Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)

On the other end of the line, Shade gave me a rundown of the shitshow I’d left behind at the warehouse. The fallout of what Genevieve had done.

“Sixteen of the men didn’t get a fair chance at the fifth woman, and so far, half have complained and are demanding to talk to you. My guess is that number will rise as the news filters out that you were in there. Want me to talk to them all?”

“No. I’ll tackle it.”

“It’s cool if ye just want to disappear for a week. Convict’s dying to help out more.”

Convict, my third-in-command, was a problem. He’d been a friend since we’d met in a fight club many years ago, but he had the bad habit of getting caught by the police for easy-to-avoid shit and landing a prison sentence every year or two. He’d recently been freed again and had come straight to me, fighting to prove himself useful. He was relentless when given a goal. He didn’t feel pain either so had never lost a fight. That was my reason for keeping him close: He scared the fuck out of others, and I didn’t want him as my enemy.

I liked him, too. Recognised the unsettled nature of his soul.

Yet he’d disobeyed a direct order the minute he was sure Shade and I were out of the warehouse. He’d called Shade with news that could’ve been sent as a text. A calculation I’d dwelt on. Inside the basement, my bloodlust had blinded me to the identity of who I was laying my fists into, at least by the tattoo that had come uncovered, but somehow, I believed Genevieve as much as I trusted him.

I considered my words. “Convict is an issue. He needs to be found a task.”

“Is that code for offing him?” Shade deadpanned.

I could’ve laughed, but all humour had left me. “No. Just kept away from the warehouse for a week or two.”

“Consider it done.” Shade scraped something metallic. A knife, knowing him. “By the way, Alisha is majorly pissed off with ye.”

I entered the front door of the mansion, leaving the cool night behind. I’d gone out for air but needed a run. Anything to take the edge off the constant yearning I had for Genevieve.

He continued. “She told the girls that your arse was hers. Then ye went and pulled that stunt. Ye basically cheated on her then married yourself off in one go.”

I hid a sigh. Alisha would get over it, and I had bigger fish to fry. “Thanks for the warning.”

“I’ll get on with gathering up your shite, then I’ll hit the road and drive up there. See ye later.”

Jogging upstairs, I made my way to the family room and stuck my head in. Cassie was alone in an armchair, a book open in front of her.

Her eyes narrowed, a squint of annoyance. “If you’re after Little Miss Prissy, we locked her in your room.”

For fuck’s sake. “What happened?”

“She pissed me off. Why has she got such a low opinion of ye? What have ye told her?”

“Nothing.”

“Ugh, that’s the problem, then. Men are ridiculous.” Cassie returned her focus to her book. “Probably should remedy that before she slurs your name to the whole world.”

I heaved a sigh and went to go, but she called me back.

“When do I get to dance at your club?”

“How about never.”

“Why not? It’d be fun.”

“Fuck around and find out what happens, Cass.”

She poked her tongue out, so I turned on my heel and headed back down a floor and around to the wing that contained my rooms. The key was in the door, and I unlocked it and entered.

Like last night, Genevieve had the lights out.

“Asleep?” I called out.

“Nope,” came her voice from the bedroom.

Strolling in and snapping on switches as I went, I found her sitting up cross-legged. The lamp behind backlit her hair so it glowed gold. For a moment, it was all I could do just to stare. If some divine being had downloaded my every desire, whether known or hidden, it couldn’t have produced a better fit than this woman.

Everything from her poise to the shape of her throat and the expression in her blue eyes sank arrows into me. If I let myself even think about her tits, I was hard. Being in the same room with her on a bed, I was hard.

Cassie’s criticism that I hadn’t told her enough about myself to stop her hating me hit home. For the next month, I would be tied to Genevieve Jones. Having her not hate me would probably help with that.

I leaned on the doorframe. “Do you have an allergy to light bulbs?”

“Actually, it’s the other way around. The dark freaks me out, so I make myself endure it.”

