Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 151469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I need to feel the beats.
“Where the fuck is she?” I mutter as I rest my elbows on the edge of the glass and stare at one of the flickering flames, mesmerized by the tiny blaze. My hand extends of its own volition, and I hover above the small fire, feeling the instant, intense heat.
I stare.
I feel.
Ding!
I snatch my hand away and look up at my office door, hearing the familiar sound of heels clinking the floor. I blow out the candles and make my way to the stairs, coming to a stop at the top. I see Beth down below, helping herself to some water.
I observe her, wondering what makes her tick. I know why I do what I do. I do it because I’m invisible in every aspect of my life. And this? I’m seen.
“I’ll be in the shower,” I say, and she looks up. “Join me in ten minutes.” I leave to go wash off my kill and get ready for more relief.
But first . . .
I go back to my office and collect a phone from the drawer, dialing FBI Agent Jaz Hayley as I perch on the edge of my desk. She answers quickly. Always does. “You’ll find one in the river,” I say coolly. “I believe they call him The Snake.”
“For fuck’s sake,” she breathes. “You need to stop.”
“Never.”
“Then I’ll stop you.”
“Don’t make me kill you, Jaz,” I warn. “I’m beginning to like you.” I switch on the bank of TVs on the wall and scroll through the faces of dozens of men. I imagine Jaz Hayley has a similar list, except hers will have a special place on it for me. Probably at the top. Such a shame she doesn’t know my name. What I look like.
Who I am.
“Fuck you,” she hisses.
I smile. “What are your plans for tonight?”
A light laugh indicates how exasperating she finds me. Frustrating. “Decorating my new place with my daughter. Picking out bridesmaids’ dresses for her wedding. But you already know that, don’t you?”
“She’s getting married,” I muse, as if I didn’t actually know that. “You’ll want to be around to see that.”
“Don’t threaten me,” she warns, and my small smile widens. “James,” she adds casually.
My amusement vanishes in a heartbeat at the mention of my name. Or, at least, one of them. What the fuck? And how the fuck? I know this woman is a talented FBI agent. She aced her tests and powered up the ranks. But she’s not a fucking clairvoyant.
“James Kelly.” She adds my surname for extra punch, to ensure I know she’s not fucking about.
“I prefer The Enigma,” I say quietly.
“Or Kellen James?”
I can’t conceal my inhale. And I can’t ask how she knows. I refuse to give her that much satisfaction when she details the journey to her discovery. But, fuck, how the fuck does she know?
“Won’t your ego allow you to ask?” she says, knowing what I’m thinking. She always does. It’s that sixth fucking sense. Jaz Hayley moving into Miami from New York City has been more than a pain in my arse. “Let me walk you through it,” she goes on. “So I got to thinking, who could want to get to The Bear so desperately? Who could want to fuck with him, kill his men? Kill him? A fellow trafficker? No. This just feels a little more like revenge. So I started digging a bit deeper.”
“I see where you’re going with this.”
“Impressed? I mean, I’m impressed with myself. My digging took me all the way to London, James. It took me to the estate where Spencer James’s family was burned alive. All presumed dead. But what if one survived? Not the showman that was Spencer James, you sound too young, but maybe one of his offspring? Who could want revenge more than one of them?” She laughs a little, satisfied, and my teeth grate. “You’re his son, and you want to kill The Bear because he wiped out your family,” she adds, and I flinch. “Shame no one knows who The Bear is.”
“I’ll find out.”
She hums. “I’ll keep this information as security along with a few other things, if you know what I mean.”
A few other things? Like? I refuse to ask. I know exactly what she means. She’s going to make a rat out of me. “What are you saying, Agent Hayley?”
“I’m saying you’re cornered.”
My blood simmers with a rage that’s dangerous. Cornered. I can’t be at someone’s mercy like that. “Stay safe, Agent Hayley,” I grate in warning, hanging up, my fist clenching around the phone. “Fuck!” I throw it with enough power to shatter the glass door of my office.
Prologue - Part Two
Miami – Two Years Ago
BEAU
I push my way out of the station and take in the clean air as I hold the wall, leaning down to pull off my boots. My feet are screaming, my head ringing after a twelve-hour shift. I look up and down the street, searching for Mom. Whatever possessed me to agree to her painting party tonight, I’ll never know.