Dark Mysteries Read Online Free PDF

laying position, ignoring the shooting in her side.
    “Doesn't
matter to me,” he said, waiting.
    She
paused for a moment. “I sleep better in the quiet,” she
said. Lies. She slept restlessly no matter what. But she had taken up
the habit of sleeping in silence a long time ago. As light a sleeper
as she had learned to be, any kind of noise would wake her up
immediately. Just in case it wasn't a car outside, or a passerby, or
the building settling. In case it was him.
    “Quiet
it is,” he said, putting down the remote.
    She
was silent for a long time, so long he had figured she had already
fallen asleep. But then suddenly, her voice quiet and sweet, she
asked, “Did you lock the door?”
    “No,”
he said. She didn't say anything further, but the silence felt
pregnant, expectant. He got up, rolling his eyes, and walked to the
door, locking it. Despite not needing to. Despite the fact that no
one in the neighborhood would dare to break in. Not the addicts. Not
the dealers. Not the gang members. No one. He could leave the door
wide open and the stash of cash in his desk would never get
disturbed. No one would dare. But she had had a hell of a night. And
she needed the comfort of a locked door. It would have been a stupid
thing to deny her.
    He
climbed in bed, knowing sleep wouldn't be coming, but going through
the motions anyway.

Four

    Ellie
woke up early, her mind too restless to sleep soundly. Xander was
sleeping, an arm draped over his face, on top of the sheets. She
tried not to look. She really did. But in the end, curiosity... and
maybe a little of the leftover sexual frustration, won out.
    He
was ridiculously good-looking. Built like a lumberjack, all thick
muscles under taut skin. Silently, she tip-toed closer, trying to get
a better look. There was an angry red scar leading from his hipbone
and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. She wondered, a
little bit embarrassed at herself, how far it went down. She knew his
line of work must have been dangerous and a part of her wanted to
know how he had gotten it. Chasing down some scumbag? Or was it from
a personal fight? Over a woman? Over money?
    Then
she noticed a scar higher up, above his collarbone and snaking
halfway around his throat. Pink still, like it wasn't as new as the
one down his side, but wasn't old either.
    What
led a man into a job like his? Was it passed down to him from his
father? Did he just happen upon it? Had it been an actual choice he
had made? She knew from the other private investigators that she had
made appointments with, that Xander Rhodes wasn't what you would
consider 'by the book'. He operated just under the radar of the law,
taking more liberties than he could if the license people ever found
out. Noses could be broken, asses kicked, less than legal spying and
digging around in someone's personal lives carried out.
    Had
he just been a brute as a teen? Blackmailing people for money? And
then a career grew from it?
    Xander
shifted in his sleep and she jumped, moving away from him and back to
the couch. She carefully folded the blanket and put the pillow on top
of it, placing them on the top of the back cushions. She moved into
the kitchen, quietly putting coffee on, and searching for something
to make for breakfast. In the fridge, she found eggs, an assortment
of yogurt, butter, milk, and six pack of beer. She grabbed the eggs
and butter and the loaf of half-stale bread off the counter, moving
around as soundlessly as possible.
    “Are
you cooking?” Xander asked from right behind her shoulder,
making her yelp and drop an egg onto the counter, she turned quickly,
instinctively, one hand curled into a fist at her side, the other on
her rapidly beating heart. “Didn't mean to scare you,” he
said, reaching for paper towels and wiping up the egg mess on the
counter.
    “Sorry,”
she said, trying to help him, but he brushed her away. “I
didn't mean to wake you up.”
    “I
wasn't sleeping,” he said, throwing the paper