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Chapter One

Benji

The barrel of a gun stared straight at me. I was going to die. Right here in the back of this alley that smelled like week old sashimi and stale piss. My brain was going to decorate the wall behind me because there was no way that I could dodge a bullet from a gun that was aimed right at the middle of my forehead.

Maybe I could do that thing in the movies where they slap the gun and make a run for it. How far away from the main road was I? I glanced over the shoulder of the guy holding the gun.

“Don’t,” the man said. “Please, don’t.”

His voice was smooth, dark and way too nice for a murderer. How was I supposed to survive this? I’d just wanted to help Charlie. The guy had seemed like he could use a friend, and I was trying to be a decent human being and look where that got me. In a shitty alley about to die at the hands of some smooth-talking bastard. Maybe I shouldn’t have had all those shots. I think they’d given me a misplaced hero complex.

Besides, I’m sure Charlie shot this guy. He should be dead.

Why wasn’t he dead?

Maybe Charlie didn’t really need a friend after all.

Fuck.

Wait a minute.

Was I bait?

Oh my God. I was, wasn’t I?

Thatasshole.

I’d bought him a drink and tried to help. And after the worst day of my life, I’d just wanted to have a good time and forget all about Dr Kingsly, his ego, and his manipulative ways. Maybe I should have just sucked Kingsly’s dick. I’d have no self-esteem, but at least I wouldn’t be staring at the barrel of a fucking gun.

“I’m sorry for this, but I need you to come closer,” the man whispered.

Why didn’t he sound like some archetypal villain? He just sounded so…polite. Like he was asking for a coffee and was sorry to be putting me to the trouble of making it.

“Why?” I asked.

He huffed a breath. “Because I’m asking you to.”

Probably had something to do with the fact that he was in the shadows, and I was standing in a bright shaft of moonlight. But fuck it. He could get as frustrated as he wanted. If I only had a few minutes left with the ability to make decisions, then I was going to make some.

“If you want to kill me, then you’re going to have to come closer to me.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Fine,” he growled, and it set the hairs at the back of my neck standing to attention. Maaaybe I shouldn’t have pushed him.

He shifted forwards into the shaft of moonlight and holy fuck.

The guy was too pretty to be a murderer. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, like the ocean bathed in sunlight, and his face was all angles with a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Damn, I think I’d lose a finger tracing those lines. The only thing that took away from his prettiness was that there was no expression on his face. Nothing to give away what he was thinking. What kind of person had no emotion — Wait.

A psychopath.

Fuck.

Fucking fuckity fuck.

I really was going to die.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said softly and lowered the gun.

“Ha! Like I’m going to believe that.” I was actually really hoping Icouldbelieve that.