Love Bitten

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CHAPTER 1

Erica

WHY DID MARIE INSIST on driving like she was carting around Miss Daisy? Annoyed, Erica clenched her fists in her lap and stared at the speedometer from the passenger seat of her best friend’s car. “Can this thing go any faster?”

“It’s a bag of bolts!” Marie cried, motioning to her dashboard. “Any faster, and it’ll fall apart. Calm your tits, we’re almost there.”

Marie made a right turn toward the sleek high-rise building on 5^th Avenue that Erica’s soon-to-be ex-fiancé, Max, owned. Past midnight, the Financial District was light on cars and people. The fewer people she saw, the angrier she’d gotten.

That bastard said he was working late. And if he wasn’t at the office, she was going to wring Max’s neck.

It was their anniversary for goodness’ sake.

And to think, she’d been fretting over his well-being when he didn’t show up for dinner. She’d waited for two hours at a candle-lit table—thinking progressively worse thoughts. Maybe Max had gotten into an accident on his way home. Or worse—lay dead in the street someplace.

He should be so lucky.

Not five minutes after she called his brother Cav, worry pitted deep in her stomach, her phone beeped with a single message from Max.

Working Late.

Working late? Max was so full of hot air, she wondered how he didn’t burst. He was the one who’d begged her to cook for him in the first place. He said it would be like old times. Back when she’d serve him dinner in nothing but an apron, red lacy panties, and a pair of matching thigh-high stiletto boots. Heck, she’d even cooked his favorite plate—rare as hell steak with mashed potatoes. Not a green bean in sight.

The worst part? He didn’t even bother to call her to let her know he wasn’t coming.

If he’d been working, then why didn’t he answer any of her hundred phone calls?

You already know why.

Her shoulders slumped as her mind flitted through the string of messages she’d received from his ex-secretary two months ago, telling her that Max had been having an affair. With her. That, in fact, on all the nights he’d “worked late,” he’d had her spread-eagled across his desk. Erica’s breath quickened as the image of Max banging his secretary gained traction in her mind.

She’d confronted him, of course. According to him, his ex-secretary was on a revenge plot because he fired her. She’d been in such a fragile state she wasn’t sure what to believe. But when Cav, Max’s brother, filed a restraining order against her citing the same thing, she put the nagging unsettling feeling away and forced it from her mind.

Now, Max was working late. Again. And the nagging feeling was back. She folded her arms over her chest and fought tears.

Gosh, she was such an idiot.

“He’d better be at work,” she mumbled as her best friend, who sat silently in the driver’s seat beside her, turned up the street adjacent to Max’s company’s high-rise. “I swear, he’d better not be cheating on me. To think, he made me feel like I was crazy for even asking.”

“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” Marie shrugged, keeping her eyes meticulously on the road.

Wow, that was nice of her. Frick, Max was probably cheating. Marie would have never sided with Max. Ever. She hated his stinking guts for reasons she’d never explained. She’d only said he wasn’t worth her time. But Marie didn’t get to see the same side of Max that she had. He was loving and sweet and affectionate when he wasn’t stressed out about his company.

“What? It could be,” Marie said defensively, tucking her dark, almost midnight black, hair behind her ear.

She sighed instead of answering, watching Marie’s stacked piercings gleamed in the flickering street lights as they drove past.

She used to have her ears pierced like that. Until Max made her get rid of them. He said they no longer fit with their new image. Over the past year, not much she wore, said, or did fit with their new image. So, she’d changed herself for him. She’d given up so much for Max.

Marie continued softly. “All we know right now is that he’s working late.”

“What if he isn’t? What if he’s…” Her voice cracked, fear overshadowing her anger. “…with someone?”

“Then, we’ll kill him.” Her friend’s deadly serious tone made her want to smile. Only, it never made it to her lips. “But we don’t know anything yet.”

“I know he won’t answer my calls.”

To illustrate her point, she pulled out her phone and called Max again. Still, it rang out. Her previous hesitation, vanished. Anger bubbled inside of her. The coward wouldn’t even talk to her now. Well, that was too bad. She was going to be face to face with him soon. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her then.

