Chapter 10
KNOX
“Clark, is your intel solid?” I asked over the comms, walking along the brownstones in Brooklyn a little after midnight.
“Yes, sir. We’ve stationed you at the crossroads where we’ve recorded the highest number of kidnappings,” said Clark, who was currently stationed in one of the other zones that we had narrowed down.
I wore a black leather jacket that concealed the guns secured in my holsters.
I lowered my cap and pretended to scroll through my phone while I kept my eyes open, casually strolling in the area.
The streets weren’t too crowded. Only a couple of people had walked past me while the street across from me was dead empty.
It’s not like I anticipated a kidnapping to happen right in front of me, but the NYPD had received over five kidnapping reports from this area in the past six weeks.
Something was clearly happening, and that little voice in the back of my head—the dark beast occupying my mind—compelled me to pick this spot.
To come to this area today. To be on the lookout.
And I always listened to that voice. It had never once led me astray when it came to hunting my prey.
My heart beat at a steady thump in my chest, the anticipation—the hope—of capturing someone strong, of chasing a culprit, subduing them, punishing them, had me praying for an attempted kidnapping.
I kept to the shadows of the trees as I walked along one street after another, pausing in dark alleys to observe the surroundings.
I was hidden in one of those dark alleys when a black motorcycle drove past me with that distinct roar of the engine.
I noticed not only that the motorcycle was familiar, but that the rider was tiny and very, very familiar.
If my little criminal was in the area, something was definitely not right. Was she the one kidnapping the women under the guise of protecting them? Was she here to murder another group of men? Was she alone? Or just a diversion?
A million questions raced through my mind as I sprinted in the direction of the motorcycle. My legs pumped harder as I crossed a street. My lungs burned. My jaw clenched at the thought of losing my little vigilante. The roar was getting farther. With a snarl, I pushed harder.
Then all of a sudden, the roar cut off.
Relief slammed through my body. She’d stopped. It was only a matter of finding her now. She had to be somewhere half a mile down the block toward the east. My body, fueled with adrenaline, pushed harder as I pounded my boots against the sidewalk.
I refused to lose her, or worse, lose to her.
I could feel her eyes taunting me, her forty-seven fucking flip-offs, playing in a constant loop in my mind. Something between a smile and a snarl stretched across my face, the beast inside me salivating like a wild animal.
I turned a corner onto a narrow street and immediately came to a halt at the sight of the black motorcycle parked right behind a car halfway down the block. Bingo.
She must be somewhere around here. I hid in the shadows and silently treaded along the street, my mind alert and my gaze scanning the surroundings, searching for a hint of movement from my little panther.
I had to find her before she found me. It was anyone’s game here.
And wasn’t that simply exhilarating?
Because I was so attuned to every little movement, so keen to find my little criminal, a shift in the shadow near the staircase of a brownstone caught my eye.
A blur of a black ponytail with golden-brown highlights, a short woman in a black sweatshirt and loose sweatpants was prowling along the rows of brownstones.
My prey was on a hunt of her own.
What was she after? Who was her target?
Just like I’d done a while ago, she walked along the streets, her shoulders rising up to her ears every now and again.
Did she feel my eyes on her? Were her senses alerting her to the danger following her?
Was she feeling like prey on the dark, silent street?
If she did, it didn’t deter her. Her head scanned around the dark street, her steps halting at every hint of a sound. Her body, poised to be a weapon.
The beast inside me savored her lithe movements, her predatory instincts calling to his own.
All of a sudden, she whirled around, her eyes narrowly missing me, only because I hid behind a massive tree trunk just at the right time. My little criminal had the senses of a panther. Quiet. Sharp. Deadly.
I continued to follow her from a distance for a few more minutes, when all of a sudden, she broke into a sprint. Was she running from me, or was she chasing someone?
My blood erupted into flames as a shot of adrenaline hit my veins. My vision narrowed to one goal. My beast chanted one tune in my mind.
Hunt. Hunt. Hunt.
A smile stretched across my face as my feet slammed against the concrete pavement, the chase sending blazing-hot pleasure down my spine.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Not in exhaustion, but in pure exhilaration.
My cock was rock fucking hard. I didn’t even know what made it harder.
The thought of capturing my little criminal, or the thought of fucking her into oblivion.
She turned into the alley on her left, disappearing from my field of vision. Black tendrils of anger swirled in my gaze as I raced faster. The moment I reached the mouth of the alley, my feet came to a screeching halt.
Right in front of me, my little criminal, with her back facing me, mid-hunt, slammed a guy on the hard, dirty ground. My cock jerked in my pants, dark arousal pumping through my veins.
A wounded snarl escaped his lips, but she silenced it with a forceful stomp of her boot right on his face. Not once. Not twice. She stomped over his face until he passed out in his own blood.
A feral smile escaped my lips, the blood in my veins sang a violent, bloody tune, and the devil in my soul clapped at the absolute cinema that was my little criminal.
Too bad I had to capture her and make her rot in prison. I might visit her though. No matter how tempting it was to keep playing with her, I was a cop, and she was a lawless criminal. I was made to put her behind bars.
A small whimper snapped me out of my thoughts, my gaze falling to the small woman leaning against the wall of the brownstone and cowering in fear.
My little criminal—the world’s most benevolent little vigilante—immediately let go of her prey and took a step toward the weak, little woman.
And that was my fucking opening.
“Freeze. Hands up in the air, where I can see them.” I cocked the gun, the distinct click of pulling back the hammer freezing the two ladies on the spot. Or maybe it was the dangerous growl in my voice.
