Page 42 of Shadow Man

The room smells of stale cigarette smoke and the faintest traces of orange blossom and vanilla.

Her.

My dick’s pulsing against the inside zipper of my jeans. The shower is still going strong, but any second now the water will shut off, a towel will slake the droplets from a body I’ve been lusting after for too long, and then she’ll be mine.

Finally.

I chuck my gun on the frayed brown quilt next to me, shrug my jacket off and lie back, my elbows taking all the weight. The seconds tick. Our roads meet. My anticipation is scratching up the back of my throat and making my jaw ache. My dead brother’s face flashes before my eyes, and I see his sun. I see his light.He never burned as brightly as she does, though.

I take a deep breath and I hear the roar of a Black Hawk in the whirring fan above my head. I take another, and I let the past lie still for once.

And then… Then I wait for my future to open the bathroom door.

18

Anna

The water burns like hell, but I find myself turning the faucet for even more heat. It’s like I’m trying to scour my sins away, and I continue like this until I’m gasping and spluttering beneath the liquid fire. I’m imagining those sins as a black liquid spiraling down the plughole instead of the pale pink streams gathering around my toes.

My arm won't stop bleeding. It's deep and sore. I need a couple of stitches, but Vi’s aunt’s place is still a three-hour drive away. We only stopped here to take in a couple of deep breaths and grab some food. She’s already assured me that her aunt has some medical training and is used to patching up her scrapes.

I’m trying not to read into that too much. I’ve boxed it up, along with the dangerous gleam in her eye earlier and the offer to kill Joseph. This night is a sheet wrapped tight around us. The more bad stuff we do, the more our pasts are ripping at the material and unveiling all our dirty little secrets to one another.

The yellow motel towel stinks of mildew. The brushed cotton is threadbare and worn. I use it sparingly, before dressing in my T-shirt and panties, and rubbing the worst of the wetness out of my hair with my good arm. Once done, I throw the disgusting towel back on the rack, wrap another around my wound, and open the door.

The pitch-black bedroom jumps out at me like a bad surprise.

“Vi?” I call out hesitantly. There’s no power outage because the bathroom lights are still working. “Hey, are you asleep—?”

I take a single step into the darkness, and that’s when the scent of musk and leather hits me.

No!

I spin back to the bathroom, but he grabs my good arm and throws me up against a nearby wall as his Colombian nickname rings out like an alarm bell in my head.

My killer.

My savior.

My shadow.

“How did you find me?” I gasp out, cringing against the crumbling plasterboard. My eyes won’t adjust to the dark quickly enough. I’m back in the alleyway again, sensing the outline of his anger before I see his face.

“You might be a rookie to this game,Luna,” he says, twisting his endearment from sweet to sour. “But some of us have been living this shit for a while.”

He lets go of me, caging me in with his words and his huge physique instead. Blue jeans. Black jacket. White T-shirt covered in red… With a start I realize he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

“Joseph—”

“Don’t.” I catch the movement of him shaking his head in the glow from the bathroom light. “I’ve traveled too long and too far to fall for your stupid tricks again. Did you think I wouldn't find you,Luna? Who the fuck do you think I am?”

He’s mad. Really mad.What the hell did I expect?

“Where’s Vi?” I croak.

“Your partner in crime?” His Texan drawl is in full, disdainful flow. “She’s safe.”

“Tell me where she is!” I try to spring away from the wall and go careering into a hard barrier of muscle instead. My whole body ignites from the connection. The damp spark that I’d thought was gone forever catches like wildfire, stealing all the thoughts from my head.

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