Dark Mysteries Read Online Free

coworker. At a hotel,” he
suggested. He looked down at her, waiting for her to grab her wet
sweater and walk toward him. “If that is all...” he said.
    “No,”
she said, looking down at her hands. God.
    “No
what?”
    “No
that's not all,” she said. “I don't have any friends
here. All my Ids and cards are at my apartment. I have nowhere to
go.”
    Xander
looked at her, her lower lip tucked slightly in like she was used to
biting it but couldn't because it hurt. What was she getting at?
    Then
she looked up with her big, sad, scared eyes. “Can I stay
here?” she asked.

Three

    What?
Xander's head shot up and over to her. Stay with him? What the hell?
Who asked to stay at their private investigator's office? He watched
her, her face focused on her hands. Her thumb on her left hand was
worriedly poking at the cuticle on her other hand. She was still
drenched, still trembling slightly at the cold.
    She
was so small. And so scared. Could he really be the kind of beast to
throw her out on the street when she asked for sanctuary? Especially
knowing her stalker was of the violent variety. He wasn't going to
stop. And it wasn't like he seemed to have some twisted stalker
notion that they should be together and live happily ever after; he
seemed like he wanted to hurt her. Which was a little odd. But his
unpredictability truly meant danger for Ellie.
    And
if he turned her out with no place safe to go, what option did that
leave her but to go back to her apartment? And probably be beaten or
killed. He couldn't let that happen.
    “I
can sleep right there,” she said, squirming in her chair,
pointing to the worn leather sofa. Was he actually going to tell her
no? Was she going to be thrown out on the street? He looked
conflicted, leaning against the wall, a big hand running over his
jaw.
    The
silence drug on and she felt her hope fizzle away. It had been a long
shot. She knew that. But that didn't stop the disappointment from
rising from her belly, up her throat, making her feel like she was
choking on it. What other choices did she have? It was too soon to go
back to her apartment and find her stash of money, her pre-packed
'get out of dodge' suitcase with a few changes of clothes, basic
necessities, a new burner phone, and a few books. That was what she
had been living on for years.
    She
could move again. She had done it plenty before. She could try to
talk her landlord into bringing her up there under the pretense of a
busted pipe, grab her stuff, and get out. Grab the first train out of
the city. Run.
    Run.
Run. Run. That was all her life was about. Running. And she was tired
of it. She wanted to be able to stay put. Even if that meant staying
put on the couch of one dangerous looking man in one hellhole of a
neighborhood.
    Xander
sighed, watching her face. Hope was quickly replaced with
disappointment, a quick flash of fear, and finally... resignation?
Determination? Was she making a back-up plan? Whatever it was, he
couldn't imagine it being a good alternative to staying with him. At
least with him, no one would dare mess with her.
    “The
couch in the apartment is more comfortable,” he heard himself
saying as if from far away.
    Ellie's
face shot to his, her eyes wide, skeptical. Like maybe she thought
she misheard him. “I'm sorry... what?”
    Xander
turned to lock the front door, but found the lock already turned. Had
she went and locked the door when he wasn't looking? He shrugged off
the thought that was an unusually diligent behavior for someone who
should be in shock, and walked back to grab his coffee cup. “My
apartment,” he said, moving toward the hallway and waving a
hand out, “is through that door. It isn't much,” he said,
feeling almost self-conscious. What the hell was that? He had never
given his living space much thought before. And he had brought plenty
of women back there before without hesitation, “but the couch
is more comfortable than that leather one. And you'll be behind
another