Chapter One
“A storm was coming but that’s not what she felt. It was adventure on the wind and it shivered down her spine.
—Atticus
Beckham
Boom!
As I kicked in the door of the brownstone myself, I felt no sense of satisfaction. We’d traveled far enough to catch the people responsible for torching the new studio that I was cranky as fuck, my patience destroyed.
As my soldiers piled inside, weapons brandished, no one hesitated to fire off a shot, taking down six of the men sequestered inside within seconds. The jerks had crossed the wrong man at the wrong time.
I was eager for bloodshed, more so than normal.
There wasn’t a single man alive who appreciated being blindsided, especially not when money had been spent only weeks before. The recording studio had been torched in the middle of the night, leaving nothing but ash and rubble.
By the time the firefighters had gotten there, the fire had been burning too hot, which meant at least one accelerant had been used. And where the fuck had I been during the attack? Accepting a goddamn award in place of my father, who’d begged off. He’d been at a golfing tournament with his buddies, his retirement well deserved but a constant pain in my ass.
Especially when he often stuck his nose into the corporation he’d turned over to me a few years before. I’d been eager for a night to myself, something that seemed to rarely happen lately. Then he’d called at the last minute. Christ. Yes, I knew the award was important to our family’s reputation, but I had no interest in playing politics, something that had annoyed my father my entire life.
However, someone had to make an appearance. We were still members of the Kennedy clan, most family members considered America’s sweethearts. Half were political giants. Then there was our side of the family, wildly wealthy black sheep with a penchant for butchery. I kind of liked the side of the family I’d been born into.
My soldiers raced forward, heading into the various other rooms of the broken-down building. The assholes had believed we wouldn’t be able to find them after their colorful warning had been issued. On top of the three-story fire, the arsonist had thought it funny to plant massive firecrackers inside. When they’d been detonated, the sky had lit up for almost an hour with vivid colors.
Maybe I should have been grateful that the entire city of Manchester, New Hampshire had been provided a Fourth of July-worthy fireworks event. While the jerks hadn’t been courageous enough to leave a calling card on my phone or in my email, I knew their methods of destruction like the back of my hand.
They were nothing but low-level cartel players, but with a little investigation I’d learned that along with running drugs, they freelanced for other syndicates to throw off the stench. Up to this point, the Kennedy regime hadn’t been forced to endure the ridiculous antics.
I guess we’d come up on the radar.
I sprayed my assault rifle from one side of the facility to the other as I walked forward. Spending time in this area of Maine got on my nerves much like everything else did.
“All clear,” Jeff Plant said as he stormed back into the room where I was hunkered down, staring at the vacant eyes of one of the men I’d killed.
Jeff was my second in command, a childhood buddy and the single person who could make me angrier than I was around my father. Jeff’s was the voice of reason.
Mine was what nightmares were made of.
I patted down the dead dude, finding exactly what I’d thought. Nothing. At least nothing except a strange brand on his neck. It was crude as fuck, a jagged knife likely used to cut away a significant portion of his skin. Cartels were known for their savagery, but they were a long way away from their base of operations.
Nodding, I stood, searching the room before taking long strides into the next one. A single noise caught my attention. I headed toward the back corner, kicking a few boxes aside. When one lone soldier came out swinging, I managed to sigh in exasperation before punching him in the nose followed by backhanding him with the rifle. He went down, collapsing into the cheap crates, boards snapping under his weight.
My three men encompassed an arc around me, waiting as I handled business. I always liked to have the last word and they knew better than to interrupt me. Reaching down, I snatched the asshole to his feet, noticing the same shitty brand. He spit out blood, the glob landing on my shoulder.
“Uh-oh,” James Saxton said under his breath. He’d earned his right to come, wanting to break free from his position behind a keyboard.
At least he’d gotten his quota of deaths in today. That should make him happy for a few weeks anyway.
I slowly glared down at the spittle, wishing I hadn’t selected one of my Armani suits to make the glorious trip to freaking Maine of all places. While not the most expensive piece of attire in the collection, I was a perfectionist, and this was just something else to keep my anger over the edge of reason. My gut told me that my upcoming questions would be ignored or laughed at, but what the heck. I’d try anyway.
“Hello. I’m going to ask you two questions. If you answer both correctly, not only will you win your kewpie doll of choice, but I might just allow you to live. So here goes. The brand on your neck. What is your affiliation and who hired you to attack the Kennedys?”
“No speaka Engli.”
“Nice try, bud. I know better. You have three seconds. What’s it going to be? One.”
He grinned, licking blood from his swollen lip.
“Two.”