The car came to a stop just around the corner from Max’s building. Before she could ask why they weren’t parked out front, Marie was already getting out of the car. Erica fumbled with her seat belt and scrambled after her. She should have been nervous, but too many glasses of wine at her non-existent anniversary dinner had forced out any good sense she had left. Every piece of her itched to get to Max’s despicable face.

When they turned the corner, she froze.

There, curbside, sat Max’s stupid gleaming black Mercedes. She deflated. Well, he wasn’t lying. He was working late. Marie was right, it was a misunderstanding.

“He’s here. Maybe we should…” Erica took a step backward, but a pair of headlights flashed behind them as a white SUV came to a stop beside them.

A woman with cherry red lips rolled her car window down. “Hey, excuse me. Do you know where the Shift International Building is?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the girl with blonde hair like her own give them an expectant stare. Maybe it was a coincidence. There were tons of other companies that leased space from Max. She could’ve been there for someone else.

She stood immobile, unable to think. Marie moved first.

“It’s right here.” Her friend pointed at the high-rise.

“Oh good! See, I told you we wouldn’t get lost,” the girl said to her passenger and swung the sleek SUV around and parked neatly in front of Max’s car.

She could only watch in morbid fascination as the two glamazons spilled out onto the sidewalk. The blonde wore a faux fur coat that barely covered her, and neither did the cherry-red skirt she wore underneath it. Her red-headed friend was dressed similar, in a short floral dress, that she tugged on as the autumn wind briskly blew around them.

“Look at you two all glammed up. Hot date?” Marie asked from beside her, her bartender training kicking in hard. She was all charm and easiness. At least one of them could remain friendly and press for the information they needed. She, on the other hand, was gaping like a fish.

“Yeah, I know the owner.” The blonde gave them a knowing wink, then turned to her friend. “I can’t wait for you to meet his brother. Can you say hawt!”

Erica nearly choked.

“Let’s go, it’s freezing out here,” the passenger said to the blonde, tucking her arm under her friend’s.

“Don’t let us keep you. You two have fun!” Marie said brightly, but as soon as the girls walked up to the after-hours button and pressed it with a buzz, her face flattened into a scowl. “Can you believe that asshole?”

“It might not be him.” The denial revved tenfold, but she couldn’t peel her eyes away. He had five brothers, two of which were partners in his commercial venture. They could be there for one of them. Even still, her fingers tightened into a fist as the two scantily clad women pressed the after-hours button a second time and waited for a response.

Please, let it be Ryrden or Cav. Please, let it be Ryrden or Cav.

“Who?” The speaker crackled at first, the word slightly mangled.

“Heather and Mel. We’re here for Cav.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief for only a second until the voice on the intercom became clearer.

“You’re right on time ladies.” That was Max’s voice. Not Cav’s or Ryrden’s. “Come on up.”

“Thank you, Max,” the girls said in unison.

Erica’s nails dug into her palms so hard, they almost bled. Anger coiled inside of her when the girls were buzzed into the building and the door closed them with a click. Puffs of air left her in streams like a raging bull in a cartoon. “That two-timing, rotten bastard.”

“Whoa there.” Marie tugged her back, but she resisted.

“Let me go, you said we could kill him.”

“Or…” Marie splayed her arms out to Max’s shiny black Mercedes like Vanna White showing a new letter. “We can kill it instead.”

That was the best idea of the night.

“Let’s.” She nodded in agreement and bounded over to the car and kicked it with the heel of her boot.

Loser. She kicked it again.

“Hey!” Marie called, holding her hands out to calm her down. “You’re going to break your ankle if you keep it up. Come on.”

Marie began to retreat to her car.

“Where are you going? You said we could kill his car.”

“Yeah, but not with our feet.” Marie smirked, leading her to where they’d parked around the corner. The rear passenger door let out a harsh screech that echoed across the street. Marie’s lithe body bent in half as she dug around on the floor. When she finally emerged, she held up a crinkled yoga mat.

