Page 7 of Hunted Temptation (Alpha Nights: Unlikely Heroes #4)

Chapter Six

VAUGHN

I did not do that job the way I should have. It was messy, emotional, and unorganized. But I also didn’t see another way around it, because no way in fuck could I have let this motherfucker touch Elodie.

The pull I feel toward her, from the moment I laid eyes on just her picture, is otherworldly. I can’t explain it. I don’t think I ever could.

She follows behind me, and I can hear her flip-flops clacking.

Click-clack. And I can’t help but grin. Never would I have imagined myself with a woman who wears flip-flops.

I enjoy everything expensive, including the finest money can buy, personal shoppers, food delivery, and high-end clothes and shoes.

I lived a life of poverty and was abused by the hands of powerful men. I swore I would never be vulnerable ever again. I choose to kill in an effort to keep my own monsters at bay. It is the only way I can contain the beast within me, the reward being the money and security I crave.

As we walk across the street, I chuckle at the sound of the clickity-clack of her shoes as they echo throughout the night air. It should not make me smile, but it does. It’s a bit of comic relief in a very serious situation.

Walking into the Airbnb, I stand to the side to allow her to pass. She stops at the front porch, tilting her head back, her eyes finding mine. “You were at the window.”

Elodie’s voice is filled with wonder and awe. She slips into the house, only stopping just inside. I do the same and close the door behind me. She doesn’t turn the lights on, which I’m grateful for. I don’t need them on. I’m waiting for a phone call.

I’ve already sent the license plate number to Boden. I’m not sure that anything will come of it, though. It’s probably owned under a fucking shell company. Probably Pointe Industries or some shit.

“What happens now?” Elodie’s voice calls out from across the room.

I didn’t even realize she’d moved to the other side of the room. I was so lost inside my own head that I wasn’t paying attention. This is the way people fucking die. Although there are three bodies across the street, I think I’m safe here at least for a few hours.

“Now I make sure that scene is set the right way.”

“How?”

As much as I want to tell her, I don’t. I can’t trust her. Just because I saved her, just because my cock craves her, that doesn’t mean I know her. And I’m not sure I need to know more than what she feels like when I’m inside her.

“Don’t worry about it. I have it handled.”

And I do.

It might have been messy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t set the scene the way it needed to be for an open-and-shut murder-suicide case. I was more than ready to do that shit the day I showed up here, before Elodie… watching her, taking her in, figuring out her story.

Now that I know, there was no way in fuck I was able to leave her there alone. I’m taking her with me. I’m not sure how this story is going to end, but it’s going to begin with her walking away from that fucking hellhole.

The rest is up to her, up to the fucking universe.

“How?” she asks again.

Closing the distance between us, I move toward her. I want to take her in my arms, kiss her, and show her that whatever the fuck has been happening to her, that’s not the way it’s supposed to feel.

I don’t do that, though.

She flinches, taking a step backward. She doesn’t know me, not yet, but she will. I don’t make another move. Instead, I stop and take her in. I have to remember that I killed two men in front of her. No doubt she’s nervous as fuck.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

She shakes her head, but I know she hasn’t eaten. I’ve been watching her long enough that I know she hardly eats at all. Although it wouldn’t take more than one look at her extremely small frame to know that as well.

“You need to eat,” I state.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Her words shouldn’t upset me, yet they do, just a little. My lips twitch into a smirk. “Babe, if I were going to kill you, you’d be dead already. But you need food.”

She doesn’t say anything, I hear her swallow, and I know she must be nervous. Jerking my head toward the kitchen, I ask her to come in there with me. I don’t want to take my eyes off her, at least not yet, not until we’re out of town and heading home.

“I’m going to make you some sweet potatoes, chicken, and green beans.”

Choosing that menu isn’t just for her. It’s for me, too. I need some protein and sustenance. This is the meal I had planned, and I was going to make double for meal prep, but Elodie can have it instead.

She can have anything.

“That sounds like a lot,” she murmurs.

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Sit at the bar and talk to me,” I order.

She does, but hesitantly. I know she’s got a million different questions, but right now, I’m not going to answer them. I figure the road trip to get back to Nights will be a good time to go over all that shit.

“Who are you?” she asks.

I guess I owe her at least that much. As I start to peel the purple sweet potato, I tell her my name. “Vaughn McCrae,” I say. “I’m from Nights, North Carolina.”

There is silence, and she doesn’t ask anything else immediately., I finish peeling the potato, but before I cut it up into cubes, I look up at her, arching a brow in silent question.

“I’m so confused. You know who my father is… was… don’t you?”

My lips twitch into a smirk. “I do,” I murmur. “In more ways than one, Elodie.”

ELODIE

In more ways than one .

He knows.

This sexy stranger knows.

And my cheeks tint pink with embarrassment about how much he actually knows. I watch as he moves around the kitchen. It doesn’t take him long to make the bowls, and as the smells waft toward me, my stomach growls with anticipation.

I’m starving.

