Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5) Read online

  This is the second book in the BLACK SHADOWS duet, Cass and Calder’s story. You must read GOLD SHIMMER before reading STEEL RUSH.

  Cass has spent years trying to forget her past. But the thing about pasts…they always come back around, sometimes in the most unexpected ways. When Celeste goes missing, Cass discovers how intricately entangled her past and present are with Celeste’s, making it impossible to walk away.

  In an effort to ignore his own painful history, Calder challenges a corrupt, underground organization, but his mission gets sidelined when Cass’s life becomes endangered.

  The passion simmering between Calder and Cass tempts them to share their darkest secrets, but can their trust in each other help them unravel the mystery surrounding Celeste? Can they eliminate the threat to Cass before the past overshadows the present and destroys their intense connection?

  Note: STEEL RUSH is meant for readers 18+ due to mature content. This is the second book in the BLACK SHADOWS duet, Cass and Calder’s love story. The first book, GOLD SHIMMER, must be read before STEEL RUSH. The BLACK SHADOWS duet (books 4 and 5) can be read as a standalone story or as part of the IN THE SHADOWS series.

  Copyright 2016 by P.T. Michelle

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook cannot be re-sold or given away to others. No parts of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Interior formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs

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  The Past - Six Years Ago

  The small needle pierces the soft inside of my forearm, its sharp point moving so fast I can’t track it. As hundreds of stings flood my body at once, pushing black ink into the script on my skin, the discomfort feels necessary, cathartic even. I focus on the distracting buzzing of the tattoo machine, my lips twisting at the irony that I can’t seem to escape one last infliction of pain.

  “Finished,” Noah announces as he pats at the excess ink on my new tattoo. He glances down at the tree branch he’d painstakingly inked to cover the scars on both my wrists a year before, then eyes the detailed raven he’d inked on the branch on my left wrist. Raising a pierced eyebrow as he lifts the cloth away from my new tattoo, he says, “This one is so simple compared to the others.”

  The marred skin hidden under both wrists’ branch tattoos tingles and itches like it always does when my emotions are especially revved. Getting this tattoo certainly qualifies as a heightened moment. I skim my gaze over the single word Never he just completed, loving the fancy script with trailing lines before and after the word.

  Noah is the first person I called once the deep cut I’d inflicted on my wrist during a frantic relapse had fully healed.

  My cutting days are over. And I will never allow Jake Hemming to touch me ever again. The first is a promise to my big sister, Sophie, who left this world way before her time, and the second is to myself. Both are vows I never plan to break.

  I meet the curious sympathy in Noah’s crystal blue gaze. From that first day I laid eyes on his nude form in Freshman Art 101, I saw past the twenty-two-year-old model’s floppy pitch black hair and gorgeous tattooed body and knew he modeled in the buff for more than money and potential dates. This guy ran deeper than his teasing smile; he appreciated art’s simplest form, which meant he’d get my answer. “Sometimes a single word can carry the most meaning, Noah. So…thanks.”

  Barking out a laugh, he kisses my forehead as he rises from his stool. “Anytime, sweet Cass.”

  Present Day

  I just lied my ass off. To the police. I bite my lip and watch the detectives drive away from the Carver’s estate, my heart racing. What have I done?

  The Carver’s family lawyer and neighbor, Phillip Hemming, talks to Celeste’s father in a low tone for a minute, then walks home. My fingers twitch with the need to scratch my itching wrists as I follow Celeste’s younger sister, Beth, and her father into their home.

  I’m torn on what I should do. When I agreed to switch places with Celeste for an evening, I never could have anticipated that she wouldn’t return on time. I certainly didn’t know enough yet to admit to the police that I’m not Celeste. Right now, saying anything could cause a scandal that might potentially destroy her father’s run for Senate. Considering protecting Gregory Carver’s career was the whole reason she asked me to do this, I held my silence when the police asked why they found Celeste’s ID in a bloody abandoned car.

  For all I knew the blood and ID had nothing to do with her. Before she left, Celeste gave me her real ID, so the ID the police discovered in that car must’ve been a fake, which makes me question who the car and blood belong to. Not that any of this craziness answers why I still haven’t heard from Celeste. The only explanation that makes sense is that she realized she’d arrive home too late to try to slip back into her life without being noticed, so she decided to wait until tomorrow. It is almost two in the morning. I just wish I knew why she didn’t text me her change in plans. Her lack of communication is making my stomach burn with conflict.

  “This is the last thing I need right now, Celeste.” Gregory rounds on me in the foyer the moment he closes the door behind us, his terse tone interrupting the tug-of-war going on in my head.

  “I know, Father. I’m sorry to worry you.”

  Tilting his silver head, he narrows his gaze. “How did your ID get in that car?”

  I raise my hands, truly mystified. “I have no idea.”

  “Someone must’ve lifted it at the club before we got separated earlier tonight,” Beth quickly jumps in. I meet her wide-eyed green gaze over Gregory’s shoulder. Apparently she had already spun her own version of our earlier whereabouts to her father and the police before my cab pulled up.