“You’re scared of the dark?”

I snapped on another lamp.

She raised a shoulder, her expression uncertain. “Everyone’s scared of something.”

The retort was ready on my tongue, the reply that I wasn’t. But it would be a lie. I knew my greatest fear, and I’d taken pains to never let it happen again.

Genevieve took a breath. “Cassie told me a few things about your business which make no sense to me. She implied that you run the warehouse as some sort of place of safety for the women who work there. She said you don’t take money from them for yourself. Is that true?”

“Cassie has a big mouth.”

“Is it, though?”

“I’ve never taken one single penny from the women. Everything they earn goes back to them or to the running of the club and other concerns.”

“What other concerns?”

“We fund a nursery. Housing. Education. Many of the women are studying, some to pick up basic qualifications they missed, a couple are doing degrees. We even have a lawyer to help out when needed. Thea, one of the women who lives here, is a social worker. She spends a lot of her time helping out.”

“Then why do they need you and your skeleton gang?”

“Protection. If I didn’t provide it, do you think the warehouse would exist untouched?”

That steady gaze of hers burned with a mixture of curiosity and reluctant belief. I didn’t have to prove myself to her, but I wanted to. I needed her to understand everything I’d built and the empire I’d die to defend.

My phone buzzed, and I read the screen, glad for the excuse to stop our stare off. “Shade has your things from the basement. He asked if you want anything from your flat brought. He can go there with Alisha, and she can pick up some clothes if no one’s home to help.”

“How long will I be here?”

“A few days more. Then we’ll go back to the warehouse.”

“Days? How’s that going to work when I have a ten-hour shift coming up on Tuesday?”

“It won’t.”

She dug her fingers into her hair. “I’m going to lose my job. I had Sunday and Monday off but I can’t take more.”

“When you get your phone back in a few hours, call your boss and tell him you’ve been arrested or have jury service. Whatever floats your boat. Lying comes easily to you. Make something up.”

She shot me a dirty look. “That’s only part of it. I’ll be losing money.”

“You’re forgetting I’m duty bound to provide for you. While you’re under my roof, metaphorically speaking, I’ll support you.”

“Paying me? Doesn’t that make me a sex worker?”

“We’d have to have actual sex for that.”

Genevieve’s eyes flared. A shockwave of lust rushed through me, so strong I nearly staggered under the weight of it, my dick so hard I could drive nails into the plasterwork.

I swore and balled my fists. “I need to go for a run. Want to come or stay here?”

She slid from the bed. “I’ll come. Tell your friend no thanks for going to my place. Summer had a bag of clothes ready when she brought me back here. Even running shoes and a sports bra.”

“God, woman. Don’t talk to me about your underwear unless you want me to tear it off you.”

This earned me a smirk, then she flapped for me to leave the room so she could get changed.

I texted Shade who gave me a thumbs-up which I figured meant he was on his way.

When Genevieve was ready, we set off through a side door of the mansion and into the night.

“Does the dark scare you outdoors?” I asked.

Genevieve stretched to warm up, her cropped t-shirt lifting at the sides to expose her skin. My mouth dried.

“Now you mention it, not really. Probably because if I’m outdoors in the dark, I’m moving. I work at night a lot, but it’s in the city where it’s brightly lit and I’m on my scooter with a headlight.”

We started running, and gravel crunched under our shoes. The mansion sat in acres of parkland which gave way to forests and wild moors, the Cairngorm mountains surrounding. There were paths here and there including a circular one which would take us on a decent running route.

A heavy yellow moon hung overhead, low, ripe, and nearly full. It lit our route well, and for several minutes, we ran with no arguments, just peace.

I wanted to get back to my questions about the murdered woman, but I held off, enjoying the tranquillity.

Likewise, Genevieve didn’t rush to fill the space. The only sound was the thuds of our footfalls, a rhythmic beat in the night air.

