Page 11 of Jezebel's Liberation

I briefly consider getting an Uber, but I know better than to give anyone else her address. Hell, I shouldn’t even have it. After renting a vehicle, I type her address into the GPS on my burner cell and start driving.

It doesn’t take long to get to her place, and the hair on my neck stands on end when I spot a motorcycle in her driveway. It hadn’t been there the last time I checked my laptop.

Reminding myself that Jez’s brother is the president of a motorcycle club, I park and exit the car. Maybe he’s here to check on her, too.

I head to the front door, and as much as I want to kick it in, I force myself to knock. There’s no answer, and after several more attempts, I stride back to the car and get my lock pick set out of my bag.

Getting into digital spaces that are off-limits is fun, but breaking into a house is an adrenaline rush like no other.

The lock disengages, and I groan at how easy it was. Jez is better than this, smarter than to have such a flimsy lock. I make a mental note to insist she upgrade as I push open the door.

When I step inside, a large figure barrels toward me, and I don’t have time to block the fist coming at my face. My breath is knocked from my lungs when I stumble back and hit the wall.

“Who the fuck are you?” my assailant snarls.

I take a deep breath, then another, and glare at him.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Icould ask you the same thing.”

I glare down at the man on the floor as I pull the gun out of my waistband. Fucker breaks into Jez’s house and has the balls to askmea question.

Pointing the barrel at his head, I bark, “You’ve got five seconds to tell me who the fuck you are and why you broke into my girl’s house.”

My girl?

He narrows his eyes at me. “Jez doesn’t have a boyfriend,” he counters.

So, he knows her well enough to know that.

“Who. Are. You?”

Rather than answer, he pushes to his feet and steps toward me. Ballsy motherfucker.

“Name’s Phantom,” he finally answers. “Your turn.”

My eyes move from his face to the black Henley and dark wash jeans he’s wearing, and my muscles tense at the way my cock stirs behind my fly. For some reason, the name Phantom suits him.

“Demon,” I reply, my jaw ticking.

Why am I not shooting this bastard?

Phantom tilts his head and smirks. “I can see that.”

Is he flirting with me?

“Then you should be able to see that I’ll pull this goddamn trigger and not give your death a second thought,” I seethe, pissed off at my reaction to the man.

He holds his hands up. “I’m a friend. I haven’t been able to get a hold of Jez, so I came to check on her in person.”

“A friend?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Prove it.”

Phantom eyes me suspiciously, almost as if he wants to demand the same from me, which is why I’m shocked when he says, “Her legal name is Mary Hodges, and she has a twin brother, Matthew. Although, I’m guessing you know him as Soul… your president.” He nods to indicate my cut.

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