The woman leaning against the wall had her hands up in an instant.
But like I anticipated, not my vigilante. She stood over the body of the bloodied, unconscious man, frozen and rooted to the spot. I could see her chest heaving, her fingers clenched into tight fists.
I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her frustration—her wrath—at being caught. Again.
With my gun pointed right at her back, I stepped closer to where she stood. “Put your fucking hands up. I won’t repeat myself.”
Her fists unclenched as her hands slowly rose up her shoulders. “Happy?” she spat out.
I bit my lip to stop the chuckle threatening to escape my chest. “Now, turn around.”
She huffed, as if I were merely an inconvenience. The sexy fucking bitch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
She grumbled under her breath but turned around. Her face was once again covered by a half-mask that hid the right side. But whatever she was showing, once again, made my heart stutter.
How can someone so deadly be so beautiful?
Or maybe that was just me and my fucked-up mind, finding beauty in the darkness, glorifying the blood and violence I secretly craved.
Her lips pursed as she met my eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”
The balls on her. I scoffed and stepped closer until we stood about five feet apart, my gun raised to her head.
If I took a shot right this second, her brain would be splattered across the dirty alley.
But there wasn’t an ounce of fear in this woman’s eyes.
“Killing off men in the middle of the night once again?”
She rolled her eyes—rolled her fucking eyes—at me. “Knocking out a kidnapper and protecting an innocent woman in the middle of the night. You’re welcome.”
My eyes blazed. “Watch your fucking tone.”
Her gaze was a rolling storm of thunder, crackling and sparking with violent fury. “Or fucking what?”
I smirked. “You don’t want to know.” What I didn’t tell her was that I didn’t even know myself.
The strictly moral cop part of me was pushing every cell of my body to grab the handcuffs from my pocket and arrest her, along with the knocked-out kidnapper.
But the dark, bloodthirsty, violent part of me, who was having the time of his life playing with this little vigilante, was pulling me back with all his might, desperate for more of the chase, hungry for more glimpses into this little ball of violence and vengeance. And it was winning.
She looked at me and then at the whimpering woman on the side, and her gaze softened. “Don’t worry, girlie. You’re going to be safe. I’m here.” She then pinned me with her anger. “You can go now. The innocent civilian is safe.”
I tsked, taking three steps closer, touching the muzzle of my gun to her forehead. “Not without my prize, little criminal.”
She growled. “Open your eyes. The criminal is at your feet. And he’s fucking mine. I caught him.”
She was right. The prey was hers. But she was mine. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”
“Why do you even want him?”
Keeping the muzzle on her forehead, I turned my head to the side and looked at the unconscious Caucasian man with a Russian tattoo on his forearm and met her gaze. I raised my eyebrows in question, silently asking her if she considered me stupid.
She cocked her head, and the little smirk on her lips was answer enough.
I shrugged my shoulder. “You have two options. One, you leave the man here and take the girl with you. Make sure she reaches home safely. Two, you take the man and leave the scared girl to her own devices, at the risk of another kidnapping. Who knows if this guy has friends? You take the risk and the responsibility.”
Her lips pursed as if she’d tasted something sour. And she fucking had. I loved it. She bit her lip and ground out from between a clenched jaw, “What if, as a respectable cop, you help the innocent victim and get her home safe? Isn’t that what you stand for?”
I stared into her eyes and slowly smiled, dropping the curtain of the “respectable cop” as she put it, only to reveal the snarling, snapping, vicious darkness that embraced the pain of others, that reveled in the violence, and that was as selfish and possessive as a monster.
Her body froze, and my smile widened. I stepped closer until I towered over her small frame. I leaned down so our gazes clashed, sliding the muzzle of the gun down her cheek. “Now, where’s the fun in that, little criminal?”
“You’re a psycho,” she whispered, her words washing over my lips. Keeping my gaze trained on hers, I licked them, consuming the phantom of the air she breathed.
“I thought I was being generous. If you don’t like these two options, I have a third option for you.”
“What’s that?” she ground out.
“I’m glad you asked. Now, mind you, this option works only in my favor.
I arrest the kidnapper, blow your little brains out, go back to the precinct, and claim the glory of making our streets safer from a serial kidnapper and a serial killer hunting down the men of the city.
” I pushed the muzzle under her chin at my last word. “What do you think?”
She stayed silent, her eyes glaring daggers at me. That only caused the beast inside me to revel in the heat of her gaze. The need to push her to her knees in this dirty alley and fuck her brains out burned through my veins like a wildfire. My cock hardened to the point of delicious pain.
My little prey was captured in the net, fumbling for a way to escape.
Every fiber of my being was attuned to every breath of the woman in front of me.
The pleasure coursing through my body was so fucking sharp, it threatened to burst out of my skin.
I pushed the muzzle harder against her skin, making her clench her jaw.
“If you don’t choose in five seconds, I’ll decide for you. FYI, I’ll choose option three.”
Her gaze turned to the woman who was silently crying against the wall, and my little panther literally stomped her foot in defeat. I cackled internally.
She scowled like a brat. “Option one.”
I stepped back. “Good choice. Off you both go, then.”
She didn’t wait another second. She whirled around, grabbed the crying girl’s hand, and ran toward the opening of the alley.
Before completely disappearing from my view, my little criminal turned around, only to find me already looking at her.
She kept her eyes trained on me and once again flipped me off.
This time, I flipped her back with a smile and mouthed, “I won.”
She flipped her ponytail and disappeared out of my sight, gifting me the head of one of the Russian mob kidnappers on a silver platter.
Thank you, little criminal. Hope to see you again.