallout from this. If my father wants her, he’ll have to go through me. I may have walked away from her once, but I’m not doing that again. There is no love lost between my dad and me, and this would definitely kill any lingering doubt.

  “What if I took her?”

  “Then it will be your head he’s searching for,” Dax warns. “Listen to me, Logan, I may have done some stupid shit before, but this is taking on the king. You do realize that it could get you killed,” he tells me.

  This is not news to me. My father has the connections, he has a fucking army behind him, and me, all I have is her. But then again, once she learns who I am, she’ll only hate me even more.

  “I know. I . . . I need to do this.”

  “He’s going to be at the club tonight. I can try to get some information out of him. He still trusts me even though Theia’s dad was his friend.” Dax can do this. Theia, Dax’s submissive, grew up around the same men Vera did. Dangerous and violent. And her father was one of the worst. Thankfully, her brothers, Samael and Kael, didn’t turn out like their dad.

  “He can’t know where I am, Dax.”

  “I’m not going to throw you into the lion’s den,” he tells me. “And you know I have the Wolfes on our side.” He’s talking about Samael, Axel, and Kael. They’ll step in if needed. I haven’t seen them in years.

  “Do it. Just leave her out of whatever the hell you’re going to talk to him about. I don’t want her name coming up. If it does, shut it down. Contact me once you have more.”

  “What will you do with the girl?” he asks, knowing I can’t let her be captured by my father and his fucking squad of murderers.

  I don’t have to think twice about my answer, and it falls freely from my lips. “Take her and keep her.” He knows what that means. Sometimes, to be the hero, you have to be the villain too. And nobody knows that better than the man I’m currently talking to.

  “Fine. Don’t show your face around until I contact you.”

  I nod before realizing he can’t see me. “Sure, I’ll wait.”

  I have to somehow get her alone again. Once I can, I’ll snatch her and keep her safe. Her life hangs in the balance. The sooner I can get her out of this town, the easier it will be to let Dax do his thing.

  “Will you handle Herbert?”

  “With pleasure.” I hear the satisfaction in his voice. I’m not averse to getting my hands bloody, but my focus is on Vera. Having her safely stowed away will be best for her. But for me, it might just fucking kill me.

  “Good luck,” I tell him.

  “I don’t need luck, Logan.” I nod even though I know he can’t see me. I hang up before he has time to say anything more. I’m about to kidnap the woman who’s trusted me so far. Would that break her trust? Or will she be able to see this for what it is—me saving her life?

  I open my laptop, log into the browser, and find a message from her.

  SB: You ran. I wanted to see you. Those things you said, you didn’t scare me. Perhaps you’re right. I’m a stupid little girl who’s about to get herself into trouble. But all I needed, ached for, was to see your face as you told me those desires. They’re dark, but they’re something I need to hear, that I want to hear. Is that something you promise? Or is it something you told me to make me ache for you even more? Tell me . . .

  She’s slowly flaying me open, giving me the answers I crave so badly. The monster inside bares his teeth, and I can’t stop the growl that vibrates through my chest. She’s unnerving me. How can someone so young, so innocent and naïve, crave such darkness?

  I sit back and decide how to respond. She already trusts me, but to steal her away from a life she’s built for herself is another thing altogether. She believes I walked away all those years ago because I thought she wasn’t good enough, but she couldn’t be more wrong about that.

  Besides the anger toward my father, it was the fact that I knew she’d grow up to be pure. And I would be the impurity that would only corrupt her. But now that I’ve made contact, I can’t just leave her here to be taken by that old asshole. And there’s about to be a war, where my beauty will be used against me.

  I finally decide on my response. I need her to accept that her life will be with me, hidden in the shadows until Dax can finish this war we
’re about to wage on my father. He doesn’t realize I’m still in contact with Dax, and thankfully, my friend isn’t going to tell him.

  I have time, but I need to make my move soon. They’re not going to sit around and wait for me to decide between doing right and wrong. They’re going to attack, and I need Vera to be safe by the time that happens.

