“Not even close.” My heart tears a wild path through my chest as I scramble to stand and pull back my fist to land another strike, all restraint shattered.

Every volatile emotion swirled into a chaotic vortex as his lips caressed mine, taking me to those dangerous, heightened cliffs where I fear losing control.

That can’t happen.

I breathe through the rush. Adrenaline scorches my veins like flame to fuel. My skin is heated and stretched too tight, an itch digging beneath my flesh.

As I step into the swing, Alex doesn’t allow me to get a hit in so easily this time. He expertly blocks my fist and slaps my forearm aside, leaving him a clear shot to my face.

He hesitates.

His eyes capture mine.

With a breathless curse, he moves in and grabs me around my waist. Arm banded around my back, he hitches my ass up onto the counter and forces his hips between my legs.

His cologne assaults my senses, that aquatic fragrance that reminds me of fresh river water. The warmth of his body heat touches every pulse point, making my nerves spark. I’m violent as I try to tear away from him, hating him, hating myself, for what’s happening to my body.

“Get the fuck away—” I nail a fisted hand against his shoulder.

“You keep coming at me.” He seizes my bruised hands and locks them between us. “Fuck, Blakely. I don’t want to hurt you.” His breath slices the air, those vibrant pale-blue eyes piercing me.

A manic laugh rises up from the base of my throat. “It’s a little late for that. The damage is done.” I shake my hair from my eyes, fixing him with a hard stare. “And now that you have a deranged killer threatening my life, I say there’s nothing left to do but tear each other apart. At least I can get my revenge before Grayson turns me into some insane trap.”

His features soften, understanding bleeding through the heated tension. “You forget who reached out to the psycho couple in the first place,” he says, accusation clear in his tone. “What did you tell Dr. Noble? It had to be good to have her patient this interested in us.”

Some of the fire within me dissipates. Obviously, what I told London made its way to Grayson. I didn’t realize this was a risk, or consider the consequence of Alex and me having to face off against a vigilante. Not until after London left my hotel suite. I realized only too late the two of them might be involved.

“Everything that’s happened after the moment you stuck a needle in my neck is on your head, Alex.” Righteous fury slits my gaze. I hope my eyes flay him.

His features draw tight. “I’m going to fix this.”

“You can’t fix this. You can’t even fix me. I killed a man,” I say harshly under my breath. “My brain is wrong. I’m wrong.” I shake my head, acceptance weakening my resolve.

His hands fall to my hips. “Tell me what happened.”

My eyes close against the flash of memory. I haven’t spoken in depth about that night to anyone, and Alex is the last person I want to confide in. But he’s the cause; he did this to my brain. If there’s a chance he can glean one vital peace of information that can undo what’s been done…

So I tell him about my mission to complete the Ericson job. About following Ericson to his apartment building. The cry for help I heard in the alley, and how it affected me, forced me down that dark passageway.

“He was strangling her,” I say, recalling the abuse I witnessed, how I feared Ericson would actually kill the woman. “And when her eyes met mine… I don’t know. I don’t remember all the details. One moment he came at me, then his back was turned.” I take a staggering breath. “I reached into my bag, then I was stabbing him. Blood all over my hands.”

I turn my face away, as if I can avoid the barrage of images assailing me. Alex touches my chin, gently coaxing my gaze on him. “It was self-defense, then.”

I jerk my head out of his hold. “No. I know that much. Something fractured inside my head. The rage I felt, I’d never experienced anything like it before. I was out of control.”

“And that terrified you the most,” he says, and I hate the way his eyes brim with understanding.

I sniff back the burning threat of furious tears, a mocking laugh falls free. “Yes. I fucking hate not being in control of my thoughts, my emotions, my actions. What the fuck else am I capable of?”

His hands fist the slim give of my jeans along my hips, tugging me closer to him. Heat pools between my thighs where his body touches mine, and I fight the urge to wrap my legs around him.

I’ve seen all shades of Alex before. The gullible nerd. The intelligent scientist. The insane mad scientist. The smoldering man fighting carnal need. The remorseful sinner he became when faced with his demons.

But I’ve never seen the darkness pit out his eyes the way it is now, reminding me of his room of clocks, a hollow void of blackness.

“Alex, what?” I demand. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ve given you no reason to trust me,” he says. At my impatient glare, he expels a breath. “The procedure didn’t change you. It can’t… Personality traits aren’t altered, just magnified.”

Cold trickles beneath my skin. “You’re saying I’m a killer. That’s just…who I am.”

He takes hold of my face, a mix of desperation and determination carved in his features. “We both know Ericson was deserving of that punishment. He probably deserved worse.”

Breath bated, I try not to move. “I wasn’t his judge,” I say, my voice devoid of conviction.

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip, eyes lit with raw hunger. “But you were his executioner,” he says. “You once said revenge was your ethos. It still is, just…magnified.”

Fear is a tidal wave crashing over me, pulling me so far below the surface I can’t catch my breath.

“You’re wrong. You’re so fucked up and wrong.” But even as I deny his words, my heart rate quickens, my pulse jumps in my veins. The numb cold is replaced with a rush of liquid fire to ignite my blood. A white-hot spike of adrenaline pours through me, almost intoxicating.

I experienced this very feeling while stalking Addisyn. The rightness of it, the same rush I always felt at the start of a job, the initial stage of the hunt.

As I struggle to free myself from Alex, he forces my arms above my head and pins both wrists to the mirror. My lungs fight for oxygen, my chest rising to push against the solid wall of his chest.

The brain cells that capture memory fire in rapid response. I recall the taste of our first kiss. Our first touch. What it felt like as he entered me on the cliff of the waterfall. The assault is overpowering, confusing my fight or flight response.

My skin crackles where he touches. Everything in me wants to rip his eyes out and punch his smug mouth. But something primal squirms in my belly and lower, tempting me to arch against him, the desire for friction to offset the needy hunger too strong.

It’s not just physical; it’s the yearning for closeness. All those lonely, sleepless nights where I clung to his shirt with some foreign need to be comforted.

“If I’m wrong, then we’re wrong. And I refuse to accept that,” he whispers over my lips, his eyes smoldering embers. “Goddamn, you’re all I think about, all I want.”

His mouth descends on mine, stealing my breath and the last of my fight.

The kiss isn’t soft and questioning; it’s all take and blaze, desperately trying to sate a sinister need that wants to devour us.

I’ve wanted to believe what I felt at the waterfall was a glitch. Some crossed wires in my brain along with survival instincts triggered an extreme response. That there’s no way in hell I could’ve been with Alex like that…felt all of those things for him any other way.

But just like a moment before, kissing Alex brings it all rushing back. My chest is on fire. The aching hunger to consume and be consumed too severe, and the pain borders on pleasure.