Thunderstruck (Ramsey Security #1)

"Let's go before you change your mind."

Darla hesitates when I open the front door and enter the hallway. I have my phone and gun at the ready.

"I can see down the hallway," I tell her. "The elevator and fourth floor hallway are clear. The gym is empty. No one is getting the drop on us."

Even with my gun visible and seeing the view on the phone, Darla moves at a snail's pace to the elevator. Once we're inside, she looks ready to cry. I step in front of her and peek over my shoulder.

"If we need to run, make sure not to drop your licorice."

Darla stares at me horrified, blinks a few times, and then frowns. "I want a gun."

"Sure, that'll be our fun for tomorrow."

Darla tenses with the elevator dings and the door opens. I already know the hallway is clear because of the cameras we set up illegally all over the apartment and streets around the building.

Once we're in the gym, I close the shades and shove a machine in front of the door to ensure no one can enter. Darla settles onto the seat of an exercise bike and pulls out a piece of licorice.

"Can I watch TV?" she asks, eyeing the flat screen on the wall.

Stretching, I grunt in mock indignation. "Don't you want to watch me work out? I promise to give you a show."

Expecting her to shrink away, I'm startled when Darla tosses a piece of licorice at me. I snatch the candy an inch from my face. Her eyes light up in reaction to my quick reflexes. I give her a wink and toss the licorice in the nearby trash.

Feeling frisky, Darla throws another one at me. This shot goes wide, but I reach out and catch it. Smirking, I toss this one in the trash too.

I open my mouth to tease her for teasing me. Darla surprises me by throwing a handful of licorice. I grab a few, but most hit me in the face and chest.

Darla does something I never hoped to see on our excursion today. Her smile widens before she lets out a raspy laugh. The sound stirs something hot and needy inside me. Something I've never felt with any other woman, not even Minka at her very best. This new feeling becomes immediately addictive, and I crave to hear her laugh again. In fact, I want much more.

"Stop distracting me," I murmur, settling onto the weight machine.

"Then I want the TV."

For the next twenty minutes, I work with the weights while Darla watches TV. I catch her peeking at me. She peeks a lot actually, until she finally just focuses on me.

"Will you really get me a gun?"

"Sure," I say, pressing up against the weights. "I'll train you too."

"I used a rifle as a kid. I was pretty bad at it."

"Didn't have me as your instructor."

"We'll see."

"Are you sure you don't want to exercise?"

Darla frowns. "If God wanted me to work out, He'd have given me smaller boobs."

Her words sound casual as if she's said them plenty of times over her life. Yet Darla stiffens at the mention of her boobs. I give her a grin, which forces her to look away. She's feeling awkward now, and focuses on the TV. Darla doesn't speak while I keep working out. The silence follows us out of the gym and into the elevator.

I don't know what comes over me. Or maybe I do, but I don't want to believe I'm driven simply by lust. I only know I block Darla as soon as we're in the apartment.

Staring up at me, she isn't afraid. Not yet anyway.

"I'm a good guy," I whisper, staring at her lips. "But you're making me feel like a selfish motherfucker."

Darla's expression shifts immediately, and I nearly expect her to scream.

"I'm not making you do anything," she growls instead.

Stepping back, I frown at her frowning at me. We stare at each other for a moment before I laugh.

"I'm a good influence on you," I say, shaking off all of my need. "Look at how you put me in my place. Yep, I have a way of bringing out the best in people."

Darla doesn't move from the door while I walk into the kitchen. I feel her watching me before I hear her slinking from the front hall to the hallway near her bedroom. I expect her to flee, but she only watches me and waits for my next move.

I hate to disappoint her, but even I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore.





13


~~~

Darla

Breaking through the Darkness

Troy fascinates me. I want to know everything about him, yet I don't really want to share everything with him. Why can't I be a new person with no past? This question provides a glimpse into my messed up head.

For all those months with Locke, I struggled to remain Darla. Slowly, I lost the battle. The electric shock punishments made remembering hard enough physically. Mentally, I began to give up. Forgot Shelley and my grandparents. Forgot my personal tastes. Darla Birmingham was erased until I actually believed I was a dead woman named Rose.