  So, with a sigh, I allow my fingers to offer her a response, as it bleeds directly from my heart.

  BP: You shouldn’t ache for a monster, Beauty. It’s what will get you hurt, maybe even killed. My face is unimportant because the moment you see it, our fantasy is over. Isn’t this meant to be just that—a fantasy? This is no longer a game to me. Your scent drove me wild with need; your sweetness and purity will be tarnished with my darkness and violence. I need you to tell me honestly . . . Is this something you want? Me? Because if it is, I’ll make it so. The fear that turns you on will intensify. I’m not a gentle man. I’m not a soft and affectionate person. When I take you, and yes, that’s a when not an if, it will be harsh and brutish. I will push your limits and test your boundaries. And when I’m done, you’ll be mine. Tell me, yes, and I’ll come for you.

  After I hit send, I picture her sitting on her bed, reading my words. I even imagine her touching herself to the dark promises, because I know that’s what she would do. I want to see what she looks like when her body finds release. I want to watch her shiver and tremble as she comes wildly, bucking her hips. And I want to be the one who does that to her.

  My father will never lay his hands on her.

  She was mine first, and she will be mine last.

  6

  Vera

  I don’t know how many times I’ve read his words. Again, and again, yet my body still responds the same way—with desire. Even though he promises pain, I have a feeling it’s more a warning of what he is capable of than what he will do to me.

  I have a gut feeling about him. Something that hits deep in my soul, and I wonder if I know this man from somewhere else. He asked about my past, about the reason I believed my suitor didn’t want me. He listened so silently; I wonder if he was cursing the man who walked away from me.

  I never knew why he left. My father never spoke of him again, but I know his friendship with the boy’s father was still strong after that day. I don’t recall why my father never unfriended the man afterward, but I remember the boy, Logan Phillip Oakridge. When I was older and I knew more about him, learning that he was known as the prince in Chicago, and his father a king of the criminal world, I was shocked. My father wouldn’t sell me off to someone like that, but when Herbert walked in, I realized my father would’ve given me to anyone just to keep them happy.

  I sat in Dad’s office while he signed the agreement that I would become an Oakridge. I was a pawn in a game I had no experience playing. They all saw me as a little girl—innocent and stupid—yet they didn’t realize I’m as intelligent as they are. I knew how to do my homework—I would snoop into my father’s documents, read up all I could, and I taught myself what the business my dad dealt in truly was.

  He had friends in bad places. They weren’t the average businessmen you saw walking into high rises in the city. They were the men who hid in the shadows until nightfall to take what wasn’t theirs to take.

  I pick up the mug I set down earlier, taking a sip of the now-cold coffee. I can’t tear my gaze away from the computer screen, yet I’m zoning out, thinking back to all those times I found more and more information on what my father was doing.

  When he got arrested, I wasn’t angry because I knew he wasn’t a good man. Anyone who works with Herbert isn’t good. But this stranger, he’s not like them. Then again, I don’t know if I can trust my gut right now.

  SB: I want that, but . . . It’s only been two days. I wanted to see your face to know who you are. Is that so wrong since you know who I am? I’ve grown up around bad men, but when I was with you, near you, I didn’t get the feeling you were all that bad. Why do you persist on warning me away from you? I may only be twenty, but I’m far from stupid. I had to grow up fast, and I have a feeling you know more about that than you’re letting on. If you know so much about me already, you’ll know I’m hiding. I’m running from my past. But then again, so are you. Aren’t you?

  I hit send, unsure what he’s going to say to that, but I want the truth. If he can’t give me that, then this ends right here. Confusion settles in my mind. I sip the coffee, wincing at the coolness of it, but I don’t get up to heat it or grab a new mug. Instead, I sit and watch the screen until the ding sounds.

