Page 5 of Lamb

Getting the fuck out of this prettypinkprison.

5

ADRIAN

The first time I heard her voice, the sound was breathier than I expected. Deeper too. Marisela was not delicate and soft-spoken, like the floral wallpaper and all the lace-trimmed pillows inside her bedroom would lead you to believe.

Though that could have something to do with the fact she was currently dangling from her windowsill, her palms bearing the brunt of her weight as she attempted to push off the side of the house before landing on a bed of flowers with a few choice adjectives tossed out into the night sky. It was hard to appear demure with a mouth like that—the dirt covering her ass and the leaves clinging to her hair didn’t help either.

But I didn’t like my women demure. Where was the fun in that? Who wants to play with a toy that’s already been broken?

I tucked myself closer to the side of the house, the stoneexterior cold against my heated skin, my eyes glued to my target as she brushed off her pants and glanced around. Likely looking for the guards that were supposed to be walking the property line in thirty-minute intervals. Her old man was a paranoid fuck, which meant he probably had a reason to be.

She wouldn’t find them. Her father’s men.

They’d been… incapacitated for the time being. A hefty dose of ketamine worked wonders in a pinch. It was one of the reasons understanding chemistry and the way the body reacted to different components was so important. Too much of this additive or too little of this solvent could mean the difference between knocking someone out and killing them. Both had their uses, depending on the circumstance. And right now, two dead bodyguards were more of a headache than their organs were worth. Which meant they’d wake up feeling like they were tossed into a gutter and stomped on. But at least they’d wake up.

Realizing she wasn’t about to be dragged back into Daddy’s office and thrown over his knee—though mine wasn’t out of the question just yet—Marisela crept towards the stone wall surrounding her family estate, grabbing the ledge and scaling over the top much quicker than I had cleared it a few minutes ago myself. Except I was trying to get in and this little wandering lamb was itching to get out.

I counted to ten in my head before following her, being sure to keep a few paces between us. It was easier said than done when every neuron in my brain was firing off and screaming at me to reach out and touch her.

When she turned the corner, slipping behind some abandoned warehouse, I quickened my steps, rushing to catch up with her only to stop short when I found myself staring at a brick wall in an empty alleyway.

I glanced from side to side.Where the fuck had she gone?

There was no other way in or out. And this wall was much too high for a girl her size to scale without a leg up.

“Who we looking for?” a soft voice whispered next to my ear as I pivoted in place to find a pair of wide green eyes staring back at me.

6

MARISELA

He really did try. I’d give him that. His steps nearly soundless as he did his best to maintain a conservative distance between us. Even went as far as to control his breathing so I couldn’t hear him huffing when he rushed around the corner to follow me.

Unfortunately for my shadow man, it was his scent that carried in the breeze and gave him away. Cool and minty. Maybe his aftershave? With a hint of smoke and leather that could be attributed to the stupid mask he was hiding behind.

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. How anyone thought they could blend in dressed like something out of one of those black-and-white horror movies myabueloliked to watch was beyond me.

Then again, I wasn’t interested in what he was wearing or why. Not when I was more focused on the fact this fucker was stalking me.

I was able to get the slip on Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Creepy with a move as generic as dunking under the dumpster and popping up on the other side. I inched closer on the tips of my shoes, mindful not to kick at the stray gravel rocks separating us. Dropped my lips to where I thought his ear should be and whispered, “Who we looking for?”

I stepped back just in time to see the way my voice sent a chill down his spine and had him quaking in his—I flicked my eyes to his feet—nine-hundred-dollar Oxfords. Imported leather. Italian, judging by the distinct sheen. My stalker had expensive tastes. Lucky me.

“A little lamb that seems to have strayed from its flock.” I couldn’t see him grin but I could hear it. Almost like the slight curve of his lips somehow softened his tone.

“This lamb of yours, you sure it isn’t just a wolf in sheep’s clothing?” I lifted a challenging brow, waiting for my retort to stick the landing while my fingers danced towards the pocket knife I’d tucked into the back of my pants, my glare plummeting when my hand came up empty.

“Looking for this?”

I peered up to find him pinching the familiar bright-red hilt between his thumb and index finger. And swiped out a hand to grab it at the same time he lifted his arm, dangling the knife just out of my reach.

“Ut-uh, finders keepers, princess,” he hummed before slipping the little blade—my blade—into his coat pocket.

It took me a minute too long to realize he was talking about more than my knife, though, as he lunged forwardand quickly pressed me up against the bite of the cold brick wall.

What was that saying? Something like if you went looking for trouble, eventually it’d find you…

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