I don’t meet him that night. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Too many nights pass with me sitting by the window watching him enter Atomic Buzz. But he’s always there, always looking up at my window before he walks inside, and always glancing toward my position in the shadows when he leaves hours later.

I’ve tried to focus. I’ve pulled out all the memories I have on Jacob from the box hidden beneath the floorboards under my bed. I’ve scattered the newspaper clippings, the grainy photos, the family tree, and covered my living room floor, my coffee table, and the sofa.

Those papers have lain untouched for days.

I’ve attempted to find dirt on the name Dan mentioned—Vaughn. Zeke or Zander or Zack. Nothing comes up. Jacob York had successfully disappeared, and this new Vaughn alias is a ghost. Or maybe the lead was a lie.

Either way, it cost Dan his life and has now trapped me in a tighter cage of paranoia. I haven’t left my apartment in days. I’m constantly alert, always on the lookout for anyone suspicious approaching my building. I reach for my gun whenever my phone vibrates with a notification that my door surveillance camera has been triggered. And sleep… Well, let’s just say sleep and I aren’t friends anymore.

I need to get a grip, but there’s no grounding here. Each day that inches closer to Dan’s funeral compacts the emotional instability clogging my veins. I’ve followed the investigation. Doctors say he suffered a dissected carotid artery from a blunt force trauma that led to a blood clot being carried to the brain.

The blunt force trauma was from me.

His death was a result of the injuries I’d inflicted.

He literally died at my hands, and as I look down at my palms, I can see the damage I’ve caused. My fingers seem savage. Less feminine, and now tarnished with brutality.

His funeral will be held the day after tomorrow, and I can’t stomach the mental images my overly creative mind conjures. All those people who will mourn a depraved man. All the tears. All that misplaced heartache.

He should’ve lived to endure his punishment.

I drag my gaze back outside and stare at Brent’s bar. Thoughts of the mystery man are the only thing capable of temporarily wiping away the anger. Even when he’s not there, I can see him walking through those doors, glancing up at me.

I need to get a grip. No. I have to escape and clear my head. Even if just for a day.

I shove from the window ledge, grab my coat, and leave my apartment for the first time in days. I linger in the lobby, stalking the sidewalk like a deranged mental patient as I scan the roads and sidewalk for police. A suspect hasn’t been announced yet, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have one.

I could be on any number of radars—authorities and Dan’s family.

I slip outside, the weight of a million stares on my shoulders even though fewer than ten people are in sight. I hustle across the road, my jacket collar high and my head low as I enter Atomic Buzz.

Inside, I’m relieved there’s only two of the regulars drinking away their sorrows. I approach the bar and slide onto a seat. “Hey, Brent.”

He pauses in the middle of stacking racks of glasses on the far counter and turns my way. “You’re back twice in one month. What did I do to earn the honor?”

“I actually came to ask a favor.”

He places the rack down and dusts his hands. “What’s up?”

A lump forms in my throat. I hadn’t realized asking for help would be difficult. Favors build connections, and I seem to be making too many of them lately.

“I know it’s late notice, but can I borrow your car tomorrow?”

“You heading back to Seattle to see your family?”

The lump grows, increasing the need to swallow.

He remembers. Of course he does. He listens to every word I say. He cares about me, even when he shouldn’t.

“Yeah. Just a quick day trip. I’ll have your car back before you close tomorrow night. I’ll make sure to fill it with gas and give you cash for the cab rides you’ll need while I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry about the money. You know you can borrow anything you want, whenever you like.”

I nod and lower my gaze in an attempt to ditch his lingering stare.

“You look tired,” he adds. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep,” I answer without thought. “I just didn’t want to rent a car at late notice. By the time I get to the lot and find—”

“I’m not talking about the car.”

I assumed as much.

I paste on a confident smile and lift my gaze. “Everything is super-dooper perfect. I couldn’t be better.”

Go hard or go home, right?

His eyes narrow, not buying my bullshit, and I hold the expression like a motherfucker, unwilling to lose this battle. I can’t handle his concern on top of everything else. I simply can’t.

