Mister Black: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 1 (In the Shadows)

BOOK: Mister Black: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 1 (In the Shadows)
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Mister Black: A Billionaire SEAL Story, Part 1 (In the Shadows)
P.T. Michelle
(2014)
Tags: romance
romancettt

** This is a NEW ADULT contemporary mystery/thriller romance meant for readers 18+ **

We all have someone who crossed our path and fundamentally changed us. That one person who blew through our lives, their presence forever stamped on our psyche. They linger in our thoughts, in our hearts, and in the decisions we make. A soul crusher or a dream maker, depending on the perspective.

My person is MISTER BLACK.
I didn’t know him by that name when I first met him.
I didn’t know him at all, but the impression he left behind was just as powerful as the name I call him today.

He is Black: a deadly enforcer and masterful seducer.
I am Red: a justice bleeder and willing participant.
Together we are passion. Colors colliding through each other’s lives.

When our secrets converge in a passionate encounter,
stepping out of the shadows just might be worth the risk

 

We all have someone who crossed our path and fundamentally changed us. That one person who blew through our lives, their presence forever stamped on our psyche. They linger in our thoughts, in our hearts, and in the decisions we make. A soul crusher or a dream maker, depending on the perspective.

 

My person is Mister Black.

I didn’t know him by that name when I first met him.

I didn’t know him at all, but the impression he left behind was just as powerful as the name I call him today.

 

He is Black: a deadly enforcer and masterful seducer.

I am Red: a justice bleeder and willing participant.

Together we are passion. Colors colliding through each other’s lives.

 

When our secrets converge in a passionate encounter, stepping out of the shadows just might be worth the risk

2014 by P.T. Michelle

All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook cannot be re-sold or given away to others. No parts of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Interior formatted by
E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

 

To stay informed when the next
IN THE SHADOWS
book will be released, join P.T. Michelle’s free
newsletter

 

“I
hate him. I hate him, I hate both of them.” The words seethe from my mouth in a hiss as I barrel through the unforgiving, frigid downpour. Water sloshes inside my holey tennis shoes with each pounding slap against the trash-strewn sidewalk. I have no idea how far I’ve run. A couple miles? Ten? It feels like forever. A car drives past, its wheels splashing up a spray of water. I barely give it a glance. I breathe in short, rampant pants, my chest folding inward, crushing my heart. Images of little Amelia’s chubby cheeks, pale blonde hair, and chocolate brown eyes flicker through my mind in a torturous, endless loop.

She was so very still. She’s gone now. All because of innocence and curiosity.

No—because of spineless weakness and indifference.

I’ll never hear her say “Talia” again or feel her sweet arms clutching me tight as I lift her into a hug. I choke up again.

Nausea churns in my belly.

I stumble as my thighs begin to shake.

Before my legs give out completely, I slow to a brisk walk-run and wrap my arms around my quaking body. The light from the car’s taillights fades, while the cold rain mats the hair that has unraveled from my braid to the sides of my face. Welcoming the harsh pelting, I rip at the elastic on the end of my hair, then tear my fingers through the thick braid, yanking the long red locks free.

An hour ago, I’d rushed straight to my personal sanctuary like I always did when I needed to calm down or think. The fire escape outside my window couldn’t soothe my shredded emotions this time, but it did give me an exit from my life. I couldn’t climb down fast enough. And now I’m standing here in the freezing rain without a coat. Not a very smart move for someone who never plans to return.

When I see a man lying on a tattered couch butted against the curb up ahead, my insides tense. I glance around, trying to make sense of the neighborhood I’ve stumbled into. It’s in the same rundown state as my neighborhood on the Lower East Side, but nothing looks familiar.

I straighten my spine and keep up my brisk pace.
Don’t look at him. Don’t let him see that you’re afraid.
All I want to do is call my aunt, but I don’t know what to say. How to begin? At this point she’s already home from her shift.
Little Amelia. Oh, God
. I squeeze my eyes closed briefly and whimper. Aunt Vanessa could’ve done better than her stuck-in-a-rut boyfriend, since all Walt had going for him when they first met was steady work as a carpenter. But becoming Amelia’s “mother”—whose real mother skipped out on Walt when Amelia was just four months old—seemed to help my aunt finally find some contentment. With Amelia in our lives, she’d been much more laidback and less intense.

