Night Edge

NIGHT EDGE

(NIGHT FEVER SERIAL 4)

When you play with the devil, you’d better not turn your back.

Beau never intended to fall in love, but what was once his conquest has become his prize. Until he ends up in the same position he was ten years earlier—between Lola’s legs and begging to have her. So when she purposely disappears into thin air, leaving him empty-handed and alone, Beau is consumed with the need to find her.

As Lola gets farther from his reach, Beau is driven to the brink of insanity trying to get to her. When he finds himself at the ledge, he has to decide if he can let Lola go for good—or if he’s going to bring her down with him.

* * * * *

Night Edge
is book four in the erotic-romance
Night Fever
serial. Start the series with
Night Fever
. Reader discretion is advised.

Night Fever Serial
Reading Order:

Night Fever

Night Call

Midnight

Night Moves

Night Edge

* * * * *

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* * * * *

© 2015 Jessica Hawkins

www.jessicahawkins.net

Night Fever Serial
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Editing by
Elizabeth London Editing

Proofreading/2
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edit by
Tracy Seybold

Cover Design ©
LM Creations

Chapter One

Lola drove straight through the heart of night, her only company the stars and the Lotus Evora’s hum, which she preferred to the radio. Not even the moon showed its scarred face. She straddled her past and her future, unstuck but not quite free. She refused to think too hard of
him
until she was far enough away that she couldn’t turn back.

Her plan had played out even better than she’d thought, except that she’d expected to feel more vindicated by now. It was still early, though. Not even the sun had risen since she’d left Beau at Cat Shoppe, pacing out front, waiting for her to emerge. How long had it taken him to realize she never would?

When her fuel tank neared empty, she finally loosened her grip on the steering wheel and pulled off the freeway. She found a gas station and, once inside, did a quick scan of the building—a side effect from the time she’d walked in on Beau with a gun to his head.

The clerk stared openly at her chest. “Nice car.”

Lola closed the top button of her coat. She slapped cash on the counter, making him jump. “Pump five, a pack of Marlboros, a lighter and coffee.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He took the money.

Night fringed and frayed into dawn. She set the tank to fill and leaned against a wall to smoke. Her shiny, spotless new Lotus held two duffel bags—one had her personal things, and the other, stashed in the trunk, held what was left of her million dollars. All that money, right there, made her head swim. She tapped ash from her cigarette and glanced over her shoulder. The clerk was watching her through the window.

She was on her own now. With Johnny and Beau, she’d always had someone behind her. Tonight, her back was up against the wall, and everything she owned in the world was right in front of her. One twist of fate, one slip up, and she could lose it all. An accident. A thief.

Beau Olivier.

He would come after her, at least at first. She had to watch her every move—not even a footprint in the sand he could track. Because if he caught her, there was no telling what he’d do to her for this. For tricking him into loving her and making him a fool ten times greater than she had the first time.

Lola didn’t want to think about that. It was a happy night. She stubbed out her cigarette and got back in the car. She’d already scarfed her beef Pad Thai and steamed vegetables somewhere around Bakersfield. Gas and coffee would buy her a few more hours until she needed to crash. She debated going back in for a candy bar, but she wasn’t as far as she wanted to be yet, so she started the car instead.

She drove straight to the next biggest city. Night and day wrestled as the sun woke up over California. Lola put on her oversized, designer sunglasses, one of the few things left from her life with Beau, and relaxed back into her seat. As San Francisco’s skyline came into view, she thought—
so this is it. This is my freedom, my revenge.

She watched out the windshield as she passed the St. Regis hotel, glimpsing its swank interior through tall windows. Lola was flush now, but she was heading into an uncertain future. She had to be careful with what she had, and she’d already spent a good chunk on the Lotus, a gift to herself.

Motel 6 was more her speed anyway, and she’d already made a reservation. She’d be comfortable there. She paid for the room in cash and drove around back. After shutting off the car, she sat a minute, checking the parking lot and then all her mirrors.

Far as she could tell, no one was around. She got her things, popped the trunk for the bag of money and carried everything to the room. Inside, she went directly to the closet. Every Motel 6 was supposed to have a safe—but she slid open the door and found nothing.

The cash weighed heavily on her shoulder. Lola dropped it on the bed, picked up the phone and hit a button.

“Front desk,” a man answered.

“I need a new room. I’m in 103.”

“Is there an issue?”

“This one faces the parking lot.” Lola sniffed. She wasn’t about to advertise how badly she needed a safe. “I want to be near the pool.”

“Hang on.” The line went quiet a moment, and then he said, “Nothing open by the pool.”

“Maybe I should go somewhere else then.”

“Um…” His voice trailed off jaggedly, a froggy sound. “Want me to suggest another hotel in the area?”

Lola sighed. Threatening to take her business elsewhere didn’t quite have the same effect as when Beau did it. “No. Is there anything else available?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just not by the pool.”

