Chapter 8
Saige
Oh, God. Oh…
What had I done?
Why had I stumbled into this nightmare?
My boss was a brutal killer. Yet he didn’t need to use a gun. He was a weapon wrapped in Tom Ford suits and Clark Kent eyeglasses.
He was a man I’d thought devious but tonight proved on an entirely different level.
He rode the line between savage violence and high tension artistic danger.
And did so with utter perfection.
He’d been gleeful about beating the men, breaking fingers and savoring every crack of bone. He’d kept his voice low with the few words he’d spoken, the husky tone low and far too seductive to be engaged in eliminating lives.
His chiseled features had been on full display.
Except when he’d turned to me. His eyes had softened, searching mine as if deeply concerned for my welfare. Like the night at the party. The darkness hadn’t been able to completely hide both his concern and his rage.
I must have been in a state of shock then and even now because instead of being terrified of him or loathing what he’d done, I was grateful. And I’d cheered him on. What kind of woman was lurking inside?
Yet he’d rescued me, a man I’d believed thought me little more than an annoyance. A brilliant businessman by day, a dark angel by night. The complex imagery was sparking an unusual wave of heat between my legs.
I couldn’t breathe, my mind spinning from details. Forget about my heart being in my throat. It was pumping outside my body.
My legs were wobbly, barely carrying me as I raced to get away from the carnage. He’d saved me. He’d come to my rescue. He’d killed goons for me.
Then I’d…
No. I wouldn’t believe I’d done any permanent damage to the other guy. I’d knocked him out. Anyone would do that in my circumstances.
A deep throbbing in my fingers forced me to look down at what I was holding. Fire raced through my veins from the realization I’d grabbed the terrifying looking knife off the floor. I didn’t remember doing so but now, I was glad I had. Even if by doing so I was accepting of what I was capable of.
Panting, I rushed down the corridor, fighting a level of fear that could be crippling. I’d seen an exit sign, now hopeful I could find a different way to get out. What had I just seen? What had happened?
The man had appeared in my room and I hadn’t even known it.
How was that possible? I’d locked the door.
My skin was crawling and my heartrate was through the roof.
I continually glanced over my shoulder, shocked I wasn’t being hunted down like a dog.
The asshole had acted like he’d come for me. That wasn’t possible. I knew no one.
My entire body continued to shake not only from the horrible attack, but because of recognizing the fighter. Stash. There wasn’t a synapse in my brain ready to accept what I’d witnessed.
Stash had appeared completely different, no longer the buttoned-up stuffed shirt I worked with every day. Not only was he sexy as hell with a body like a god, but he was so skilled at fighting I was in awe of him.
I’d caught a few MMA fights before on television, but here I’d looked past the brutality at the artistry. He was one of the most skilled fighters I’d ever seen. Only he used his gift for something much darker than a game for sports betting.
I stopped long enough to stare at another exit sign, gasping for air before making a turn and heading down another hallway. Thankfully, a door was only twenty yards away. Maybe I would be lucky enough to escape.
Tears threatened me but I refused, concentrating on the fear and rage. When mixed with the heavy dose of adrenaline, I was flying close to the edge of my sanity. But I made it to the door without incident, taking the stairs that hopefully led to the street two at a time.
What I’d realized only moments before was that my boss hadn’t recognized me.
I looked entirely different. The makeup.
The hair. My contacts. And the outfit. If there was anything about the night that I could call a blessing, it would be that I’d taken my appearance seriously.
At least in getting away, I could successfully ignore what I’d seen.
Plus, I’d managed to yank the money from the garters, shoving the bills into my purse. Thank God for small favors.
Panting, I was almost to another door when I stopped long enough to see if I could hear any sounds. Traffic. Thank the lord my one tiny prayer had been answered. This was an exit.
Very carefully, I pushed open the heavy door, peering around the edge. Seeing nothing but an alley, I took a deep breath and moved away from the door, taking cautious steps farther away from the building.
Almost instantly, it felt as if I was being watched.
There was a crackle pushing through the raw nerves and strangling fear that threatened to keep me from escaping this horrible place.