He didn’t move a muscle, the dude just maintaining his smile.
“Pronto conocerás a tu creador,” the gang member hissed.
“Three.” I stepped back, giving the guy a grin of my own before spraying his body with bullets. As he slowly slid to the floor, blood covering the brick wall, I sighed. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“Nah, boss,” Jeff said. “You’re wild and young.”
I threw him a look.
“What the fuck did the dude say at the end?” Camden Wallace, my senior in command of the troops asked.
I lowered my weapon and turned around. Information wasn’t going to be forthcoming. Well, shit. It was early, still late afternoon. We could afford a little time to ourselves. “He said ‘soon, you’ll meet your maker.’ Looks like he beat us to it. Let’s go have a goddamn drink.”
[divider]Chapter Two
Kenya
“No, make that three dozen muffins, two dozen cupcakes, and at least six to eight crullers.” I was checking my guest list for the next week several times. Between the coffee and water order that I still needed to make, the list was ongoing. And the wine order. That could wait until the morning, even though it would be a Saturday. At least with no guests this weekend, I could relax. Enjoy the hot tub. Take a walk. Drink way too many glasses of wine.
And read a book.
I couldn’t remember the last time since I’d indulged myself. Not in my former life and certainly not since purchasing and remodeling the fabulous B & B in Maine. It was a dream come true, especially leaving the big city life.
As well as my big city job title and paycheck.
While I also owned a little house in the woods not too far away, this spectacular location was nestled against the Atlantic Ocean, the views magnificent and the setting peaceful. It was exactly what the doctor had ordered.
To think, my bitch of an ex best friend had mentioned the place was for sale. Had I known she’d had an ulterior motive, maybe I wouldn’t have made an offer so quickly. Now it was all mine.
Well, mine and the bank’s.
Cringing, I was hopeful the upcoming tourist season would bring in more clientele. If not, well, at least I could always sell the place. I rolled my eyes. Now that the real estate market had adjusted, I’d take a loss.
Going bankrupt wasn’t so bad on one’s record these days. Was it?
I felt a bead of perspiration trickling down one side of my face. If only I could get a good night’s sleep. That would help my surly mood. Something had to.
Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands. There I went again. Suzy Naysayer, as my mother always called me.
Janie tapped her pen on her notepad, which I acknowledged somewhere in the back of my scattered mind yet didn’t respond. She finally cleared her throat. “Earth to my best friend.”
I snapped up my head, noticing her friendly but stilted glare. “I was doing it again. Wasn’t I?” She’d become my best friend almost from the day I’d stumbled into her bakery with a growling stomach and a piss-poor attitude given the real estate agent had lied to me and hadn’t seemed interested in showing me the place after I’d driven all the way from New York City.
Wine had appeared before four o’clock in the afternoon. A woman after my own heart.
“Yes, you were.” She slid her pad onto the counter, moving toward the bottle of wine. “That’s why I brought reinforcements.”
“Wine?”
“Of course, darling. What else can bring you out of your doldrums? I’ll have you know this is one of the finest merlots produced in Maine.”
I had to admit the wine was looking damn good. I watched as she skillfully opened it. “How come you own a bakery instead of a restaurant? You’re a trained chef and sommelier, for God’s sake.” She knew more about wines than anyone I’d ever met, and her knife skills were terrifying. The woman could be a serial killer if she desired to change professions.
Janie Crouch was one tough woman in addition to everything else. She’d been to every continent hiking in her twenties, determined to conquer the world.
Meanwhile, I’d just attempted to conquer Wall Street. As if I thought landing a job in the Big Apple was far enough removed from my brutal family. Fortunately, once dear old Daddy had learned I was soiled he’d been more content to leave me alone.
And lock down my trust fund.
Whatever. I didn’t want blood money.
“I brought muffins and your favorite cupcake as a little treat,” she mused, her tone far too freaking happy.
While I heard her, I was too busy worrying about life in general to respond.
“Jesus. Why are you so dead set on sabotaging yourself?” she asked in return.
“I’m not doing that!”
“Really?” She popped the cork before glaring at me. “Then why were you thinking that you could accept foreclosure?”
“I was not.”
“I can see right through you,” she said in a singsong voice before pouring two glasses far too full. But I was thrilled she had. Some of my best times were spent laughing and drinking with her. The simple pleasures. They gave me my greatest sense of peace.
Besides, at this point I could gulp down the entire volume of liquid in one minute flat.
“Since I also know that you were contemplating drowning your sorrows, here you go.” She handed me a glass, leaning against the counter afterwards. “This place is going to make a fortune, girlfriend. The extra finesse and money you’ve put into it will be noticed.”
