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Falcon's Prey: A Dark Romance Page 2


  Dr. Wozniak didn’t say anything more. We’d had this argument loads of times before. It was a moot point.

  “I’ll see you later, kiddo,” Sam told me.

  I turned my head as he gave my new guard an I’ll be watching you sign.

  When Dr. W was getting ready to put the needle in my arm, I turned around. I hated to watch the needle pierce my skin. It reminded me that no matter how thick my skin was, it was still easily ripped.

  “You know the drill,” my doctor mumbled, and then he left.

  I stood there for five minutes, my body soaking up the nutrients I was getting from my bag. The controller for the television was across the room, so I did what I’d always done and started to push people’s buttons.

  “Hey, new guy,” I called out.

  I didn’t turn to look at him but knew he was still standing in the same spot he had been earlier, right by the door. I had one of the penthouse suites in my building. The only escape was the elevator door.

  “Did you need something, Miss Remington?” he said in a hoarse, sexy voice.

  Even though the sound of his voice was a sex phone call jackpot, I could still hear his disdain for me.

  He didn’t like me.

  “The controller is right over there.” I smiled brightly at him and even helped him out by pointing to exactly where it was.

  His jaw got hard again, and his eyes looked like it was going to storm. They got dark and, frankly, a little scary, yet he did as I asked.

  “Thank you.” I took the controller from him. “Now take a seat. We have to lay down a few ground rules.”

  He gave me a tense nod and sat across from me. His legs spread, and looking at that did something funny to me. His elbows came to his knees, his undivided attention on me.

  “Speak,” he grunted.

  “Karen!” I shouted for my maid, and she came running.

  I didn’t know why she did that. I wasn’t a bitch to her.

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Can I have some oatmeal?”

  “Of course. I’ll have it ready for you shortly.”

  I dismissed her with a nod.

  “Do you get off on it?”

  “What?” I turned to look at Ren, and again, I found it hard to look him in the eye.

  “To have people cater to your every whim?”

  I smiled at him. “It actually takes me a bit to get off.”

  Ren gave me a disgusted look. “Listen, darling, I’m here to protect your body and nothing more. I’m not your maid. Next time you want something, get off your ass.”

  “Wow,” I said in amusement. “The help has jokes.” Then I got serious. “You are nothing. You got hired to protect me because, unlike you, I am somebody. So let this be the last time you speak to me like you and I are on the same level.”

  My headache was still there, and this asshole was making it worse. The damn bag in my hand was making its way through my system painfully slowly.

  “Don’t bite off the hand that feeds you.”

  He sneered at me. “Listen, diamond princess. Your daddy signs my checks, not you.”

  “Out. Of. My. Sight.”

  “With pleasure.” He rose to his feet and left me alone.

  For the first time, there was someone who didn’t drop to their knees for my so-called beauty.

  I got out of the living room like it was on fire. It was either that or blow this job before I even had a chance to start. This was on me—I’d wanted to take the job. I wanted more for myself for the first time in my life. I just didn’t know that more entailed her.

  Ember Remington.

  Her name was at the top of my file description. She wasn’t supposed to be my job, but the security guy had last night fucked up. I had stellar references and was a no-bullshit type of guy. Sam took one look at me and told me he had the perfect job for me. And here I thought that my long-term plans were coming together much quicker than I had expected. The universe must have laughed at me today.

  My first week was spent in what Sam liked to call “headquarters.” That was where the Remington offices were located. It was where they kept the vault. The Remingtons came from a long line of South African heirs to the diamond trade. Some of their familial ties were in their homeland, while others were in Rome, France, London, and New York. Michael Remington was a visionary and deviated from the norm. So far off the norm that he’d married a Mexican oil heiress. I’d researched the Remingtons, and there wasn’t much on Michael and Maria’s relationship. From the few paparazzi shots I’d found, they seemed like a happy couple.

