Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

I’m
momentarily shocked by my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a
disaster, and I look like a raccoon with the mascara ringing my eyes.
I have to laugh at myself. A silent laugh that I’d dare let
anyone see me looking so wretched. Samuel always demanded I appear my
best, even insisting I attend to my beauty ritual before I came
downstairs to the kitchen for a morning cup of coffee. This meant
shower, shave, full-blown makeup, and artful hair designs, as well as
my designer clothing with the appropriate accessorized jewelry in
place. It was the only way I was allowed in his presence.
    I take a moment to
appreciate that I just sat through breakfast with Rand, probably
looking my worst, and yet not once did he even seem to notice. In
fact, several times when he gazed at me, I could see that look in his
eyes that he liked what he saw. I didn’t
miss the hard-on he was sporting either. I wanted to do something
about that, yet for some reason, it seemed important to Rand that I
not feel beholden, and it was equally as important to me that it not
feel like a job. He knew that about me even before I did, and I
appreciate it more than he’ll ever know.
    Sadly, my beauty
ritual takes an extraordinarily long time. While I think I have a
great body and amazing bone structure, it still takes a lot of work
to apply the perfect makeup and dry my thick hair before curling or
flat ironing it to get the crazy frizz out. By the time I’m
polished and groomed, stepping out of the bathroom in a mild cloud of
designer perfume Samuel gave me last Christmas, the apartment is
silent and empty but for me.
    My eyes drop to my
purse on the table, taking in the white note sitting on top. I grab
it and read, squinting and even stumbling over Rand’s
messy scrawl. I think it says:
    Cat,
    After you get a
copy of the will from the attorney, come see me at the shop, Westward
Ink. It’s
at the corner of Cache and Pearl. I want to see what it says.
    Rand
    Several things about
this note hit me at once.
    Rand works at a
tattoo shop? By the name alone, it could be a print shop, but I know
it’s a tattoo shop because I’ve
walked by it several times. It sits right in the heart of town, just
a few blocks off the main square. Whenever Samuel brought me to
Jackson so he could get his rocks off by watching me in The Silo, I’d
have plenty of free time in which I was desperate to escape the house
and proximity to his cold, leering eyes. So I wandered around Jackson
and came to know a great deal about all the shops here.
    I’m
having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. Does Rand run the
tattoo shop? Or does he just work there? And why? How come he doesn’t
work in the ski industry, which is absolutely booming around here in
the snow months?
    The other thing that
hits me—almost with a warm, tingly sensation in my belly—is
that he wants to see the will. That means his interest is deeper than
just letting me crash on his couch, and the warm, tingly sensation
flares a bit. I can’t
remember the last time someone took care of me or wanted to see me
safe and secure. In fact, outside of the initial illusions Samuel
gave me when we first got married—that he was my salvation,
ha!—there’s never been another person in my life who
worried about my welfare.
    I’m
inherently distrustful nowadays, especially after Samuel roped me
into a sham marriage and abused me in every way possible. This was
only fortified when I was kicked out of the Jackson home and turned
out in the street.
    It would be very
easy for me to suspect Rand’s
motivations, yet for the life of me, I can’t help but believe
he’s a genuine person. As such, after I visit the attorney, I
intend to visit him at his shop and let him read the will with me.

 

Chapter 3
     
    Rand
     
    I got into work
right at ten, which is what time the doors are supposed to open at
Westward Ink. I’m
not a tattoo artist. My reasons for working here are varied, in no
particular order, and really