CHAPTER ONE

AVERY

Thirteen years later . . .

 

MY FATHER ONCE TOLD ME that a man who wants, takes. He said, boy, a woman will fear you, and men will respect you if you’re willing to do what it takes in order to get what you want. Deserve. His hands were covered in blood at the time—not his—and he had a smile on his face as if he was sharing some family secret.

I hate that the sorry bastard was right.

I have taken a lot over my thirty years. Lives included. It’s what I do. I take. And take. And take. I never ask permission and have no regrets. My father raised me, after all.

He was all me and my brothers had. I’m the middle son. My mother walked out on us when I was five. She’d had enough of her marriage to a sick, twisted man and three boys who were going to grow up just like him. She had no hope, and we were all damned.

I don’t blame her. Who could? My father was the devil. And the fucker is still alive to this day, working with his demons to rule the world. The only thing I hate is that I grew up just like him. It was inevitable, I guess. And the sad part is, I wouldn’t change my life if I could.

“Just fucking kill me,” the man by the name of Marc growls.

“Not until you tell me what I need to know.” I place my hands in the pockets of my black dress slacks and look down at him. He thrashes in the chair but isn’t going to go far. I put four-inch nails through both his hands, securing him to the chair the moment he arrived.

“I know nothing,” he snaps.

“I don’t believe you.”

He looks up at me—well, the best he can. His right eye is swollen shut thanks to my fist. “I’m telling you the truth.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “The truth is you’re lying.”

“I am not!” he shouts.

I arch a brow at his tone, and he cowers. I smile. “I …”

A knock comes on the door, and I walk over to it, yanking the heavy steel open. “I said don’t disturb me …”

“You have a call, sir,” Kayn, my head of security announces, holding my cell out to me.

I let out a sigh of annoyance and yank the phone from his grasp. I look down to see it’s a blocked number. Not good.

“Hello?”

“We’ve got a problem,” the male’s voice informs me.

“I’m listening.” Kayn moved to stand in front of the guy I have nailed to the chair.

“Preston fucked up.”

My jaw tightens. “How bad?” The bastard is a thorn in my side. Has been since we were kids.

“Bad enough that his sister is in danger.”

And just like that, my already sour mood turns deadly. My hand clenches the cell, and my jaw tightens. “What kind of danger?” I growl.

“I have a reliable source that says she’s on Damon’s radar.”

Fuck!

“Where is she?” I demand, knowing what I have to do. It’s not even a question.

“New York.”

“I’ll call my pilot and get my jet ready—”

“No,” he interrupts me. “That is not your job, Avery. You take care of Preston. Presleigh is on her own.”

“I’ll take care of Preston, but she is—”

“Insignificant,” he argues, interrupting me again.

I bow my head and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I say nothing, he continues. “I mean it, Avery. Take care of Preston and Preston only.”

Click.

I place the cell in my pocket and then turn to look at the man still sitting in the chair. “You have one chance to tell me where the fuck Damon is!” If I can get him, then I won’t have to save her. There’s a reason she isn’t in my life anymore, and I’d like to keep it that way.

“I don’t know …”

“Okay, let’s play it your way.” I grab a pair of pliers off the wooden table next to me and then turn back, grabbing his head. “If you’re not gonna talk, then you don’t need your tongue.”

He looks up at me wide-eyed. “I’ve heard how sick you are. They say everyone should be afraid of you.”

“Rightfully so.”

“I swear …” He thrashes in the chair, causing blood to pour from his hands secured by the nails, and he grits his teeth to keep from crying out like a baby. “I know nothing …”

“Kayn, hold his head,” I order.

He walks behind Marc and reaches down to grab his chin and yanks his head back, securing it in place.

“Open!” I demand.

He tries to shake his head, but it’s impossible with Kayn’s iron grip on him.

I grab his nose and pinch it, taking away his air. When he opens his lips to suck in a breath, I shove the pliers in, and he starts to mumble around the cold metal when I grab his tongue. Blood instantly fills his mouth from the instrument of torture.

“I think he’s trying to talk to you, sir,” Kayn observes.

I pause and look into the man’s watery brown eyes. “Are you going to give me something useful?”

He blinks rapidly and tears roll down his face. Pathetic!

Everyone dies eventually. I was taught to die with dignity.

I pull away, and Kayn releases his head. He bends forward and spits blood onto my concrete floor and some of it lands on my shoes. He heaves in breath after breath, bending over.

“You’re wasting my time.” I grunt.

“Cuba.” He gasps. “Damon’s in Cuba.”

I tap the pair of pliers against my right thigh. “I already know that. Give me something else.”

He shakes his head, still looking down at the concrete floor. Blood runs from his mouth just like his hands. “That’s all I know. He keeps us in the dark for this very reason.”

I need more than that! Her life is on the line. Just the thought of her has my heart beating faster. It’s been eleven years since I’ve seen her last. I was nineteen, her seventeen. We were just kids still.

I fist my left hand at that thought. I don’t even have to count the years. My mind just knows. My heart also remembers how she stomped on it.

“How does he contact you?” I growl.

“Burner phone. He calls us on it, and then we destroy it afterward.”

