Chatper One

“We are in a life-or-death situation, and it would be incredibly helpful if you would open your eyes.”

The feminine voice—low, husky—floated through the darkness that engulfed him. He kinda liked that voice. It was nice. Warm. Sexy.

Something pulled at his wrist. An insistent tug.

“I don’t want to watch you get disemboweled in front of me.”

Yeah, a really nice voice. Except…a ragged edge had entered her tone. And had she just said disemboweled?

“I’m worried you’ll get stabbed over and over again. And that I will, too. So, seriously, do me a favor and open those eyes of yours. Now!” A sharp command. “Because we do not have time to wait for the cavalry to arrive!”

A groan escaped him first because his head pounded over and over and nausea rolled in his stomach, but, very slowly, he managed to open his eyes.

His gaze locked on her.

Dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. Somewhere between brown and black. Thick hair. A little wavy. High cheekbones. A slightly pointed chin. Dark eyes. Brown. No, brownish gold. He could see them quite clearly even though the lighting was dim. No lipstick on her full lips. Lips that were currently pressed tightly together as she stared at him with those intense eyes of hers. Eyes that were full of⁠—

“So happy you’re back in the land of the living. Truly, I am deliriously happy. Now, how about we both stay in this living land, and we get out of here? You were too big and far too heavy for me to drag you out while you were unconscious, but now that you’re awake, we really need to make a run for it. Especially, you know, if we want to keep on living. Side note, I do want to keep on living. I very much want that. It is my main goal at the moment.”

He blinked.

“Shit,” she muttered. Her gaze swept over his face. “Do you have any clue what’s happening right now?”

No, he did not, in fact, have any clue.

“I saw him knock you out. A very hard hit.” Muttered. Almost more to herself than him. Then she added, “That’s when I bravely rushed to the rescue. Don’t worry, you can thank me later for that. And we won’t talk about the fact that I thought you were the one doing the serial killing. My bad. We’ll save that discussion for later, too.”

His head pounded all the harder, and the nausea he felt got worse.

“Do you know who you are?” she suddenly demanded.

Of course, he did. “Atlas.” He should take stock of his surroundings and not just stare at her gorgeous face. His memory was more than a bit blurry at the edges, and he couldn’t quite remember where he was. “Atlas Bennett.” His voice strengthened. Became a touch brisk because…what in the world was happening? His gaze finally tore from her to search the area around him. The place was dimly lit because the only illumination came from what looked to be an old camping lantern tossed on the floor.

As for the floor—dusty, old wood. Dusty, dark walls. Stairs that led up to who knew where and⁠—

She tugged on him. Or rather, on his wrist. Automatically, he glanced down. And the confusion he’d felt before just thickened. “Why the hell am I handcuffed to you?” Because he was. A shiny handcuff circled his wrist. His handcuff’s mate circled hers.

“Excellent question. I’ll explain fully—truly, I will—once we are out of here. See, he tossed us both down the stairs not too long ago. During the fall down—even though you were just starting to wake up—you valiantly cushioned my body with your own. Thanks so much for that. Very brave. Didn’t expect you to do that as groggy as you were.”

What? Someone had tossed them down the stairs?

“But the tumble down the stairs, combined with the blow to the head that you’d already taken—well, you were knocked out again once we hit the bottom. I did manage to drag you a bit away from the stairs, and I searched for a weapon for us to use. Uh, spoiler, there is no weapon here. Though I did find the lantern so we could see our surroundings, and I count that as a win. Not like I wanted to be trapped in the darkness while I waited for the killer to come and finish us off.”

He realized they were on the floor. Yeah, he probably should have figured that out sooner. But the pounding in his head continued like a jackhammer, and he choked back the bile that rose in his throat. Atlas also became aware of the aches and pains that throbbed throughout his body. Probably because he’d been pushed down a damn staircase. “I know who I am,” he gritted as more of the cobwebs cleared from his head, “and I know who you are.” As if he could forget that face.

She wet her lips. “You sound angry.”

“Lily. Gallo.” Each word was bitten out from between clenched teeth.

