Ripped Page 12

  That might have been true, but I still never wore red. “I don’t really like red,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “It’s so conspicuous.”

  Cade was lounging on a couch next to the dressing rooms, watching me parade around. He was drinking champagne too. “Conspicuous is good. You’ll be my camouflage. Everyone will be looking at you, and no one will even see me.”

  Joanie laughed. “Certainly that’s not true, Mr. Davies. You’re very noticeable.”

  He seemed to realized he’d slipped up a bit with that statement and he hid behind his champagne glass. “I want red anyway.”

  “Well, it’s your money.” I turned to the mirror, making a face.

  He grinned over the glass. “Yes, it is.”

  So, Joanie brought a red dress, a little strappy thing with a big slit up the thigh and no back. When I put it on, I felt like I was half-naked. And it was so tight that there was no way I’d be able to sit down. I’d have unsightly bulges if I did.

  I came out of the dressing room shaking my head. “There’s no way. I can’t wear this, I’m sorry.”

  But then I saw the expression on Cade’s face as he took me in. It only flitted across for a second, and then he was grinning again, drinking his champagne. But for one second I saw hungry, naked need.

  It took my breath away.

  “Don’t be silly,” he said, draining his champagne glass. “That’s the dress.” To Joanie. “Ring it up.” He took out his wallet and handed her a wad of cash. “Should cover it?”

  She surreptitiously counted it. “Oh, yes, Mr. Davies. Excellent. I’ll bring your change.” She disappeared.

  Cade turned to me, arching an eyebrow. “You need help getting out of that thing?”

  I closed myself back in the dressing room without answering. The last thing I wanted to do was get it on in Nordstrom. That was way too trashy. Not happening. And if he helped me get undressed, well…

  As I was getting my clothes back on, I heard Joanie return. She counted back Cade’s change, which was over fifty dollars. I guessed he’d handed her a wad of hundreds.

  I gulped.

  “What happened to the other girl?” said Joanie. “You brought her four or five times.”

  I was clasping my bra, but I froze. The other girl?

  Cade cleared his throat. “You’ll probably want to take the dress from Shell. She can hand it out, can’t you, love?”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize—” Joanie was obviously embarrassed. “How are you doing in there, Shell?”

  “Fine.” I opened the door and handed out the dress.

  “I’ll wrap this up for you,” she said.

  “Do that,” said Cade.

  It was stupid to think that I’d be the only girl he’d ever bought clothes for, I told myself as I finished getting dressed. It wasn’t as if he’d been living under a rock before he met me. And there wasn’t anything between us, anyway. So, he was free to buy as many dresses for as many women as he wanted.

  But suddenly, the whole thing seemed tainted, and I didn’t feel bubbly or warm anymore.

  I was actually developing a wine headache.

  I emerged from the dressing room.

  He was tucking his change back into his wallet. “We don’t have to be there until nearly eight,” he said. “You’ll have time to work on your comic and then we can get some food.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  He looked up at me, but then he looked away.

  And I didn’t know what to say.

  * * *

  Cade

  I took her home. To my actual house. I took girls here sometimes, if I had to bring them home with me. I didn’t like that, because then it was hard to get rid of them, and I often wanted to get rid of them. So, generally speaking, if I met a girl at a bar or something, I tried to get her to invite me back to her place. Much easier that way.

  The only woman who I’d ever brought back here with any regularity was Angie, and I didn’t like thinking about that. I probably only was thinking of her because that stupid woman at the store had the nerve to bring her up. I could have slugged her for doing that.

  Anyway, my place was my sanctuary. I’d had it custom-built, and it was tucked away on about fifty acres, meaning that I had a good bit of privacy. Having that much land meant it wasn’t really close to the city, of course. I was about an hour’s drive away. The solitude was worth it to me. The house was very modern. It had a lot of sharp angles and black marble and glass walls. I liked it to feel open, to let in the light. This was the place that I didn’t have to hide.

  When she saw the place, Shell seemed impressed, and that pleased me.

  She tried to hide it, tried to act as if she thought the house was no big deal, but I could see that she was a little awed by it.

  I wasn’t sure why I was glad of that. I guess I just liked her thinking well of me, thinking well of my accomplishments. It was stupid, maybe a dumb guy thing to care about, but I liked that I could impress her. I wanted to impress her.

  Even though I knew that it was stupid to bring her back here, because now I would have memories of her here, and after she left, there would be rooms that I wouldn’t be able to stand being in for days afterward. I loved my house. I loved the solitude.

  Sometimes, though, I had to admit that the solitude could be crushing.

  I could have taken her somewhere else. I should have. We could have gone to headquarters. We could have gone to a hotel room. But I brought her here.

  I was stupid, all right.

  Once we were settled in, I left her to work on her comic strip, which I had to admit that I was curious about. I wanted to see it, but I didn’t dare ask. Since it was on the Internet, however, I went searching for it, and it wasn’t hard to find. She seemed to write a strip about a single girl in D.C. who drank a lot. It was funny. The main character was unlucky in love and looked a lot like Shell. I could only suppose that the thing was semi-autobiographical.

  There was a donate button on the site, and I clicked it.

