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  And I got the idea that maybe, with a little more work on me, Alex might feel the same. Brian was pissed, of course, and to say that mom had been displeased is an understatement.

  They’d made my life hell but I ignored it all, keeping my eye on the prize. I felt good about myself and a little too good about the thought of using my old tricks to try and land my new crush.

  And then one day he disappeared and I never saw him again. I was miserable and angry that he’d just disappear like that without even a goodbye. I’d been tempted to fall back into my old ways and bury myself in the noise that was the popular kids, but no. I took it on the chin and kept going, much to mom and Brian’s dismay.

  So, one day I stayed late at school trying to earn extra credits on an English paper only to find that one of my tires was flat. I’m a girl who didn’t even know what a jack looked like, so I didn’t have a clue how to fix the situation. Plus, my phone had died somewhere around last period.

  I decided to walk home, even though it was really far because hey, it wouldn’t kill me right? Wrong! About half a mile into my journey, it started getting dark and I realized maybe I should have gone back inside and used a phone to call someone.

  Then a car approached and I thought hey, I can get a lift or at least ask to use their phone. Wrong again.

  As soon as the car stopped beside me, I saw four hulking masked men pile out and I knew I was in deep trouble. I’d dropped everything and taken off, thanking my years of track and cheer squad for the fitness and physical speed I needed. I sprinted away and kept running till my legs burned and my heart felt like it was trying to crawl out of my throat.

  I started slowing eventually, my body completely out of steam, my heart hoping, foolishly believing that I’d lost them and that my screams would have made them run.

  My heart pounded so loudly that I couldn’t hear anything else but its frantic beat in my ears. And then I heard the pounding of their footsteps behind me and I knew I was wrong.

  The new spurt of adrenaline had made me speed up, and I frantically looked around for a house, any signs of civilization that could save me, but all around me was nothing but trees and a long, deserted stretch of dark road.

  I was alone, running on empty and so terrified to be caught that I’d done the most stupid thing imaginable. I darted for the line of trees to my left, hoping to get lost in the inky blackness. My sneakers hit the soft grass and I slipped in the remnants of the light drizzle that had blown over hours ago, but I corrected quickly and plunged in, squinting my eyes to avoid a direct hit with the trees surrounding me.

  And still I heard the hard pounding of footsteps behind.

  By that point, I was wheezing and I knew I was done. I’d run no more than a mile at that point—usually I could do four and then another two at a slow jog—but the fear was making me seize up and my legs had started cramping.

  So I hurled myself right, fell to my knees and crawled into a line of bushes, curling up in the dark and holding my breath to stop my whimpers from escaping.

  I can’t say how much time passed, minutes maybe, but they felt like hours as I heard more footsteps and the men crashing through the foliage. They never said a word but slowly and methodically searched, their flashlights making me shrink back further under the leaves.

  Dampness had seeped through my thin sweater and jeans and I started shivering as time went on, the tears streaking my cheeks adding another layer as the air turned colder.

  And then the most frightening thing happened. I heard nothing. No footsteps, no leaves rustling. Everything was dead silent but for the choppy breaths I couldn’t control.

  It was terrifying because I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen beneath that bush in total fear, my muscles screaming at me to make a break for it while my mind begged me to stay put and wait.

  I obeyed my mind but only because my body was done.

  Feeling a little less harried, I worked on calming my breaths and slowing my heart rate, relaxing my stiff muscles. I’d relaxed too soon because while I was focusing on me, I failed to hear the soft crunch of leaves. I didn’t know he was on top of me until a hand tightened around my left ankle and yanked me out.

  I’d screamed and fought with what little I had left, but it was no use. My attacker was a lot stronger and wasn’t half limp with exhaustion. He simply batted my hands away, clocked me one good one that shook my brain and made me woozy, and then threw me over his shoulder.

  Blood had poured from my split lip as I hung limply and felt his shoulder knock the breath from my lungs with his every footfall as he broke into a trot.

  All too soon, we hit the road again and the five of them proceeded to tie me up, duct tape my mouth and shove me in the trunk. Being trapped in there, anticipating what they had in store for me was terrifying. I rubbed my wrists raw trying to get free by the time the car slowed and then stopped.

  Four doors opened and shut, and then I was looking up at five black hockey masks that seemed to grin at me. They hauled me out, shoved me around a little and shoved something into my arm.

  Almost immediately, I felt myself go drowsy and no amount of panic, adrenaline or denial could stop me from swaying and then passing out. I don’t remember much about what happened after except for the insistent flashing of lights. I woke in a field, naked and aching.

  Marooned, my memory blinking in and out and my muscles making me stumble, I’d somehow managed to get to the road and start walking. I only got about six steps before my legs gave out and dumped me on my ass.