“Hello, Atlas,” she whispered. “Guess we finally got that private meeting I’ve been wanting, huh?”

His teeth ground together.

“Honestly, I think you should consider me to be your new guardian angel.” She crouched next to him and tugged on the cuff that bound them together. “Without me, you’d be down here all alone, at the mercy of the creep who wants to torture you for hours. That’s what he’s been doing, you know. Abducting his prey in Dallas. Torturing them, disemboweling them. Killing them.”

He whipped up to a sitting position. The whole room spun, but Atlas clenched his teeth. No damn way was he going out again.

Lily sent him a weak smile. “That’s the spirit. No disemboweling for us, am I right?”

She was fucking gorgeous. Not cover model perfect. But real. Sexy. No, sensual, and if they weren’t currently in the pit of hell with the threat of apparent disembowelment looming over them, he might have enjoyed being cuffed to her.

But…

Pit of hell.

Serial killer.

And if she says the word “disembowel” to me one more time…Yeah, he’d lose it.

He shook his head, and that small move just made the nausea worse. But, dammit, this was Lily Gallo. Lily fucking Gallo. He was handcuffed in a basement to the one and only Lily Gallo. The woman who wanted to slice apart his life. The woman who thought she should get some fast pass that would allow her access to every secret he possessed. The woman he had been avoiding like the plague for weeks.

Because she is dangerous to me.

Her non-cuffed hand rose to press to his cheek. “You’re with me this time? Because you tried to wake up in bits and spurts before, but you’d go out again too fast.”

“I’m with you.” Grim. Her touch seemed to send renewed energy through him. There was certainly some kind of jolt that hit him. He’d analyze it later. When he wasn’t in danger of being cut into tiny pieces.

I should have found him. Should have eliminated him. Long before the bastard had been able to get killing close to Atlas. But, truth be told, he’d been distracted that night. Distracted by Lily. He’d actually been thinking about her when the bastard attacked. Such a clusterfuck. “I’ll keep you safe,” he vowed.

Soft laughter greeted his words. “I’m the one who has been keeping you safe. After he knocked you out in the parking lot, I’m the one who jumped into action. I’m the one who tried to fight him when he was staring at your unconscious body and figuring out where he wanted to start stabbing. Me.”

Atlas had zero clue if he could trust this woman or not. His eyes narrowed on her face. That unforgettable face.

Lily. She’d been haunting his dreams far too frequently of late. She’d tried to get private appointments to see him. Been very tenacious about her visits.

He’d had her escorted from his main office building at least twice. Had even told the security guards there that she was not to be allowed back on the premises under any circumstances.

Lily wanted to destroy him.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Except…now she was saying that she’d saved him? What sick joke was that?

“There are no windows down here.” Her voice was low. Still oddly sexy. Husky. “So that means we have to go up the stairs together. The door up there is our only way out. I would have tried to go and get help while you were knocked out, but you know, cuffed. You’re no lightweight, so I couldn’t haul you up on my own. We have to get out together. You and I are partners in this thing.”

He rose to his feet.

She did, too.

When Atlas weaved, Lily’s free hand flew out to brace him. As if she worried that wasn’t going to be enough, she then put her whole body against him. Softness. Sweetness. The warm scent of vanilla.

He hadn’t gotten close enough to ever catch her scent before. Now he knew that he would never forget how she smelled. How very good.

Sweetness in hell.

“It was incredibly heroic of you to twist your body to cushion me as we fell down the stairs. I definitely appreciate the gesture. Especially since you did it when you were only semi-aware. Sort of like an instinct. Didn’t exactly realize you had a protective instinct carved so deeply into your bones.”

“Stop analyzing me.” Lily was a shrink. She lived to poke and prod in people’s heads. He didn’t want her to talk about his instincts, because they were quite the opposite of protective. Good instincts didn’t fill him. He was dangerous. A true predator.

He also had zero memory of any fall down the stairs. Or of cushioning her.

“Clearly, you’re hero material, and I was very, very wrong about you. My apologies.”

