He parked the car in the alley behind the simple three-bedroom tract house in the Desert Hills subdivision on the east side of Phoenix. Pulling on a pair of snug black leather gloves, he headed for the rear gate, opened it, and slipped into the backyard.
Lisa Shane was Tory’s best friend, the only close friend she had. Her father had left her mother when Tory was just a kid. She’d told him once that her old man had remarried and was living in Florida with a whole new family. He had severed his ties with her and she had severed hers with him. Her mother had died a few years before Damon had met her.
He took his time, made a cursory examination of the house but saw no sign of an alarm system. People were such fools.
Of course, it didn’t really matter. He’d been able to get past most digital alarms since he was in high school.
He took a set of lock picks out of his pocket. He’d been what the teachers had called a troubled teen. His parents were divorced. His dad had raised him and his dad was filthy rich.
As a teenager, Damon had more spending money than any other kid in school, but the adrenal rush he got from breaking into a house while the owner was in there sleeping, or beating up some itinerant on the sidewalk was a thrill he’d craved like a drug.
Over the years, it had taken more and more to get that kind of rush, but the high was a fire in his blood.
By the time he’d graduated college, his need had become so powerful he realized it was something beyond the realm of normal, something he would have to control.
It took some effort, but he had learned to do just that.
As an executive in his father’s real estate development company, he made a fat salary for doing a minimum of work, lived in a beautiful condo, and fucked pretty much any woman he wanted. He was good-looking and he could be charming, a talent he used to get what he wanted.
Until Tory, he’d kept his personal life separate from the secret life he led, but the little whore he had stupidly fallen for and planned to marry had managed to destroy his hard-earned control.
He could still remember how furious he’d been when he’d seen her getting out of another man’s car. That night he’d managed to tamp down his anger, letting only a little of it show. She was a cheating whore, he’d discovered, and sooner or later, he intended to make her pay.
Still, he enjoyed her in bed and he didn’t mind keeping her around. They’d only had one real argument—something about her wanting to go out with her girlfriends, which he had strictly forbidden.
Then came the night he’d caught her moving out of his house. As if he’d allow her to make that decision. His temper had finally snapped. He could still remember the rush he’d gotten when he’d dealt with the conniving little bitch. Hitting her, punishing her, watching her bleed made him feel like a king.
After accepting his ring, then cheating on him, she deserved everything he’d done to her that night. Everything he planned to do once he got his hands on her again. All he had to do was find her.
Damon put the lock picks to work, quickly opened the back door, and slipped silently into the house. Making his way quietly down the hall, he reached the master bedroom.
His dick throbbed at the sight of the pretty young woman in bed, the sheet pushed down to expose the top half of her body in a sheer lavender nightgown. Moonlight silvered her long, pale blond hair, and her lips were slightly parted.
He imagined what he could do with that pretty mouth and felt a fresh rush of heat. Moving farther into the room, he eased all the way up to the side of the bed. For a moment he just watched her, enjoying the rise and fall of her breasts, the shadow of her nipples beneath the lavender silk.
Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, reached out, and clamped a hand over her mouth. Lisa jolted wide awake and shot up in the bed, fighting and thrashing and trying to scream. His gloved hand muffled the sound.
Shoving her back down in the mattress, he used his body to pin her to the bed. He could feel her heart thumping, feel her soft breasts against his chest, feel her mound. It was really turning him on.
“Take it easy and I won’t hurt you.” She was trembling. It aroused him even more, and he started getting hard. “Keep quiet and I’ll move my hand. Okay?”
By now Lisa had seen his face. She recognized him and managed to nod. Her eyes were big and blue and wide with fear. Knowing he was the cause made his heart race almost as fast as hers. He eased his hand away.
“What . . . what do you want?”
He gave her one of his charming smiles. “Now is that any way to greet an old friend? It’s been months since we’ve seen each other.”
Some of her courage came back. “Get off me, Damon.” She struggled. He didn’t move.
“I want to know where Victoria is.”
Lisa shook her head. “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
He wrapped a hand around her throat and tightened his hold just a little. Lisa gasped in a breath.
“You know. She’s your best friend. Tell me where she is.”
She swallowed. He could feel the up-and-down movement beneath his hand and sexual heat slid through him.
“She . . . she calls me, but she never says where she is. That’s . . . that’s the truth. I really don’t know where to find her.”
“Where’s your phone?”
Barely able to move her head with his hand around her neck, she slid her eyes toward the nightstand. “Over there.”
He picked up the phone with his free hand, went to recent calls, and ran back through the list of dozens of phone calls, but there was no way to know which number belonged to Tory.
His fingers tightened around her throat and he jerked her into a sitting position. “Look through the numbers. Find the one that belongs to her.”
“You’re hurting . . . hurting me.” She tried to pry his fingers loose but he squeezed until she stopped.
“Behave yourself and I won’t hurt you. Find the number that belongs to Tory.”
“It’s . . . it’s always a disposable phone. She gets rid of it after she calls and buys . . . buys a new one.”
Fury made his hand shake. He tightened his grip until she gagged and started thrashing. Damon loosened his hold.
“How often does she call?”
“Every . . . every week or so.”
He couldn’t track Victoria’s phone the way he’d planned. But she would call her friend again. He would have to go to plan B. It was a lot more dangerous, but the rush was already working its way through his blood. He yanked Lisa to her feet. “Put on some clothes.”
“What? Why?”
He backhanded her across the face. “You don’t ask questions, you just do it.”
Tears sprang into her big blue eyes. She rubbed her cheek and glanced past him toward the door, but he blocked any chance of escape. She moved to the dresser, pulled out a bra, panties, jeans, and a yellow T-shirt, turned and started for the bathroom.
“Put them on in here.”
She shook her head. “No way. I’m not letting you watch me.”
He needed to be on his way. He’d humor her—this time. He tipped his head toward the bathroom door. “Go ahead.”
As soon as she went into the room and started to close the door, he caught up with her and shoved it open. No window inside, just glass blocks to let in light. “Hurry up.” Stepping back he allowed her to close the door.
Minutes passed. When she didn’t come out soon enough, his temper started to rise. He’d give her a little longer, then kick the door open and drag her out.
The knob turned and Lisa walked into the bedroom. In the moonlight, her face was nearly as pale as her silver-blond hair.
“Put on some shoes,” he said.
Eyeing the bedroom door, which he stood in front of, she sat on the edge of the mattress and put on her sneakers, then got up and faced him.
“I’m dressed, Damon. Now finish whatever you have planned and get out of my house.”
“Oh, I’m getting out.” A cold smile curved his lips. “The thing is, you’re coming with me.”