Dangerous Intentions (His Agenda 2) Read online




  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

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  DANGEROUS INTENTIONS

  (His Agenda 2)

  By Dori Lavelle

  Dangerous Intentions (His Agenda 2)

  Copyright ©2015 by Dori Lavelle

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Art: Dori Lavelle

  Editor: Leah Wohl-Pollack and Samantha Gordon

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Book Description

  My name is Haley Macknight, and I’ve finally escaped my marriage from hell. But my husband, Jude Macknight, has murder on his mind. He will stop at nothing to get me back.

  Even from a distance, he’s controlling the course of my life. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me. Before he kills me.

  **WARNING: Due to sexual situations and dark adult content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18, and anyone who is unable to read books containing the following issues: kidnapping, murder, rape, and extreme abuse.**

  Chapter One

  Jude

  Jude slid the photo into the scarlet wooden frame and held it out in front of him. A grin split his face. Going for red was a damn good idea. It would stand out perfectly against the whitewashed wall.

  Unable to wipe the smile off his face, he approached the wall and hung the photo just inches from another one. He tipped his head to the side and observed the woman in the picture. She had gone by the name of Velvet. Not her real name, but quite fitting. She’d had skin to match. He’d almost felt bad for slicing into it. But he’d long ago learned not to bring emotions into his work. Emotions were magnets for mistakes.

  He had made one mistake with Velvet, but none that couldn’t be fixed. Her skin had gone gray and pasty before he took her photo. The pink in her cheeks had disappeared; her eyes were wide open in fright. Velvet had been a smart one. The look in her eyes had told him she knew he was interested in more than just fucking her. But she never could have guessed it was her life that interested him most. As soon as he took her, though, she forgot her fears and let him in—a professional all the way. Her emerald eyes, which were now blank and lifeless, had met Jude’s several times, pleading with him not to carry out whatever agenda occupied his mind. But Jude was a goal-oriented man. Nothing could stand in the way of him getting what he wanted.

  He sighed and surveyed the other photos. They would keep growing in number, until he got back what belonged to him.

  He turned away from his wall of victims and pressed a fist to his forehead. His eyes were closed, his heart flipping with rage at the thought of what Haley had done. Then his eyes snapped open and he pulled himself together. Focus was of utmost importance. He had work to do. The embalming needed to be done just right to ensure the corpse was well-preserved. Lucky for him, the son of a bitch who had called himself Jude’s father had done something right. He’d been a mortician by profession, and as a child, Jude had watched him with quiet concentration, learning until he himself had mastered the art. When Jude was a teenager, his father started asking him to assist him at the local funeral home where he worked.

  Jude hadn’t embalmed a body in years, not since his old man died. Time to return to his roots, put his knowledge to good use.

  With iron determination, he strode out of the room and went down to the basement to his newly renovated embalming room. He flicked on the light, stepped over to a rickety old table, and clicked open the hard plastic box on top. Polished tools lay next to one another, gleaming and ready for him. Everything he had needed he’d ordered online. He ran his fingertips over the surgical, structural, and embalming tools, and eyed the cosmetics. The ladies had to look good, even in death—maybe even better than they had looked in life.

  Why hadn’t he thought of preserving the bodies of his mother and wife after he’d killed them? It would have been a good idea to keep them as keepsakes too. Proof that no one betrayed Jude Macknight. On the other hand, the satisfaction he’d gotten from watching their skin fall off their flesh and maggots feast on their meat had been priceless.

  He fixed his eyes on the embalming fluid in a jar next to the toolbox as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. Then he reached for the bag that held his father’s surgical uniform and gloves.

  Once he was dressed and ready to get started, he strode over to Velvet, who already lay naked and waiting on the scrubbed stainless steel surgical table.

  Chapter Two

  Haley

  Dustin’s expression transformed from worried and angry to broken, the specks of gold in his chocolate eyes glinting. My confession had caught him off guard. But I couldn’t erase my words, couldn’t erase the past. The girl he had known and loved went missing a long time ago.

  I slipped my hands between my knees, pressing them together, and squeezed my eyes shut. Darkness was more inviting than his disappointed face. Not seeing him also gave me the confidence to continue. “My mother… she was also a—”

  “I know.” His words chipped, cracked, and broke before crashing down between us.

  My eyes fluttered open. “You do?” When we dated, I was so careful about keeping my family secrets away from him. He never even met my mother, was never invited to dinner at our home. The only thing he did know about her was that she was suffering from chronic heart disease.

  “Everybody knew. But Haley, you? You didn’t have to follow in her footsteps.”

  “My mother died not long after you left Serendipity for New York.”

