Page 36 of Hard Game

The door opens, and I dart in, breathing in the scent of fresh paint and new carpets. Elijah had lived here for a year, but the standards were stupidly high. The walls were painted, and carpets were replaced every six months, which blew my mind. My landlord didn’t do anything other than take my damn money. But I like my apartment. Well, I did…until tonight.

The elevator takes forever to reach Elijah’s floor, and when it does, he’s waiting for me, shirtless and in jogging bottoms. His hair is a mess, but his eyes are wild.

“Fucking hell, Diess,” he mutters as I stride past him into his apartment, heading for the whiskey he keeps in his kitchen cupboard. “Yeah, come in, help yourself.”

I pour three fingers and knock it back, wincing as it burns my acidic-coated throat. “Urgh.”

“Lauren.” Elijah slides onto a bar stool opposite and scrubs his stubble.“Talk.”

I hold a finger and pour another drink before slamming the glass down. I press my palm flat against the counter and bow my head, waiting for the nausea in my stomach to quit rolling around like a tsunami. “Taron is dead.”

Elijah laughs.

“Taron is dead,” I say again, lifting my head to meet his playful gaze. “I’m serious.”

The light fades from Elijah’s eyes as he absorbs my words, but he’s not prepared for what I say next.

I tell him how Taron tried to blackmail me, to which he shoves the stool from beneath him, jumping to his feet.

“Motherfucker!”

“So someone came in and killed him,” I say, tapping my fingers against the counter to steady my frayed nerves. “Not just someone!” I sing, waving my hands in the air. Suddenly, I can’t keep still.

“Whoa, Lauren…” Elijah gazes at me as I continue.

“Maddox fucking Moreno, Elijah.”

He looks confused but then blinks. “The guy you have the hots for?”

I send him a seething glare, and he apologizes. “Sorry. Moreno killed Taron?”

I nod.

“Why?”

I pause and consider his question. Why did Maddox shoot Taron? Because he’s a corrupt detective? No, Maddox knew what Taron was before he came to my aid. Wait,…came to my aid. I frown, and Elijah crosses his arms, waiting for me to enlighten him.

“I think…” I swallow, double-checking and then triple-checking that I’m right before I say it. “It was because Taron called me a slut.”

Elijah laughs abruptly. “You’re kidding me, right?”

My cheeks flush. “No.” Suddenly, I feel foolish.

Why didn’t I see it before?

Maddox defended me. It’s so ludicrous I laugh out loud—he killed my ex because he called me a slut. If Maddox knew some of the things the general public called me, I’m sure there’d be mass shootings. Despite everything, the thought of him killing someone for me sends a shiver down my spine. I already suspected Maddox was dangerous, but now he’s cemented that in my brain.

But he’s a fucking trafficker. The lowest of the low.

Pain slices in my chest at the thought of him being one of them, but then I remind myself I don’t know him. Not at all. His real name isn’t even Maddox. I allow myself to wonder what it is, but I shut it down when I start thinking of husband names like Harry and Blake.

This is absurd.

“I mean, I hate Taron’s guts,” Elijah admits, shaking his head. “But to kill him? Whoa, Lauren. Where did this happen?”

I wince and say, “My apartment.”

“Your apartment?” Elijah explodes, holding his head with his hands as he paces in circles. “Shit! So Taron is just lying in a pool of blood in your apartment, and you’re here? Making me an accessory to fucking murder, may I add?”

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