Coming Undone Read Online Free PDF Page A

bedroom, so defeated and humiliated, he’d run. When they saw each other again, RJ was working for Salim as a bodyguard and Stella was in the bastard’s bed. She hadn’t said the words, but he’d seen it in her eyes. His payback. Sleeping with his boss right under RJ’s nose was his payback for leaving her alone all those years ago. When he’d tried to get Salim to leave her alone, RJ found himself in an Irish prison, unable to do anything. Now he was back and Stella was nowhere to be found.
    Pain lanced through his skull, and he groaned, grasping his head in both hands. Nothing would stop him from getting answers. That was the goal, answers. The old man deserved to know what happened to his only daughter, and RJ needed to do his penance, but only after he got answers.
    McKenna Lacey had answers and he’d get them.
    ****
    Sunrise the next morning found him camped out inside the tiny coffee shop three doors down from McKenna’s place on the opposite side of the street. He sat at a small, round metal table with two chairs, nursing a cup of peppermint tea, his gaze on McKenna’s front door.
    Carter had grumbled when RJ stumbled downstairs with the intent of shadowing Salim’s bedmate all day, but RJ reminded his little brother of what exactly they had at stake. Carter kept his trap shut after that. RJ had no intentions of missing anything, any clue from McKenna.
    She was a tough nut, but he’d dealt with much tougher.
    He sipped his brackish tea then grimaced. He needed more sugar, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off McKenna’s house for even a second. Patches. She’d called him Patches. RJ grinned at that. He knew he’d scared her, especially that last time when he’d broken in and watched her sleep, but she’d barely shown any outward sign.
    That woman had a hell of a poker face. She intrigued him. RJ could admit that. She was beautiful with that gorgeous dark skin and heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes flashed when she bantered with him, giving him hints at the fire in her. She was a fighter and the last time he’d seen her only cemented the idea that she was playing a role. She’d been so different than the first time. She’d played the weakling, the helpless little female then.
    He doubted she was any of that under the façade.
    She knew where her strength lay, in her body, her sexuality, and she used it well. Carter had a dozen or more pictures of her and Salim fucking in public. Parks, parking lots, bars. Anywhere.
    He wondered, for the hundredth time, what she had to hide that made her hitch her wagon to Salim’s star. At one time she’d been attending NYU, doing great if the transcripts he’d read were any indication. So again, why Salim? He was a good-looking guy, sure, with money to burn, but a woman like McKenna would know better.
    Or she should.
    A familiar black SUV drove past the coffee house window and pulled up in front of McKenna’s door. RJ sat up straight. Moments later, she appeared in her doorway, a colorful scarf wrapped around her neck and over her thick hair. Dark shades covered half her face and hid her eyes, matching perfectly with her black jacket. The tight jeans she wore were frayed at the knees, and tan boots came up to her calves.
    She descended the stairs, pulling on tanned gloves as she went.
    RJ got to his feet, flipping his hoodie over his head to hide his face. He stood in the coffee shop's doorway, face angled away, and as soon as the SUV pulled away from the curb with McKenna inside, he got inside the beat up Crown Vic he’d borrowed from the same African guy who’d rented him the warehouse. He followed the SUV, making sure he didn’t get too close, through downtown Brooklyn. They traveled via Atlantic Avenue all the way up to Weeksville before making the right and crossing over to Eastern Parkway.
    RJ frowned. Where the hell was she going so early in the morning? None of the possible answers made sense. The neighborhoods they passed were all low income. He