Page 194 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
“The cab?”
“Yes,” I said, gesturing to the red taillights. “The fucking cab.”
We stayed close behind her, and I strained to watch her silhouette in the rear window. I could barely see her, but my mouth was watering at the thought that she was almost in my grasp, just a few short breaths away.
She could have easily been headed to the Constantine compound, and if that were the case I’d have ordered my driver to overtake them on the long straight before Bishop’s Landing, just to get my hands on her. But no. She wasn’t heading to the Constantine compound. She wasn’t heading to anywhere uptown, in fact, let alone anywhere in the billionaire district.
My interest was piqued as she headed for one of the dregs, her cab rolling through blocks of cheap apartments before finally pulling up at the sidewalk amongst some rancid, mediocre housing blocks.
For a moment, I had a flash of frustration that maybe I’d read her journey wrong, and that by some fuck up I’d been following a random person. But no. It was the same blonde beauty that swung her legs out of the cab ahead of us, walking on her stilettos toward the entrance.
I checked out the street sign. Not a nice part of the city.
“Thanks,” I told my driver and tossed him another handful of hundreds before bailing out of there. He sure as fuck didn’t hang around for me to answer any questions, just raced away with a screech of tires along with the rumble of Elaine’s ride.
I was lucky she was a clumsy mess as she fished in her clutch for some keys under a flickering orange light. I was close enough to hear her curse as she dropped them to the ground and struggled to feel around on the concrete to find them.
“Well, well, well,” I said. “I never expected to find you here.”
She lurched back to her feet without the keys in her hand, then backed away toward the door. “What the fuck? It can’t be…It can’t be…”
I gave her a smile. “Oh yes, darling. It most certainly can be.”
Even in her fear, I saw the anger burning on her cheeks. “I said it was you. I told Tristan it was you, and he wouldn’t believe me. Told me I was crazy for thinking you’d lower yourself to check out that club. Hmm, I guess we can both say we didn’t expect to find each other in this part of town, then, can’t we?”
“Why are you here, by the way?”
“None of your fucking business, Lucian Morelli.”
“Watch your mouth.” I couldn’t take my gaze from the beautiful siren’s eyes. Interesting didn’t cut it. Not for a second. Not about her. I felt my gut churning, my mind trying to untangle the knots of her and fathom just what the fuck the girl was made up of.
She was a whirlpool of chaos, flashing colors melding as one.
A mess of them, splashing and clashing, so consumed by their own momentum that I didn’t stand a chance of understanding the taste.
She was a mass of confusion and rage.
Rage and want.
Rage and fascination.
Rage and being so fucking butchered by her own pain that she was a pool of risk, waiting for anyone around her to step up and take what they wanted from her.
Money. Or blood. Or pussy.
Somehow, it was the thought of people taking her pussy that made me grit my teeth.
My words were quiet and cold. “What are you doing here, Elaine?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who’s supposed to be the genius, aren’t you?”
“Among other things,” I said.
She pressed into the wall, flinching as another sweep of fear flashed through her eyes. I reached down and picked up her keys, jangling them in my fingers.
She was quiet as I carried on speaking. Silent as her whirlpool kept on spinning.
“Among other things like the fact I’m a sadist who pushes so fucking hard that people never come back from the pain. The fact that my family owes yours so much torment that none of you would make it through alive.”
