Marked (A Dark Serial Killer Romance)

“What do you drink?” Zack asks me as he settles me into a booth.

“Uh, a whiskey sour.” I haven’t gotten a drink at a bar in ages, but I remember the sweet taste of it when I was in college.

Heavy music pumps through the speakers. It’s a small dive bar, but it’s packed with people in fetish wear. The black tank top and skirt I’m wearing helps me blend in enough that I’m comfortable, while Zack pushes his way through the crowd to the bar.

“Hey.” A man in a black leather halter top stops at the table. “You come all alone?” he asks lifting his chin in my direction.

“No. He’s getting me a drink.” I gesture toward the bar.

“He shouldn’t be leaving you all alone.” He leans over the table, close enough for the stench of his beer breath to roll over me. “You look like a girl who needs looking after.”

“I do?” I give a purposeful glance down at myself.

“Yeah. If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you sit here by yourself. I’d have you on my leash, at my side, at all times.” He winks, then licks the top row of his yellowing teeth. Someone drinks way too much coffee.

“I think maybe you should go.” I try to shoo him away like the annoying little fly he is, but he’s stubborn and won’t budge.

“See? You don’t even have the right respect for a Top.”

I laugh. “You aren’t my Top. The only thing you are is a pain in my ass. Now, go before he comes back, and you make him angry.”

He looks over his shoulder, probably checking if anyone’s headed our way.

Zack doesn’t work that way; he doesn’t come when you’re watching him. It’s when you don’t see him you should be worried.

But this asshole doesn’t know that.

Yet.

“I think maybe you’re lying about being here with someone.” He leans even further into the booth. “And do you know what I do to naughty girls who lie?”

He lifts his hand, like he’s going to touch me, but he stops just before his skin touches mine. His eyes, narrowed with fake dominance a moment ago, spread wide in pain. A soundless scream, and he’s yanked back from me.

Zack stands there, our drinks safely on the table, and the wannabe Top lies on the floor cradling his hand.

“It’s broken!” He finally finds his voice.

Zack drags him up to his feet and stares at the fingers bent in odd directions.

“Yep. They are.” He lets go of him with a shove.

The crowd is large enough that we’ve gone unnoticed. So far.

“I tried to warn him.” I reach over the table and pick up my drink.

“I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.” Zack picks up his beer.

“Fuck, Brad. Again?” Another man pops out of the crowd and stares at the bent fingers.

“This fucker broke my fingers,” he shouts, but the music just swallows up the noise.

“Your friend here tried to touch what wasn’t his,” Zack says.

The other guy looks at me, then at Zack, and blanches. Zack’s not dressed in any fetish clothing, just a black T-shirt and a pair of dark slacks. The tattoos on his forearms are all the information the man seems to need to make his decision. Best to leave us alone.

“Shit, they’re really broken.” He grabs Brad’s wrist. “Let’s get out of here. Sorry about him.” He pushes Brad to get going, but Brad is hurting pretty bad and is starting to cry. It takes a while for his friend to get him to the front door.

“You think security is going to come over now?” I ask when Zack slides into the booth beside me.

“There’s no security here.” He lays his arm over the back of the booth, draping his hand over my shoulder. “I like this shirt.”

I look down at myself and grin.

Our initials are displayed perfectly in the middle of the V-neck of the top. I have no doubt he knew exactly what he was doing when he chose the spot to display his artwork.

I sip my drink and watch people grinding on the makeshift dance floor.

“Do you see him?” I ask after I’m half done with my drink.

“Yeah. He’s in the back there.” Zack gestures with his chin. “He’s talking with the owners of the club; I want to wait until he’s alone.”

“In this place? He’ll never be alone.”

“He’ll leave through the back entrance. Probably best to grab him then, but I want to watch him first. See who he talks to, see if he does any other business here.”

Zack knows more about this stuff than I do, so I don’t argue. I try to get a good look at Vince, but it’s too crowded. I only see a glimpse of his face every now and then as people move around him.

I lean into Zack.

He runs his hand over my head, petting me.

“You look good as a redhead,” he says in my ear. “Valerie was right not to go too red. This lighter shade is perfect.”

“I always wanted to color my hair, but Mom wouldn’t let me. She said women paid hundreds of dollars to get the blonde I had.” Maybe she just wanted me to keep looking exactly like Quinn. I was a walking image of the daughter she’d chosen to keep.

“You still salty I wouldn’t let Valerie cut it?” His chest rumbles with a chuckle.

“No.” I fake a sigh. “I’ll just let it grow out like Rapunzel.”

He fists my hair, pulling my head back and glaring into my eyes. His eyebrow is arched in that way of his, challenging me to go toe-to-toe.

“I’m not salty.” I grin. “But I do have to pee.”

He unravels his hand from my hair, letting me start to slide out of the booth.

“Harley,” he snaps my name, stilling me for a beat.

“It’s all right. I’ll be careful.” I pat his arm. “I promise.”

His jaw tenses. “Don’t talk to anyone,” he orders.

“Of course not.” I give him a fake salute which makes his eyebrow arch to a steep point.

“If you’re going to be bratty, I’m sure I can find someone here with a gag I can use.” His voice is hard.

A memory flickers, but I easily shove it away.

Zack’s not them.

“I’ve never been accused of being a brat before.” I smile at him as I finish scooting out of the booth.

