Death Tango by M. Lachi

Author:M. Lachi
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955062749
Publisher: Running Wild Press

19

FIRED

SUNDAY NOV 17, 186 PCE

“One thought infinitely expressed.”

DIARY OF THE MAD GLEE

Rosa was surprised her name alone got her through the gates at Historic Central Park. With the city in disarray over the outbreak, she had no plans to return to her undoubtedly infected hotel. She needed safety. She needed a haven in which to stow away, and neither Kris nor Torian were responding to her texts. So, she turned to Oz Corp. She ached to resolve things with Paul and fought hard not to resent Dex for ghosting her. Dex was just doing his job: building up then tossing aside any woman Paul fancied.

Rosa pulled her hair into a ponytail, wearing a long-sleeved tee and jeans to keep any funny business at bay. She took umbrage as she rode the elevator with a mannerly attendant. Did she no longer qualify for star treatment?

Rosa rang the doorbell to Paul’s apartment and was again surprised to hear the door click open. She made her way through the elegant space, and before long she came upon the inlaid aquarium, the spot where she’d rejected him. She trembled at the memory. At his gnarling knot of dark rage. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to detect his approach empathically, she swiftly looked over her shoulder, the sudden bout of paranoia suggesting she leave, or at least wait out in the dining hall.

Rosa turned to exit, but as her tremors abated, she noticed clanking sounds behind a stray mote of light from a partially opened side-room doorway. Then came the destinesia: it was as if the time between hearing the clanks and standing directly before the side-room door hadn’t existed. She placed a hand at its hinge and lightly pressed to open.

She found a bright pristine bedroom bathed in striking green and blue foliage. The low hanging chandelier gave the room sublime shadow vines, and the plush open bed was like something out of a magazine. Though Rosa could have spent hours analyzing the majesty of the bedroom, its splendor paled in comparison to something far more majestic.

Paul Oscar. He stood at the center of the room bare-chested, wiping a pair of steel tongs, studying her meticulously. She gaped at the excruciating perfection of his physique. His statuesque arms. His expertly sculpted abs.

Rosa took two cautious steps forward and heard the door shut behind her. Then lock. Paul watched her, his eyes pinning her to the door. And there they stood, in an everlasting stare-down, each passing second adding mountains of gravity to the confrontation.

Paul broke the stillness. He discarded the tongs and took a few leisurely paces toward her, his dark Gordian Knot likely roiling just beneath the surface. He stepped up close. Rosa sucked in with a fierce shiver as Paul lifted a hand and cupped the jewel against her clavicle. Rosa felt her fists unclench, allowing herself to exhale through his light touch. She hadn’t realized until that moment how desperately she’d been aching to feel his charged fingertips against her skin. He studied the jewel for a second then brought his eyes to hers.

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