Hard to Get (Killer of Kings Book 4)(9)
She’d just put her keys in her car lock when Janet rushed her from behind. “Riley!”
“Don’t sneak up on someone like that,” she said, clutching her chest.
“I can’t work like this anymore,” Janet said. “I can’t even get to my car.”
“Why not?”
“It’s over there. I’m scared to go near those creeps.” Janet held her suit jacket shut tight as she glanced over the top of the car to the other end of the lot.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Riley asked.
Janet exhaled. “Would you?”
Riley nodded, putting her keys back in her purse. “No problem.” After the life she’d lived, rough guys and drunks didn’t scare her. “You should park in front of your office next time.”
“I know. I will,” said Janet. “I don’t usually leave this late, but I had a lot of paperwork to finish.”
They walked across the lot together. The loud laughter and cursing mingled with the music from the bar. The door was propped open, and a group of men were outside. Riley smelled pot, and it churned her stomach. She’d moved out to the suburbs to get away from this type of shit.
Once they came into view, the old guys stared whistling and firing off the crude catcalls.
“Just ignore them. They’re like feral dogs, don’t look them in the eye,” said Riley. She waited for her friend to get safely in her car, and then she stood back as she backed out of her parking space. Janet gave her a little wave before she disappeared from view.
“Come on over here, doll,” a gruff voice called out. “I have a surprise for you.”
Riley cringed as she walked away, putting up her middle finger without a backward glance. Drunks disgusted her, especially drunks that hit on her at eight o’clock when she just wanted to get home from work.
“Fat bitch!”
She rolled her eyes and got into her car. If there was one thing she was used to, it was insults. Riley didn’t allow other people’s opinions to affect her. Or at least she tried. It was another part of the wall she built around herself to keep from getting hurt. She loved her body and took care of herself. There were so many times she could have said yes to drugs and turning tricks, but she respected herself too much for that. It had been a constant fight for her, and it was one she was determined to win.
Riley pulled into her driveway, her mood spoiled despite her attempts to push the rude comments away. Did Shadow think she was too fat? Stop torturing yourself, Riley! Tonight, she’d take a nice long bath after dinner to unwind. She’d let the rest of the world slip away and get lost in a good book or just close her eyes and let her mind wander as she soaked in the bubbles. It sounded like a good plan to her.
By the time she went to bed that night, she expected a solid night’s sleep—not to be woken by her phone sounding off at 2:40 AM. When she sat up to check who was calling, it was the alarm at her bakery. She frowned. There was nothing of real value to steal, except day old baked goods that she’d throw out in the morning. Then she remembered the expensive mixers and supplies she kept in the back and her heart started racing.
She struggled to get dressed while fighting off her grogginess. Riley prayed it was a false alarm.
****
Shadow had wanted to find out more about Riley Church. He’d been obsessing over her since that night with the knife. The thought of a problem living next door, a woman who could unravel his secrets, didn’t sit well with him, so he needed information. Since she refused to give him anything, he got what he could from a bit of deeper digging by Maurice—more but not all. The real story needed to come from Riley.
Since his own contract was still in the recon stage, he’d had plenty of time to watch Riley on the large screens in his basement. He had her routine memorized. It had very little deviation, except tonight when she came home two hours later than normal.
She paced the hallway, her little hands in tight fists. Something had happened to upset her, and he reminded himself he needed to wire her bakery, too. When she began stripping off her clothes in the bedroom, he flicked off the screen. He didn’t need to see more. Riley already had him facing every day with blue balls. He’d always been proficient at keeping his emotions and desires in check. There wasn’t a fucking woman in the world who could get into his head or tempt him into her bed—until now. The little troublemaker with the wicked curves had gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
Love at first sight was a joke, something invented for cheap chick flicks. It certainly didn’t pertain to a man who’d devoted himself to killing for a living, a man who vowed never to let his emotions come first. Shadow didn’t need or want a family. Then why couldn’t he put Riley out of his head? Why was he ready to kill for her?
That night, the motion sensors he had set up at Riley’s house went off, waking him up. He barely had time to see her speed out of her driveway in the dead of night. Fuck!
Where would she be going at this hour? Once again, he shouldn’t care. She was crazy, and a huge complication to his chosen lifestyle. But instead of heading back to bed like he wanted to, he was busy checking the clips on his Glocks. He had a glass of orange juice as he pinpointed the GPS location of her car on his cellphone. She was heading back to her bakery.
He set the glass in the sink, grabbed his jacket, and headed out.