I’m going to hell, and my angel’s about to lose her wings.
For years I’ve left a path of death and destruction wherever I go. I promise myself that after one last job I’ll have the money I desperately need to quit taking lives. That’s how I find myself back in my hometown of Lexington.
So beautiful and innocent, I unknowingly end up saving the life of the one girl I was supposed to keep silent…the one girl I was supposed to end.
She’s my fallen angel sent from above.
I can’t resist staining her pure white wings with my darkness when I use her. Defile her. Deceive her.
The two of us were both ruined by our pasts when they intersected. Pasts that we’re still trying to escape with the hounds of hell on our heels.
Fate brought us together. Now, I’ll do anything to protect my angel from the demons that haunt her. I won’t stop until I slay the devil himself to keep her safe, the man who ruined both of our lives.
The only problem is, my silent angel is keeping secrets from me – the biggest of which is that I’m not the only one who wants to exploit her.
WARNING: This book contains some dark, dirty and dangerous situations before ending in a jaw-dropping cliffhanger. The debauchery will continue in the second book in the series, Redeemed.
I casually walk around the cluttered racks and shelves of used junk, touching lamps and other random things occasionally, as if I’m just browsing and not intent on buying an illegal gun. I just keep wandering around until, what do you know, the shiny guns in the glass case just so happen to catch my eye. There are three choices, small, medium and large. I’m sure a gun enthusiast would know more about them like make or model, but to me, it’s just eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
Deciding on the large one so that I do this right the first time, I pull out the wad of cash I grabbed from my childhood piggy bank and start counting out the three hundred dollars required for my purchase based on the handwritten price tag. I lose count when the door buzzes, announcing another customer. Nosy, I glance over to see who it is.
My blood warms in my veins, sending a scalding blaze of heat from my scalp down to my toes at the mere sight of the tall man. Everything about him screams dangerous, from the thick chestnut-colored facial hair to his black leather jacket in summer and the cigarette billowing a cloud of smoke from between his two fingers. When he removes his dark sunglasses, it’s his lowered brow and deep set eyes that are the scariest. His cold gaze undresses me from my V-neck tee down to my open-toed platform sandals before he deems me lacking and quickly moves on to the used guitar display in the corner. But at least he actually saw me, if only for a few, brief seconds.
Lifting her off my bike, I stand her up next to it. Her legs are so wobbly she has to reach for the handlebar to hold herself upright. That’s fine, she won’t need to be standing for the next part.
“Get on your knees,” I order, and then I have to steel my features to hide my surprise when she obeys with no reluctance, kneeling right down on the uneven pavement. Her long, wavy butterscotch hair spills over her shoulders, throwing off streaks of gold in the sunlight, practically forming a halo.
My thrill-seeking angel is about to lose her wings.
Well, she may not lose her wings just yet, but those ivory feathers will definitely be stained. Darkened. And I wanna be the one who pluck every last one of them. Why is the idea of dirtying her up so f***ing hot?