  It asked for the amount I’d like to donate. I typed in five thousand dollars.

  Too much. She’d wonder where it came from.

  I typed in one thousand.

  Still too much?

  Maybe I could donate five hundred twice, from two different Paypal accounts. I had two, one legitimate, one not so much. But I really shouldn’t use the unlegitimate one for something like this.

  I sighed.

  I typed in five thousand again. Let her wonder.

  * * *

  Cade

  I clutched Shell’s elbow, steering her through the ballroom. It was all low lighting and understated decor. There were waiters with black bow ties going to and fro with glasses of champagne, and the guests were gathered in small groups, wearing their designer clothing and making pleasant faces.

  “Smile and keep your chin up, love, like you’re too good to be here. It’ll help you blend in,” I whispered in her ear.

  She looked amazing in the dress, and I had been right that she would stand out, that everyone would look at her, and no one would look at me. My client had gotten me onto the guest list at this charity function, held in the ballroom of a ritzy hotel downtown. I had planned to come alone, but having Shell with me was the perfect disguise. No one would look twice at me. She was handy to have around, actually. I wondered if maybe, after this was all over, she’d want to—

  But that was ridiculous. Even though there was some crazy sexual tension between us, a girl like Shell would never willingly extend her interaction with a guy like me. I knew that.

  It was best to enjoy the moment, not to dwell on the future.

  “We’ll walk around the room in a circle,” I said. “Nod at everyone.”

  She glanced at me sidelong. “Why am I doing that?”

  “So that everyone sees you. So that everyone notices you, and sees me with you. And then, if anyone should ever talk to the police, they’ll remember that you were hear the whole time, and they’
ll be sure that I was with you as well.”

  “I’m your alibi?” she said in a low voice.

  “I don’t need an alibi,” I said. “You’re just extra insurance.”

  “Well, at least I know why I’m here.”

  I pressed against her. “You’re here to look stunning, to make every man in this room want you.”

  Her neck flushed. “I’m not… No one’s thinking that about me.”

  I brushed my fingertips over her back, almost carelessly. “You want to know what I’m thinking about?”

  She swallowed.

  I spoke low and urgently into her ear. “I’m thinking about peeling this dress down to put your perfect tits on display. I’m thinking about your pretty lipsticked mouth wrapped around my cock.”

  She shut her her eyes, unsteady on her feet. When she spoke again, her voice sounded a little frayed, but she was still sassy. “You still think I’m going down on you, huh?”

  “I know it.” I seized her by the back of the neck, turned her, and kissed her hard, claiming her mouth.

  She clung to the lapels of my suit.

  When I pulled back, she gave me a dazed look.

  “Why don’t you see if you can get us some drinks?” I pointed to a table across the room. “Maybe some hors d’oeuvres. I’ll be right back.” I strode off before she could give me an answer.

  I saw my mark off to the left, talking to several men. His name was Brett Doherty. He headed a billion-dollar corporation that had covered up the fact they were testing their drugs on humans and that they’d killed hundreds of people with unsafe medications. I’d been hired to take him out by a competitor, someone who wanted to cut the head off of the company for financial purposes. But I’d taken the job because the guy was dirty. He knew what was going on. He didn’t care. He had killed for money, and he’d killed a lot more people than I ever had or would.

  I grinned at him. “Brett! How’s Sally?”

  He furrowed his brow at me. “She’s fine. I, um, sorry, have we met?”

  I laughed. “You don’t remember me? From Aspen?”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “Well, that’s not a problem,” I said. “Because I remember you, and I remember you drunk off your ass, spilling your guts about the way you turned a profit on Asgodyne, so—”

  “Maybe we should talk privately.” He looked alarmed.

  “Maybe so,” I said. I took him by the arm and led him out of the room.

  “Who are you?” he said as we cleared the doorway. “How do you know about Asgodyne, and what are you planning on doing with that information?”

  “I’ll explain everything,” I said. “But let’s get some fresh air.” I steered him to the parking lot.

  “Where are we going?” he said.

  “Just to my car,” I said. “I’ve got some files there you’ll want to take a look at.”

  “Listen,” he said. “If you want money, we can talk. I’m happy to enter into negotiations with you. How much are you looking for?”

  I stopped us right next to my car. I patted him on the back. “Oh, I don’t need your money, Brett. Thing is, I’ve been hired to kill you.” I slid a hypodermic needle out of my sleeve and eased off the cap with one finger.

  He jerked his head up. “You’ve been what?”

  “You killed people, Brett. That’s why you’ve got to die.” I slid the needle into his neck.

  He crumpled.

  I caught him.

  I popped the trunk open in my car and slid him inside. I’d finish this job later. No reason to kill him in a parking lot.

  Instead, I headed back in to the party to find Shell, and I ate a few crab puffs and some mini-quiches.

  “Let’s dance,” I told her. I felt keyed up, alive, ready to take on the world.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  I took her plate from her, and led her out onto the dance floor. I put my hands on her waist. I let them roam dangerously lower, over the curves of her ass. I touched her anywhere I damned well pleased.

  She was in the dress I bought for her. She was on my arm. And I knew it wasn’t true, but I was going to ignore the truth and tell myself lies.

