I could have let it be a symbol of the pain between us—of what could have been. But I was done seeing it that way. Somehow, I had to break this curse.
Not for me.
Not even for Graham.
For Hunter.
chapter 8
THE ONE HE COULDN’T TOUCH
Graham
Rule of survival#864: When you can’t get over someone, don’t have a threesome with them and their new boyfriend.
The emotional hangover will be fucking unbearable. And don’t forget the fact that you will most likely have to see her again and again, until you find the fucker that wants her dead. Fingering her won’t be enough to satisfy your need. Hell, even fucking her won’t. The only thing that will solve it? Making her yours again… claiming her… holding her tight, and never letting go.
You could try to do all the smooth talking and woo her over, but ultimately you—and your dick—will be on a dedicated mission to get back inside without having to play by her boyfriend’s rules.
But, right now you’re trapped. Stuck watching her boyfriend fuck her with that smug-ass grin on his face because he knew he set the rules, and he knew if you wanted to be with her you’d follow them.
You’re such an idiot, Locke.
The only way this was going to work was if I broke thatmotherfucking curse—or killed the bastard. Honestly, I’d vote for the second… it’d be easier… and shouldn’t involve unknown magical bullshitery to rock my world again.
God, I hated mornings.
Especially the ones that came after a not-so-great date. Not saying I didn’t enjoy every goddamn second I was in her presence. It just… wasn’t enough. That wall I built between us by leaving was strong, and I knew she did what she had to survive, but goddamn it, why’d she have to curse him? Now we were stuck with a third wheel that probably couldn’t even change a tire, let alone put gas in his Bentley.
The gentle click from the captain’s office door followed by his footsteps into the room sent me back into reality.
“Mornin’, Locke,” he said, taking a long sip from a to-go cup—probably his third or fourth.
“Cap.”
“Welcome back. How you been?”
I felt my face transform into disgust. “God, you’re too cheery for… well, you. Did Kathy give you an extra good send off this morning?”
Nettles let out a chuckle and took another sip. “Always here with the jokes. I like it.”
I looked around the room. “What fucking universe did I fall into?”
“I figure we’ve been bumping heads long enough.” He pulled out a fresh toothpick and popped it into the corner of his mouth. “Time to start working together. Besides, I’ve been worried about you.”
I blinked at him, my brows pulling tight together. “The other day you were worried I was going to screw this up—cut the crap and get to the point.” I leaned back in the chair and adjusted my leg holster, acting like his antics weren’t fucking with me.
All these years, all the cases, and this man had never once asked me how I was. Suddenly we’re friends? I don’t think so. He wanted something.
“I know this isn’t your usual shift, but I figured you’d want to be here to go over this with me.” He set his coffee down and handed me a folder.
I opened it and was met with the face of another doppelgänger, this one alive. Broken. But alive. Her facewas basically crushed. Guy probably slammed it into the concrete when she fought back. But the resemblance was there. Uncanny. I hated every second.
Nettles leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching me for a reaction. “This is Mia Thompson. She was attacked last night. Bishop Warren found her on his walk home from the hospital. But something’s not adding up. Bishop lives on the other side of town from where Mia was. There was no reason for him to be there.”
“It’s a crime to take a walk?”
“No. But I’d be beat after working late at the hospital and dealing with those kids’ parents—wouldn’t you?”