  BP: I know more about running than most. And yes, I do know you’re hiding. The question is—why would you trust me when you’re running from a man? What if I’m working for him? What if I hurt you, physically? I want nothing more than to steal you away, Beauty. I’d like to take you to a place where no one will ever find you, but the moment I do that, you’re putting your fragile life in my hands. Is that something you can live with?

  He’s right. He still could hurt me, kill me even. But that would happen the moment Herbert walks in here and takes me anyway. A man like that won’t accept that a woman doesn’t want him. He’s ruthless, but I have a feeling this man, this stranger, is not the same. I can’t explain what I feel for my Broken Prince.

  SB: Then, I’ll take my chances with you rather than him. You don’t understand the danger my life is already in. You may know things about me, but you can never fathom the perils I could face if these people find me. Do you work for him? Perhaps. Would you kill me? Maybe. But you had the chance only hours ago, yet you didn’t take it. Why is that?

  I hit send before I get up and head to the kitchen. I’ve done stupid things before, but this is by far the most intense of them all. Since running away, I’ve been careful about who I contact, knowing anyone could be working for the Oakridges.

  I wish I had someone to call. Someone I could trust. But there’s no one in my life. My father made sure I was alone, and when I left, I walked out with nothing except the money Herbert didn’t know about.

  If my father ever did one good thing in his life, it would be that. The message I’ve been waiting for comes through at that moment, and I settle on the sofa, pick up my laptop, and set it on my crossed legs.

  BP: I had a chance to do a lot, but I’m not that kind of man. When I take you, it will be because you want it. I’m worried that you’re walking into this with your eyes closed because you think you know what bad men do. Maybe you do, but you have to take care of yourself. Think about the future rather than the need you have right now. If I were at your door right this minute, would you run, Beauty?

  I ponder this. I’m very aware that this is dangerous, yet I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know this man. More so than I already do. But I don’t respond just yet, I shut my laptop and curl up on the couch with my blanket and close my eyes. It’s dark out, and today has been tiring. My eyes flutter, and a familiar shiver trickles its way down my back.

  * * *

  I startle awake, a noise drawing me out of dreams of a faceless stranger. I blink once, twice, and by the third time, I open my eyes to find I’m still on the couch. But the curtain is blowing in the early morning breeze, causing me to shiver.

  The sun is just about peeking over the horizon, and the sky is a strange purple-orange blend of shades. Furrowing my brow, I push off the cushions and head to the window, shutting it with a loud thud.

  My heart catapults when I see a shadow moving from the building, where the fire escape ladder squeaks, as the figure races down the road. I can’t make out who it is, but I have a feeling it’s someone I know. Perhaps not personally, but I know him better than he thinks.

  I head into the kitchen once the window is latched and flick on the Keurig machine. Setting the mug under the drip, I look out the kitchen window and stare at the gray clouds fighting their way in front of the rising sun.

  I think back to last night and the message from the stranger. I wonder what his name
is. He hasn’t told me that. And I figure I need to ask him again. When I brought it up before, he brushed it off, refusing to answer my question, yet he knows who I am.

  In the living room, I grab my laptop and set it on my desk before settling into my chair. Opening the lid, I turn it on and log in. I open my emails first, finding one from my lecturer asking about my assignment. I’m falling behind, and I blame my intrigue on the stranger. Once I’ve responded asking for an extension, I allow my Word app to open while I tap out the website address I’ve wanted to visit since I first logged in.

  The moment my profile blinks on, a messenger window opens, and I see he’s online. My heart thrums against my ribs, reminding me of why I’m awake so early. The noise, the window, and the shadowy figure racing from my apartment building.

  BP: Good morning, Beauty.

  I smile at the name that he’s taken to calling me, but then a frown mars my happy face.

  SB: Were you at my window this morning?

  BP: Cutting right to the chase? I like it. Yes, I was.

  Again, my heart attacks my ribs. Did he break into my apartment?

  SB: Why? You woke me up with a noise. Did you mean to?

  BP: I didn’t. I like watching you sleep. Do you remember the first time I told you about my desires?