  Thirsty, starving and traumatized, I’d crawled on my hands and knees, sobbing and desperate to get somewhere safe. It took so long my knees and forearms turned bloody and I was ready to lie down and die there on that road.

  I didn’t though, and not because I didn’t lie down and give up—because I did. No, I survived because a truck driver just happened to be on that road at dawn and he saw me and stopped.

  I will be forever grateful to that man because he picked me up even though I was crying and near hysterical by that point. He got me in his rig and under a blanket, and then drove me to the hospital.

  The rest of it is about the same. I was dehydrated, bruised from the way I’d been shoved around and severely traumatized.

  My mom, of course, blamed me for being foolish and raged about my inability to stop crying. Dad was furious because…well I don’t know since dad never said a word. He just looked at me with dark eyes.

  After they discharged me, I went into a very dark depression and would freak out at the slightest sound. I hid in my room, not caring about anything at all. Hell, I skipped so many showers I’m surprised my mom didn’t take me out back and dump flea powder on me before hosing me down.

  And then, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I swallowed two bottles of mom’s Valium and sleeping pills and woke up again in the hospital, only this time Grandma was there.

  And that there was the moment that I was truly saved.

  That there is the moment that instead of giving up and letting this beat me, I took her advice and thumbed my nose at every bastard in the world.

  She taught me a lot after I finally sprung myself from the loony bin Mom had dumped me in. The biggest lesson was to never give up and let the enemy win.

  And I won’t let them win either, because remembering it all has forced me to examine it in a way that I could never let myself before, and I remember one thing. Nobody had spoken that night, except one. Their silence added to my fear.

  One of them had rasped a full sentence that I’m forcing myself to remember. This is what happens to uppity bitches who don’t do what they’re told.

  One simple line, and I know who said it.

  Gareth Knox.

  I’m disgusted that I’ve spent years in these peoples’ company. It's as if they think they’ve gotten one over on me and won. Not for much longer though, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my cold husband, it’s that losing is not an option.

  For th
is reason, I hope Chase is ready. Because I’m not a quitter and he’s in a whole lot of trouble if he thinks I’m going to take this lying down.

  But first, I have some plans to make for the five animals who tried to ruin me.

  Chapter 31

  Remy

  “I need help.”

  Hensley and Dec tense where they’re sitting at the kitchen table, wolfing down the fried chicken and salad that I made for dinner. Chase isn’t home yet, something he’s been doing the last few nights since I told him to go screw his fist. So I’m graced by not just one hottie in my kitchen but two.

  Two men who are now very appreciative and more than willing to snap to attention the moment the words leave my lips.

  “What you need sweetheart?” Dec asks, pushing his plate away and groaning. I serve them each a piece of the cherry pie I baked—I'd had to Google the video instructions—and a cup of coffee.

  I sit down and pull my own teacup to my lips, meeting their eyes over the rim, sort of steadying myself before lowering it to the saucer.

  “This does not concern Chase, so if you feel some sort of loyalty that will force you to tell him, tell me now and I won’t even continue,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can.

  When Liv and I had talked about this, she’d warned me that Brick and his men have some sort of deep bond thing with Chase. They’re not all friends, but he’d done something for them that means they will forever be in his debt, even though he’s tried to discharge them of that without fail.

  It seems they think of him as one of them and will do anything for him and, by extension, me too. But I need this to be just about me and Liv thinks that may not be possible.

  “If it endangers your life or in any way means you leave Chase, then you shouldn’t continue,” Dec says after sharing a look with Hensley.

  They both nod at each other as if coming to some understanding. Now I know that they’ll at least listen.

  “You can decide if you want to help me or not. If not, I need a promise that what I tell you stays between us.”

  They share another look. I can almost hear the gears grinding but both of them look at me and nod once.

  “It stays between us. No matter what.”

  Relief hits me and I blow out a breath at their promise, feeling a little less intimidated. I mean, of course I’m intimidated. These two are deadly from what I’ve seen I couldn’t ask for better protectors and now, if they do this for me, saviors.

  If this works, I might finally be able to lay these ghosts to rest and maybe save my relationship too. He can search for the guys who abducted me, and then I’ll finish what was started over a decade ago.

  “What’s this about, Remy?” Hensley asks when I get a little lost in thought.

  “When I was in high school, I dated a guy, my ex-husband, Brian Carson.”

  The look they give me is not kind. I get the idea they know who he is and feel about as warm and fuzzy about him as I do, and considering my feelings fall more toward slasher flicks and baseball bats, well…

  “Yeah. Anyway, sometime in that year, I got a rude awakening and was forced to see the mess I was. And I started down a different path. I changed, a lot, and by the time I was done, I sorta realized he was not the guy I wanted to be with. I broke things off with him but he didn’t take it well. He was sort of grooming me to be his long-term girlfriend, and then the perfect politician’s wife.”

  “Asshole.”

  I grin at Dec and incline my head.

