Изменить стиль страницы

If You Dare _1.jpg

If You Dare _2.jpg

Begin Reading

Table of Contents

A Preview of The Girl in 6E

Newsletters

Copyright Page

In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

To girls with broken hearts and vengeful souls.

Go forth and raise hell.

I had little but my secrets.

They kept me company at night, they formed a protective shield between me and the outside world. Hidden behind them, not one soul had all of me, not one person had wormed past the black tangle of deception. For that’s what I was best at. Deception by omission. With my inner circle, I lied by omission. With my clients, I lied by distraction, seduction, and the false front I’d grown so good at portraying. I was good at lying. I’d gotten so good at it that I’d lost the truth in everything. Lost the ability to shift through my own bullshit. Lost the ability to know if I was lying to myself. And in that break, I’d lost the ability to police myself.

I started out this twisted game with three rules.

Don’t leave the apartment. I stayed inside apartment 6E for three years before I broke that rule. Just once. Then twice. Then… I’ve lost count by now.

Never let anyone in. I broke that rule with two people, both of whom met grisly ends.

Don’t kill anyone. Two years ago, that rule seemed realistic. I know myself better now.

Now, I will have new rules. New restrictions. They are all designed to keep me safely inside, when it’d be best for everyone involved if I am out. You see, there are a lot of people in prison. And they aren’t able to run far.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

Past

“YOU KNOW I love you.” Jeremy spoke softly against her ear and Deanna stirred, rolling over in bed and pulling the blanket over her head. He tugged on the edge of it but she held it tight. She had strength in her tiny frame and he smiled. Pulled harder and finally broke it clear, her face unveiled when the dark gray sheet was yanked down.

He lived to see her face. The delicate planes of it, the way her nose turned up slightly and her full lips parted in the moment right before she spoke. The arch of her eyebrows, the thick length of her lashes, the piercing amber of her eyes. Storms grew in those eyes; lightning flashed and heat smoldered. He could experience a lifetime in those eyes and never find his way out. Could kiss those lips for centuries and continue to crave the taste. Could dig his hands into the thick mane of her hair, pull her head back, look down into that face, and stay in that moment for the rest of his life.

She wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow him more than a passing glance. She was quick, furtive, her beauty hidden behind a flip of her hair, a sharp retort, a sudden burst of overwhelming sexuality. She wouldn’t let him stare, wouldn’t let him devour, wouldn’t let him study. She gave him thin shards of herself and watched closely, with the expectation that he would cut himself and let her drink his blood. And therein lay the problem.

There was a strong possibility he was in love with a psychopath.

CHAPTER 2

Present

WHEN I COME to, the apartment is dark and I am on the floor. I prop myself up with an elbow, then a hand, looking around and trying to find my bearings. Slide far enough right to see the clock: 10:12 p.m. I look to the door and wonder if it is locked. Contemplate checking, but am too tired. My head feels odd, like it weighs a hundred pounds and is wrapped in cotton candy, my brain barely able to think through the mess of it all. I want to sleep, and can’t really summon the will to stand, so I crawl on my stomach, along the dark floor, and into bed. Wonder, in the half moment before I fall asleep, where Jeremy is. I start to lift my hand to the pain at my nose, start to try and remember…

I don’t notice when my hand hits the floor.

CHAPTER 3

Past

LILY LEANED AGAINST the counter and tapped her fingers on the granite. “Fancy place,” she said mildly.

“Not too fancy.” Jeremy took four steps in and spun, falling back on the new couch, the leather smacking upon impact.

“Fancier than Prestwick Place.”

“Anything would have been.” Twenty-three Prestwick Place had belonged to their grandmother, inherited by their parents, passed down to Jeremy. Prestwick had burned to the ground nine months earlier. He rubbed a wrist, then realized the gesture and stopped. “I had to set out pots every time it rained.”

“No pots here.” His sister glanced up to the ceiling. “And… this belongs to your girlfriend?”

“It did. I close on it next week.”

“She just had an extra house lying around?”

“I didn’t ask. It was cheap, the insurance check came, I took it.”

“Doesn’t look cheap,” Lily said.

“I think she cut me a deal.”

From the other room, Olivia tore in, socked feet sliding across the wood floor, hands spread out for balance, blond hair settling into place when she stopped. “There’s two bedrooms,” she said breathlessly. “Is one mine?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure. Go ahead and claim it. Just don’t stick a NO BOYS ALLOWED sign up.”

His niece wrinkled her nose as if he’d said something wrong. He probably had. Dealing with a ten-year-old girl was like handling a grenade. One wrong joke and she exploded. “I’m a little old for that,” she sniffed.

“My apologies.” He glanced at Lily, who bit back a smile.

“Olivia, there’s a basket of socks on the dryer. Go match them up.”