  He touched my hand lightly. “I’m sorry. She didn’t get a transplant?”

  “She didn’t qualify for one.” I averted my gaze. “She left a lot of debts behind. She owed a lot of people. I tried.” The humiliation sent the blood pounding in my temples. “I couldn’t see any other way.”

  Dustin stood up and paced the luxury room of his jet. He jammed his hands into his pockets and turned around slowly. He came to stand in fr
ont of me. “You could have reached out to me, Haley. You knew how I felt about you.” His expression tightened. “I would have found a way. We would have found a way. You didn’t have to turn to prostitution.” He raked a hand through his hair and narrowed his eyes, his voice thick with pent-up emotion. “That’s why you cut off contact with me, wasn’t it? And there I was, thinking you didn’t love me anymore. You just cut me out of your life with no warning.”

  I shook my head, tears scattering across my cheeks and clinging to my eyelids. My head hit my chest as I attempted to hide my pain from him. “I did, Dustin. I loved you…so much.” I tipped my head back again and watched his distorted features through my tearful eyes. “I’m sorry. I was ashamed.”

  Dustin sighed. Then he reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Right now my priority is to protect you.”

  “Thank you.” I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, the one with the injured finger. The day before I left Jude, he had removed the splint he made for me. Though the finger was still stiff and a bit painful, it turned out it wasn’t broken, just sprained.

  Dustin reached out a hand and pulled me up and into his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder and wept with relief, so happy he was there. He smoothed my hair and whispered, “Shhhh… It will be all right. We’ll figure this out.”

  “I don’t know if it ever will be all right. I killed a man, Dustin. I never learned how to live with it.”

  His muscles contracted under his shirt. “But you’re not a murderer. I refuse to believe that. It had to be out of self-defense. It was, wasn’t it?” His voice was warm and hopeful.

  I pulled back and bit my bottom lip. “I’m not sure.” The last thing I wanted to do was dive back into the past, to dig up the painful memories. But I was dragging Dustin into my mess. He deserved to know everything.

  Chapter Three

  Haley

  Three years earlier

  It was meant to be a one-time solution. A few nights, a few bucks. Then I meant to walk away.

  A few nights turned into a month. And then it was too late. I lost my way back. No matter how many showers I took, the stains clung to my body and soul, refusing to be scrubbed away. I never went all the way, never had sex with any of the men, but still, I felt dirty.

  I slipped into a clinging sheath dress and brushed my black wig until it shone like burnished silk. Bruno would be pleased.

  He was my boss and the owner of Allure, a bar frequented by men with too much money. Only an exclusive few knew Allure was more than just a bar—the few who could afford its special services. While bartenders served drinks, Bruno Gallati served us women like caviar. Just as he had done with my mother before me. I did step into her shoes, after all, though they were shoes I never wanted to fill.

  I gazed into my chipped mirror and traced my lips with ruby lipstick, thinking back to the day Bruno had first approached me at my mother’s funeral. He’d been wearing a shiny gray suit. First he’d offered me his condolences and then a job as a prostitute. I still remembered the sting that shot over my palm when I slapped him.

  “Feisty,” he’d called me, flashing a golden tooth in his smug smile. “You’ll fit in just fine. I know a lot of men who would pay well for a piece of ass like yours.”

  I’d told him to fuck off, and thought I’d never see him again. Until the bills tumbled in and I was forced to sell the house and most of my possessions.

  I did every job I could think of to earn money and clear the rest of my mother’s debts. But the ends just refused to meet. The money I earned was only a drop in the bucket.

  Six months after telling Bruno to get lost, I stumbled upon his business card inside my purse. How he had slipped it in, I had no idea. Nor did I know how I had managed not to find it till now.

  It took another month of me resisting the urge. Then it happened. Swallowing the disgust I’d felt toward my mother when she’d fallen into the same trap, I showed up at Allure. Bruno’s face was utterly devoid of surprise.

  But I had rules. I agreed to stripping, lap- and pole-dancing, and nothing more. I undressed in front of my clients in a private room, and allowed them to touch me everywhere but between the legs. No licking, no sucking, no penetration. Many times I’d trembled with fear when I saw the looks of pure lust in their eyes, afraid they would force themselves on me. To my surprise, up until now, they had stuck to the rules. Bruno was not one to mess with. He’d almost cracked a client’s skull when he tried to bend the rules on Rosemarie, one of his girlfriends whom he also pimped out.

  A few weeks after I started working at Allure, Becca Pellugrosso, a gorgeous red-head who was turning tricks to pay her way through medical school, found me crying in the toilet. I opened up to her about my financial troubles. For thirty minutes, she sat with me on the floor and tried to convince me to let clients fuck me. She said I would earn more money in a week than I could ever earn in a month.