  “Quite. So anyway, I cut him loose and he did not take it well, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least I didn’t think there was.”

  Their eyes narrow at that and I swallow. I’m not going to go into detail here, but I think they should at least have enough to understand how serious this is for me.

  “So anyway, I was not in a good place when…that’s not important. Let's just say I suffered a major loss and I wasn’t very smart about some things. I had a late class one day and ended up walking home when my car had a flat that my prissy ass couldn’t change or call for help because my phone died.”

  They grin and I roll my eyes.

  “On the way, a car stopped…and let me just say that I knew I was in deep shit. There were five of them, all wearing masks. They chased me down like a dog, threw me in the trunk and shoved a needle in my arm. I woke up in a field around dawn, naked and pretty messed up.”

  Okay, now those grins are just gone and, wow, they look about ready to start tearing heads off. I’d be afraid if I thought for one minute that I could be a target, but I’m not, so I kind of gloat inside about what will now happen to Brian and his friends.

  “I woke up and crawled till my knees bled but I was so weak, I just… A trucker found me and took me to the hospital and I… things didn’t go well for me after that. But that’s not important right now. What is important is that my stupid brain thinks it knows who those guys were.”

  “Names,” Hensley growls, his eyes going so light I swear they look like they’re glowing.

  Dec doesn’t seem to be any better off and I hear his knuckles crack when he clenches a fist.

  “No killing.”

  “Rem—”

  “Nuhuh. All I want you to do for me is get some information so I can put a few plans in place. Just information.”

  “But—”

  “Please. This is important to me guys. It’s my one chance to put those ghosts to rest so I can be free of it. I need to do this my way, not by handing it off to a man to fix. Please.”

  I didn’t tell Doc about this when I’d called her because: one, I’m afraid she’ll warn the cops since if this works, I’m going to watch five men scream; and two, she’ll tell me some bullshit about violence not being the answer.

  Too bad. I feel violent so therefore it must be some sort of answer, maybe just not her version of the right one.

  “Fine. Names,” Dec barks, pushing away his uneaten pie.

  I tell them and I can literally feel the air around me freeze with their anger. Gosh, it’s so nice to have them in my life. They may be stone-cold killers doing the work they do, but I love them like the brothers I wish I had—my one and only brother being less than useless. I’m grateful just to know them.

  After that, they stand and leave me alone in the kitchen, each bending to give me a kiss on the head.

  “We’ll be there when you do what you have to. Understand?”

  “Yup. Love you guys.”

  Chapter 32

  Chase

  No sex.

  That’s all I can think about lately and it’s driving me so fucking crazy. I wake up humping the sheets, my dick so hard I’m embarrassed to admit it.

  Shamed at my behavior—and the insane urge to wake Remy up with my cock already filling her—I slam into the bathroom and treat my dick to an icy shower that deflated him almost instantly. Till I walk out of the bathroom and find her sprawled on my side of the bed, my pillow clutched to her face as if she’s seeking my scent.

  Instant boner.

  Damned woman is being so stubborn!

  So what if we’re not sharing our feelings and doing pottery scenes from Ghost! We’re compatible where it counts, and we share a mutual respect that many couples don’t have.

  I’m so damned desperate to touch her right now that I consider getting her drunk just to see if she’ll loosen up a bit. Now don’t go all feminist outrage on me, I’m not going to. Mostly because for me it’s not just the release that I crave but that one moment when she’s so open that we connect on more than a physical plain.

  That’s what’s got me on edge—that Remy has completely withdrawn from me to the point of seeming unaffected by my touch. Just weeks ago, she’d attack me if I so much as looked at her with heat.

  I bloody miss the wench and it’s killing me to sleep beside her without feeling her in my arms. She doesn’t even roll into me anymore. So, short of pinning her to my side, I’m shit out of luck and up the creek without a blee
ding paddle.

  I know what it will take to get her back in my arms and writhing beneath me. Sharing. She wants to tell me about her past, and she wants to know who I am.

  I can’t risk it though, because I know that if she tells me something that I can’t get over—someone is dying. My temper since the incident with Carson and his goons is not something I want to even contemplate around my wife.

  God, I love calling her that. It implies an ownership that makes me hard and achy with the need for her.

  She’s mine, and I protect what I…own. Even from myself, and I will never let her see that part of me because she’ll bolt; I know she will. Remy is way too soft for a dark, broken beast like me but—

  “Jesus, you’re still sulking? Just talk to your wife and get it over with you idiot.”

  I look up from my paperwork and glare at Gabe when he saunters in and plops into the chair across from my desk, his limbs loose and relaxed. Someone in this place is obviously getting laid. Bastard.

  “Mind your own bloody business, Gabriel.”

  His grin is full of smug glee and it takes an effort for me not to vault over the desk and wipe it right off his face. I resist the urge and try to ignore the blighter.