At first, we ran apace, neither of us leading or trailing much behind. If the path narrowed, I’d let her go ahead, enjoying the sight of her backside in her tight shorts. When we ran through a short area of pitch-black woodland, she kept closer.

For some reason, that act of trust did something to my brain.

I was ultra aware of her, my skin fucking prickling. The exit to the woodland appeared ahead, and we flew out of it into a meadow. In daylight, this would be full of flowers. Now, it was ghostly strands of long pale grass that moved in a barely there breeze.

Genevieve scanned our surroundings. I was about to speak when she stumbled. I caught her, but her foot came between mine, tripping me. I rolled backwards into the long grass, and she fell, too, with a gasp of breath, landing astride me on the ground.

Right on my lap and directly over my dick.

The woman shot her shocked gaze down my body. “You’re hard.”

“Seems to always be the case when I’m around you.”

“That can’t be comfortable to run with.”

I breathed a laugh, my hands at her hips. “I’ve known worse.”

For a moment, she didn’t move. The rigid length of me was right at the apex of her legs, only the thin material of our shorts separating us. She was mine. My claim. The need surged in me to roll her underneath me and take her.

It hit the brick wall of the fact I’d never touch an unwilling woman. Even a matter of days ago, I hadn’t intended to touch any woman at all, but she’d strode straight through that boundary and smashed it to pieces.

I’d broken my vow for her. It pissed me off.

Ducking her head, Genevieve climbed off me. “Sorry for tripping you.”

We set off again, my dick even more uncomfortable. I didn’t fucking care.

We’d circled the mansion, and the path turned us back towards it.

Genevieve spoke fast. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but it’s important to me that you hear my side of things when it comes to how I got into the basement.”

I shrugged, keeping my pace steady and matching hers. “That’s fair. I’ve asked you to believe the apparently unbelievable. It’ll make things easier if there’s some understanding between us.”

She shot me a dubious look. “I last saw my father nearly two weeks ago. He’s been missing and won’t answer my messages. The night I ran in front of your car, two men had been around to our flat and posted an eviction notice on the door.”

“That’s why you were distracted?”

“It was part of it. After the accident, I went to find my brother. His girlfriend said that Dad has been hanging out with a woman who’s a stripper. The reason I came to your club was to trace her, and therefore my father.”

I frowned, and she continued speed talking as if needing the words out.

“I asked a few of the people who worked there and peeked at the rota outside the dressing room. No luck.”

“So you came back and lied to get inside for a second go?”

“Exactly. I needed to reach the other floor.” She bounced as she ran, her eyes bright. “Nothing to do with you or your game. I didn’t know anything about it. So you believe me then? I just wanted to find my father. Without him, I can’t negotiate with the landlord about the money he owes. And I don’t even know what he’s done with the rent money because Riordan and I paid it to him.”

“What’s her name?”

“The stripper? Sydney.”

My stomach tightened. I stopped on the path.

Genevieve halted, too. “You know her?”

“She used to work for me, right up until about a month ago when she joined another gang.”

Sydney had stolen the other women’s cash tips and run for it. I’d had confirmation of where she’d gone from a snide message from Red, the leader of the Four Milers, a rival gang. He’d once vowed to take every one of my women.

Then Genevieve showed up.

Fuck.

Every tiny speck of warmth I’d started to feel for the beautiful, treacherous woman who’d landed in my lap iced over so thickly it made my teeth clench. I’d been such a fool. I still wanted her like nothing else, but I couldn’t believe she was anything but a horrible liar.

A plant, probably, assuming Red or another gang leader wanted something from me they couldn’t get by sending someone into the club.

Her shoulders slumped. “Dad’s never had anything to do with the gangs. None of us ever would.”

More lies, and this one was on the nose because it paired with another fact I knew. I’d asked Shade to do some digging on her background, and he’d discovered that her brother was screwing a gang hanger-on. A woman named Moniqua whose brother was in the Four Milers, known for their gang tattoos of a spiderweb. I’d chosen to put that to one side as the guy held down a job and wasn’t on our radar as a problem.