“No accusation. Pure facts.” He leans back, hooking his arms over the back of the bench seat. “You have two minutes, little bird, before I come find you.”

“I don’t think that’s the threat you think it is.” I laugh. There’s no point in ever thinking I could outrun him, but the chase would be exhilarating.

He shakes his head.

“Two minutes.” He wiggles his fingers at me.

I head to the back of the bar toward the restrooms, working my way around the dancers and through the crowd at the bar. When I get closer to the restrooms, Vince comes into view. I don’t recognize his face, but I can tell it’s him, because everyone’s sitting around him like he’s some sort of god.

The bathroom is empty, so I’m able to get in and out quickly. If Zack says he’s counting down the time, he’s counting down the time.

I open the door to step back into the hall, but I freeze at a familiar voice.

“Well, I haven’t heard back from him since yesterday.” Agent Laurens.

I step back into the bathroom, shutting the door enough to shield me from her sight but still be able to hear her conversation.

“If he fucked up, he’s probably hiding from you. I’m going out there tomorrow to pick up some product he’s holding for me. I’ll find out what’s going on and get back to you.”

Electric fear skims over my skin, setting all the little hairs on end.

That voice.

I have to clench my teeth together to keep from making a sound. It’s Vince. It has to be.

“Fine. I expect to hear from you by tomorrow night.” Laurens sounds shaky. Like she’s losing control of her situation. “I’ve got Jimmy on me about Dustin going missing, and now his cousin is too. It’s not good.”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

“I can only circumvent so many investigations at a time. Someone picks up on these guys having connections, and their bodies start showing up, it’s going to be hard to get in front of it,” Laurens says.

“Don’t worry. Artie’s just hiding from his fuck up, and Dustin probably took off on some bender. The younger girl, Jackie, is giving him a hell of a time. I’ll pick her up and check in with you after I see him.” Vince laughs. “Those motherfuckers. Always causing stress. Don’t worry so much.”

“Maybe you should worry a little,” she bites back.

“Look. It’s going to be fine. So what if the bitch remembers what happened to her? She can’t prove anything, right? She has no idea where they were taken, and unless her mom decides to tell all of her dirty secrets, it won’t matter.”

“Her mom is another issue.”

My heart stops.

“Why? If she does decide to get chatty, Jimmy’ll take care of it.”

“It’s an issue because she’s a beneficiary of the Plastics Pension fund.”

I lean into the door just enough to see them. Laurens is tense, her fingers curl into her palms.

“Oh.” Vince rubs his chin. “Well, if she’s on his payroll now, then even better. Look, she was willing to put her fucking kid up for collateral in the first place, what’s to say she’d give a shit now if we take out the other one?”

Laurens hooks her hands on her hips.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right about that. I mean, this one isn’t even the one she chose, right?” Laurens laughs.

My blood heats.

“Yeah, fucking Jimmy.” Vince joins her in her enjoyment of my horror. “I got to get back to these fuckers. I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Try not to worry so much.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Tomorrow.” She turns with him like she’s going to follow him, but then stops. “I gotta piss before I go.” She turns around on her heel and comes straight at the bathroom.

I let go of the door, jumping back from it. Before I can dive into a stall the door pushes open and she walks through.

Dropping my eyes to the floor, I walk forward, bumping into her shoulder.

“Shit. Sorry,” I mumble and reach for the door.

“Hey. Wait.” She stops just as I get my foot outside. Do I run? No. She’s a cop, she’ll chase.

Slowly, I turn, but don’t look up.

“You dropped your phone.” She hands me my phone that must have fallen out of the pocket of my skirt.

“Thanks.” I snatch it from her and hurry out of the room, letting the door swing closed behind me.

I take in a deep breath as I hurry back to the booth where Zack is glaring at me.

“More than two minutes.” He taps his watch.

I dive into the booth and slide up to him.

“Agent Laurens is here,” I blurt out. “And Vince and her were talking in the hallway, so I couldn’t get out of the bathroom. But then when they were done, she came in the bathroom.”

I spill everything I heard them say.

“And when she came in, she picked up my phone and gave it to me. Zack, she looked right at me.”

His attention snaps to the bathrooms. Agent Laurens is just stepping back into the bar. She keeps to the perimeter on the other side and goes straight for the exit.

“Did she not recognize me?” I grab his arm. “Is she just fucking with us?”

Zack wraps his hand calmly around mine, pulls it off his forearm, and brings it to his lips. He kisses the inside of my palm.

“She didn’t recognize you because of your hair. You went from blonde to red, and she wasn’t expecting to see you here. So, don’t worry about her. It sounds like she has other worries at the moment.”

I nod, take a deep breath, and sink back against the leather seat.

“Right.” He’s right. If she had recognized me, she wouldn’t have let me leave the bathroom. “I’m glad I went with this color then.”

“It’s the perfect color for you,” he says and kisses me. “Now, slower this time, tell me again what they said about the product.”

I go over it again.

“I think he means people,” I say. “I remember when…I remember Vince coming in one time. He said he was coming to sample the product.” I squeeze my hand closed, digging my fingernails into my palms. “And he said a name. Jackie. So I think he’s talking about people. Maybe more girls?”

Zack’s features darken, and I see the beast in him slowly emerge. He downs the rest of his beer and snatches my hand, pulling me out of the booth with him.

“We need to get to them before he does.”