Page 36 of Captive Audience
“Oh, I definitely am, pet. The vermin I eliminate are of the larger, two-legged variety.”
There it was. No shame. No remorse. How many people had Rook sent to the afterlife?
“Breathe, love,” he said. “You’re no good to me if you stop. Would it make you feel any better if I told you they deserved their fate?”
“Not really.”
And what the hell diddeserve their fatemean? Maybe Rook figured someone earned a bullet to the head for blasting their horn at him in traffic or cutting in line for coffee. Who knew what fragile excuses he used to justify murder?
Rook was Irish, rich, and powerful. Throw murder into the mix, and it wasn’t all that hard to piece the puzzle together. Because there was only one group in Philly who boasted all of those traits—the Beasts of Belfast.
Ice slid down my spine. The Beasts controlled the Philly underworld. Their power was limitless. Their level of corruption, sickening.
“You’re Irish Mafia.” And not a small player, either. The level of luxury surrounding me meant Rook must be one of their upper ranks.
“Aye.”
I felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner, but organized crime had never been in my wheelhouse. Murder between gangs felt like a twist on Darwin’s theory, dirtbags culling each other from society. I’d never waste my time solving those cases, not when there were innocent people who could use my skills.
“And you’ve been stalking me.” He’d told me as much last night, and I’d laughed, thinking he was joking.
“It was necessary.”
“Because you need me to help you?”
“Right again.”
The paralyzing stranglehold of fear subsided when something hotter surged up to swallow it.
Rage.
The man before me wasn’t the same one I’d been with last night. When we’d been naked in his bed, he’d touched me like I was something precious. Like he cared about me.
But it was all a lie. He’d set a trap, and I’d walked straight into it.
I glared at Rook, fury boiling inside me. “You manipulated me into sleeping with you.”
“Did I? If that’s the case, it didn’t take much, did it, pet? And I don’t recall approaching you at the bar and asking for sex.”Despite my efforts to pull away, Rook leaned in close, his warm lips and short-trimmed beard brushing the shell of my ear. It sent a shiver through me, and not from fear. The memory of Rook’s kisses along my neck last night was all too fresh. “Protest all you want, but we both know you enjoyed every minute of it.”
This smug motherfucker. I was going to kill him.
“Let me go.” I fought against his hold, but it was no use. He was too strong.
“Only if you agree to listen to what I have to say.”
“Fine.” I stopped resisting. “I’ll listen.”
Rook released me, and I staggered back.
Time to book it out of here.
I wasn’t sure where the emergency stairwell was. I’d probably trip and break a bone or ten on my way down, anyway. There was always the fast way out of here—over the terrace railing to plummet to my doom. I wasn’tthatdesperate. Not yet.
That left the elevator. If I could reach it before Rook, there was a chance I could escape. A slim chance, but it was all I had.
Keeping my eyes fixed on Rook, I slowly backed away, heart hammering.
He held one cautioning finger up. “Don’t do it.”