“That’s just it, I put a lot of money into something that barely had mediocre success.”
“That’s because it was the same tried and true everything, including food and linens. You’ve taken it up a couple notches. Take a deep breath then gulp the wine. My orders.”
“Won’t I choke?”
She rolled her eyes before grabbing her pen. “At least it’s a decent order this week. That means you might be hopeful.”
“It means I have a wedding party coming early next week, all the pain in the ass girls heading here to have girl time for a few days. You know what that means?”
Her laugh always made me laugh. “We were young once, unless you don’t remember. So they’ll giggle, talk about men’s butts, and maybe watch some porn. All while feasting on chocolate in the hot tub.”
“Sounds horrible.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” I took a sip, marveling in the smoothness of the grapes, alongside the hints of both raspberry and blackberry with a dash of currants. Janie knew my preferred tastes.
“You need to get laid.”
I spit out the entire amount in my mouth, barely missing her crisp white blouse. At least she had the common sense to jerk to the side, laughing not with me but at me.
As if I could blame her. I hadn’t been called the gangly klutz in high school for nothing. At least I’d filled out to my five-foot eleven-inch height. Becoming marriage material, so my father had told me far too many times. God! Why was the bastard entering my mind today of all days.
Because he can erode your self-confidence. That’s why.
Oh, groovy. Unacceptable.
She grabbed two kitchen towels, tossing me one. “I’m serious. You haven’t let down your hair in I don’t know how long.”
“Oh, I can tell you when. Since my ex almost fiancé was found fucking my three-year assistant on top of my desk. That’s when.”
Her glare returned. “You’re a glutton for punishment. Why not just claim yourself as a masochist and head to a BDSM club.”
“Um, no. Hell, no.”
“Well, you obviously like pain.”
“Let’s get back to ordering. This conversation is sinking rapidly.”
“There’s some truth. Anything else, Ms. Grouch?”
“How about a couple dozen assorted cookies. Make sure there’s chocolate involved.”
Her chuckle was deep and throaty. Everything about her was adorable and quite frankly irritating as hell. Maybe her five-foot two-inch frame and perfectly perky little nose had been the reasons she’d garnered the sexiest boyfriend turned dashing husband. No, definitely her perky tits. Now I was playing the green-eyed monster card. I’d sunk below low.
“Got it. I’ll make them extra yummy. Would you like me to throw in some very special brownies?”
“How special are we talking?”
“You know, a little green stuff in them?” She winked and I almost choked on another sip.
“Marijuana? You wouldn’t dare.” I acted horrified but secretly would love to do something so wicked.
She shrugged in her cute way, gathering up her ordering pad. “I dunno. I’m a bad girl, which is what you need to be. Now, come on, let’s go enjoy the wine before your guests arrive.”
“Thank God they’re not coming until Tuesday.”
“What about this weekend? Don’t you dare tell me you’re locking yourself in your house, reading a random romance novel that will have you in tears and eating not one but two cartons of ice cream.”
“Ouch. I’m not like that.” Guilty as charged. Ever since I’d seen my two exes together, I’d been a basket case about romance and men. Fuck them all.
“Uh-huh,” my bestie huffed, wagging her finger. “Tell me another lie.”
I grabbed the bottle and headed for the back door of the kitchen. “Fine. I’m venturing out so to speak. I’ve decided to have the place all to myself. Some time in the hot tub. Maybe a little wine. Making a fabulously delicious yet sinfully full of calories pasta meal and sleeping late every single day.”
“You bitch. You didn’t invite me?”
The look on her face was priceless. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you don’t talk about boys, or I’ll ask all kinds of private questions about your hunk of a man.”
As I threw open the door, she gave me the kind of look that could seduce a group of moose. “He is pretty hot. Sadly, I can’t make it this weekend. I was convinced to make a wedding cake at the last minute. Plus, my Danny boy has some pretty naughty plans late at night.”
“Rub it in. Will you? And you certainly know how to have a good time.”
“Girls always do. Tell me, what’s your perfect man? With that big brain of yours, I’m going to guess you prefer one of those ultra conservative types who drive a Mercedes, make more money than God, and take out the yacht on the weekend. Am I right?”
We headed for one of several pairs of Adirondack chairs right in front of the ocean, easing down just as the sun began to set. “Then you don’t know me very well at all, dear girl.”
“Then do tell.”