Fuck that. He’d never been a hero a day in his life. And when he found the sonofabitch who’d done this to him…

You’re a dead man. But, then again, Atlas had intended to kill the bastard all along. As soon as Atlas had realized a serial was hunting in his town, he’d been tracking the kills. Gathering evidence. Researching. Hunting his prey.

It was kind of what he did. Not that he intended to tell the lovely lady with him that important fact. Not like he went around broadcasting the fact that he was a monster.

But…what did she mean about being wrong about him? “So you no longer think I’m a chip off the old block, huh?” Deliberate words. A taunt.

Lily didn’t answer that question. Of course, not. Because despite the fact that they were trapped in a nightmare, maybe she still thought that Atlas was just like his twisted bastard of a father. As savage and sadistic as they came.

She would not be wrong. “Maybe I’m the one you should fear.” The words just came out. Dark and rumbling.

“You’re trapped with me.” Her immediate response. “You are currently my only hope of survival. I figure you and I will live or die together, so how about you save your scary routine for later?”

His scary routine? His jaw nearly dropped.

“You’re also probably a lot more intimidating when you aren’t weaving on your feet,” she added.

Dammit. He was weaving. A bit. Fine, a lot.

“We should hurry,” she whispered even as she continued to brace him. “Up the stairs, and then, we’ll figure out how to get past the door. I am assuming it’s locked. Not like I could drag you up there with me to check. But what kind of killer would not lock in his prey, am I right? So, let’s go. Time is ticking and all that. Getting closer to our own grisly deaths.”

She was surprisingly calm about the situation. That should worry him. He didn’t think a typical person would be calm in this scenario. But from what he’d learned about her, Lily Gallo was far from typical.

She has a darkness in her past to match my own.

Her calmness—and her darkness—they both just intrigued him. He had tried to stay away from her. Truly, he had. He’d warned the woman to keep her distance. Now they were cuffed. Trapped together, just as she’d said.

Fate had such a twisted sense of humor.

Without another word, Lily eased away and began heading for the stairs. Because they were linked, he had no choice but to follow right behind her.

Now that he was upright, Atlas towered over her. He clocked out around six-foot-three, but she stood at five-foot-four. Yes, he knew her exact height. Atlas knew a great deal about Lily. He’d made it a point to know.

A quick scan showed she wore white sneakers, a white sweater, and faded jeans—jeans that fit her curves and her delectable ass very, very well.

Probably shouldn’t be noticing her ass right now.

But he was injured, not dead, and she had one helluva fine ass.

As much as he liked that ass…Atlas stilled and tugged on the cuffs.

Lily stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him.

“I’m bigger than you,” he rumbled.

“Uh, yes, I noticed. You’re quite big.”

“Stronger than you.”

“Probably so, yes, that would go along with being bigger. Your muscle mass is greater so you’re stronger.”

“So I’m going be the one who goes through the door first and faces the asshole waiting upstairs.” He’d just become aware of something wet sliding into his right eye. He brushed away the wetness.

“That’s blood,” Lily helpfully told him. “Because you’re bigger, you’re stronger, and you’re also injured. As in, you were unconscious two minutes ago, and I’m worried you’ll pass out on me again at any moment.”

Atlas locked his teeth even as he wiped the blood on the thousand-dollar pair of pants that he wore. “I won’t.” Hopefully. Maybe not.

Lily sighed. “Fine. Lead the way. You take the knife to the heart when the door opens and the attacker lunges at us. Then, when I’m cuffed to your dead body, please know how incredibly unhappy I am going to be because you insisted on going first.”

He stepped closer to her. She’d actually climbed up two stairs already, so he was a bit more on eye level with her. Their bodies brushed. “A knife to the heart,” he repeated, voice low. He and Lily were both keeping their voices hushed.

As he stared at her, Atlas’s gaze was drawn to her mouth. He really liked her mouth. Again, he shouldn’t be noticing her ass or her mouth—not under these circumstances—but, he did. Maybe it was because of the blow—blows?—to the head. The concussion he probably had. But Atlas was finding that he noticed and liked far too much about Lily. “Sounds like a killer idea.” Then he bent low, and he pulled out the knife that had been strapped to his ankle. A press of a small button, and the blade extended. Wickedly sharp.

