Page 19 of Twisted Lover


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Pushing through the revolving hotel doors, I step out into the muggy New Orleans night.

Fuck this place so hard. The heat is suffocating. My mind can barely grab hold of one thought before it’s crushed by the humidity.

Still, somehow, through all of the hazy air, I can see her.

Sophia Xiphias.

I don’t know what the fuck her deal is, but I sure as hell don’t appreciate being jerked around like this. I’m only here because of that letter she sent.

Really, I should make her pay for bringing me out here.

Running a hand through my hair, I turn a corner and grab hold of that idea.

Yeah. That’s exactly what I should do. Make the princess pay.

“Hey, handsome, looking for a good time?”

Under the streetlight ahead, a pretty young thing twirls a lock of soft brown hair between her fingers. Her sharp eyes squint as I slow to a stop on the sidewalk, and she smacks down extra hard on her bubble gum.

“Who are you?” I ask, knowing full well that I’ve just run into one of those infamous New Orleans prostitutes.

“I’m your key to heaven,” she smiles, pushing herself off of the lamp poll.

Ray might like this one. But I’m not interested.

All I can see in her are the similarities to the girl who shut me down earlier.

Shut me down.

The fury that follows from that thought sends another shiver of pain down the left side of my leg. Fuck this god-damned cursed body of mine.

“I don’t belong in heaven,” I grumble, pushing past the hooker.

“Well, then let me show you hell.”

“I’m already there, honey.”

The girl is smart enough not to follow me as I turn another corner, leaving her to stew under the streetlight.

Up ahead, I can see the garage where we’re keeping most of our armored cars. Three of my men pace back and forth at the entrance. They all stand up straight when they see me coming.

“Is everything alright, boss?”

“It’s fine. I’m going for a ride.”

“Need any company.”

“No.”

I’m not sure where I’m going, but I know I need to go there alone.

Always alone.

Picking up one of our range rovers, I tear out of the garage and start racing down the empty streets. The faster I drive, the more focused I become. The pain in my leg even starts to fade.

But my anger just keeps growing.

Her.

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