Eventually, he nods. “Have you seen that man of yours is hanging around a lot? I think I’ve doubled my income this week because of him alone.”

I scowl. Maybe I should’ve held more interest in learning mystery man’s name because calling him ‘my man’ isn’t a trend I’m down with. “He’s not mine.”

Brent shrugs and grabs a liquor bottle from under the bar. He pours a nip, then grabs another bottle and another, finally filling it with soda before he slides the concoction toward me. “It sure looked that way when he left your building last week.”

Last week? Geez, I’ve been hermitting my life away for longer than I thought. “I kicked him out the night we left here together.”

“I know.” He gives a conniving smile. “He told me.”

“He did?” I shuffle forward, not realizing my mistake of showing my piqued interest until it’s too late. And now I can’t be bothered hiding my intrigue. “What did he say?”

That smile turns to a grin. “He told me he likes you. That you were different. But he also said he wouldn’t apologize for carrying a gun because he was here to protect his family.”

“He told you about the gun?” Christ. The guy acts as if every word he utters is a secret, yet he happily blurts the details to Brent. Maybe the whole recluse act is just that—an act to hold my interest. “I don’t believe it.”

“What part don’t you believe?” he asks.

I don’t want to believe any of it. I don’t need to think about him liking me when he’s already become my only comforting thought through this hellish week. I don’t want my opinion of his gun to change, either. I’ve made a lot of my judgements about him based on his sinister intent with a deadly weapon. I’ve branded him dangerous because of that firearm.

If he only carried to protect his sister…

If he truly is a non-violent man…

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

“What now?”

“Nothing.” I grasp the drink and sip. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

“He seems like a genuine guy.”

Genuine? In what? To me, the guy seems genuinely bad news. Genuinely toxic to my concentration. Genuinely a huge fucking mistake with his overly inquisitive nature.

I transition from a sip to a gulp, chugging the alcohol until it’s all gone. “This isn’t a conversation we’re going to have.” I push my glass toward him and slide off the chair. “Is it still okay to borrow your car?”

Brent chuckles and retrieves a set of keys from a hook on the back wall. “Sure.” He lobs the prize at me. “Drive safe.”

I catch the offering, along with a relaxing sense of relief at the enabling escapism. “Thanks.”

I pull out the cash I’ve stashed in my jeans and place it on the bar. “For the cab rides and the drink.”

“You know I don’t want your money.”

“And you know I don’t want to hear your protests.” I kinda love this guy. He’s my only friend, no matter how disillusioned he is by the lies I’ve told. “I’ll return the keys as soon as I get back.”

“Don’t rush. I can deal without a car if you need it longer.”

“You’re too damn good to me.” I wink at him and make for the door, energized to get out of this city for a while. I’ll leave before daybreak, clear my head with the three-hour drive, lick old wounds while I visit my family, then return home with a plan for the future.

I push open the door to the street, and the heavy glass falls away under the hand pulling from the other side.

“Hey.” The deep, familiar voice slays me. Grips me. Punishes me.

I ignore the temptation to fall into lust and continue onto the sidewalk, only chancing a brief glance at my mystery man.

A brief glance is all it takes for his image to sear my retinas—worn, ripped jeans, a black jacket with the cuffs hitched a few inches up his tanned forearms, and a white T-shirt beneath that hugs his chest. “You’re drinking earlier than usual tonight.”

He releases the door, remaining outside as I pivot my attention toward the curb and watch for traffic. The light crunch of his steps follows me. Intuition tells me he’s a foot away. I can feel him. Sense him. His interest raises the hair on the back of my neck and makes me shudder.

“You been watching me, princess?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I don’t mind the attention.”

I roll my eyes and turn to face him. “I’ve gotta go.”

In a blink, the subtle humor glistening in those hazel irises is gone, and a delicious scowl takes its place. “You’re not going to join me for a drink?”

“Not tonight.” Not any night. Not when my stomach turns in knots whenever he’s close. I step onto the road, wait for a passing car, then jog to my side of the street. I’m yanking at my own ripcord, trying to fast-track my departure, but my heart is thumping in excitement, ignoring the inevitable crash and burn that will happen if I don’t get out of here.

