Chapter Eight
Hades stood at a large open crate inspecting the product that had just come in. His men were unloading the paintings while others were slicing the backs off. Red bricks were neatly stacked as others were taking inventory.
“Make sure runners are hitting the outlier aeras, like Eagle Rock,” he instructed Acheron.
His phone rang and when he glanced down, he saw the name of his contact on the Force. He held up a finger to his lieutenant and connected the call.
“Yes?”
“You have a problem.” The voice was low, barely above a whisper. “A female body was discovered behind your club Nightshade.”
Hades stilled. Twice was not a coincidence. “Can you cover it up?”
“Yeah, but get here quick.”
He hung up and glanced at Acheron. “Finish this.”
“What’s going on?”
“Another dead woman.”
Hades marched away, pissed someone was messing with him. It threw the first death into a different light. Was someone messing with him? Recreating what happened in the garage, hoping to take him down? Was it Steven Harold trying to bring the law down upon him?
When he arrived, he marched through the quiet club to the loading dock out back. His contact, Detective O’Connell, waited for him, smoking a cigarette.
“This was an anonymous tip that came through. I took it when I heard the club name.”
Hades stared at the dead woman. A red head this time instead of a blonde, but her neck was broken and the position of her limbs didn’t seem natural.
“If I’d hazard a guess, it seems like this is a message.”
“I agree,” Hades said.
“I imagine you might have some enemies.”
“I’m not going to refute that.” He pulled out his phone and punched in the Detective’s payment. “Thank you for thinking of me first.”
When the notification came through, Detective O’Connell glanced at it and smiled. “Pleasure, Mr. Sinclair.”
Then he left, leaving Hades with a dead woman. He didn’t like this, not one little bit. The woman looked too much like Cora Charles. He placed a call to his cleaners.
****
“Hey, you wanna go to Nightshade tonight?” Betsy asked as they clocked out.
The week had passed in a blur. Keeping her head down, she had made sure to avoid any place where Ranelle would be.
On top of that, she tried to forget about her night with Hades Sinclair, yet was unable to stop dreaming of him.
By the time Friday rolled around, she was bone tired from the mental stress.
At first, she was going to say no, but something stopped her.
Once again, the memory of last weekend, how Hades had made her body sing, was still fresh in her mind.
She knew it was a one-time thing and she’d never see him again, but she didn’t want to stay holed up in her bedroom feeling sorry for herself.
They said to get over a man, you had to get under a new one.
She didn’t want to be alone.
“Yeah, actually. I need a break from all this,” Cora said as she gestured around with a wave of her hand. She didn’t need to spell it out to her friend.
“Maybe you’ll find your Mr. Right,” Betsy said encouragingly.
“Or Mr. Right Now.”
Betsy laughed, and Cora tried, but all she could manage was a smile.
“Thanks for being with me.”
Betsy nudged her with her shoulder. “Best friend pact, you know that. Wanna come home with me and get ready? I’ll let you borrow a dress.”
“Yeah, that’ll be great.”
They punched out and she followed Betsy into the parking structure, trying to ignore the memory of what she’d seen the last time she was in one.
Betsy drove a twenty-year-old white Honda she called Snowflake.
It had a gazillion miles on it, but the damn thing purred like a kitten.
Cora slid into the passenger seat and they headed to Westminster.
In Betsy’s apartment, they got ready and Cora wore a black dress that was simple and nice. The hem was long enough so she wouldn’t get a complex that she might be showing off her panties.
Nightshade was a large two-story building located in Hollywood. With multiple bars and multiple floors, it was a popular place for people to forget life for a while. She and Betsy paid the bouncer the cover charge and ran up the staircase as the heavy beat of dance music made her body vibrate.
They wasted no time in losing themselves, dancing together and separately, sometimes falling in with others but always reconnecting. Soon, Cora was out of breath and thirsty, so she mimed drinking and Betsy did the thumbs up sign.
Cora walked up to the bar and asked for bottled water. After she slid over some money, she opened it and took a deep drink. Someone sidled up to her and she turned to see a good-looking man staring at her. He smiled and she smiled back, wondering if he’d be the answer to forgetting Hades Sinclair.
“I’m Brandon,” he said, introducing himself.
“Cora.”
He held out his hand and she shook it.
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Does that pick-up line usually work?”
He laughed. “Sometimes.”
“Let me tell you, all you have to do is just smile and let your dimples out. Women will fall all over you.”
“How about you? Will you fall all over me?”
“See,” she teased. “Works every time.”
Again, he laughed. A couple came up to the bar and jostled them, causing Brendon to bump into her. She got knocked off her center of gravity, and he instinctively slid an arm around her to keep from falling.
“Than—”
“Cora,” a deep voice said as a hand suddenly took hold of her upper arm and pulled her away from Brandon.
Blinking in surprise, she looked up at Hades. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same.” He gave a dark, pointed look to Brandon, who took his drink and melted into the crowd.
“Hey,” she objected. “I was talking with him.”
Hades held onto her as he walked from the overheated bar into a private staircase.
He didn’t say anything, only dragged her along behind him.
They reached a door that had a keypad and he opened it with a code, tugging her inside.
When it clicked shut, he gently pushed her against it, then brought his body flush against her.
The position had her heart racing, and she definitely felt his hard cock straining against his pants.
“Now tell me what you’re doing here.”
“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m dancing.” Trying hard not to think about you. “Are you following me?”
“No,” he said dryly. “I should be asking you that. I own this club.”
“Oh,” she said as she stared up at him. Little jolts of pleasure raced up her arm from his touch. “Well, I didn’t know that. It’s a nice club.”
“What did you think you were going to do with that man who was trying to pick you up?”
“I was hoping he would pick me up.”
He scowled. “Why? Men like that only use women.”
“Pot. Kettle.”
“I didn’t use you. I told you exactly what was going to happen.”
“How do you know Brendon wasn’t going to do the same?”
Hades cupped the back of her neck. “Don’t ever say his name again. If you need an itch scratched then it’ll be me scratching it.”
She searched his face. “What do you mean?”
A slow smile stretched across his lips. “You heard me.”
Her breath hitched. “What happened to one night only? You were very clear last weekend.”
“Forget what I said last weekend. I haven’t fucked you out of my system yet.”
“Wow, that is a horrible pick-up line.”
His gaze roamed over her face, lingering on her lips. “I’ve thought about you all week.”
“Yeah, I can tell you’ve been aching for me by all the phone calls I haven’t received.”
He bent his head and captured her lips. The kiss was hard. Deep. A statement. It also felt like a claiming.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “You have such kissable ... fuckable ... lips.”
His words slid over her skin like warm silk.
“I want you, Cora,” he whispered.
He bent his head once more, giving her time to change her mind if she wanted to.
Only she didn’t. She’d been dreaming of kissing him every night so there was zero chance she was going to say no.
His lips were soft, settling on hers with a featherlike caress.
Cora grasped his shoulders in an effort to ground herself, because he felt so damn good.
His body pressed against hers, using the wall to secure her.
In a heartbeat, the kiss went from almost innocent to soul touching.
It was something else. Something ... more.
He drew her tongue into his mouth, taking possession with a mixture of tender and fierce desire.
Hades threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back as he devoured her mouth.
Licking, biting, melding them together until she had no idea where he ended and she began.
When they broke for air, he pulled back slowly, staring down at her with an unfathomable gaze.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered. His fingers traced over her lips, across her jaw. “What have you done to me, Cora Charles?”