  I’m pretty sure Beth wouldn’t confess to her father that she had actually taken me to an exclusive underground MMA championship fight. One that got disbanded midway through due to the threat of imminent police intervention. And by the pleading look in her eyes right now, her father is clearly unaware that his youngest daughter is dating one of the guys responsible for organizing and running said illegal event.

  Two brushes with law enforcement in one night is more than I signed up for when I agreed to this deal with Celeste. Now that the police are gone, a part of me feels I should tell Celeste’s family the truth about my identity. But if I speak up too soon, I could blow everything for Celeste. She was adamant that no one could know about me. I can see her thinking that me telling her family the truth, even under these strained circumstances, would be a failure on my part to hold up my end of the deal. I can’t allow her to back out of her promise to help my father get his business development plan approved by the city.

  God, this is one big screwed up mess with no right answer. It’s not like I have a manual to follow on doppelganger switch-a-roos. Why didn’t I stay in bed with Calder like he asked me to?

  “Is the club where you think you lost it?” Gregory prods, pulling my focus back to immediate issues.

  I slowly nod my agreement with Beth’s story version, while telling myself that Celeste will text me in the morning. It had better be first thing. I can’t wait to shed her royally messed up family like an overpriced, ill-fitting sweater.

  Exhaling an annoyed grunt, Gregory gestures to Marco
and Anthony, who’ve been lurking in the hallway. “And you two, keep up with my daughters like you’re supposed to or you’ll be replaced. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” both security guards mumble. Glancing at Beth, her guard, Anthony, blows out a tired sigh and shakes his sandy-blond head. Celeste’s guard, Marco, pulls his dark brows down in a death glare.

  Curling my hands into fists so I don’t flip Marco off, I follow Beth up the stairs and huff my agreement at her muttered comment. “Ugh, they’re seeing us to our rooms? Claustrophobia is already kicking in.”

  Just before we reach her room, Beth speaks in a low tone meant just for my ears. “Where did you go? I assumed after all the chaos at the fight that you cabbed it like you said you were going to. I’m glad you got my message and came home.”

  “I took your advice about the MMA fighter.”

  Beth lets out a surprised squeak, then drops her voice to a hushed whisper. “I meant pick one to be your guard, not hook up with him in some kind of revenge ‘fuck you’ to Father for announcing your engagement to Ben at the cocktail party.” She chuckles, then eyes me sideways. “You actually slept with Hammer?”

  I shake my head. “Not Hammer, Steel. We just kind of…hung out.”

  “Euphemism much?” Snorting, Beth steps close. “What does he look like? Is his face as hot as that gorgeous tattooed body?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I say. “He took the whole ‘no-taking-the-mask-off’ rule seriously.”

  It’s hard not to snicker at the look of dumbfounded surprise on Beth’s face, but I manage to keep my expression perfectly composed. I’m not going to say anything that could get Calder disqualified from the MMA rematch between Steel and Hammer. I would never jeopardize all the groundwork he’s laid in becoming Steel in the MMA world. I believe Beth is clueless about the illegal inner workings of the Elite Underground Club aka EUC that runs the MMA events, but I can’t take the chance she might expose Calder to her boyfriend. It’s the only way he’ll be able to bring the whole corrupt organization down.

  “Night, Beth. See you in the morning.”

  “Night,” she says softly, probably too tired from tonight’s drama to drill me for more details.

  My wrists feel like they’re on fire, the skin itching like mad as I stare at the phone’s text screen. Seven a.m. I’ve had two hours of sleep after finally succumbing to sheer exhaustion. I stayed awake as long as I could, hoping for a call from Celeste Carver. Rubbing my left wrist along my jeans, I sit up on Celeste’s bed and blink as I thumb to the “missed calls” screen.

  Nothing. Not a single call or text from her.

  When the phone suddenly buzzes in my hand with a text, my pulse rushes as I swipe it open. My heart quickly plummets when I see it’s from Beth and not Celeste.

  Beth: I can’t believe he kept his mask on. That’s so twisted, it’s hot.

  Me: My sex life is what you’re thinking about at seven in the morning?

  Beth: Ah, so you admit there was sex.

  Me: Nope.

  Beth: No, there was NO sex, or you’re not TELLING me?

  Normally I would continue stringing Beth along, but my heart’s just not in it. With no contact from Celeste in more than ten hours, the memory of lying to her family in the middle of the night burns in my stomach in the light of day. What is it about daylight that seems to strip you bare and reveal all your flaws? I squeeze the silent phone as if doing so will make it ring with news from Celeste, then finally respond to Beth.

  Me: Get a shower.

  Beth: Huh? It’s too early.

  Me: Just do it, please.

  Beth: Fine!

  As dread rolls through me, I walk into the bathroom, thankful Celeste had provided a small shower kit in the drawer with a new razor, soap, and toothbrush. Turning on the shower full blast, I shiver in the cool bathroom and realize why there’s a dual-sided fireplace shared between her bedroom and bath as I wait for the water to heat up. A hot shower is necessary to wake me up and give me the boost I’ll need.