  Maria Sofia Escalante was a beautiful woman who’d loved her husband. Too bad that love got her killed. There were complications during birth, and when it came down to a choice between her life or her daughter’s, Maria decided to save her daughter’s.

  This was the only public knowledge of Ember until after she went to college, where she pulled a little stunt and set a building on fire. Her dad did an interview and talked about how hard it was to raise a girl on his own. Honestly, I thought it was all bullshit; the girl could have used a good dose of discipline. I bet her father left her to her nannies, and he went away doing business as usual.

  So to go back to earlier today, I was not expecting to be standing around the penthouse and watching Ember Remington walking down the hall in a dress too small for her frame, looking like shit, yet at the same time completely alluring. She didn’t notice me, and that gave me the advantage of watching her. Sam obviously adored her; it was clear in the way he looked at her and talked about her, but also when he told me I had an important job.

  “You can’t keep all your treasures in one spot,” he’d said.

  Now here I was, babysitting a spoiled brat. This was not what I had signed up for at all. I was rounding the corner, trying to get to the control room to make myself familiar with the place, when the maid came out, holding a long black velvet box.

  “Hey,” I told her.

  She stopped and gave me a wry look. Looks of fear or contempt, I was used to. I wasn’t an approachable type of guy. I didn’t wear a smile on my face. I wanted people to stay out of my way, but I did have compassion, somewhat. Sometimes.

  Karen looked at me and gave a nod for me to keep going.

  “I’m sorry for the way she treats you.”

  “Miss Ember is hard as a diamond, sure, but the more you stare at her, you’ll see all the different angles, and all of them are beautiful because even a defective diamond still shines.”

  “If you say so,” I said as I kept walking to the control room.

  Once inside, I made myself familiar with the cameras. The whole place was covered, even her room, but the cameras went all around, leaving her bed hidden. I sat down on a chair and found the camera I was looking for. Ember was in the living room, the television was on, but she was texting, and she still had the IV in her arm.

  “Is she okay?” I had asked Sam before he left.

  Maybe, just maybe, the diamond princess had a reason to be mad at the world.

  “It’s a banana bag. It makes her hangover disappear.” He clapped my shoulder and left.

  Of course; rich people had the means to solve all their problems. Money gave you doctors at your beck and call, and with that, they didn’t have to suffer like the rest of us poor fuckers.

  Ember threw her phone aside and grabbed the black velvet box. I’d seen a lot of shit in my life. It came with the territory when you grew up in the system. You always bounced around from one place to the other. But I had never seen anything as I had right then.

  “Unfuckingbelievable.” I gave a humorless chuckle.

  The girl had a fucking glittery bong. Still, I watched with avid fascination as Ember took a hit, then threw her head back and closed her eyes as if she wanted the world to disappear.

  She was one fucking train wreck, and all of a sudden, it felt like I’d just walked myself on board the crazy train.

  Just then, my cell phone pinged with a text from Pam.


  Pam: So, how’d it go?

  Pam and I were old associates, you could say.

  Me: I’m in.

  Pam: Don’t fuck it up.

  Pam knew just like I did what it felt like to be the dirt beneath people’s shoes. We’d grown up together. Well, as together as two orphans could. We’d fought, lied, and bled our way out of the gutters.

  Me: I won’t.

  Ember Remington was just another stop to my endgame.

  “Daddy?” I called after my father.

  We were new in this city. Well, I was new. Since I could remember, we’d lived in my father’s country, until a few weeks ago when he’d packed us up and brought us to New York. I had yet to start school and make friends; I was lonely. My dad was all I had, and he was away more than he was home.

  “My little diamond.” He turned around and smiled at me.

  I was seven, but still, I knew his smile never reached his eyes.

  “Where are you going? It’s Sunday. I thought we were spending the day together?”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I have to take care of some business.”

  “Can I come?”

  My dad gave me another smile. To his credit, he looked remorseful.

