Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) (4 page)

You could have heard a pin drop in that vehicle as Shane drove off into the desert night, leaving the neon glow of Vegas in the rear view.

Then Sin had to break the weird silence. “Someone has a birthday in a couple of weeks!” Shane threw her an irritated glance, but smiled back at me in the rear view mirror. He wanted to irritate me. Asshole.

Great timing, Morgan. Remind me that I’m turning thirty.
Thirty
. Remind me that I’m a dancer when all I want to do is paint. Remind me that I’m tucking tail and running because some psycho thinks he’s in love with me, or I’m in love with him or some weird shit. Remind me that the cops won’t do anything to stop him because I had a misdemeanor under my belt and because I’m a “stripper”; an embarrassment that no one would miss if I showed up in a shallow desert grave. It wouldn’t even make the front page.

“Joy,” I replied sarcastically.

Shane glanced at me through the mirror. “You can rest, Brooklyn.”

“Thanks.” I snuggled my pillow against the window and let the vibrations of the road lull me to sleep.

I didn’t mean to break the door; I just wanted to shoulder it open. It always worked the other times I’d visited her. Watching her was the brightest part of my day, especially when she had a day off from the club.

She painted beautifully and was exquisite with a brush in her hands; her brows furrowed, wearing an oversized, paint-smeared white t-shirt. Sitting on my desk, I watched them. The police invaded her space.

And she was angry.

I couldn’t blame her. I wish the cameras I’d installed had audio, but the images were enough for now. Her facial expressions were priceless.

Crunching the popcorn with my teeth, I waited for her to see my gifts, to notice that I appreciated her artwork. And she did. Delicately, gently, she picked up the note that I left her and slid it into her purse. She looked at the rose that I left for her but didn’t pick it up to smell it. It had taken me twenty minutes to pick the perfect one. It was flawless, with no brown edges or spots. No thorns left behind. The leaves were proportional, shiny and dark green on the top. Three leaves on each stem. It was perfect, flawless…just like Brooklyn. But she was too angry with the police to even enjoy it.

She saw the empty spot on the wall after she’d finished packing. The police must have insisted that she leave. That upset me. I wanted her closer, not further away. But for Brooklyn, I would go anywhere. I could even visit her at Shane and Morgan’s. Maybe we could all be friends and go out together.

At least I knew where they lived. I’d let her get settled in at their house tonight. Brooklyn needed to sleep. She’d been so restless lately, tossing and turning all night long. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would see her. When she stepped out of the door, I placed a kiss to three fingers and pressed them to my screen.
Tomorrow, Love.

Morgan nudged me awake when we arrived at her and Shane’s desert love palace. I joked about it, but it made me comfortable to be there. They were banging for a baby and I was cramping their style. I knew it. They knew it. It was awkward—at least for me. But it was safe and very temporary. Shane had a gate and a high-tech security system in place. It was like the Fort Knox of the southwest.

Shane had a spare bedroom that he used to keep locked, even from Morgan. It had been decorated for his sister, but when Autumn escaped Johnny and then rehab, she went home to live with their mom. I guessed I was staying in there, although my luggage was staying in the trunk tonight. Shane protested, but I told him I wouldn’t need it until tomorrow anyway. I grabbed my duffle and dragged my butt into the house behind Morgan. Making myself at home wasn’t hard. I knew where everything was, so I brushed my teeth and settled in for bed.

The lids of my eyes closed and I nestled my head into the soft pillow, reveling in the sateen sheets. And then… Bang, bang, bang…giggle…bang, bang, bang. The photo hanging on the wall above me even thumped, disturbed by the very loud lovemaking going on in the next room.

There were perks to living next to an elderly woman. It looked like I would have to sacrifice sleep in place of security for a few days, by the sounds of the wall-banging going on in the next room.

***

Shane trained the next day, giving me and Morg some girl time in the pool. It was nice. The sun was meltingly hot and the water was deliciously cool. She told me about the studio she was planning to open downtown someday. We swam and laid in the sun, and then swam some more.

Morgan grabbed a bottle of water and crashed onto the chaise next to mine. “I have a favor to ask,” she said, sipping from the bottle with a lecherous grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Spill it.”

“I’ve been offered an amazing opportunity, but I need some help.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

She grinned. “The kind that gets you noticed. A well-known gallery in New York has offered to display some of my photographs at the end of summer. Their commission is thirty percent, so I stand to gain a lot if I can sell any of the prints. Plus, it would get me one step closer to opening that gallery I’ve been droning on about.”

I jumped up and threw myself into her lap, knocking her water bottle to the ground. With my arms around her neck, I squealed and bounced. “I’m so proud of you! See?! Didn’t I tell you how amazing you are?”

She smiled and shoved me off her lap onto the chaise beside her. “My theme is, ‘Mood Swings.’ I want to showcase a woman’s moods and how she can be strong, but feminine and sexy at the same time. And I need a model…”

When she nudged my arm, I got it. “Me?”

She giggled. “Of course! And I would spring for the wardrobe, which you can keep, and for any expenses, like travel and that sort of thing. If the prints sell, you’ll get a percentage of those sales, too.”

“That would be amazing! But you know that for you, I’d do it for free.”

“I know, but I want to do this right. It’s only fair, and it’s what I would do for any other model.”

I hugged her again. She said we could get started soon, but that she might have to gather a few props. My mind whirred with the prop possibilities. A woman’s mood could be a dangerous thing, indeed.

Shane grilled steaks for dinner that evening and we sat in the warm evening air until I was too tired to hang out anymore. I just hoped I fell asleep before the evening festivities began.

***

A loud, shrill siren woke me. Bleary eyed, I blinked and tried to focus. The alarm clock on the end table stared back at me, its red numbers reading 4:03AM.

The door opened and Morgan burst into the room. “Get up!”

“What the hell is going on?”

I threw the covers back and crossed the room, grabbing her hand.

“Someone tried to break into the house. They somehow managed to disable the alarm on the gate, but they triggered the system when they tried the back door.”

My stomach dropped. “
He
followed me here?”

Morgan shook her head. “No.
He
couldn’t know where we are. Right?”

I swallowed, ashamed that I’d led
him
straight to her.

Shane appeared in the hallway. “You two okay?”

Morg nodded and he planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “Go to the room, okay?”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ll be fine. The police are on their way, but it’ll take a while.”

Morgan pursed her lips together. “Don’t go outside,” she ordered, pointing her finger at him.

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” Swatting her butt, he told us to get inside the room and stay there until he came for us.

I didn’t know what room he was talking about until she led me to what looked like a closet between the guest bedroom and their own. It wasn’t a closet, though. The door was a façade. It led to an intimidating steel enforced door that opened into a panic room.

“Holy shit, Morg. This is like in that movie!”

“What movie?” she asked.

I groaned, grabbing my forehead. “You’re kidding, right?
Panic Room
. Jodie Foster? God, I’m old.”

She giggled nervously, her eyes scanning the buttons and knobs. She looked toward the screen and then back at the controls. “The siren only comes on when the door is activated. Let’s see…” Pushing some buttons, a flat screen illuminated with six squares showing different rooms in the house. Shane, with his ball bat ready, was creeping through the living room.

“I don’t see anything. Do you see anything?” Morg asked, her eyes nervously scanning the images.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

And nothing
was
out of the ordinary. Shane flipped on light after light, securing each room. Nothing was amiss. The alarm probably scared the person off, or so we assumed. When all was well and the police officer pulled up to the gate, Shane came and got us out of the room.

One thing was for sure—this house had just become like my favorite bar. I’d worn out my welcome. I couldn’t go home, but I couldn’t stay there.