  I was going to lie to myself that she was mine.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Shell

  We didn’t stay at the charity ball for much longer than forty-five minutes, which was fine with me, because the dress might have made me look hot, but it was incredibly uncomfortable and awkward. Couple that with the fact that Cade couldn’t keep his hands off of me while we were dancing, and that was kind of working me up.

  He looked amazing in a suit. He seemed sophisticated and yet primal, as if he’d encased all his raw power in designer clothes. The lines of his suit seemed to have been tailored just for him, cut to show off every aspect of his phenomenal body.

  But all I could think about was how badly I wanted to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt and put my mouth on the tawny solidness of his chest and stomach.

  Being with Cade was like being half-aroused all the time, and there was never any time to release all the pressure. I thought I might pop soon.

  One thing that did confuse me was that I had thought that we were there so that Cade could do a job, but he hadn’t. Unless he’d gone off any killed someone in the span of ten minutes, which was the only time he left my side.

  Then, as we were driving off, I heard a muffled bang from the trunk.

  “What’s that?” I said.

  He switched on the radio, turning it up loud. “Don’t mind that.”

  Oh, God. He had a man in the trunk of the car. An alive man. Was he going to kill the man in front of me?

  I didn’t know if I could…

  We drove. The music blasted. Every now and again, I could hear something from the trunk.

  Eventually, Cade got off the interstate, and took a series of complicated turns, until we were somewhere in the middle of nowhere, on a tiny two-lane road that didn’t even have white lines painted on the edges.

  We pulled onto a one-lane bridge, and Cade stopped the car, but he left the key in the ignition, the music still pumping. “Don’t listen,” he said to me.

  * * *

  Cade

  I took off my jacket and dress shirt, leaving me in a white undershirt. I pulled on a pair of plastic gloves.

  Bobbing my head to the music, I opened the trunk.

  Brett looked up at me. He yelled.

  I laughed. I dragged Brett out of the trunk by his hair.

  “Please,” he said. “I’ve got a wife. A daughter.”

  “What about the 248 people who died in Asgodyne trials?” I said. “Did they have wives? Husbands? Daughters? Dogs?”

  “You don’t understand,” he said. “I had to compete. Every company is doing it—”

  “No,” I said. “Some companies are actually not breaking the law.” And then I shot him.

  I yanked a concrete block out of my trunk and some rope. Whistling along with the music, I tied the body to the block, and then I lugged them both over to the edge of the bridge and chucked them over.

  I wiped my gun down with bleach water. Over the side it went as well.

  I took a plastic cup out of the back of the car, filled it with bleach water. I peeled off my gloves and dunked them inside. I kicked it off the bridge too.

  Then I turned around.

  Shell had gotten out of the car, and she was standing there, watching me.

  * * *

  Shell

  “You do like it,” I said. I shook my head. I got back in the car. I turned down the music.

  Whistling. He’d been whistling. And he wasn’t the least bit affected by what he’d done at all.

  He got in the car next to me. “Shall I tell you what it was that man did? How many people he killed?”

  “I heard,” I whispered.

  He started the car and continued over the bridge.

  We drove.

  We were quiet the whole way back to his
house, which took nearly an hour and a half. While we were driving, I tried to gather myself, to think of what I was going to do.

  But mostly I just felt terrified, because I was disgusted by what he’d just done, but I still felt half-aroused, and when I looked at him in that white undershirt, I felt hot and tight and shivery.

  When we got back to his house, I threw myself out of the car and ran inside. His front door wasn’t locked. I guess he wasn’t paranoid. Maybe because he lived out here, all by himself, maybe because he knew he could protect himself if he needed to. I wasn’t sure.

  I ran up the steps, unsure of where I was going. He’d showed me the kitchen and living room downstairs, but that was all.

  I emerged at the top, into a master bedroom that seemed to stretch over the entire top floor of the house. It was a huge room, the walls all made of glass. The bed was against one wall, the comforter black and sleek.

  Everything here seemed sterile. Beautiful, sure. Expensive, yes. But too clean and too big.

  He came up behind me.

  I rounded on him. “You can’t just be the judge and jury,” I said. “Even if he is guilty, that’s not how things are done.”

  He took a step towards me. “It’s how I do things.”

  I held my ground, refusing to feel bullied into retreating. “Well, you shouldn’t. Especially not since you seem to find it so enjoyable.”

  “That’s exactly why I have to do it.” He closed the distance between us. “If I don’t let it out somehow, Shell, it’ll come out in bad ways. Worse ways.”

  I put a hand on his chest. I meant to hold him at arms’ length, keep him away, but somehow it turned into a caress.

  His voice was gruff. “I know you find me detestable, but you can’t deny that there’s something between us. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

  My mouth worked. I didn’t detest him.

  “Take your hair down,” he murmured in a gravelly voice.

  I did it. I didn’t argue, I just reached up and pulled the pins out and let it fall. “You’re not distracting me from this. You told me that I should stay away from you.”

  He tangled his hand into my hair, holding my head in place. “That was before Ice was after you. Before your life was in danger. I can’t let you go now.”