Blood & Rust (Lock & Key #4) by Cat Porter Read Free Book Online

Butler.”
    “Feeling’s mutual, little girl.”
    “I’m not a little girl!”
    “I’ve had high schoolers begging me to fuck them, honey. But you’re too damn uptight to take it on. Ice Queen.”
    I wanted to escape, run away, hide in the bowels of the earth.
    I snapped the fabric of my dress in place, smoothing it over my shaking body. “I hope you enjoy your exile up north.”
    “I’m a One-Eyed Jack,” he bit out. “It’s what we do best—survival, making do, carrying on.”
    “Well then, Mr. Jack, I hope you grow up while you’re at it.”
    “You’re never getting this chance again, so you know.”
    “Woe is me! You deserve what you got, you know that?”
    “Shut the fuck up!” He lunged toward me, his finger jabbing the air, his jaw sharp. “You don’t know nothing about it! Nothing about me!”
    “Oh, wait! You mean there’s a real human being underneath that blond mop and leather jacket?”
    “You deserve a smack for that, but I’m gonna be a gentleman here.”
    “A gentleman uses his mind, douchebag. You, however, think with your dick; that’s what you do. Doesn’t matter who or what gets in your way.”
    “We’re done here.” He rolled his shoulders. “Happy trails, Ice Queen. I hope I never lay eyes on you again.”
    His boots stomped out of the shed, the metal door swinging wide open and screeching on its hinges. I sank back down on the sofa, trembling. The cheering, the laughs, and the music in the distance grew louder, bolder, and only made me feel smaller.

TANIA TRACED CIRCLES WITH HER FORK in the puddle of chocolate sauce in her dish.
    She was remembering; I knew she was. I let out a heavy breath. So was I.
    I’d pretty much made myself forget about our fuck that had never happened. I’d slung it on the pile of my greatest hits of all time. Grace and Dig’s wedding was the last time Tania and I had seen each other—until I’d bumped into her and Grace in Nebraska three months ago.
    And here we were now, having a swell time together.
    Her shiny, long hair was a rich almost black color against her pale skin, and her dark eyes were huge and really expressive, almost startling. You could pick up a million different things she was trying to hide with every nuance and flick of those exotic eyes, and I was sure she didn’t miss much as those eyes swept over you, leaving a trail of steam behind. Tania was a little taller than average, slim, but that curvy ass I’d admired once upon a time filled out those tight dark jeans she was wearing over a nice long set of legs. A thin gold chain with a green quartz crystal on it slid over her pronounced collarbone. She was a heady mix of high-class elegance and down-to-earth casual.
    Chairs scraped against the pockmarked tiled floor of the small restaurant. Two elderly men settled in at the table next to ours, removing their jackets. I went back to my toast, and Tania continued to swirl her fork in her ice cream.
    “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Floyd, but I’ve got to do something. The taxes on that property are going to come in now and bite me in the ass. Sadie is gonna have my neck for not dealing with this crap sooner. There’s so much junk in that house. I swear to God, I’d rather just torch the whole damn thing and be done with it.”
    “Have a garage sale or something,” said Floyd, scanning the menu.
    “Ah, that takes a lot of work. I don’t know shit about that.”
    “Excuse me. I couldn’t help but overhear that you might have old things you’d like to sell?” Tania asked.
    My head snapped up. Those spellbinding eyes of hers were riveted on the two men at the next table. The guy and his pal Floyd only frowned at her.
    “My name is Tania.”
    “Dave,” the man mumbled, his eyes wide. Yep, spellbound.
    “Dave, I collect old used things, curiosities, heirlooms, furniture. Here’s my card.” She passed him a large-sized business card, and he took it. “I’m always looking for a variety of vintage items. If