Instead of a sigh, this time, Lily inhaled sharply. He waited for her fear.

Instead, a delighted smile spread across her lips. “I wish I’d known about your knife sooner! Great, now we have a fighting chance. You won’t hesitate to use it, will you?”

“I never hesitate.”

She swallowed. “I’ll file that away in my Points to Know About Atlas book.”

“You have a whole book on me? Ah, Lily, now I’m flattered. I had no idea you were such a fan.” Though he knew that fan wasn’t the right word.

Lily was convinced he was evil. Straight to his marrow.

“You’re a work in progress for me.” Her confession. Lily wet her lips. “Hold on a sec.” Then she shimmied around him and grabbed for the lantern. “Not a knife, but it’s better than nothing. In a pinch, I can slam it into the jerk’s head.”

Yes, he supposed that she could. “So you’re bloodthirsty, too. I’ll file that away in my Points to Know About Lily book.”

“You don’t have a book on me.”

“Um, you’re right. I have a file. A very thick one.” True story. He always researched his adversaries.

Her free hand clutched the lantern as she straightened. “After you.”

The stairway was incredibly narrow. When he began to climb up those stairs, she had to practically paste her body against his back because of the cuffs.

“If we fall, you’re going to crush me,” she warned.

He had no intention of falling. He was getting through the door at the top of the stairs. Then he’d be gutting the prick who’d abducted him. Atlas wondered if Lily was squeamish. He highly doubted it, but if the sight of blood did bother her, then she could look away.

Her sweet vanilla scent surrounded him. Tempted him. His left hand held the knife. His right was cuffed to her. The dumbass who’d attacked him had clearly not done his homework. Atlas was a lefty. He could cut a man open in less than two seconds with his left hand. From groin to⁠—

“What are the odds that he just left the door unlocked?” Lily’s soft voice barely reached him.

They were right in front of the door now. Or, rather, Atlas was. A mix of light and shadows spilled around them. Dammit, the light from the lantern would be slipping beneath the door, potentially warning the bastard waiting that Atlas was coming with an attack of his own. “Kill the light. Now.”

She did.

Instant darkness.

In the darkness, he was highly aware of her. Her scent. Her quick pants. Her body. A body that pressed closely to his. Feminine. Warm. Tempting.

He reached for the doorknob. Tried to turn it. Surprise, surprise, it was locked.

“The lock and the hinges are on the other side,” she breathed. “This is the part where we both need to try really hard and not panic.”

He wasn’t going to panic. He was going to kick ass. And probably kill. “Go back down the stairs.”

“What?”

“Go back down the stairs.” Because he was going to need a bit of a running start.

“Why are we going back down?” Lily’s words trembled. The first sign of real fear he’d caught from her.

“Because I’m bigger than you, I’m stronger than you, but if I’m going to break down this door, then I’ll need some momentum going so…head down the stairs, then we’re racing up.” He needed more room to work. That narrow area at the top just wasn’t enough space.

“You’re…breaking down the door?”

He didn’t respond to that question. He’d already said as much, hadn’t he? What else did she think he was gonna do? As she’d already noted, the hinges were on the other side, so not like he could take those freaking things off. His options were to break the lock or to shatter the wood of the door.

“You were just unconscious.”

She kept harping on that point. He was no longer unconscious. He was bleeding, yes, but definitely awake and aware.

“Do you really think slamming into a door is the best plan?” Lily continued.

He turned his head to look back at her. Only saw darkness. “Do you have a better idea?”

A pause. Then, “No. Let’s slam you into the door. As hard as we can. You’ll be our battering ram.”

His lips wanted to twitch. Trapped in hell, and he wanted to smile. Weird.

“You haven’t suspected me,” she suddenly blurted even as she crept down the stairs. He crept with her, aware of the faint groan of one stair beneath his feet. “Haven’t asked if I’m some horrible villain who staged this whole scene with you.”

“You’re cuffed to me.”

