Toxic: A Dark Romance

The bed is empty. There’s only a note on the nightstand that says, “Be back later. –G.” Then a hastily added scribble, as if he knew what I would be thinking and wanted to head me off. “Don’t come after me.”

I’ve seen what he can do, but that doesn’t mean he can take care of everything on his own. Especially not after what happened last night. The son of a bitch should know better.

Part of the blood to be spilled is mine for what they stole from me, so it infuriates me that he would leave without me, knowing how I feel about the whole matter. Not that he gives a damn.

I throw off the sheets and dress quickly and quietly. The gun Gracin gave me for our outing at the bar is still in the nightstand drawer where I left it. I retrieve it and stow it in the waistband of my jeans. The remnants from the night we spent together twinge and ache, but I ignore them as I peer out the bedroom door. Now that I know my way to the control room, I plan to slip through to it and take one of the sets of keys I saw hanging on the wall. There’s no way in hell he’s going to do this without me. If I have to hog-tie everyone in this whole house, I’m going to find him.

As luck would have it, Marie appears before I can descend the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks.

I give a passing thought to lying to her, but I swear the woman can read minds. “I’m going to find Gracin,” I say matter-of-factly. “I don’t care if you’re ninety, if you try to stop me, I will knock you on your ass.”

She harrumphs and crosses her arms across her chest. “It’s your funeral,” she says.

When I’m reasonably sure she won’t follow, I increase my speed as I try to retrace my steps to the control room Gracin showed me. If I can just get to one of the vehicles and get away from his house, I’ll figure out a way to track him. There has to be GPS of some sort, if not tied to his cell phone, then certainly in the car itself. Not that I have any earthly idea how to do something like that, but I’m not helpless. I can figure it out.

When I reach the security room, the same two bodyguards who were there the day before look up at me simultaneously.

“Where is he keeping Desmond?” I ask without preamble. “And don’t fuck with me right now.”

They share a glance. “Mr. Kingsley informed us—”

“I don’t give a damn about what Mr. Kingsley said. Either you tell me where he went or I will find a way to get to him myself.” I pull the gun from my waistband, and point it at the guy on the left. “Now, either one of you starts talking or I start shooting things.”

Ten minutes later, I pull the truck out of its parking space. There should be some remorse for threatening them, but there isn’t. I punch in the address the guards provided and consider Gracin’s words from the night before. I’m not powerless. I can take care of myself. I’ve killed a man, wounded others, and evaded the police. I’m sure according to the United States government, I’m a criminal and a fugitive. No better than what I considered Gracin when we first met. Then it makes me wonder if I was ever the good person in this story. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m the goddamned villain.

Sal, it turns out, isn’t far away. He keeps a house on the California-Mexico border for when he deals with his Mexican contacts and the cartel for drug shipments. According to Gracin, they hadn’t had business dealings for a long time, so that’s why it took him a long time to track him down. I don’t care as long as I make him pay for what he took from me.

The house, which only takes about forty-five minutes to get to, is a sprawling contemporary monstrosity. The type of place that screams wealth and privilege. Well, it would, if the front lawn didn’t look like a gangland massacre. There are dead bodies everywhere. The guardhouse blocking the driveway is smoking, and the front gate has been mowed down.

Call me crazy, but the sight makes my heart go pitter-pat, and my girly parts light up like the Fourth of July. Being the person on the other side of Gracin’s homicidal rage may be scary, but being the reason why he’s seeking revenge makes my twisted little insides melt just a little bit. I pull up the drive, taking care not to run over any of the bodies before pulling to a stop beside Gracin’s SUV.

With my gun gripped between my hands, I crouch down and survey the front of the house for movement. Finding none, I slink along the cars toward the front door. I don’t hear anything inside, and for a moment, I think I got here too late, but then the shouting begins.

I hear Gracin’s voice and one that sounds like Sal’s. Fury burns hot in my belly and cancels out any of the fear I may have had. The front door is wide open, and I peer through, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim interior.

A gun to my temple stops me from taking even a single step inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gracin says as his body comes up behind me.

“What the hell do you think?” I hiss back, completely aware of the gun he’s pressing into my kidney. “You can drop the gun, you know.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay at the house?”

“Since when do I fucking listen to you?” I return hotly. “You knew I didn’t want to be left behind again!”

The gun drops, and he forces me around a corner into an alcove off the main hallway. “I thought after last night you’d understand why I can’t have you here.”

“I don’t give a damn about what you want, Gracin,” I say. “Did you really think sex would change that?”

There’s a scuffling sound down the hall, and we both turn at the same time.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he says against my hair. “Do you have your gun?” I hold it up and give a scathing look, which causes him to chuckle. Guess I hadn’t hidden it after all. “Good girl.”

Despite my irritation, I smile back at him.

“Stay behind me,” he says, “and for god’s sake, don’t do anything stupid. I didn’t work this whole time to keep you safe just for you to get yourself killed.”

We’re edging around the corner and back into the empty hallway when Sal’s voice calls out. “Might as well get this over with now, King. It isn’t like you to drag it out.”

Gracin stills in front of me before resuming our trek down the hall. When he doesn’t answer, Sal continues, “Fine, have it your way. I was going to negotiate with you, but if you’re going to be unreasonable, we’ll have to settle matters some other way.”

I highly doubt what Sal has in mind for us has anything to do with negotiations. If he had the balls to torture one woman just to get to Gracin so he could mete out retribution for his son, there wouldn’t be anything stopping him from killing us both the moment he lays eyes on us. Our only chance is to get to him first. Then no one will be after Gracin, and I can finally move on from everything. From Vic, from what they did to me. I don’t know if that means moving on with Gracin or without him, but I guess that’s something we’ll both have to figure out when our lives aren’t also on the line.

We turn a corner that leads to an open living area. Sal waits there with two other men—the same two nameless ones who were there that night with Danny. The devil himself is also there, and based on the vicious expression on his face, I’m surprised he doesn’t growl the moment he sets eyes on us.

My finger twitches on the side of the trigger, but I force myself to stay calm when I meet Danny’s murderous gaze.

“Sal,” Gracin says as he steps down. His casual, loose limb stride belies the concentration he levels on Sal.

“King. I’m sorry we had to meet again under such circumstances.”

“No you’re not,” Gracin says.

Sal shrugs and smiles, unrepentant, and then turns his attention to me. “And this lovely lady. We meet again. I have to tell you, King. This one is special. It isn’t every day someone survives Danny and lives to tell about it.”

“What do you want, Sal?” Gracin asks; his tone makes it evident he has no patience for Sal’s prevaricating.

“I want you dead,” he says bluntly. He turns and meets my eyes. “And I’m willing to offer your cute little girlfriend her freedom to start over if she does the deed for me.”

I don’t let my expression betray anything. “That’s a nice offer,” I begin, “but it doesn’t cover what I want from you.”

Sal raises a brow, and his lips twitch. “What exactly is that?”

Danny freezes, and I turn to him with a vicious smile on my face. “Him,” I say with a nod in his direction. “Dead.”

Sal considers for a moment, and Danny, who doesn’t miss the pause, comes to life with a roar. Gracin jumps in front of me, and the next thing I know, the sound of a gunshot fills the room.