Torment – Scarlett Dawn

Pure dumb luck can kiss my lily-white ass. A couple of times. Right after I’ve had a bad bout of diarrhea. Then possibly lick the toilet bowl I shit in. Without flushing would be best. Yeah. I hate luck. It’s for pussies. And luck is the only way I would get caught. Their luck, not mine. Fucking hell… “Ms. Megan Marshall?” A man repeated his words for the third time behind me. “I know it’s you. You can quit ignoring me. Also, I’d like to commend you on your ability to disappear without a trace.

If my alcohol-happy friend, just outside the door there arguing with his general foreman, hadn’t wanted a drink—in the middle of the day, I might add—then I still wouldn’t have found you.” And that was an affirmative. I hadn’t lost my touch for disappearing. Excuse me, Luck? You can go fuck yourself. A puff of air rushed between my teeth in annoyance. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I reluctantly turned around. Only the bar I worked behind separated two men from my annoyed glare. I attempted to keep the surprise from my features seeing who was across from me—it wasn’t hard. I was that annoyed…but I was a little hopeful now. They weren’t my father’s henchmen.

In fact, the two men staring me down were the exact opposite in every way from the idiots my father would have sent. I stopped squeezing my nose to place my hands on my hips and leaned forward in aggravation. My voice was pitched low as I growled, “I don’t go by Megan here… so keep it down.” Mr. Wolfe Cooper of Cooper Corporation smirked. “What do we call you then?” “Nothing.” I pointed at the front door with a sharp finger—to where there were, indeed, two men standing outside arguing. “You guys can leave. I already answered all of Mr. Baker’s questions to the best of my ability after I was kidnapped.

” I tipped my head to the man in question sitting next to Mr. Cooper. Mr. Baker’s white military styled hair gleamed in the sunlight, making him no less menacing. “He even recorded it. I have nothing else to say to your fancy, little group.” Fancy was a polite term for these men. Typically, I would use: Conceited, Greedy, Dangerous, Rich. Maybe even: All-Powerful. Their entire group of corporation heads was most definitely that.

They ruled the world. Classifying them was simple. Even if Mr. Godric King of King Corporation had disappeared for the last month. If the gossip rags were correct, he was on vacation. But I called bullshit. No one in his position of power goes on vacation for that long—with only his corporate besties to back up his business. No way, no how. That man was in some type of trouble. And these two across from me were covering for him.

But I didn’t give a shit either way. I wanted nothing to do with these men. When they didn’t move from the bar stools, I wiggled my finger at the door. “Now who is ignoring whom? I’m done talking with you.” I grimaced and dropped my arms and hugged my chest. “And please forget you ever saw me here.” This new job actually paid decently—all direct credits from the tips. Other than the construction of new buildings occurring outside the area on the outskirts of New City, it was an easy, entertaining job. My spirits had even started to lift when I was able to rent a small apartment directly in New City —instead of living in an alley two blocks away from work. Mr.

Baker didn’t smile. He only stared with cold eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t forget any pertinent information about your kidnapper? Anything at all that could help us catch him?” Lowering my arms from around my chest, I leaned on the bar toward them. There was something in his voice. It was a little off. If I had to guess, it was pain pushing through his solid, frigid defenses. With a glimmer of curiosity leading my actions, I questioned, “Did something else happen?” Mr. Cooper shook his head of gray hair. “No, nothing else.” But Mr.

Baker kept his eyes on mine. “Yes.” His friend’s attention snapped to him. He grumbled in warning, “Finn—” Mr. Baker lifted his hand to cut off his friend, not peering away from my person. “I answered you, Megan. Now answer my question.” My lips pinched, and I shook my head softly. Sorrow actually squeezed my chest, making my shoulders hunch, since he was this hard up for information. Whatever else had happened must have been awful—and I had seen firsthand how demented my kidnapper was.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any other information to give you. I did tell you everything that day.” He lowered his hand and nodded, his white brows furrowing. “I do appreciate that. And I am sorry if I frightened you. I’m sure that wasn’t pleasant after dealing with him.” I straightened and chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, you were an asshole.” “I was doing what I had to.

” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’m sure you were.” I rolled my eyes and gave up the fight. “Well, if you handsome guys aren’t leaving like I asked, you could buy a drink or a shitty snack we have here. And be sure to leave me a fabulous tip—for the emotional distress I had to endure before.” Both instantly glared. I snickered softly. Winked. Men like these guys weren’t capable of real change, even if a half-hearted apology was given— too late. Their dominant side ruled all, including their thought processes.

A virtual stranger like me could only go so far with the teasing. It still wouldn’t stop me. My own stubborn, dominant side wouldn’t allow for me to be brought down a peg by bossy men. I’d had enough of that in my life. I was in their league of mind games even if they didn’t know it. Of course, just as I was getting ready to dive in deep with them and manage to extract an excellent tip, it was then the most delectable male walked into the bar, and all my hormonal senses crashed down on my libido. He had to have been shot from Hell and deposited on earth purposely by the Devil, just to torment the ladies—or men. Regular guys who sat behind a desk all day were not made like him. He was extraordinary in all the rip-my-panties-off places a woman fantasized about while having their Tuesday night scheduled sex session in hopes of keeping things frisky in the bedroom—after twenty-five years of an arranged marriage. Men like him just weren’t real.

And he was staring right at me. White flag! White flag! I surrender to thee. Come take my breath away… And put those long fingers wherever you want to. “Hello, hello, hello,” I whispered under my breath. “I could lick that man all day long.” Mr. Cooper and Mr. Baker both blinked and then craned their necks around to see who I was staring at. It was Mr. Baker who snorted, and mumbled, “I should have guessed.

” Mr. Cooper merely shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t get it.” “Then you don’t have eyes,” I hissed. I ran my fingers through my hair quickly as they turned back around to face the bar. I asked in a rush, “Are the gossip mongers telling the truth this time? Is he still single?” “He’s always single,” Mr. Cooper mumbled and tilted his head to view the alcohol on the shelves behind me. “I’ll take a—” “Shh. I don’t give a shit what you want,” I griped, cutting him off. Then my eyes were glued to the man-god as he sat down next to his friends.

Mr. Rune Mason of Mason Corporation. He owned the largest construction company in the world, and by his current appearance in a simple white t-shirt and black cargo pants, he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. My lower stomach quivered in appreciation, the smudges of white dust marring his forehead and his forearms heating my blood. He placed his strong hands on the bar, cocking his head to blatantly evaluate me. I didn’t mind. I was doing the same to him. His shoulder-length black hair slipped to cover his right eye, but I could see his other one perfectly. Eyes the color of vibrant sunshine roved up and down my frame. His red lips parted in obvious surprise as he inhaled through his nose deeply, his nostrils flaring.

Oddly, I had noticed a lot of the male customers who frequented this bar sniffed in my direction when first meeting me. It was weird as hell, but none of them reacted as Mr. Rune Mason was currently doing. His chest was pumping as fast as mine was. His golden eyes were as dilated as my blue eyes were. Our black hair shifted in the breeze as an air conditioner overhead turned on as if the machinery knew we were both going to combust into flames at any moment. I raised one black brow at his silence. I may be getting laid soon. And it had been a long, long time. A shiver ran down my spine as I exhaled.

His golden eyes blinked, taking away their magnificence momentarily. As if he were in a trance, he mumbled, “You smell like sex and home…and chocolate chip cookies.” My mouth bobbed in confusion. “Thank you? Maybe?” Mr. Baker’s blue eyes widened, glancing between us. “Ah, hell.”

.

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