“We’re going to beat his car with a yoga mat?” Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, then crinkled as she frowned.

“Of course not,” Marie unwrapped the bunched-up mat on the pavement. A well-worn metal bat rolled out onto the sidewalk with a clink.

“Why do you keep a bat in your car?” She looked at her strange friend.

“You mean you don’t have one?” She sputtered. “We work late nights at a bar for crying out loud. It’s for protection.”

“In a yoga mat?”

“Of course! No one expects for it to hit with a bang,” Marie pulled a second mat out of her car.

“Two?” Erica asked with a questioning look.

“Two is batting practice. One is assault with a deadly weapon,” Marie said, tossing it to her.

“You’re my soul mate.” Erica gave her friend a wry smile before turning back to the main street.

Her feet faltered as she looked at the shiny oil slick car under the street lights. She couldn’t take another step, like the car had a forcefield repelling her from it. Her liquid courage seemed spent. Erica’s heart pounded in her ears as she looked at Max’s precious car. It had meant so much to him. It was his ‘I made it’ car.

“I-I don’t think I can do this,” Erica stammered, her palms grew sweaty against the handle of the bat.

“Oh yes you can. You want revenge.” Marie nudged her forward, pointing her bat at the white SUV in front of Max’s car. “It’s your anniversary and this is who he’s spending it with. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Marie was right.

She’d spent so much time throwing herself into Max’s vanity projects like his brand-new Mercedes, his flashy new commercial building, and his fancy business dinners, where the wives and girlfriends only wanted to talk about their latest luxury vacations. She threw herself into Max’s dreams because all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. Even if that meant changing the way she dressed or what she ate.

Over the past year, she hardly recognized herself anymore. She’d become quieter and more reserved. And Max… Max had become less of the guy who brought her flowers just because and more of the jackass who worked late and spent their anniversary with the two bimbos upstairs. Her courage came back in full force.

Max didn’t deserve her.

“Come on Marie, let’s give this jackass what he deserves.”

“Let’s do this.” Her friend raised the bat over her head.

Let’s. Erica stared at the car, pictured Max’s face—his chiseled jaw, dark eyes, his perfect bone structure—and swung.

“I gave you everything!” The bat crashed down onto the hood with a thud, chipping his pretty little custom paint job. She felt light as air seeing the damage.

The car blipped, then the alarm went off. Its piercing wail threatened to split her ear drums. She didn’t care. Without a second thought, she swung the bat at the passenger side window. Flecks of glass shattered into pieces, falling into the car and onto the pavement.

“I loved you,” she said to his car as if it were him.

She swung the bat again, hitting the windshield with a hard thunk. Cracks splayed all over it like spiderwebs. She swung again. It folded in but it didn’t break. Marie took up the other side, and together they dropped the bats with all their might. This time, the window gave way.

Giddy, she giggled hysterically. Max was going to weep when he saw his precious baby. Right down to the very much dented, dumb as sin, red pinstripe he had detailed to outline the front hood. Only, when she looked for the telltale stripe, it wasn’t there.

Oh no.

“Marie, stop!” She rushed out as her friend shattered one of the headlights. “I don’t think this is—”

Her words were drowned out by a booming, “What the fuck are you doing!”

Dropping the bat, Erica spun toward the thundering voice. Two figures emerged from the building. She found herself face to face with a very beautiful, very intimidating, and very, very, furious face. His emerald eyes darkened as the bat nudged at her shoes, goading her to pick it back up. His face curled into a snarl as he took in the scene behind her.

Frick.

It was as if everyone at the same moment realized what they’d just done. She took an involuntary step back, looking from the tall man in front of her to the car they’d just destroyed.

“That’s my car!”

Marie gasped. “Oh God.”

She squeaked in agreement; her eyes wide with shock.

“Erica,” Marie called to her just as she locked eyes with the stranger’s vicious gaze. “Run!”

She tried, but her feet refused to move.

Author’s Note: This is a fun one, huh? Erica is in so much trouble.