“Uh, yes…”

“You aren’t strong enough to have gotten me here alone.” And the aches in his body told him that he’d definitely hit some stairs as he tumbled and landed in the basement.

“True. But I could be working with a partner. Yet you are showing zero suspicion of me.”

He figured they were about half-way down the stairs. “Do you want me to be suspicious?”

“No. I want you to get us out of here. As fast as possible, please.”

“Working on it, sweets.”

A sharp inhale. “I’m not sweet. Please don’t make that mistake.”

Her scent surrounded him. And her scent was very, very sweet. His chest ached. Not from the fall he’d taken before. A whole different kind of ache. The kind that told him this woman would probably wind up being more trouble than the killer who waited upstairs.

After all, he intended to murder the bastard upstairs. A quick plunge of Atlas’s knife should do the trick. But this woman…

This woman…

Lily Gallo…

“I’ll run up with you,” Lily blurted. “I mean, I have to do it since we’re cuffed together, but I’ll throw my body against the door, too. With both of us, maybe we can break the lock or the wood or—or something. But we have to be ready for an attack after the door gives way.”

He would be ready.

He should have always been ready. The fact that the SOB had gotten the jump on him…

Fuck me. That never should have happened.

“You seem to be hesitating,” she noted, her voice a breath of sound.

Yeah, maybe he was. Because when he opened that door, Atlas didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t know how many enemies he might face or if he’d survive—if they would. “Sure as fuck seems a shame…” he muttered.

“What’s a shame?”

“To realize that I could die without tasting you.”

Silence. Stunned. Stark.

“Oh, no. You have one serious concussion, don’t you?” Lily fretted.

Probably. Didn’t change things. “I want to taste you.”

“You don’t know me,” she whispered. “Why would tasting me matter?”

Now laughter came from him. Dark laughter. Maybe a bit mocking. “Oh, Lily, I know you pretty well. Ever since you began calling me, pestering for an interview, I made it my mission to learn as much about you as I possibly could.” The darkness had closed tightly around them as they stood on those narrow stairs, their bodies sliding together.

“What do you think you know?” Lily asked.

“You’re the daughter of a serial killer.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Guilty.”

“A mind fucker of the highest caliber,” he said, not without a bit of admiration. Because Lily was quite the mind fucker. “A psychiatrist who loves to play with killers because you want to cut all of us apart and see what drives us.”

“Us?” A careful pause. “Are you calling yourself a killer?”

He was a killer.

“I’m not particularly interested in playing with anyone,” she said. “But I do want to know what makes us kill.” And there was the faintest emphasis on us.

“Are you a killer, Lily Gallo?”

Wood groaned overhead. Someone was up there. He needed to get his ass moving. Instead… “Fucking shame,” Atlas whispered. He wanted her mouth. “Dreamed about you.”

“You did not.”

Oh, but he had. And he didn’t typically have dreams about anyone. Nightmares? Sure, he had plenty of those. Sweet dreams were something entirely different. Entirely special. “One taste before dying. Surely that’s not too much to ask.” What in the world was he doing? He needed to be getting them the hell out of there. Not…not…

“We’re not dying. And you get us out of here—both of us—and I’ll give you the best kiss of your life.”

Well, that was some mighty fine motivation.

The overhead creaking came again. Dust drifted down on them. Dust or dirt or who the hell knew what it was.

“You know what? Scratch that,” Lily decided. “I don’t want terror to be the last thing I feel.” Her cuffed hand rose. He felt the metal slide against him. “Kiss me. Now.”

His mouth lowered. It was so dark he couldn’t find her, not clearly, and⁠—

A long groan, followed by the creak of…hinges? The door was opening. Light spilled inside. A small beam.

Her breath caught.

He hadn’t tasted her. There was no time. “Now,” he snarled to her, voice guttural, and then he was lunging up those steps, with Lily pressed tightly to him. Their feet pounded on the stairs, and he grabbed the door and thrust it open fully even as he roared and shot out of that darkness and launched right at the bastard that he would be sending to hell.

Atlas’s knife flashed as he drove it toward his prey.

And a scream echoed in his ears.

Lily’s scream.