Somewhere in the distance a police siren goes off, making me jump. I immediately want to run, but force myself to stay calm and keep up my steady pace. I have no idea where I’m going. Just away from the siren.

As I pass the bum, even in the rain I smell his stench. I wrinkle my nose and hold my breath while I keep moving forward. Suddenly a hand grabs my shoulder, tugging me around.

“Hey, you got any change?”

While he stares at me, I throw my hands wide, partly to shrug off his hold, but also to look aggressive and confident as pent-up rage and anxiety spikes. “Do I look like I have any change on me?” He might have a scraggly beard and need a bath, but he’s the one wearing a freaking coat and knit cap, while I’m in skinny jeans and a thin sweatshirt in a forty-degree downpour.

His watery green eyes slide to the thin gold chain with two floating heart charms around my neck. “You could give me that.”

“Yeah, right.” When I turn to walk away, he grabs my arm.

“Come on, kid. I know you could get another one.”

“Let go of me!” I try to sound tough, tugging hard against the man’s tight hold.

When he starts to reach for the delicate chain, I wrench out of his grasp and take off in the direction I’d come from. He’ll have to rip it off me. My aunt worked two jobs to buy me the necklace for my eleventh birthday. She gave it to me two years ago, not long after we moved in with Walt and Amelia. “The second charm is for Amelia,” she’d said. “When she’s old enough, I’ll buy her a necklace and you can give her one of the hearts. Then, the two girls in my life will have a matching pair.”

Ill-fitted boots
clomp,clomp
on the pavement not far behind me, knotting my stomach. He’s surprisingly fast for a guy who loafs around all day. Just when he catches up to me, someone calls out in a strong voice, “Leave her alone, Harry.” We both stop on the sidewalk.

The rain slows to a lighter shower as the guy chasing me swivels around. He snorts at the older teen, who’s staring at him across the roof of an idling black Beamer.

“Well lookee who’s come a slummin’. It’s been a while, Blackie.” He lifts his bearded chin toward the car. “Why don’t you give me some money instead?”

The guy snorts and slams his car door, then comes around the front of the car. “So you can go buy some liquor with it? I don’t think so.” He fishes his hand in his front jean pocket, pulls out a receipt and hands it to the guy. “Take this up to Jake’s Diner. I’ve paid for you to have ten meals. If you hurry, you can grab your first one tonight before they close.”

Harry grunts, then snatches the receipt, tucking it in his pocket. He doesn’t even look twice at me as he passes, apparently taking the guy up on his offer without so much as a thank you.

Once the homeless man turns up another street, the guy looks at me. “I’ve never seen you around here before. Did you just move into the neighborhood or something?”

While the drizzle plasters his black bangs to his scalp and makes the ends of his hair brush his coat collar, I skim my gaze past his shadowed face to his fancy car, then back to his nice leather jacket. He doesn’t belong here. “I don’t live in this neighborhood,” I say.

“Where do you live? You shouldn’t be out here alone.” He pushes his hands in his pockets and looks up as the rain finally stops, his breath pluming in the crisp air. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

His gaze returns to me as he steps into the lone lamppost’s light. He’s nice looking with sharp cheekbones, but his eyes snag my attention. They’re so unusual, I’m mesmerized; one is dark brown and the other is a striking brilliant blue. He edges a bit closer.

Wary, I take a step back and quickly look down at my hands. Red stains every crease and crevice, caking my knuckles and along the lifelines in my palms. A moment of panic sets in that he’ll see it. I curl my fingers inward, blinking rapidly, then glance down once more. My hands are clean. It must’ve washed away in the downpour.

Wishing I could pop my skull open for an equally thorough cleanse, I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. Now that I’m no longer running and amped up on pure adrenaline, the cold is creeping over my body. “You—you’re not from this side of town.”

He glances over his shoulder toward the street he’d driven to earlier and says in a low tone, “I used to be.” Facing me, he shrugs out of his coat. “It’ll always be a part of me.”

Before I can move, he steps forward and drops it around my shoulders. “Here, I can tell you’re freezing.”

Instant warmth and the smell of rich leather envelop me. I can’t resist pulling the coat tighter. “Thanks,” I mumble, hiding my face behind my wet hair.

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