I’d been a fucking idiot.

Everything I’d considered twisted into something different.

Genevieve drove her toe into the ground, kicking up dust. “You know the gangs. Can you help me find him?”

“No, I fucking can’t.”

She recoiled. “Why not? I just told you that I’m going to be made homeless. Not only that but I’m worried about my father, too. He’s not responded to me in all that time. What if they’ve caught him?”

“Gangs don’t hold prisoners for no reason. If they’ve had him for all this time, he’ll be dead.”

“Don’t say that!” Her eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Why not? It’s either that or he’s working for them.”

“It’s neither. Please, help me find him.”

“I said no. Stop asking.”

I started running again, anything not to look at her face. At the body I was rapidly growing obsessed with. I was furious at myself for hearing out her lies.

She dropped a few feet back. “Fine,” she muttered.

But it wasn’t. Life was anything but fine, and breaking my rules for a woman only proved that.

Shade arrived a few hours later. I locked the gang spy in my rooms and went out to meet him. It was after two AM now, but I’d slept all day, as was typical for one who worked at night.

He rested against his car’s bonnet, hands in his pockets, his gaze on me worried. “Ye okay?”

Not at all. Not the tiniest bit.

“Perfect. Did you bring what I asked?” I snarled.

“Drop the shite, man. It’s me.”

I took a breath, dropping my head back for a moment. My pulse still sped along, but he was right. He deserved my truths, plus I had something to ask him.

“I’m anything but okay. You know what I did.”

“Wish I knew why.”

“I needed the woman, and I knew the second I saw her in there that it was by mistake. She didn’t sign up for it. Plus if I lost her to some other guy, I’d lose the ability to question her on something important.”

He tilted his head, waiting.

“I was wrong about the mistake part,” I exhaled. “She’s not what she says she is. I was taken in.”

Briefly, I explained her further link to the Four Milers. Our rivals who would do anything to see me rot. “I just have to wait out my time with her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be easy,” Shade said. “Ye claimed her in front of all the others. By your own words, ye started an unstoppable bond. Are ye keeping to the rules?”

I nodded a short, unhappy agreement.

The game did this. Forged couples in the most unbreakable way. I delivered that promise to the people who signed up and paid a bundle for the privilege. Sometimes, I’d felt envy for their easy lives and how they could follow the draw.

I couldn’t. No matter what my body felt, I’d never love her.

“But you’re resisting,” Shade decided.

“It won’t happen to me. Neither of us wanted this, even if she conned me to get it.”

“You broke every rule in your book for her.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I snapped. “It isn’t for romance and fucking roses that I followed her into the basement. The woman who was killed, she knew her.”

Shade rolled his hands. “And that’s important because…?”

“I’m almost certain the murderer did it as a sign to me.”

“So what information has your woman provided?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

He swore, disbelief in his eyes. “You tied yourself to her for no information. That’s why I asked if you’re sure. You’re in for a world of pain if you’re right and the same if you’re wrong, because mistrust and lies are the thing that will destroy the relationship.”

“If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”

“What-the-fuck-ever.”

I summoned my strength, because he wasn’t wrong. It already hurt just to be close to Genevieve. Quitting her was going to kill. “Seriously, if you ever catch me slipping for a woman again, fucking stab me. Now, I have a job for you. Find out where her father is. Don’t confront him, just locate the man. When I’m ready, I’ll deal with him myself.”

“On it. Convict can help. Ye also need to know that your pet detective came by the club earlier. He didn’t say what he wanted.”

Fucking hell. I ticked over what Detective Dickhead might want. “Shade, how did you dispose of Bradley?”

“Fuck ye for asking. I did everything I should’ve.”

If he wasn’t after me for that, then what? In time, I’d have to find out.