  I can’t stay quiet any longer.

  “This is the early morning news edition,” a perky blonde woman with a wide smile reports behind the news desk as a red banner scrolls across the bottom of the TV screen. “Police have discovered an abandoned car on 495.”

  I lift the remote toward the TV, turning it up.

  “Blood was found in the vehicle along with a woman’s ID,” the woman continues in an ominous tone. “But the police aren’t releasing any details. If you have any information to share about this vehicle or the person seen driving it, call the WVTV news tip line listed in the red banner below.”

  “They’ve found you,” I say conversationally as I stare at Celeste’s jewelry laid out on the white towel covered in blood streaks: a pair of earrings, a bracelet and two rings. Mementos. While the newscaster drones on, an irritating pressure pushes against my chest.

  Regret.

  I don’t do regret. I don’t feel anything. It’s her fault I’m alone now. I squeeze the remote until the pressure in my chest eases. Setting it down on the desk, I pop open her wallet and run my fingers over the attractive picture on her gym ID card.

  Regret. Regret. Regret.

  The word hammers like a judge’s gavel in my head over and over.

  “You gave me no choice!” I rage at her smirking face and throw the wallet against the wall to stop the noise in my head. The expensive leather falls to the carpet with a soft thump, flopping open once more. What’s done can’t be undone. I stare down at Celeste’s smiling face and take several breaths before returning my gaze to the TV.

  “They’ve found you and they don’t even know it yet.”

  “What are you doing?” Beth tugs her hand from my grasp just outside her father’s office. Shaking her head at the closed door, she steps back. “Can’t you hear him in there talking business? We barely scraped by last night. I’m not stepping into the viper’s den. No thanks.”

  Just as she spins to walk away, I grip her arm. “This is more important than anything he could possibly be talking about in there. Trust me, Beth.”

  Beth shakes her head and pieces of her light brown hair fall from her hastily clipped bun, brushing the sides of her suddenly pale cheeks as she glances down in confusion at the book in my other hand. “Whatever it is, it can wait until his door is open.”

  Releasing her, I shift the book under my arm and quickly knock before she can argue more.

  At the same time the men’s voices suddenly quiet, I turn the knob and open the door.

  “Celeste—”

  I pretend not to hear the sharp warning in Gregory Carver’s tone as I step into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this can’t wait,” I say to Celeste’s father before I turn to Phillip, who’s sitting in a chair across from the desk, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face. “This is a private family matter. Would you mind if we had a moment alone with our father, please?”

  Phillip glances down and casually flips a piece of paper to the next one in the portfolio on his lap. “Now isn’t the time for theatrics, Celeste.”

  His condescending manner makes me want to roll my eyes, but before I can say anything, Gregory stands behind his desk. “Phillip is family and you will pay him the respect he’s due, Celeste. Apologize and don’t come back in here again until you’re called. This sudden obstinate streak of yours ends now. Am I understood?”

  “I tried to tell her…” Beth’s voice is quiet, but at least she followed me into the room.

  Resisting the urge to step back under Gregory’s hard glare, I curl my fingers around the edge of the book under my arm and speak to Beth. “Please shut the door. I don’t want to disturb your mother with this.”

  Giving me an odd look, Beth quickly shuts the door, mumbling, “This sounds ominous.”

  The moment the door clicks closed, the sound of Gregory’s fist slamming down on the desk makes my heart lurch. “That’s it! I’m glad your mother went to stay with her sister yesterday
so she doesn’t have to witness this utter lack of respect. You’ve just lost your credit cards. All your accounts will be frozen until you can act accordingly. No daughter of mine will completely disregard my authority—”

  “That’s because I’m not your daughter,” I say in a raised voice to be heard over his tirade.

  “That’s a line you don’t want to cross, Celeste. Maybe you should take a breath.” Phillip’s calm words overlay Gregory’s stunned grunt of silence and Beth’s quietly uttered, oh boy.

  I shake my head and keep my voice even. “This isn’t an act of defiance. I waited as long as I could, for a text or a call, but I can’t any longer.” Inhaling slowly through my nose, I hold Gregory’s gaze. “You need to call the police, Mr. Carver. I’m truly worried something has happened to your daughter.”

  “You’ve taken this charade far enough, young lady!” Gregory quickly finds his voice, his face red with outrage.

  “Stop antagonizing him, Celeste.”

  Celeste’s father and sister’s elevated voices don’t faze me. I expected their resistance, but the sudden suspicion in Phillip’s narrowed hazel gaze sends a chill of apprehension down my spine. I still don’t know who’s behind those threatening notes that showed up in Celeste’s text feed last night. I’m almost certain the source was a man, but one thing is for sure: Celeste had given the sender the codename Deceiver for a reason. The culprit could be a family member, a family friend, or even her security guard.

  Tamping down the tension coiling in my stomach, I put a hand on Beth’s shoulder and meet her worried gaze with a sincere one. “It’s the truth, Beth. I’m not Celeste.”

  She clamps a hand fiercely on mine and directs her anger at her father. “She’s doing this because you sprang that stupid engagement on her last night.”