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A reluctant stripper and a damaged bounty hunter lay bare a tale of stolen lives, secret shames and the powerful criminal behind their every shattered dream.
Polly:
For just one night I needed to turn off the dread I felt every day. I needed to forget that despite every carefully planned escape, my past was waiting to tap me on the shoulder and steal away everything I cared about. I wanted this man. It was passionate. It was perfect. It was the beginning of the end.
Painter:
I don't get involved. I don't get personal. I get a name and last-known whereabouts, and I get the job done. This assignment was no different. Find and identify the target. Collect and deliver the target. But the woman calling herself Polly was a revelation—in every way. My boss always got what he wanted. Until now.
Polly:
For just one night I needed to turn off the dread I felt every day. I needed to forget that despite every carefully planned escape, my past was waiting to tap me on the shoulder and steal away everything I cared about. I wanted this man. It was passionate. It was perfect. It was the beginning of the end.
Painter:
I don't get involved. I don't get personal. I get a name and last-known whereabouts, and I get the job done. This assignment was no different. Find and identify the target. Collect and deliver the target. But the woman calling herself Polly was a revelation—in every way. My boss always got what he wanted. Until now.
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