“I prefer bad boys. You know the kind. The ones with scruffy beards, and that look in their eyes like they could bite the head off bats and enjoy it. I want them as comfortable in faded but tight blue jeans and a muscle shirt as they are in a Gucci tuxedo. I don’t want yachting, maybe a catamaran in the Bahamas. I want a Harley-driving, truck-wheelin’ man with a rough voice like he’s had one too many cigarettes, hair that’s perpetually tousled, and completely dominating. A man who refuses to take no for an answer. All while being able to enjoy a nice glass of merlot and a section of brie cheese just prior to grilling a piece of filet to bloody rare. A killer marksman, unafraid of anything and anyone, a guy who makes danger and taking risks look delicious and sinful. And in bed, forget about it. I want a man willing to grab me around the throat, pin me against the wall, and fuck me like some primal beast. Yeah. That’s what I want.”
There was utter silence and I finally looked over at her.
“Careful. With your mouth open that way, you might catch flies.”
She sputtered and took a sip of wine, fanning her face. “Okay, girl. Sign me up. I’m getting a divorce.”
We both laughed, leaning back into the chairs.
Yeah, that was exactly what I wanted, not a pretty boy with perfect hair and a slick attitude. Now I just how to figure out where I could find one of those.
[divider]Chapter Three
Beckham
“What are you going to do about the studio?” Jeff asked. He was driving, tossing a look over his shoulder at me in the passenger seat.
“It’ll be rebuilt. What else? We have insurance.” I was leaning my elbow against the door, rubbing my finger back and forth across my bottom lip, still bothered by what we’d experienced. Killing the men had been all too easy, just like finding them had been. As if we’d been lured to the location.
Yes, we had the best informants in the business, but my instinct was screaming.
That usually meant violence would follow.
And that wasn’t good for anyone.
I was rarely wrong, my father often chiding me for nagging him. I had since I’d been a kid. My mother had always called it my sixth sense. My sister said I had precognitive powers. Whatever the case, even my skin was itching tonight. I glanced into the side mirror, loathing the fact we weren’t on a main road just yet. We’d flown into a small private airport we’d never used instead of driving the three hours.
Time had seemed of the essence, the folks at the tiny terminal more than helpful. That should have bothered me as well.
However, everything had gone as planned. We’d enjoyed a couple of drinks without incident, not a single person even looking at us crossly.
“What’s wrong?” Jeff asked quietly, acting as if he didn’t want to alarm the two soldiers in back.
“I don’t know. Just a feeling.”
“Shit. I know what that means.” He glanced into the rearview mirror, even speeding up. The road was curvy and within seconds, the tires squealed.
“No need to get us killed. We’ll get there.”
“Yeah, well, I took a different route on purpose just to be certain we weren’t followed. The bartender told me about it. A shortcut to the remote POS airport anyway.”
Jeff was a cautious man, which I appreciated. He was also a racecar worthy driver, the kind of man you wanted at the wheel in this kind of situation. I could no longer count how many times he’d saved my life just by knowing every route, every odd turn. And he could drive any vehicle as if he could corner them on rails.
I tried to get more comfortable in the rental vehicle, but the nagging refused to leave. “When we get back, I want a wide web tossed over the city and beyond. Someone heard or noticed something and they’re either too stupid or too afraid to come forward.” Nothing usually happened in my family’s town without one of us being notified.
People were scared of us. They knew what we were capable of. In turn for them looking the other way and remaining obedient, we’d uplifted the economy significantly, providing jobs to thousands of people. That in turn had driven the tourist faction up by two hundred percent. New Hampshire had become a destination.
For everyone to go silent collectively meant they were terrified. Of what and whom? I’d taken a photo of the branding marks, but so far had yet to find anything useful. It could be a new cartel or another organization, but it continued to bug me. The enemy soldiers had all been dressed alike, carrying the same weapons. Hell, they even looked alike, as if they were clones. It was ridiculous but noteworthy. I’d even called one of my brothers to try to check into whether there was a new group we should be worried about.
“Why hit the recording studio, boss?” James asked from the back.
“To make a statement that they could get to us any time and any way they wanted.” Which was true in my mind.
“Who are they? Any idea?” Camden threw in, although my guess is he already knew the answer.
“I wish I did.” I took a deep breath, glancing at my watch. It was already twilight, full darkness only minutes away. I hated flying at night. It had to do with a plane crash into the Atlantic when I’d been ten. It had taken me six years to get over the nightmares.
Jeff sucked in his breath minutes later, making an unexpected turn.
“What are you doing?” I pushed. “And where are we going?”
“See the headlights? I’m ensuring we aren’t being followed.”
I glanced into the passenger mirror before turning around. The driver was currently keeping a respectable distance, but we’d seen so few people on this road, I knew why he was concerned.