  The thought of sleeping with strange men caused me physical pain for several days. Serendipity was a small town. What would people think if they knew? I’d asked my mother the same question many times when she’d come home drunk and barely dressed.

  “Putting food on the table and clothes on your back is more important to me than pride,” she’d replied. “It’s more important to me than what people think.”

  In my case, I didn’t think people would actually think much, or care. Like mother, like daughter, they’d probably think, and look the other way. The people I’d gone to school with had all moved on to colleges and jobs that didn’t leave a bitter taste in their mouths and an ache in their stomachs. I was really only worried about one person then—the person whose name remained stamped on my heart.

  Dustin Brannon was the boy I’d happily and willingly offered my heart and virginity. He’d shown me not only how to love, but also how it felt to lose love. But as soon as I started working at Allure, I cut him out of my life. Though the cut was deep and painful, I reminded myself that I didn’t deserve him. How would I be able to justify my actions to him?

  I picked up my purse, switched off the light, and stepped out of my closet of an apartment in my fancy dress and heels. Tonight, I would go one step further. I would follow Becca’s advice. Bruno had informed me yesterday that my first sex client promised to shell out a lot of cash for time with me. I would be able to pay my rent for two months, with a bit left over for bills. Apparently the interested man had had his eye on me for quite some time.

  With the decision came a promise to myself. I’d do it for one week only, I’d gather enough money to carry me for a few months, and then I’d walk out of Allure for good. I’d find a job that didn’t destroy me, even if it paid less. It would be a challenge walking away from quick money, but I feared if I stayed longer than a week, I’d never leave. I’d lose myself and end up drinking to drown out my shame. Just like my mother.

  Chapter Four

  Cigarette smoke plugged my nostrils and made its way to my lungs. As I did every time I entered Allure, I gave in to a small coughing fit. Not meeting the lusting glances coming from around the dimly lit room, I passed the bar and walked to the back, where Bruno’s office and two bedrooms were. Jack, the barkeeper and a man of few words, nodded my way, and I gave him a tight smile before disappearing into the back door.

  In the stuffy corridor, I bumped into Becca, who was wreathed in smiles.

  “Congratulations on making the leap,” Becca shouted into my ear over the rock music that filtered to the back. “It’s not that bad.” She snapped her gum and winked. “Just close your eyes and imagine yourself writing a check to pay your bills.” She planted a kiss on my cheek and headed out the door. She wore a clinging gold dress that looked like it had been melted onto her body. It was sure to drive any man wild.

  Bruno opened his office door before I could knock. In the dim velvet light, I saw that a sheen of sweat had glued a lock of hair to his large forehead. The man was always sweating. He was also grinning from ear to ear, his d
ull, blue eyes twinkling at the thought of the dollars I’d earn him tonight. He wanted the money, and I needed it or I’d end up on the streets. My rent was three months overdue, and my landlord was threatening to throw me out if I didn’t pay up by morning. I had to do what needed to be done to keep a roof over my head. And Bruno could finally buy himself a new toupee—one that looked real.

  He rubbed his hands together vigorously, his cream suit wrinkling at the armpits from the movement. “Your client’s waiting in his car.” Strong peppermint wafted from his mouth, making my eyes water.

  I furrowed my brow. “His car? Why?”

  “He’s taking you to the Devine Resorts Hotel. He wants total privacy.”

  “I’d rather do it here. Can’t you convince him to change his mind?”

  Bruno’s expression grew hard. “The client’s comfort comes first.” He smiled again, not wanting to piss me off too much in case I changed my mind and he lost a lucrative client.

  I nodded, but my insides twisted with anxiety. Every time I was alone with a client at Allure, I was scared. But the small, airless bedrooms with their heavy velvet curtains were safer because Bruno was never too far away.

  “Go on, and do a damn good job. His name is Leon.” Bruno rubbed his sweaty hands together. “Don’t keep the client waiting. If you fuck this up, you’re out.”

  I turned my back to him and marched out.

  Outside, the night air was like crushed velvet on my skin; it smelled faintly of roses, the scent drifting on the wind from the yearly Rose Petal Festival taking place just fifteen minutes away at Serendipity Lake. Even from a distance, I heard the music and laughter of those happy people who had no problems—at least not ones that led them to sell themselves out of desperation.

  My gaze swept the empty street for the car, and I spotted it immediately: a black Porsche with the headlights on. A man stood leaning against it, smoking. A thin thread of smoke curled above his head and faded into the darkness.