Dark Mysteries Read Online Free PDF Page B

towel into the
garbage and reaching for the coffee put, smirking devilishly. “Did
you like what you saw?” he asked, watching her face twist into
a mask of mortification. He smiled wider, almost as if enjoying her
embarrassment. “Relax. I got to see you half naked last night.
You got to see me half naked this morning. We're even.”
    “I
wasn't half naked,” she objected, turning and flipping a piece
of french toast in the pan.
    “Alright,”
he said, pouring coffee into two cups, “a third naked. We're
not square then. Care to even it up?” he asked, his tone
amused, teasing.
    “Ha
ha,” she said, deadpan, shaking her head.
    She
seemed different in the morning, more calm. Collected. Efficient. She
had pulled her long hair into one of the bands she kept wrapped
around her wrists, making her profile seem younger. He looked down at
her cracking eggs into the bowl, seeing the wrist left naked. And saw
for the first time scars. White. Long healed. Some almost superficial
looking, small scratches. But there was one thick, bracelet-sized
band that wrapped around her wrist in a complete circle, slightly
thicker at one small spot. What the hell was that from? He looked up
to her face, not quite believing that she was the type who might have
cut in the past. And, from what he knew about it, no one actually cut
a complete circle. It was always lines. Across the wrist. Or up the
arm if they were serious about finality. But how else could she have
come by them?
    “I
hope you like your eggs scrambled,” she said, feeling his gaze
on her, shifting uncomfortably under it. “I always burn them
when I try to make them over easy.”
    “Any
way,” he said, turning away from her. “I'm not picky.”
He rarely ever had breakfast. It was usually just half a pot of
coffee and he was on his way. His stomach grumbled as if objecting to
the pattern. He looked back at her. “Did you sleep well?”
he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable in the silence.
    She
waved a spatula out to the side. “It was hard to find a
comfortable position with my ribs,” she admitted, shrugging a
dainty shoulder, “but well enough. Thanks for letting me stay
here,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.
    “Don't
mention it,” he said, moving the papers off of the card table.
    “So...
why couldn't you sleep?” she asked, pouring the eggs into a
greased pan.
    “I
don't sleep,” he grumbled, noticing his voice sounded surly and
coughed. “I had a case a few weeks ago that didn't go well.
Haven't been able to sleep well since,” he admitted, surprising
himself. But, god, it felt so good to say it.
    Ellie
stopped, midway through soaking a piece of bread in egg and glanced
at him, her blue eyes full of sympathy. “I'm sorry to hear
that. What was the case?” she asked, a part of her sensing he
needed to talk about it. Maybe because she had that same need. But
she had no one to talk to. No one she was willing to put in danger
like that.
    Xander
hung his head. “A stalker case,” he said, noticing she
jerked slightly and turned toward him. Expecting an explanation. He
took a deep breath. “It was the girlfriend to a big venture
capitalist. Someone at her work was stalking her. But she waited a
long time before contacting me. I got nowhere with it and then she
was kidnapped and held and tortured...”
    “Wait,”
Ellie broke in, quickly stirring the eggs and turning back around,
“that was in the papers,” she said, her brows drawing
together, trying to remember the article. “EM Corporation. The
CEO... Elliott something-or-other...”
    “Michaels,”
Xander supplied, knowing she was out of town and didn't know him. Not
like everyone in the city knew him. He was constantly snatching up
businesses and growing them, then selling them off. He heard that his
newest project was two brand new apartment buildings, one upscale and
one in one of the bad neighborhoods. Low income for single parents.
There was some speculation that it was a