Page 4 of His Witness

“Well, ummm. Thank you. If you need us for anything. I mean, just let us know. I mean, well, we should be going.”

I think motor mouth just realized that these guys aren’t interested in a description of the killer and that she’s been spewing a whole bunch of information that maybe they didn’t need.

One of them leaves the room and I just have this really uneasy feeling that he’s going to call somebody else to come talk to us.

Or something.

Panic rears its ugly head and I jerk at her arm, my eyes rolling wildly.

“Well, we’ve really got to go. Thank you so much for listening to our crazy story.”

Then we race for the door and I almost sob with relief when I realize that it’s not locked. I had a sudden vision of being locked in that interview room when the killer shows up to fix what he didn’t get done last night. Because I’m pretty sure that the look on his face means that he’s planning to get rid of loose ends and that’s what I am right now. One big fucking loose end.

A car slides in front of us and then before we can even think to scream, we’re thrown into the back of it. The man I saw Tally with last night is sitting there, totally at ease, smiling softly at her and then the behemoth that I have a slight memory of hauling me over his shoulder last night, pushes into the car beside me and almost jams me into the opposite door. His big body is putting off heat like a furnace and I glare at him when he pushes at me and blocks me in.

“You really shouldn’t be at the police station, woman. They can’t help you.”

Glaring at him, it takes all of two seconds to rethink telling him that I know he’s right.

Ummm. Don’t tell the enemy what your next move is, stupid, I chide myself.

If I didn’t know any better I’d say that I said it out loud considering the hellish grin that crosses his very firm lips right before he leans closer and whispers, “I’m not your enemy, beautiful. I might be the only thing that manages to keep you alive when this is all said and done.” His harsh voice rings in my ears and I swear I feel blackness seeping into the edges of my vision.

I’m a good person. A good girl. What the hell did I ever do to deserve this nightmare?

CHAPTER3

Victor

The woman is gorgeous. Petal. I remember it from last night. Petal Monroe.

She’s soft and curvy and built like my fantasy come to life. She’s also sweet, innocent and obviously naive if she thinks she’s going to be able to get out of whatever the hell she managed to get into by just ignoring it or going to the cops.

I shift on the seat, trying to get closer to the little tempting morsel. I’m a big guy but she’s got curves that look built for my pleasure. And I’ve got just what she needs for her pleasure.

Judging by the look on her face she’s not buying it though. Her hand comes out and pushes at my chest, trying to move me away from her and I want to laugh. There’s no way I’m moving if I don’t want to move. I’m 6’5” of solid muscle and immoveable object. I don’t go anywhere or do anything that I don’t want to do.

“What did you have to say to the police, little one?”

“Nothing,” she lies. I can see it’s a lie and I want to turn her over my knee and spank that gorgeous apple ass of hers until it turns pink with my handprints all over it. Until she can’t sit for a week and she remembers every time that she does that I don’t like being lied to. Especially by my woman.

“I don’t believe you, beautiful. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s disloyalty.” I nod towards where Xavier and Tally are talking rather animatedly. “Your girlfriend seems to be doing well with Xavier because she hasn’t lied to him. I can’t say the same of you.”

Her lips thin and she crosses her arms across her chest which makes me notice her deep breaths pushing against her ratty old sweatshirt. My eyebrow lifts. “That’s an interesting outfit you’re wearing.”

I don’t mean to hurt her but I think that I do. There’s a quick flash of hurt in her pretty blue eyes that makes me think that she’s used to hiding a lot of things. Used to being last on someone’s list of things they need to protect and take care of.

My hand snakes out quickly, catching one of her slim hands in mine. I lift it to my mouth and run my lips along her knuckles, smiling slightly when she drags in a deep breath.

That’s what I wanted to know. That she wants me as much as I want her.

Because I do. I want to drag her into my bed and punish her soft body ruthlessly with my hardness until she’s screaming and crying for mercy.

Does that make me a sick bastard? Maybe. Does that mean that I don’t intend on doing it at some point? Hell, no.

This woman is mine. For all time. There’s no way she’s getting away from me. And there’s no way that any man, woman or child is taking her away from me.

I intend to keep this little morsel as my bride until the day we die.

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