Wicked Game 3: The Steamy Scandal Series, #3

By Kristyn Kohl

What happens when getting the story of a lifetime threatens to end your life?

That's what Miami Tribune reporter Chelsea Knight is left wondering after she went from exposing a scandalous story to standing squarely in the crosshairs of a madman. 

Just how far will he go to get revenge?

It wasn't supposed to be this way.  Chelsea was supposed to be on cloud nine.  She was supposed to be enjoying a thrilling romance with her sexy boyfriend.  She was supposed to be reaping the benefits of her investigative journalism efforts that turned the baseball world on its head. 

Instead, she's trying desperately not to become the story.

The one thing she wasn't counting on?  A hot security expert who comes along and changes everything.  Max Davenport is a sexy alpha male who's desperate to take care of her, but will it work?  Will Chelsea ever really be safe?

You'll never believe who turns out to be the wild card in this wicked game.

To fully enjoy the Steamy Scandal Series, you should read all of the sexy suspense books in order:

Wicked Game 1 -- A Sexy Sports Thriller (The Steamy Scandal Series #1)

Wicked Game 2 -- A Sexy Sports Thriller (The Steamy Scandal Series #2)

Wicked Game 3 -- A Sexy Sports Thriller (The Steamy Scandal Series #3)

Grab your copy of Wicked Game 3 and experience all of the steamy suspense today!

This book contains adult situations and explicit content, so it's best-suited for an audience that's 18+.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Premier Content Source, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536597493

Book preview

Chapter 1

What do you mean there's nothing you can do?!

Her shriek was loud enough to stand out in the bustling police station.  Chelsea waited for Detective Steve McBroom to say something, but he just stood there looking completely useless.

Angelo Acosta told me he was going to kill me! Chelsea shouted.  You're the police!  Why can't you go arrest him?!

Because we don't have any evidence, the Detective said with a slow shake of his head.  Unfortunately, it's your word against his.

My phone records will show that he called me! Chelsea said desperately.  Do you think he called to have some kind of friendly chat?!

Detective McBroom let out a sigh and started to rub his right temple with his index finger.  I believe you, Chelsea.  Really, I do.  But I can't—

Do anything, Chelsea finished sarcastically for him.  Yeah, you've made that pretty clear.  Why not arrest Angelo for killing Dan Pierson or Jorge Ruiz, then?  At least if Angelo's in jail, he won't be able to squeeze the life out of me—his words, not mine, she added at the end for dramatic effect.

We're working very hard on the Pierson and Ruiz cases, Detective McBroom insisted.  But right now our hands are tied.  Angelo did a very good job covering his tracks in both murders.  We don't have enough evidence to arrest him for either one yet.

What the hell is wrong with you people?! Chelsea cried.  Slade Stirling was with Dan when he got killed.  Surely he's told you that Angelo was the shooter!

Yes, but Slade also told us a bunch of lies right in the beginning of the investigation, the detective said with a disgusted look on his face.  Angelo's lawyer would have a field day with all of them.  We need independent evidence that doesn't depend on Slade's word, and we just don't have it.

Great, Chelsea muttered.  So what does that mean for me?

It means you keep your ears and eyes peeled for anything suspicious, Detective McBroom answered before handing her a business card.  If anything happens—day or night—you call me.  I want to nail this asshole just as badly as you do.

Trust me, I want it more, Chelsea said.  With all due respect, your life isn't the one hanging in the balance, Detective.

Chapter 2

Bitch!

Chelsea kept her head down as she walked into Sharks Stadium on Saturday night for the first game since Slade went into witness protection.  Even though she had a media parking pass—which meant that she got to park much closer to the stadium than any of the fans—it had felt like a cross-country journey tonight.  That's because many of the fans who spotted her along the way made their feelings crystal clear—they blamed her for Slade Stirling's career going up in flames. 

Walking into the media work room in the Sharks' press box was almost as bad as walking in from the parking lot.  She knew none of her colleagues would shout obscenities at her, but it was obvious that many of them shared the fans' sentiments.  A group of them spun around and stared at her as soon as they walked in.  It was obvious they'd just been talking about her.  At least Robert St. Claire had the balls to say something to my face, Chelsea thought to herself as she was greeted by silent scowls.  The rest of these jackasses do all of their shit talking behind my back.

Hi Chelsea, a surprisingly warm voice said.  The pleasantness of it shook her out of her thoughts.  She couldn't believe anyone was actually happy to see her.  After her experiences so far, she didn't expect anyone to be nice to her tonight.

Hi Ralph, she said with a relieved smile when she saw who the friendly voice belonged to.

Then, Ralph leaned in close and whispered, I can never admit this publically, but you did the right thing.  Someone gave you a tip, and you followed it.  You did what all of these other guys wish they had the guts to do.

He winked at her and walked away.  Chelsea smiled.  At least someone's moral compass points in the right direction.

Once the game started, Chelsea watched the action from her usual spot—in the press box, at a long desk that all of the newspaper reporters shared, that overlooked the field.  Each reporter had his own space, complete with an internet connection and room to jot down notes.  She would never give him the satisfaction of knowing it, but it was a little