Page 52 of H E R

It’s so silent that I hear her swallow. “Then what’s next?”

“The son of a bitch is throwing a party. Some ball that initiates a sort of camaraderie for those interested in sex slaves. I’m going to get myself invited.”

“Fuck, Justice. You’re fucking crazy.”

I ignore her. We don’t have time for opinions. “It’s being held at The Mansion, Piper. This is our chance. Didn’t you say you had footage—evidence? You can tell me how toget my hands on it, then you can use that as leverage, or blackmail, and finally get this motherfucker.”

“You’re seriously demented,” she pauses, and I hear her breathe out a shaky breath. “But this could work.”

I smile. “I’ll call you once I get that invite and you can draw out a map, or whatever it is you need me to get. We’re going to bury him.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful,loca.”

“Yes, yes, I promise,” I say in Spanish.

And then the call ends. I smile and press the phone to my chest.This has to work.If we manage to uncoverel cerro, then all his stooges follow, no? They’ll all be exposed and I’ll be that much closer to Vork. My smile grows and I know I look like a lunatic, as Piper loves to call me, when I turn around.

But my smile dissipates, sucked right out of my face as if I walked into a black hole. Only it’s Dylan’s eyes glaring at me from a short distance.

16

Redemption

“What are you doing out here?”

Niki goes from staring at me with a hopeful vulnerability, which is truly unlike her, to glaring at me.That’s more like it.

“You know, just because you’re our neighbor doesn’t mean you get to question us every time you see us,” she pauses. “Even if youdidsave me.”

I take a step toward her. “I asked you a question, little fox.”

She snorts. “None of your business,” she enunciates slowly. Like I’m an idiot who’s hard of hearing.

She crosses her hands, forcing her full perky breasts to stand at attention, even under a much too large shirt, and I salivate. She did this the last time she wanted to distract me. I smile; two can play that game. I was awake when I heard rushed whispers and peered out the window to find her outside. I only caught a glimpse of her before she disappeared behind her trailer. Then I saw her shadow dancing against the automatic light that turned on from the trailer on the opposite side. I threw on my sneakers and crept out. By then, she was staring at the bleak night in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that I hoped belonged to her brother and not Noah.

If I ever saw her wearing his clothes again, I’d strip her on the spot.

I, however, only wear my sweatpants, and they sit low on my hips. I walk toward her slowly. Like a predator stalking its kill. Her tits bob up and down quickly and the pulse in her neck sputters rapidly. I leave no space between us, her arms grazing the skin of my abdomen, and I tuck two fingers under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.

“What were you doing out here?” My voice is calm and soft, but commanding, and she gulps nervously.

I know it’s my proximity that unsteadies her. She’s forcing herself to be still, hanging on to the edge of her strength, as if hanging off a cliff. If she dares let go, she fears she will fall to her death. If only I can tell her to look back, a ledge awaits to hold her steady.

But instead, I stay still and hold her eyes. I know she’ll mimic them. And so I look down at her plump mounds and lick my lips. I crave to rub my dick between them, and the bulge in my sweats jerks suddenly.

Just as I presumed, she too looks down and trails her eyes over my chest. As if governed by something beyond her control, she reaches out with an unsteady hand and trails one, and then two, then finally all five fingertips, slowly over the swirls tattooed on my skin.

I hiss through my teeth. Her touch brands my skin in a delicious fire of desire, setting me ablaze with an aching urge to plunge my cock deep inside her, finally sealing the call to unite us. I almost don’t catch the glimmer of a black metal box pressed against the underside of her right breast, peeking just above her forearm.

“Contéstame.”

She looks up, stunned, and I chuckle.

I have no idea where I come from. Since the age of six, I bounced from one foster home to the next. I remember my mother didn’t speak English, but I don’t recall where exactly she came from, much less the scum that left her after finding out I’d been conceived. Spanish is my first language, and I experienced different cultures while in foster care. My adoptive mom is Dominican and made sure I never lost my Spanish. But myroots? Who fucking knows.

Niki’s thick lashes fan down in a seductive sweep, and she clears her throat. Her nail scrapes gently over my skin before she retreats and tucks her hand away, hugging herself.

“I needed some air.”