Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)



It was raining outside the diner, the water falling in sheets from the night sky. Reagan was sitting in a booth, counting out her tips as she waited for the downpour to lessen, at least enough to where she could get home without being totally soaked through by the time she got there. And though she had spent the entirety of the night smiling at customers, making sure everyone was pleased, she was tired and ready to get home.

Six months…

That was how long it had been since Reagan had last seen him, a night when he’d just disappeared without a word. Oh, how excited she had been when she had gone to work that next day, expecting to see him enter any moment. When he hadn’t, she didn’t think much of it, but after the second—and third, and fourth, and fifth—she had realized with a startling clarity that he must have left and gone back to wherever it was he came from.

She didn’t mean to be upset. He had only ever offered her one thing, and she had gladly accepted it—begged for it at least a couple of times if she remembered correctly. Once he was gone—and she accepted he wasn’t coming back—she still ached at the thought.

But nevertheless, after five months of trying, she had finally put him, and everything they’d done together, to the back of her mind and kept it there.

Since he had walked away, a lot had changed for her. Her father had stopped drinking, her mother was less dependent on him, and she was finally able to start saving towards her dream, the same dream she had shared with Niklaus that last night. Picking up more hours at the diner was exhausting, but in the end, she knew it would be worth it.

Yeah, Niklaus was the last thing on her mind…until he wasn’t.

Another long afternoon of shoes had the air muggy as Reagan exited the diner, fiddling with her umbrella, not paying attention to her surroundings. If she were, she might have noticed Niklaus’ slow, but steady approach.

“Here, let me get that.”

Her head snapped up as she heard his voice, too surprised to do anything more than stare at him as he deftly got the button unfastened, and the umbrella open, holding it out for her.

He seemed immune to the rain, standing beneath the awning with his leather jacket on, a hoodie beneath it with the hood partially concealing his hair. He looked good—though that wasn’t very hard—though he did look a bit tired.

“What are you doing here?” She wondered if the bitterness she felt inside could be heard in her words.

Judging from the expression on his face, the answer was yes. “Was in the neighborhood.”

Considering she practically knew everybody around here, or knew someone who did, she doubted she would have missed hearing about him being back. The families around here had a habit of subtly announcing if there was someone new around.

Not knowing what else to say, and strangely hurt by his words, Reagan said, “Diner is still open.”

She tore her eyes from him, determined not to show him just how much his presence affected her—she wouldn’t give him that too. Instead, she turned her back, ready to brave the rain to get home as opposed to taking a cab, anything to get away from him sooner.

But if she thought he was just going to let her walk away, she was wrong.

While she refused to turn back, she could hear him trailing her. “Is there a reason you’re following me?”

“I’m walking you home.”

“I can take care of myself, Niklaus.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Was that humor in his voice?

“So why bother?”

“You’re worth the effort.”

Turning abruptly, Reagan frowned at him, trying hard not to notice the way the water droplets clung to his skin. “Really? Why don’t I believe you when you say that?”

Finally closing the distance between them, he asked, “Want me to show you?”

Reagan shook her head, leveling her gaze on him. “No, prove it.”

Before she could even fathom what he was doing, he had ahold of her arm, dragging her into the side alley between two buildings they were passing. She couldn’t even utter a protest before he was sliding one hand around her neck and tugging her closer, pressing his lips to hers.

Any protest she thought to have, died a sudden death as he claimed her mouth, not giving her a chance to resist. Her back hit the damp brick wall, cold seeping through the thin cotton of her uniform, sending a chill through her.

As quickly as he silenced her with a kiss, he dragged his lips across her jaw and down her neck, biting down just enough to keep her aware of what he was doing.

His hands diving beneath her skirt, he tugged her stockings and panties down her legs, just far enough that he could get his hand down between her legs. When he had his thumb circling her clit, her head fell back, her hands squeezing at the material of his jacket.

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