8. Laura
laura
. . .
C atching a murderer red-handed was not on my bucket list.
Nor was uncovering a juicy secret about an A-list Hollywood star.
And none of it should have led to the electrifying feeling shooting up my spine.
And yet, here we are.
Harley was near the middle of the alleyway. The body she had just pulled a bloodied knife out of was strategically leaning against the side of the garbage can of the Italian restaurant I frequented.
What had been a normal day that was going to end with a meeting with a client had been completely turned on its head.
I prided myself on being able to handle every single situation that was thrown at me, but coming face-to-face with the most annoying actor I’d ever met, more than a couple thousand miles away from where she was supposed to be, not to mention as she was actively killing someone, was not in my arsenal.
Blood was splattered all over that handsome face of hers.
Her expression looked too much like the one on the cover of that magazine.
Enticing, pulling me in before I could even catch on to what was happening.
Her dark, curly hair was pulled back into a high bun, save for a few stray strands that fell into her face.
She wore a simple hoodie and jeans, looking like any other New Yorker at night. But the stain on the front of the gray fabric was hard to miss.
The dim lights hung above the restaurant’s back door created a small glow around her, but instead of looking angelic, she looked downright terrifying. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, making her look more like a demon than the human I assumed her to be.
Run. I should be running.
But I was too shocked to do anything but take a shaky step backward. The entire time, those brown eyes were pulling me further and further into their depths.
Fear clawed at my throat and stopped any words from exiting my mouth.
I’m afraid. How long has it been since I’ve been afraid? How long has it been since someone rendered me speechless?
But fear wasn’t the only thing swirling in my belly. There was something else, something more shameful.
Lust.
A rush of heat ran through me.
“I’ll have you, Laura,” she stated, lifting the knife, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching as the droplets of blood ran down.
She wasn’t going to use it on me. Somehow I knew that deep in my core.
But that didn’t stop the hair from raising on the back of my neck. “I told you, don’t you remember?”
My eyes dropped to the man on the ground. It was hard to make out anything about him from his crumpled form.
“And how are you going to accomplish that? By murdering someone I don’t even know?” I blamed my brashness on the shock.
She let out a laugh.
“You don’t recognize him?” she asked and placed her shoe on his chest to push him to the side.
When his face came into view, I swallowed thickly .
“He’s the prosecutor on that case you’re running with that club owner.
Did you know he was coming here tonight too?
No doubt to get some dirt on you,” she said.
“I know the club owner is a big client, and this one was giving you trouble, so I just took care of it for you. Who I really wanted to take care of was that fucker you keep around as a fuck toy, but he’s too high profile. For now.”
“So this is some sort of… fucked-up gift for me? Like when a cat brings its owner a dead mouse or something?” I asked, not willing to talk about how she knew about Lenard.
“It’s a love letter, darling,” she replied in a whimsical tone as she closed the space between us, pressing me against the wall, her body flush against mine.
She ran the blunt edge of the bloody knife down my cheek, careful not to prick my skin. I could feel the wetness. I could sniff the coppery smell. Maybe I should recoil, but I didn’t.
“My love letter to you,” she whispered in my ear. “And the thing that will tie us together for the rest of our lives.”
Shivers traveled up my spine.
She’s fucking crazy.
I didn’t even know who she really was. The only interaction we’d had had been in her trailer. Everything else had been done through her assistant.
How had she gotten so… obsessed with me?
But the real question was, how the fuck am I going to get out of this?
Her brown eyes were watching me intently, so focused on every single minuscule muscle twitch that I felt fully and completely out of my comfort zone.
I’m not in control here.
I had stood in front of wealthy, powerful people for my entire career. I had watched them scrutinize me, appraise me, try to get to know me.
But Harley’s attention was something else entirely.
It was electric. I shouldn’t want more, but I did .
“I’m guessing the restraining order pissed you off?” I asked, tilting my head away from the knife, grasping for a way out.
Her eyebrows pushed together. “Pissed me off?” she asked. “On the contrary, I’ve never been more intrigued .”
My gaze trailed down the blood splattered on her face and neck.
“I hope you know this will create more trouble for me than anything else.” My eyes shifted back to hers. “If this is really some type of love letter, you should have been more careful.”
Her free hand grabbed my neck. She wasn’t hurting me. Her skin was warm, her touch gentle. But the threat of what she could do to me caused my heart to jump.
“Then tell me, darling,” she whispered. “What else could I have done to have you by my side?”
There was a purr in her tone. A dangerous, exciting sound that I shouldn’t have enjoyed as much as I did.
“This won’t tie us together in any way. This was all you.”
“Yes, it will,” she warned. “Especially since I already called the cops.”
As if on cue, loud sirens broke through the night air.
“And would you look at that,” Harley said and forced my head to look back into the dark alley. “It’s all on camera. So be careful about what you tell the cops when they find you here.”
I could see the small red light flickering in the darkness.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“The footage doesn’t show anything damning,” I forced out. “It was done before I even showed up here. I didn’t touch?—"
“Really?” she asked, her voice dropping. “Or does it show you and your lover colluding to murder him?” As if to emphasize her point, she leaned forward and dragged her lips across my neck.
“You know what those detectives will think,” she whispered in my ear. Her voice was seductive, her tone playful. She knew she had me. “You know how much they hate you. They will look for any way to bring you down.”
Adrenaline pumped through my veins. My mind went into overdrive. I had no friends in the NYPD. Not with a career like mine. They would love this.
Harley was forcing my hand. If she went down, so would I.
So many things pointed at me, but what was going through my mind wasn’t even my own safety. It was Ax’s.
This was my spot. He was a prosecutor on my client’s case. And without me, she would lose.
I couldn’t leave.
I dug into my bag and pulled out a scarf and my keys.
“Meet me at my apartment,” I said. “This is… mutually beneficial. Don’t think you have me in any way, shape, or form.”
She gave me a shit-eating grin as she pulled away.
“Whatever you say, darling.” She grabbed the scarf from me and wiped the blood off my face with it before wrapping it around her neck.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing across my forehead, before turning and disappearing down the alley. Her actions had my face aflame.
I took a deep breath, centering myself.
The things I do for my clients.
Then, I let out a blood-curdling scream.