“Then when?” The question comes from right behind me. “What’s got you in such a hurry to leave…again?”

Shit.

“I’ve got a big day tomorrow. I need to get up early.” I reach my building and enter the pin code into the keypad. The panel beeps, the lock clicks in release, and I pull the door wide, only to have his fierce hand push it shut.

I stiffen, all my muscles frozen and humming as I drown under his intense stare.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.

I sigh and fight the good fight, trying not to lick my lower lip to give him the encouragement we both crave. “I’m heading out of town.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raises a brow. “Where are you headed?”

Far away from his questions, his interest, and his temptation. I can’t keep encouraging the distraction. As much as I want to deny it, I thoroughly enjoy his attention. I’m suffocating in my need to breathe him deep, and not just into my lungs—into my life.

I shouldn’t have to remind myself it’s imperative to lay low and focus. The police are looking for me, whether they know it or not. And I have to find Jacob before karma deals me a heavy punishment.

But this man sees more than he should. Those hands touch more than I want to allow. And whatever is going on in that mind of his is sure to create havoc.

No more.

I hitch my chin high. “I’m visiting my boyfriend.”

How do you like them apples?

The tight clench of his jaw is a blatant sign he doesn’t like my apples at all.

“Is that right?” he snarls.

“Yep.”

His nostrils flare, and he licks his lower lip in such a delightfully slow roll of predatory intent that I have to squeeze my thighs together to stem the growing throb.

“And this boyfriend of yours, does he mind that you’re fucking me?”

Chills. So many chills.

“Fucked,” I clarify. “We did it once, and it was a mistake.”

He steps closer, looming over me. “That’s not the vibe I’m getting.”

I squeak internally. On the outside, I stare like a motherfucker. “Really?” I inch into him, straightening my shoulders, raising my chin. “You’re looming over me, glaring. To me, the only vibe here is threatening.”

He flashes a smirk. “And I bet you’re wet as hell because of it.”

Touché, asshole.

I turn my back and re-enter the pin code into the keypad. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

The panel beeps, the lock releases, but he’s pressed into me before I can reach for the door, his thighs nestled behind mine, his chest against my back.

“Say it to my face,” he demands.

My heart races, the rapid beat out of control. I swallow, knowing a believable declaration will be difficult to achieve. Hard, because this prick has my ovaries in his tight-fisted grip, but not impossible.

I turn, my brows raised in superiority. “I. Don’t. Want. You.”

I plaster myself to the wall, hoping for distance. He’s hot. Scorching. Every inch of his body pressed into mine is an inch of heavenly connection.

He leans closer, his breath warming my lips. “Bullshit.”

I want to succumb, to surrender to his erotic distraction but…

He strips the decision away from me, charging forward, taking my mouth with his. He steals my breath, his tongue swiping my lips to demand immediate entrance.

Goddamnit.

I can’t deny him. I can’t deny myself. I’m going down with this ship. Going down faster and harder than a cheerleader on prom night.

I grip his jacket, kissing him as if my life depends on the enthusiasm I place into our contact.

He growls, the rumble of his chest vibrating through me. He pushes me harder into the wall and grips my hips, his fingers digging into my jeans. His erection grinds against my pubic bone, making me want to beg.

No matter how risky or careless or insane, I want this man. I need him, if only to uplift me for those few short moments before I come crashing back down.

He retreats, retracting his devilish affection in a slap of withdrawal. His heavy breathing brushes my lips, my chin, my cheeks. Those fingers continue to dig into me. The light from inside highlights the flecks of color in his eyes, the greens, the browns as he stares at me with such sweet bewilderment that I know he thinks this is crazy, too.

I’ve kicked him out of my apartment and thrown his gun out a window. I’ve vomited in front of him, then launched into attack mode, before falling into bed in a mass of our tangled limbs.

This doesn’t make sense. It’s not what attraction is supposed to be. But attraction is what it is.

