Page 39 of Love Me Darkly
“Oh, I’m sorry, I—” Her words choked off on a strangled sound, and she stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Mateo.”
Without a word, he propelled her down the dark corridor. Her heels clicked and scraped the floor as she struggled to match his long strides, but she didn’t fight him as he opened a door and deposited her inside. Darkness enveloped them, and Mateo could hear her every breath, harsh and unsteady. He heard her moving away from him in the dark, and then a dull yellow bulb flared to life over their heads, enveloping them in a circle of light.
They were in some kind of storage room, boxes and crates lined up against one wall, while shelves held stacks of towels and cleaning supplies. A mop and bucket were shoved in a corner along with multiple brooms and a vacuum. Melody’s distinct scent did battle with the smells of antiseptic and bleach.
She pressed herself against the line of crates and watched him as if he were a snake ready to strike at any moment. He remained near the door, not certain he trusted himself to get much closer. She was already pushing all of his buttons, standing there in that goddamn dress, her braids pulled into a high ponytail that flaunted her sloping jaw and cheekbones. Her lips were tinted a glossy, beckoning, dark red. The same color as the blood she’d drawn from him with her teeth. Primal heat flooded him at the reminder.
“You have to stop coming here,” she said when he went on staring at her without speaking. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Mateo narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m warning you. Though I don’t know why I bother. It’s not like you listened the last time I told you to back off.”
“I’ve been told I’m stubborn.”
Melody scoffed. “More like obsessive.”
Yes, he was obsessive. He was obsessed with her for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand.
“If you had seen the things I have seen, you would be obsessive too. Suede, Wilson, and Morrison … the things men like them do … the way they hurt people?—”
She advanced on him, mouth pinched and nostrils flaring. “You think I don’t know about the pain men like that cause? That I’m unaware of the trail of victims in their wake?”
Mateo clenched his hands into fists and held his ground. She was far too close, but there was nowhere for him to go with the door at his back.
“Then why cover for them?”
“Haven’t you been paying attention? I don’t have a choice. If any of them assumed I was even thinking about opening my mouth, I’d be dead.”
Mateo studied her closely, digesting those words. Suede had said as much to him earlier. “Suede, Morrison, and Wilson are done.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“You ought to be safe then. Unless there’s someone else you’re afraid of. Roman Korenic, maybe?”
The panic in her eyes at the sound of that name was unmistakable. The whiskey brown of her irises darkened and her pupils dilated. She blinked and shook her head slowly, a subtle warning.
“You don’t want to fuck with him, or the guys he runs with. These aren’t your bargain basement criminals we’re talking about.”
“So I’ve been told. And you should know, Suede insisted he’d turn up dead if he talked … but he told us everything once we offered him a deal and protection. I could do the same for you if you tell me how you’re involved.”
“There are no deals for women like me.”
He cocked his head, edging closer. They stood toe-to-toe, Melody craning her neck to stare up at him.
“And what kind of woman are you?” he asked, raising his hand and letting it fall against her shoulder. His trailed his knuckles down her arm, drawing goosebumps in their wake. He watched them rise against her skin, fascinated. She was so reactive, even while keeping her mask firmly in place. She practically vibrated at his fingertips. It made him want to toy with her, pull her apart and discover what made her tick, what made that flash of defiance and desire spark in her eyes.
“The kind that this world chews up and spits out. The kind no one gives a shit about.”
“I give a shit.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I doubt anyone really knows you, Miss Johnson.”
She tried to rear away from him, but Mateo closed his hand around her wrist and reeled her back in. Melody gasped when their bodies collided, her arm trapped between them.
Her voice emerged in a low, rasping whisper. He strained to hear her over the pounding of the music vibrating the walls. “What do you want from me?”
