Before He Lapses

BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)

BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)

BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)

BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)

BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)

BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)

BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)

BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)

BEFORE HE LONGS (Book #10)

BEFORE HE LAPSES (Book #11)

BEFORE HE ENVIES (Book #12)

AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)

KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

A TRACE OF MURDER (Book #2)

A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)

PROLOGUE

Christine had only seen snow once before in her life. So when it started to come down around her as she made her way home from her boyfriend’s house, she smiled. She figured that if she hadn’t drunk so much tonight, she’d be able to enjoy it better. She was twenty years old but could not help but stick her tongue out to catch a few flakes. She chuckled under her breath at the feel of it…plus the fact that she’d come a long way from her home in San Francisco.

She’d transferred to Queen Nash in Maryland with a desire to focus on political science. Winter break was nearing its end and she was currently looking forward to dominating the coming spring’s course load. It was one of the reasons she and her boyfriend, Clark, had been hanging out tonight—for one last hoorah before the semester began. There had been a little party of sorts and Clark, as usual, had too much to drink. She’d decided to walk home, just three blocks away, rather than stay there and have Clark’s friends hit on her while their girlfriends shot her nasty looks. That’s usually how any get-together at Clark’s place ended when it didn’t go the whole way with her going to his bedroom.

Besides…she was feeling overlooked. Clark was terrible about that, always choosing work, school, or getting drunk over her. There was someone else she could call when she got back to her apartment. Sure, it was late, but he had made it very clear that he was available for her at all hours. He’d proven it before, so why not tonight?

As she crossed a street between two blocks, she took note of how the snow was already sticking to the sidewalks. The storm had been expected so the roads had been treated and salted, but the white blanket of falling snow adhered to the sidewalks and the small strips of grass in front of and between the apartment buildings she passed.

By the time Christine reached her apartment, she almost decided to go back to Clark’s place. It was cold and the snow was sending a little surge of childlike wonder through her. As she reached for her key to unlock the door to the apartment building, she nearly turned around and did just that.

The only thing that convinced her otherwise was knowing that she would not sleep well if she went back. Her own bed awaited her here, her warm blankets and at least a solid eight hours of sleep.

She walked inside and headed for the elevators. She pushed the three button and waited for the elevator to arrive. She was not drunk, just a bit tipsy, and she started to toy with the idea of having one more glass of wine when she got to her apartment and then making a call…to the man she’d been sort of seeing on the side for the last few months.

This was what was on her mind when the elevator arrived. She stepped on and took it up to her floor, liking the way her buzzed head felt as the elevator shifted upward.

She stepped off into her hall and found it empty. This made sense, as it was after one o’clock on a Wednesday night. She approached her door and again pulled her keys out. As they jostled in her still-cold hands, a voice from behind her gave her a jump.

“Christine?”

She turned at the sound of her name. She smiled when she saw him standing there. She wasn’t going to have to call him after all. It was like he had anticipated her wanting him. It had been about a week or so, after all.

“Hey,” she said.

He walked closer to her, his stride purposeful. He was looking at her in the way he usually did, with a fire in his eyes that made it clear what he wanted. The look alone turned her on—that, and the fact of who he was. He was off limits. He was…well, he was sort of dangerous, now wasn’t he?

They met at her door, practically crashing into one another. The kiss was a little clumsy because it was so fierce. Her hands started exploring instantly. She grabbed the waist of his pants, pulling him closer. His hand traced the edges of her body, sliding down between her thighs as they clung to one another in the hallway.

“Inside,” she managed to say between the kiss and her already heated breath. “Now.”

She unlocked the door as he nibbled at her neck. She moaned, on edge for what was about to happen. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to make it to the bedroom. Maybe not even the couch. The door unlocked and she pushed it open. When he came instantly to her, kicking the door closed, she pushed him away. She leaned back against the small kitchen counter and removed her shirt. He liked it when she undressed for him. It was a weird control thing, making him feel like she was serving him even before the sex started.

When she pulled her top up over her head, already reaching for the clasps of her bra, she looked into his eyes…and froze. He was standing still, that fire in his eyes gone now. Now, there was something else. Something new…something that scared her.

He cocked his head, as if examining her for the first time, and then he was on her. He’d been rough with her before, but this was new. This was not sexual in any way. He pressed his full weight against her and wrapped his hands around her neck. There was nothing playful about it; his grip was fierce, and she could feel her windpipe being squeezed right away.

It took less than ten seconds for her lungs to start to panic. When they did, she slapped at him furiously even as she felt her knees giving out.

She felt her chest growing tighter, as if there was some sort of force inside of her that was pushing the air out. When she fell to the floor, the back of her head struck the kitchen counter. His hands never left her neck, seeming to grow tighter and tighter the weaker she got.

She gave one final slap, but it was so weak that she wasn’t even sure if it landed. When she hit the floor, he was on top of her. He continued to choke her, pressing his excited manhood against her. Her hands flailed for something—for anything—but all they found was the shirt she had just removed for him.

She barely had time to wonder why he was doing this before the darkness came rushing forward, relieving her of that terrible pain in her chest.

CHAPTER ONE

Mackenzie was standing in her bathroom, leaning against the sink and looking at the toilet. She’d looked at the toilet a lot lately, riding out her first trimester in a way that was almost too by-the-book. Her morning sickness had been particularly bad between weeks eight and eleven. But even now, as she was about halfway through week fifteen, it tended to be rough. She didn’t have it nearly as often now but when it did hit, it was nasty.