TRENT

Dear Trent,

Talk dirty to you, huh? I can honestly say I’ve never talked dirty to a man before, and I definitely haven’t had a man tell me how much he wants to fuck me.

Before I get down to telling you what I want you to do to me, I want you to know how much my love has grown for you since the first time I wrote it down.

There are no words to express how I hold you sacredly in my heart.

You’ve become my best friend, my true love, and every morning when I wake, I remind myself it’s one step closer to the day we meet.

I want you, Trent Calloway. The ache that lingers between my legs has me using my fingers to relieve the desire for you whenever you cross my mind. My fingers have nothing on what I have imagined yours can do.

Your thick, long fingers spread me wide and intensify the pressure in my pussy. I won’t stop throbbing until you touch me with your rough fingers and taste my want for you.

Within seconds, you have me on edge, stroking me with your fingers and fucking me wildly with your tongue, and you don’t let up through my begging. You assault me until I’m limp in your arms, and then, like the promises you’ve made like the man true to your word you are, you flip me over and shift my world upside down when you drive your cock inside me the way you drove this hard bargain when you dared me to write this to you.

“What the hell?” I bolt upright out of bed. My dick so fucking hard it hurts as badly as my torn-up skin. Christ, I need to find her, and not for sex. I need her to balance out my life. Make me whole and let me take care of her.

“Time to wake up, motherfucker.” I drag my eyes through the dark at the sound of that voice. The minute I swing my legs over the side, the room starts spinning. The bitch spins and spins until my stomach lurches in my throat. The ends calling to my mind to where I am fuzzy, and the horrendous pounding in my skull won’t let up to save my ass from hobbling through the darkness and barely making it into the bathroom to vomit.

My breathing is crackling in my chest, my eyes piping hot, and my skin won’t cease from the flaming pokers that keep stabbing at my skin.

“What the fuck did they give him? Jesus Christ.” That voice shoots like acid dripping down my throat. Fucking hell.

“I don’t fucking know. Some kind of hallucinogen.” My rage doesn’t do a thing to attack the pain in my stomach, but it gives me the power to stand up and stumble back into the wall. Fuck me. Please tell me I’m having a nightmare or seeing shit again, because there is not a chance in hell this man is standing in the bathroom with me.

“Do you know the consequences for breaking parole?” Zack Wright, Clove’s brother, leans up against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, badge dangling around his neck, bulletproof vest on and a cocky smirk all rolled into an FBI agent.

Talk about a nightmare from hell. It would be my luck that the person I was going to call for help would take a job with the FBI and no doubt keeping his eye on me. Son of a bitch.

“Sure do. How the hell did you find me? Pretty damn ironic you’re here when I was going to call you for help.” Something eerily familiar flashes across his face when he connects his eyes with mine. At his command and my acceptance, I killed Zack and Clove’s mother, and he kept it quiet. The evil woman who played with her daughter’s life. The woman I helped shelter Clove away from my brother and her family, and now he’s here. The possibility that he could fuck me over pisses me off. That’s not what he’s here for, though. That gleam in his eye says it all. He’s here to watch me suffer.

“What the hell are you up to, Zack? If you’ve been keeping tabs on me, then we wouldn’t be here right now. A man like you wouldn’t let a woman and an innocent child disappear.” I hate to cut him wide open and bring back memories. I’m not the type of man to tiptoe around the truth anymore. I say what I have to say, whether it wedges into someone’s soul or not.

“I didn’t. One of my men did. His name was Eric. He’s dead, and the man who killed him needs to pay.” Zack remains casual as he moves out of the way in order for me to walk through. Out of the corner of my eye, I see every muscle in his face twitch and convulse as if each nerve is trying to fight against the other. He’s holding back his grief.

“He does. I’m sorry for your loss, man. I really am.” I’m not going to address the way he died or cut Zack up any more than he already is.

I grab my T-shirt from last night, pull it over my head, and make my way out into the living area.

“Where is everyone?” I’ll help him all he wants, but not until he confirms he doesn’t have my friends locked up in a jail cell.

“On a plane back home. This could get messy; we don’t want innocent people getting hurt. You, I couldn’t give a shit about. Start talking, or you're going back to prison and the redemption you think you deserve won’t ever fucking happen.”

I’m not scared of what can happen to me anymore. I’m numb to it. Going back to prison, dying a little day at a time, doesn’t mean a damn thing when Zack’s words try tap dance their way into my skin.

He sees the past. The man he once knew. And I understand. I would, too, if I were walking in his shoes. Hell, I’d probably have shot me in my sleep if I were him.

My problem is, I can’t help him any more than he can help me right now, and that’s why he’s here. Zack is making sure I don’t do anything to mess up whatever plans they have to bring Luciano and his mother in.

“He’s a rotten motherfucker like I am. That’s all I know. I think it’s you who needs to start explaining things. Like why in the fuck you let the shit he was doing to his wife go on this long. Did you know they had a kid? Did you know he took her from him?”

I can see the remorse and guilt eating away at him. It mirrors my own. “Jesus Christ, you people knew all along and didn’t do a damn thing? She suffered, and you could have stopped it. Unbelievable.”

“When Eric relayed her story about the man Tara fell in love with, the more my memories started to disturb me and I knew. Fuck, I knew she was talking about you. I had to bite back the hatred I have for you to save her from another man like you. You have no idea how many times I wanted Eric to bring her to me, so I could convince her you were nothing like the man she was describing. You don’t know a thing. Eric wanted her to leave straight away. It was her choice to stay. Does the kind of woman she is ring a bell to you? She suffered through every minute of her life with a man she hated in order to get to her daughter. It seems to me you have an addiction for strong women, or she has a thing for weak men.”

For the first time in my life, it is quiet inside of my head. I’m not haunted by the scars and painful images of seeing Clove dying a little each time after she let me touch her. I can’t remember when I realized she knew I wasn’t my brother. My twisted mind kept going at her. Then one day, I snapped in half. The good man inside of me bared his strength and took over. By then, it was too late to save my soul, but I could save my brother from dying, I could get Clove back to the man she loved, and I did.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness from you. I don’t deserve it. I won’t sit here and listen to you try and break me. I’ve come too far, learned too much, and my heart will be crippled for life by what I’ve done. The here and now is what we need to focus on.”

“Yeah, well, what the here and now means for you is you’re stuck in this room with me.”

“Look, you hate me, and I get it. Time is wasting, Zack. As you can see, I’m not fit to help you, so what is it you want from me? If you’re here to relive our pasts instead of doing your job, then maybe you should turn me in.”

“I’m not here to take you in. I’m here to make sure you stay put until we have her.”

“Do you know where she is?” I ask breathlessly.

“Yes, we do.”