Hmm. Not helpful.

What am I gonna do? She’s in trouble.

I blink. Don’t think about her. But like an unexpected storm, she starts to flood my thoughts.

 

Laughter fills my ears as the prettiest blue eyes stare up at me. Her blond hair fans out over her pillow. Soft hands wrap around my neck, and she pulls me down to her. “I love you, Avery,” she whispers against my lips.

“I love you too, Bunny …”

 

“Avery?” Kayn snaps.

I take a step back and look up at him. I blink, then look down at the man I was in the middle of torturing when I got that phone call.

I need more than that!

“There’s a woman. Her name is Presleigh Clarke. Have you heard of her?” I demand. Saying her name out loud almost brings me to my knees.

He looks up at me, and for the first time since I dragged him down to the cellar of my house, he looks utterly surprised.

He knows something.

He seems to regain his composure and starts shaking his head quickly.

I punch him in the face so hard his head snaps back, more blood pouring out of his mouth and now nose, his hands still nailed to the chair.

“She doesn’t … belong to him,” he says, trying to breathe through his busted nose.

I lean down and grip his neck, the pliers still in my free hand. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Damon would never go after her,” he chokes out.

He’s playing me. “I have heard otherwise.”

He coughs, and it makes his entire body shake. “He has men on her …”

Fuck! Fuck! “He what?” My jaw clenches. “How fucking long?”

He closes his heavy eyes, and I slap him.

“How fucking long?” I shout, hating to repeat myself.

He whispers, “Six months now.”

I drop the pliers on the concrete floor at his words and run a hand through my hair. “No.” That’s all I can think to say.

Six months?

For six fucking months, Damon has had his men watching the woman I used to love?

How did I not know this? Why do you even care is the more important question.

I look at Marc while I feel Kayn’s eyes on me but choose to ignore him. “But you said he won’t go after her?” I ask.

He shakes his head quickly, and blood flies in the air.

“Why would he watch her but not touch her?” I ask myself out loud. It doesn’t make sense.

“You love her,” Marc lets out a rough chuckle that turns into a cough.

Kayn’s brows shoot to his hairline in surprise. Again, I ignore him.

“What?” I snap.

His head is back; his one useful eye is heavy on mine while he stares up at me from his chair. He gives me a bloody smile, and it makes a chill run up my back. “I said you love her.”

Love? That word sounds minimal compared to what I once felt for her. She was life. She was … everything.

 

It’s freezing out here on this mountain. My hands and legs are on the verge of going numb even with all my gear on. “Come on, we’re almost there,” I say, pulling her behind me.

“I can’t feel my feet,” Bunny whines.

I chuckle, but mine aren’t far off from hers. “Just a little farther.”

My boots dig into the firmly packed snow. I make it to the spot and turn to face her. She has her arms crossed over her chest, briskly bouncing up and down to keep warm. She wears a white snowsuit and jacket. She has the hood up and a pink scarf wrapped around her face, covering her mouth and nose. All I can see is her pretty blue eyes.

“Let’s go.” She gestures to the skis that I hold in my hands. “I wanna get down the mountain and then get a cup of hot chocolate.”

I drop them, and they fall to my sides.

“Avery …”

I kneel down and look up at her.

She takes a step toward me, narrowing her blue eyes on mine. “We don’t have time for this, babe. It’s freezing …”

I pull the white box out of my pocket, and her words come to a halt.

She reaches up and pulls down her scarf to show me her pink lips. “Avery,” she whispers. “What are you …?” She looks around as if this is a joke. As though someone is gonna jump out and say gotcha. I get it. We’re young. But I love her. Presleigh Joanna Clarke is the one for me.

“Bunny, I love you!” Tears instantly spring to her eyes. I clear the knot in my throat. “Will you …?”

“Yes!” She squeals before running and jumping on me. I go tumbling backward into the snow, laughing as her lips touch mine.

 

I pull myself out of that memory from so long ago. Yet so much changed right after that. Not sure what I was thinking anyway. She was seventeen, and I was nineteen. Too young to be engaged. Too young to be in love. And just months later, she left me.

I look down at him, and that sadistic smile is still on his face—as if he can read my mind. See my thoughts.

He’s fucking with me. He has to be. How would he …?

“I can see it written all over your face,” he muses and then coughs, blood spilling out of his mouth and running down his chin.

I run a hand through my hair and let out a growl. This can’t be happening! “Get ready to leave,” I tell Kayn, and he frowns at me, not knowing what is going on. He doesn’t know about her. The woman I loved to the bitch I now hate. If anyone is going to have her, it’s gonna be me.

The man in the chair chuckles. “When he finds out you have Presleigh, he’ll kill you, and then he’ll take her. All bets will be off.”

He’s telling the truth, but he underestimates me. Just like they all do. That’s why he is about to die, and I’m not. I pull my cell out of my pocket and hit number two on my speed dial, dialing my pilot’s number. “Hello?” he answers sleepily.

“I want wheels up in an hour. We’re going to New York.” I hang up and hand it to Kayn. He takes it without a word. “Now, where were we?” I ask, twirling the pliers in my hand.