I can’t even think of which question I want to ask him. I’m too hungry and frankly exhausted to even think of any. Sure, they’re there, rolling around inside my brain, spinning in circles, but the words don’t come out.

When he slides the bowl toward me, I am ravenous.

Thanking him as he slips the fork into my palm, I tuck into the bowl, closing my eyes as I begin to eat.

It’s amazing, warm, and filling. Only when I’m about halfway through the meal do I look up at this man, this stranger who may have saved me from the depths of one hell, but that doesn’t mean he won’t throw me into the fires of another.

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask.

“That depends,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t continue.

He takes a few more bites of his own food, chews, then swallows before he clears his throat. “On you,” he continues. “On what you want.”

I’m confused. I’m a woman in a man’s world. It has never mattered what I want… ever. I don’t say that, but he has to know. He must. He knew what he walked in on, so much so that I could see the rage in his eyes. I know it was rage. Because his eyes have lightened, the blue is now almost crystal.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper.

Because I don’t understand. Not a single part of this makes sense to me. This stranger walked into my house, killed another stranger, and my father. I don’t know if he’s like them or if he’s a vigilante. And he could tell me one thing, and I still wouldn’t know what was true.

So, I’m sticking by my not-understanding statement.

“You’re coming with me, then once I know you’re safe, you can figure the rest out.”

Figure the rest out.

“With what money?” I ask.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes searching mine, then his lips curve up slowly. “Don’t worry about that, Goldie.”

“Goldie?” I ask.

I choose to ignore the devilish grin on his face while he assures me that I don’t have to worry about money. Because who the hell doesn’t have to worry about money? Money is the main reason for me still being in that situation, in that house.

If I didn’t have to worry about money, I would have left a long time ago, at the very least the second I turned eighteen.

“Golden hair. I could call you gray?”

“For my eyes?” I ask.

He grins, giving me a wink before he turns to the sink. I watch as he washes out his bowl, then clears his throat and turns back to me. He flicks his gaze to the bowl, then back up to meet mine.

“You done?”

“I’m finished. It was really good, thank you.”

Vaughn dips his chin in a single nod, taking my bowl and cleaning it up, then he cleans up the rest of the dishes. I should help him, but I’m stuck staring in awe as he moves around the kitchen as if he were made to be in it.

“Are you a chef?” I blurt out.

He turns his head, his eyes find mine, and his lips twitch. It’s cute as hell. I should not be thinking about this man being cute, hot, or sexy in any way whatsoever. But I can’t help but look at him and think of him in that way.

Especially when he’s so close, when he prepared an amazing meal, when he seems like he could be a knight here to rescue me.

“I’m not, but I do enjoy cooking. I’m a homebody,” he murmurs. “Come on.”

Without another word, he walks past me, out of the kitchen and toward the staircase.

Sliding off the chair I found myself far too comfortable in, I hurry after him.

I’m not sure that I should be blindly following a man I don’t know, but since I’ve been doing it, why should going up a dark staircase be any different at this point?

He walks into a room, and I follow behind him. He has a computer set up on the desk, and he sits down and starts punching the keyboard, but I ignore it, mainly because I am too busy focusing on the house across the street… my house.

I am directly across from my bedroom window. “Were you watching me that night?” I ask.

He grunts. Turning my head, I look over at him. His fingers have paused on the keyboard, and his gaze meets mine. He’s serious, his expression blank, but I know there is something working behind his eyes.

“Yeah, Goldie. I’ve been watching you.”

“Why?” I ask.

He hums and leans back in his chair slightly before he pushes it back and stands. His body faces mine, and his eyes search my eyes for a moment. He sucks in a breath and holds it before he lets it out slowly, then clears his throat.

“I was actually watching your father. You were a happy distraction that took a turn I wasn’t quite expecting.”

I open my mouth, but snap my lips closed when he closes the short distance between us. He lifts his hand, and I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but it isn’t for him to run the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, tugging on the skin slightly.

The move should make me recoil. Every time someone has touched me in this way, it’s made me physically ill, but he doesn’t—his touch doesn’t.

I want more.

When he dips his chin slightly, resting his forehead against mine, he lets out a sigh as he closes his eyes. I do the same, wanting to pretend that I’m a normal girl with a normal, gorgeous man holding me. Not that I’m me, and he’s a murderer.

When Vaughn takes a step backward, his hand falling from my face, I hate the loss of his touch. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Right now, I’m tying up loose ends, then we leave town.”

I don’t bother asking him where we’re going. It doesn’t matter. He’ll just tell me not to worry, and I’ll worry anyway. So I might as well just worry and call it a night. Turning away from him, I stare out the window again.

All the same lights are still on.

He didn’t turn any new ones on. Everything seems to be exactly as it should in this little slice of fucked-up suburbia.

Nobody is the wiser that the chief of police is dead.

I start to ask him what happens when the town realizes I’m missing, but decide against it. He knows what he’s doing. At least I think he does… I hope he does.