  “Not today. But soon. I will be hiring new security for us, and then you can go out.”

  I can go out. Not we. Me and whoever took care of me.

  “Okay.” I gave a nod and started to turn around.

  “Love you, Ember.”

  “Love you too, Daddy,” I said without bothering to look back.

  As children, we do we love our parents unconditionally, even if they don’t deserve it.

  I woke up covered in sweat, despite the chilly weather in my apartment. I hated when memories came to me in my sleep. I was glad this was one of the better ones…if having a neglectful father was better.

  Dad had been in and out of my life since I’d moved out of the house. A text here and there, a random call, or a personal visit if I did something extremely scandalous. Earlier today, while I recovered from my hangover, I got a text from him. He wanted a family dinner. I had a sick feeling of dread because we weren’t the family dinner type of family. When we did get together, it was a business talk or to drop bombs.

  Since there was no way I was going back to sleep, I removed the covers, grabbed my robe, and went to the kitchen for a cup of water. The hallway was dark, and the only light came from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. I didn’t much mind the sun, but I preferred my curtains closed. Karen insisted on letting sunlight in, except in my room. No one dared to move my black curtains.

  I was used to the darkness; it didn’t scare me. Not even when I was a little girl. I would wander around at night with my dolls, not scared of monsters. Because some monsters thrived in the sun, so what was the point of being afraid of the dark?

  Grabbing a cup, I filled it with ice and pulled a water bottle out of the fridge. My bong was still on the couch where I had left it. I grabbed that too, then opened the sliding door that led to my terrace.

  The air was chilly, and my skin was still damp; it caused me to shiver. I threw my head back and closed my eyes.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Lazily, I turned my head and then opened my eyes. Ren Falcon was standing a few feet away from me in jeans that rode low on his hips, the top of his boxers peeking through, washboard abs that looked Photoshopped, a gun tucked into his waist, and a cold stare on his gorgeous face. Fuck me, he had a tattoo. A half sleeve that went from his elbow to his wrist. It was too dark, but I could see shading and swirls. For a second, I imagined his inked hand running over my naked body.

  He probably knew how to fuck like a god. Probably a selfish lover too. Definitely the latter—he looked like a selfish prick.

  “I’m sunbathing.” I rolled my eyes at him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “It looks to me like you’re reckless,” he spat at me.

  “I’m in the penthouse suite. No one is getting to me.” I dismissed his anger.

  It had taken him five minutes for him to make up his mind about me. Well, fuck him. Ignoring him, I started to put the ice cubes I’d brought into my bong, and I added some water. I was about to grab some bud when he stood right behind me. My heart accelerated, and my hands got clammy. He leaned over the sofa I was lying on and grabbed my face in his palms. Not rough, but with enough force that I couldn’t move. He turned my head so I could look across the street to the other building and did the same to my other side. We were surrounded by skyscrapers.

  “You’re rich, darling,” he said.

  “No, really? I hadn’t noticed,” I sassed.

  He ignored me and kept going. “The type of rich that requires a security team for you and your family. Now I don’t know about you, but I’d say with that comes with threats on a different scale than your average coked-out thug.”

  Ren let go of one side of my face and brought his other hand to grip my chin.

  “You see that building?” he asked as he pointed to it.

  I obviously saw the building. He turned his face toward me, his nose grazing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.

  “Someone could stand right there and blow your pretty little head off.”

  My heart thumped, and I was sure it had nothing to do with the imagery he provided.

  “Now that would suck for you, wouldn’t it? You’d be out of a job.” I tilted my head, making him lose his grip on me.

  Our gazes collided, and it became a stare-off to see who would give in first. My eyes traveled down to his neck and his chest. Someone was cold.

  “Get inside now,” he demanded. “It’s cold.”

  “If you’re so cold, maybe you should go in.” I reached for my black velvet box and grabbed my pick of weed for the night.