“Lie to me again,” he murmurs. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

My heart climbs into my throat, restricting, suffocating.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you could,” he taunts, releasing my hips. His fingers find the waistband of my jeans, unclasping the button, lowering the zipper. A hand delves into my pants, beneath my panties, sliding straight to my pussy.

I gasp, not in shock, in undiluted pleasure. Everything tingles. Vibrates.

“For someone who doesn’t want me, you sure are wet.”

His fingers plunge inside me, two or three, I’m not sure. I’m too focused on grasping his shoulders to stop myself from crumpling to the floor. He twists, pulses, strokes. He pulls no stops in his masterful manipulation as he peers down at me, stalking my expression.

I want to succumb, not just physically, but emotionally, too. I want to admit how I feel. To tell him the tiny morsels of time in his presence are like a feast to my starving soul.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, caging those words inside.

“You fucking want me,” he snarls. “I bet you want me more than any other guy.”

I close my eyes and grip him tight. Those talented fingers don’t stop moving. The heat of his stare doesn’t fade.

I’m falling, yet soaring. I’m hurting, yet drowning in the most exquisite pleasure. There’s no life. No past. No future.

There’s only now. Only ecstasy. Only sexual possibility.

We should take this upstairs. We could. If only my secrets weren’t scattered over the floor in a mass of devastation.

The door swings open in a swoosh of noise and displaced air. I snap my eyes open and freeze when I see a woman standing there, gaping.

Mystery man shoves his shoulder into the wall, plastering his body to mine. He covers me, hiding what he’s doing without stopping the pulse of his fingers for even a second.

“Get out of here,” he snarls at her.

Protective. Oh, so protective.

I could swoon. Instead, my body trembles. I know nothing about this man, and yet he slays me. “Tell me your name.”

His fingers plunge deeper as he holds my gaze. “Why? You’ve never shown any interest before.”

I pant, my breathing fractured. “Well, I’m interested now.” I need something to call him. Something other than ‘my mystery man.’ I have to dissociate him from being mine at all.

He releases a barely audible chuckle. “If I tell you my name, will you promise to scream it when I make you come?”

I shake my head. “No.” No way in hell. I’m out in the open, probably in view of Brent and those drunks who would be getting the show of their life. Not to mention the current state of my soaked panties is already a big enough compliment to satisfy even the largest ego. “I won’t.”

His fingers stop moving in a harsh threat. “Then whisper it for only me to hear.”

Oh, God. My restraint snaps, and I moan in agreement. There’s no will to deny him. Not when it’s a mere whisper of surrender.

“Promise.” His thumb flicks over my clit, igniting a pulse of wildfire.

“I will,” I blurt. “I promise.”

“Good.” He leans closer, the rough stubble of his cheek brushing mine. His lips gently slide over my ear. “You can call me Hunter.”

I whimper.

Hunter.

What a fucking seductive name. So much better than Jim or Jeff or Bill.

He twists those fingers, deeper, faster, the pad of his thumb pressing harder on my clit.

“Hunter,” I whisper in warning. I’m close, nudging the precipice.

He inches back and gazes down at me, his eyes intent, his lips tight. God, I want to fuck him. I want to pull him close and kiss and kiss and kiss until I feel my soul return.

“What, princess?”

“Hunter.” I can’t say anything else. I can’t think anything else. “Oh, God, Hunter.”

I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall as my pussy clamps tight. My core contracts over and over, the height of bliss hitting me as he leans his body into mine to keep me upright.

He doesn’t stop fingering me. Those digits pulse. His thumb continues to work my clit.

I cling to him, my mouth finding his neck, my teeth digging into his flesh. I taste. I feel. I become invigorated. All because of this man.

The realization lessens the bliss, guiding me down from my peak in a gentle descent. I whimper as he holds me in one arm, his other hand still filling me.

“You done?” he murmurs.

My voice is lost to pleasure, my throat too tight to speak. I nod and meet his taut expression, noticing the wild, restrained lust in those harsh eyes.

“Good.” He pulls away and steps back. His jaw ticks as he adjusts his cock, the thick outline of his erection bulging at his zipper. Then, without a goodbye, he turns and walks away muttering, “Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”