Page 15 of Built for Mercy

Ugh.

Just because we’d hooked up on and off since our breakup didnotmake me an easy lay. His smugness irked me, when all I was only here to get off at the hands of someone other than myself.

“Hey, Soph,” he drawled.

I gave him a quick, insincere smile. “Hey.” Then, realizing I was being a little cold, I relaxed my shoulders and leaned toward him. “It’s good to see you.”

His eyes brightened with false hope. I should feel guilty, but I desperately needed to get off. I could deal with the blowback later. “You too. Come in?”

I skirted past him into his apartment, taking in the familiar surroundings that I used to be so accustomed to. I let him pour me a glass of wine, even though I was still bordering tipsy, and entertained his small talk. With a steady flow of alcohol in my system, it was easy to keep the lust driving me here from dissipating. I was actively eye-fucking Dean and hoping he’d take the hint.

Finally, after way too long, he gave me a slow grin. “Sophie. Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

I tilted my head to the side, trying not to cringe at how I really didn’t want it to be him I was sleeping with tonight. “Since when has that been an issue?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, I guess because he expected a more heartfelt answer, but I just yanked him to me by his shirt, crushing my lips to his, running through the motions until we stumbled into his bedroom. We fell backwards on his bed, me straddling him, and as my hands smoothed over the planes of his chest, I couldn’t help the flicker of someone else in my vision, wondering whathewould feel like.

The thought made me moan, antsy to have Dean satiate these feelings running rampant through me. And even though he was beneath me, gripping my hips and guiding me to sink down onto him, all I could picture was another man, moaning my name and filling me. It was those thoughts of Maverick that had me climbing toward my release as I arched my back, my face tipping to the ceiling while I rode Dean.

Maybe it was fucked up, but the memory of Maverick’s heated touch and intoxicating gaze on my skin made me explode.

That’s when I knew I was a goner.

9

Maverick

Motherfucker.

I gaped at the pictures Duane’s security detail sent me of Sophie practically skipping up the steps to another man’s apartment, her charming smile lighting up the night. I knew it the moment she stood there, her hand reaching to knock with a casual flourish that made my blood boil. Her detail called me immediately, just as I had requested, but that didn’t make the image of her being whisked away in another man’s arms plague my mind any less.

My gut twisted with a jealousy so consuming, it felt like fire burning through my veins. I kept imagining her with her dress half falling off and her knife pressed to my throat, kept feeling her teeth sinking into my bottom lip as we both fought this fucking desperate desire.

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning in my rumpled sheets, I made a decision. If Sophie wanted to play games, thenso be it. She would soon learn that I was not a man to be trifled with. With a calculated coldness that surprised even me—because I never gave two shits about the women I involved myself with—I orchestrated for a bouquet of black dahlias to be delivered to her office with a note that read:

I hope he was worth it. -M

It was a subtle yet chilling reminder of the darkness lurking beneath the surface of our tangled involvement.

Sure, I could fuck her and move on, but at what cost? Her making an aggressive move to sweep the cartel out from under my family? Yeah, no fucking thanks.

I kept tabs on her through photo and video documentation. Which is how I could see her reaction to the flowers I sent.

When Sophie received the bouquet outside of her precinct, her expression shifted from confusion to realization before settling on a mix of defiance and horror. She knew who the black dahlias were from, that much was clear. And she also understood the silent threat embedded in those dark petals. But what she didn’t know was that this was only the beginning.

***

As the days passed, I observed Sophie’s every move with heightened vigilance. From the way she interacted with her colleagues to the routes she took home, nothing escaped my attention. It was an obsession fueled by a dangerous combination of desire and distrust. I knew I should walk away, cut all ties before things spiraled out of control. But every time I tried to convince myself to let her go, an image of her smile would flash in my mind.

One evening, I found myself detaching from important business matters so I could check my phone for any updates on her. It was when one of our distributors landed a punch that snapped me out of it. My gun was firing before I could so much as think Sophie’s name, and that was the awakening I needed.

Because now there was one thing I was absolutely certain of: my attraction to Sophie was out of hand. It was a distraction, and it was fucking with my head.

For having only met her a few times, I should be embarrassed, but really, I was borderlineobsessedwith chasing her.

It was too fucking dangerous. She could take everything from me, from my family.

I reminded myself of that often.