Yet there was something about the dense air, even with the stench of garbage and fried food capturing the humidity.
While there was noise coming from every direction, it wasn’t the honking of horns or the music that I’d heard before that bothered me. It was a sense of complete quiet behind me. I straightened my spine, cognizant that someone was right behind me.
My core contracted, an odd burning sensation creating a series of goosebumps. With my body trembling, I slowly turned around.
He wasn’t particularly threatening. In fact, he wasn’t even looking at me.
He was sitting on the hood of his sleek Porsche Turbo 911, the price tag somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
To him, I had a feeling that was pennies.
In his tailored suit, although he’d yet to don a tie, he appeared formidable, but there was no gun present.
However, I knew he carried it in his pocket. That’s where he’d drawn it from before he’d…
Remembering the knife in my hand, I swished my arm in a tight arc as I leaned into a fighter’s stance. Who was I to dare an obvious killer, one that was devilishly handsome even now?
Something deep within my core clenched from need, my nipples aching more than any time inside the office.
Great, Saige. Now you’re pining away for a man who just killed several people.
Apparently, he wasn’t in a hurry, nor was he concerned in the least about the knife in my hand. He merely dropped his gaze to my fingers, taking a deep breath while he did.
“Ya!” I snapped, instantly regretting pretending to be Wonder Woman. He said nothing at first, staring at me with eyes darkened by the ominous shadows creating layers of monsters all around.
“Give me the knife. I don’t want you cutting yourself.”
“Trust me, I know how to cut a man.” I lunged forward another few inches.
He simply cocked his head.
Of course he was right. I had no idea what I thought I was doing. I lowered my arm, the blade slipping from my fingers and clattering on the asphalt.
“You killed four men tonight,” I managed, doing my best to disguise my voice.
Why I’d chosen to accost him about murdering anyone was beyond me.
I’d already figured out I’d been lured to a dark lair of some demented crime lord, so the men killed were clearly monsters.
That should make the horrible deed easier to swallow.
“Technically, I killed three,” he said, his tone as if bored that I was wasting time with such details. He didn’t bother to turn his head in my direction.
“You left one alive. I counted.”
Now he decided to give me the honor of his full attention. Even in his fighter, bad guy mode, he was still arrogant. “No, you killed the other when deciding to save my life. For that, I owe you a debt of gratitude. Saige.”
No. No. No…
“What did you call me?”
“You are Saige Mitchell, a woman I consider both an attribute and a caustic tale in stubbornness. After tonight, I’ll add recklessness to your list of accomplishments. Although I wouldn’t necessarily add tonight’s adventures onto your resume.”
He was completely casual about the moment and the discovery, sitting with his legs crossed at the calves, his hands locked together between his legs. His car was idling in a nasty alley behind a club where dead bodies had been strewn around the basement like toy soldiers. Yet he was perfectly calm.
While I was ready to jump out of my skin.
“I’m not…” I looked away, uncertain what I’d been about to say.
“Do you honestly believe that I can’t recognize you even under all that makeup? I must admit, you did catch me off guard. Then again, I always suspected there was a darkness lurking underneath your very conservative clothes. That was proven the night on the terrace. I’m certain you remember.”
Oh, the bastard could get under my skin.
This was the most words he’d said to me at one time since I’d met him.
“I wasn’t trying to hide myself from you. You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me, which is partially why this leaves me in such a quandary.
While I am filled with questions, they will need to wait.
I assure you that once it’s learned the men sent to accomplish a task won’t be coming home for breakfast, additional soldiers will be sent to finish whatever they hoped to achieve. ”
The possessiveness in his voice should create a desperate need to escape, but instead, a thrill skittered through my veins.
“Are you trying to scare me, Mr. Chertov, because after the night I’ve had, I doubt there’s anything else that could possibly put me on a steeper edge.”
His smile was faint, but I witnessed the corners of his mouth upturning. His armor had cracked, all for me. Maybe I should feel honored that I was the cause. “I’m merely stating facts, Ms. Mitchell, and as such, it’s prudent for me to make a decision on how best to move forward.”
“Such as?”
“Such as deciding that you are coming with me.”