  Ren was still behind me, and he gave a dark chuckle once he got a good look at the contents of my box.

  “You have no regard for your life,” he stated.

  Ren did not leave; he walked around, making sure it was safe, then took a seat across from me. I pretended he wasn’t there while I broke down my bud and packed it.

  “Jesus,” he muttered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t need glitz to get high?”

  I held up my bong, admiring the handiwork the people at Remington Diamonds had done. “It’s made out of crystal and our most luxurious diamonds.”

  Ren shook his head. “People are starving and you do some stupid shit like this?”

  I heard the disgust in his voice.

  “Am I not allowed to have things that make me happy?” I said.

  He didn’t need to know about the charities I gave to. That was none of his concern.

  Placing the head of the bong to my lips, I lit the bowl and took a hit.

  The thick smoke instantly relaxed me. I threw my head back, closed my eyes, then released the smoke into the starless night. I liked sitting outside, amidst all these buildings.

  “Great, now that you’re high, can you go back to bed?” Ren got up.

  I untucked my feet from my Indian-style seated position, and Ren looked at my bare legs.

  “You’re not wearing socks or even shoes.”

  “Neither are you,” I said.

  He took a step toward me.

  “What are you doing?” I put a hand up to stop him.

  “Listen up, darling. I’m here to protect you, and if that means that I have to fucking carry your ass inside because you were too stupid to wear shoes, then that’s me earning my money.”

  The weed must have gotten me high fast, because I burst out laughing. Maybe what he said wasn’t hilarious, but I found it funny.

  “Fuck, you’re high,” he muttered.

  “I’m fine,” I said and pushed past him. “We are not doing the whole Whitney Houston thing right now.”

  Ren was hot on my heels. I felt his presence behind me like a shadow.

  “Trust me, darl
ing, if it weren’t for the fact that I was getting paid to be here, I would never bother with the likes of you.”

  Ouch. That hurt. It picked at a wound that I’d had for a long time, but hell if I’d let him know.

  “Don’t worry, bodyguard,” I spat. “You’ll be out of a job soon enough.”

  I took a step to walk away, but Ren was there, grabbing my arm and forcing me to turn around to face him. He looked like a bull ready to strike. His face was easy to read. I didn’t know if he did have a poker face, or maybe he ran on anger, but I could understand him. Perhaps his emotions mirrored my own.

  The mint from his breath hit my nostrils, and it smelled intoxicating.

  “You trying to come up with a way to get me fired?” he asked, his face getting closer to mine.

  “Either that or I might get killed,” I replied, not giving much thought to my words.

  Ren swallowed, and he looked at my face, his blue eyes blazing with fire. He dropped his hold on me and walked away.

  “Asshole!” I yelled after him.

  I sat on the sofa with everything dark around me, lost in sweet oblivion. It was around five in the morning when I got a text.

  I miss you. I need you.

  Not wanting to deal with the emotions it made me feel, I grabbed my velvet box, took out a vial, and snorted part of my problems away.

  “What the fuck?!” I shrieked, the splash of cold water waking me up.

  Ren was beside me with a bottle of water in his hand. “Sorry, making sure you didn’t die on me.”

  I wiped the water off with my hand and glared at him. I grabbed my stuff and made my way to my room. I was bored, angry, and restless. It was Friday and I knew just where to go party. I went into my walk-in closet and picked an outfit for the day.

  I grabbed a ruby-red silk tank top that looked more like a sleeping undergarment and paired it with a black corduroy skirt and black high-heeled booties. My father had sent our new collection of diamonds a couple of days ago, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and showcase them as well.

  I was Daddy’s walking billboard, something I had made peace with a long time ago.

  There was a pendant, some rings, bracelets, bands, and a necklace, but like always, I went for my diamond choker. It used to be my mother’s, one of a kind. My father hated that I wore it, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had no mom; the least I could have was her necklace. Maybe my dad didn’t want me to wear it since I was the one who killed her.