“Whatever. Any other room is fine.”

Lola picked up the duffel again, put it back in her trunk and drove around to the front desk. She locked the car, exchanged the key and parked where she’d be able to see the Lotus from her window. This room had a safe, but it wasn’t big enough for her bag. She took out stacks of cash, fitting as much in as she possibly could and put the rest under the mattress. She’d also stuffed a small amount into the spare tire compartment of the car. Diversifying your wealth was important. Or so she’d heard.

When she’d gotten the rest of her things, she closed the blinds, bolted the door and crawled under the covers. Thanks to Beau, she’d developed quite the habit of going to bed
after
the sun came up.

Lola closed her eyes, exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. So much had gone down, but she didn’t want to think about any of it. She just wanted to sleep. Her immediate plan had been to get as far as she could in a small amount of time. Now, the whole country was open to her. She had no obligations—no other reservations or arrangements. She’d worry about that when she woke up, though.

Lola turned onto her side and pulled a pillow between her arms. Sleeping next to Beau had never been hard. He usually was out a few seconds after he closed his eyes, and then she could relax in his presence and enjoy the way he held her—protectively, like someone might try to take her in the middle of the night.

His waking moments, though—they’d given her some trouble. The past three weeks, Lola had tried not to think too hard about abandoning her plan and staying with Beau. The temptation had been too dangerous then. But what was the harm in it now?

Things had been far from perfect between them. Beau’d claimed to know her inside out, but he hadn’t even realized how empty her days had been. He’d bungled little things, like buying her a peach dress for the ballet when it was the last color she would’ve picked for herself. He’d fucked up the big things too, though, like thinking she could be content just to be by his side—no job, no life of her own. Just her, at his beck and call.

Lola sighed, hugging the pillow more tightly. The night they’d discussed her getting a job was one she remembered well. It’d almost been a turning point for them. If Beau had done and said all the right things, would she still be here now, sleeping without him?

Alone, in the darkened room, without a steel cage around her heart for the first time in weeks, she let herself go there.

Chapter Two

One week earlier

Lola didn’t look up from her plate when Beau entered the kitchen. He was late. She didn’t actually care—presuming he might miss dinner again, she’d eaten without him—but that wasn’t how a woman in love acted. So she’d made herself a new plate of food and read a magazine until the garage door rumbled open.

“I left work as soon as I could.” Beau loosened his tie and opened the refrigerator to grab a beer. In Beau’s world, that was as close to an apology as she was going to get.

“You said you’d be home three hours ago.” Lola stood, picked up his plate and walked over to him. She shoved it between them, steamed carrots rolling off onto the floor. “Is this how it’s going to be? After everything we went through, work’s always going to come before me?”

“No.” He took the plate from her and set it on the counter. “Of course not.”

“This isn’t what I signed up for.”

“And it’s not what you’re getting. You have no idea the day I’ve had. I’m not even hungry. All day, I just wanted to come home and,” he put his knuckle under her jaw, “and…kiss you.”

Lola parted her lips but turned her head away when he leaned in. The argument wasn’t over. Night after night, she sat by herself, waiting for him to come home. She hadn’t given up her comfortable life to live unhappily in second place. “You’re supposed to be making some changes.”

He guided her face back to his. “I know what I said, and I’m trying. There’s going to be an adjustment period, Lola. I can’t suddenly start leaving the office at five when I normally work twelve-hour days.” He touched his thumb to the corner of her mouth. “As much as I want to get home to you, I have to ease into this.”

“I know,” she said. He looked like he was going to kiss her. She salivated. Not every part of her could be schooled. “I just thought we’d get more time with each other. I’m used to having someone around. Johnny and I were together morning, noon and—”

“Don’t.” Beau pinned her with a look and dropped his hand. He inhaled through his nose. “Get mad at me if you want, but don’t bring him up. That’s the last fucking thing I want to hear after a long day.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Johnny was a weapon that never lost its potency. It had as much effect on Beau now as it had their first night together when he’d lost his cool and fucked her up against the hotel window. Lola shivered at the memory and slid her arms up around his neck. “Ready for that kiss?”

He hummed a noise of approval. She rose onto the balls of her feet, threading her fingers in his hair, bringing his lips down to hers.

“This right here,” he said, “may be the greatest threat to my work. How am I supposed to focus knowing you’re here waiting for me each night?”

“That’s all I want,” she whispered. She rested her forehead against his and opened a vein. It was necessary, sometimes, to tell the truth in order to draw him in. To feel the things she tried not to. “To be enough for you to leave work early.”

“You are. I’m not the kind of man who leaves work early, though, and you knew that. I love what I do, even more so now, because it enables me to give you what you want.”

“But…you’re what I want. Not clothing or parties or cars. I want time, and I want it with you.”

He pulled her closer by the small of her back so they were flush against each other. “You make an excellent case,” he whispered in her ear, as if someone might hear. “Let me make it up to you.”