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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

Soh could sense the realization dawning on his guest. “You were already moving against this man,” the hirsute giant said in a tone of offense.

Soh nodded. “It will serve our cause under any circumstances.”

“You deceived me.”

“Perhaps,” Soh agreed. “But in this case, that, too, was a service to our cause.”

SEVEN

Diamond O’Connell sat at the table in her father’s kitchen, staring at her hands. People had always remarked on her hands. Her fingers were long and delicate, her skin porcelain. When she was younger, people often assumed she was a pianist based on the grace with which she moved her fingers. Or maybe a dancer. She had such natural beauty and poise as a child, everyone always said she was destined for a brilliant career in some section of the entertainment industry.

Few made those assumptions anymore. Now, at nineteen, the tattoos started just above her wrists. Her hair, which had once been light when she was young, was dyed jet-black and cut in severe bangs that ended just beneath her eyebrows. Her clothes were dark and layered, and she wore heavy unlaced boots that came halfway up her calves.

Her beauty, though, was still undeniable. In some ways, her rejection of traditional fashion and makeup and other supposed hallmarks of attractiveness had made her more alluring. People saw strength in her nonconformity, and power in her refusal to bow to the expectations of others. And, she’d come to realize, men assumed her nontraditional appearance advertised promiscuity and a predilection toward sexual experimentation.

Men were idiots.

She’d always been willing to use that stupidity to her advantage. She’d been going to bars since before she could drive, and she couldn’t remember ever having to pay for a drink. Notwithstanding her willingness to accept drinks and dinners, though, she was selective with men. She chose only the worst.

It wasn’t deliberate—at least she didn’t think it was. It was probably genetic. Given her parents, that would certainly make sense. They had hardly been decent role models. Their relationship had lacked any of the traditional hallmarks of stability. No rings, no vows, not even any cohabitation that lasted more than a few nights. And yet they had spent years drawn to each other with a passion that approached violence, crashing into each other’s lives like two storms merging into one, wrecking anyone and anything that happened to have the misfortune of being nearby when the thunder and lightning really got going.

Diamond had spent her youth trying to stay in the eye of their storm.