When the two of us noticed the driver also made the turn, I immediately pulled out my weapon.
“Shit. I might need to head into Camden,” Jeff growled at the same time I noticed the sign indicating we were a couple of miles away.
“Hey, my namesake,” Camden laughed from behind. “Story has it my parents conceived me in a quaint bed and breakfast right at the shore. Beautiful story.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you can show us around your spawning place another time.” There was no doubt the vehicle behind us was speeding up. So was Jeff, now flying around the curves.
I threw open the side compartment between the driver and passenger seats, finding what I was looking for. A single flashlight. “Slow down a little bit. I want to see what they do,” I told him.
“You sure, boss?” he barked.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I watched the side-view mirror carefully. Almost at the same time the driver slowed, as if he or she knew what speed we were going.
“It looks like your instincts were right. Shit.” Jeff slammed his hand against the steering wheel three times.
“Don’t break the rental car,” I grumbled. “Get ready just in case. I have a bad feeling things are about to get dicey.”
Everyone had a weapon in their hand and within seconds, the vehicle behind us was speeding up again. And wouldn’t you know it? Shots were fired.
“What the fuck?” James exclaimed.
Jeff swerved back and forth on the road, narrowly avoiding driving into a ditch. At least the bullets hadn’t penetrated the hull. The one real advantage of using our own vehicles was that a solid portion of each one had been made mostly bulletproof. That prevented a random strike in the middle of a beautiful afternoon. But getting a rental car was dicey as fuck and not something I liked to do.
Being shot at was something our family hadn’t experienced in a long time. Why now? We weren’t suddenly getting into the political arena. We were simply good folks trying to make a living. I was able to grin at the thought.
“Par for the course.” I unrolled the window, studying how fast the unwanted visitors were going. “Allow them to gain on us.”
“You like rolling the dice, boss man,” Jeff teased.
Yeah, I often did. The fact whoever the assailant was had managed to tail us meant they’d been watching us every step of the way. It was quite possible they’d been at the bar.
I shoved half my body out the window, pointing not only my weapon but the flashlight beam toward the driver.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
At least one bullet hit their vehicle, maybe two. The driver swerved as we’d done, and I noticed at least three people in the vehicle. Thankfully, the odds were in our favor. I fired off two more rounds as Jeff sped up then slowed down, just as he’d trained himself to do.
When I popped off three more shots, one hitting directly in the windshield, I hissed. But that’s the moment one of the bastards appeared from the passenger window. He had something in his hands.
I shifted the beam of light and groaned. “Speed up, Dale Earnhardt. Drive like the wind. When you manage to lose them for a second, find a place to pull over. Fast.”
“What?”
“Do it now!” The fuckers had a bazooka-style weapon, which would blow the SUV into a million pieces.
Jeff careened around a corner, flooring it to get some distance then heading off road. When he slammed on the brakes, there was a collective moan from two others in the vehicle. He went off road onto a gravel driveway. How the hell had the man seen it? I was just grateful he had.
“Get out. Get out. Get out!” I yelled, not wasting any time to throw open the doors. As soon as we all jumped out, I heard the whistling sound as the launch ensued.
We’d had not a second to spare, the missile hitting its target.
The explosion was immediate and powerful, pitching all four of us into the surrounding trees. I rolled several times, the flashlight flying from my fingers, before being slammed against a tree, jarred but completely in control of my senses. Thankfully, my weapon was still firmly planted in one hand. When I heard a screech of tires as the driver slammed to a stop, I did what I could to jerk to a standing position. “Kill the motherfuckers.”
Pain racked my body, but I refused to be held back, stumbling into the road along with at least two of my other men. The vehicle with the wretched bastards had flown past, skidding to a stop, their engine idling. I wasn’t in the mood to waste a single second. I held the weapon in both hands, taking long strides in the dark toward the assholes, not hesitating to fire at will.
So did Jeff and Camden, both my soldiers flanking my sides.
Camden was even more of an expert marksman than I was, firing off enough shots that within seconds the windshield had been completely shattered, the vehicle itself riddled in bullets.
There was no movement inside the vehicle from what I could tell but that meant shit to me. You never walked away from a man with a gun until you saw the whites of his eyes.
Refusing to back down, I advanced. As soon as I reached the oversized SUV, I threw open the driver’s door. That’s when I noticed blood covered the windshield, a large hole in the head of the man in the driver’s seat.
Camden threw open one of the other doors, checking the two men’s pulses.
“They’re dead,” he said. He had a flashlight of his own, shining the beam from one side of the vehicle to the other. “Same branding as the others. What the fuck is this shit?”
“What the fuck is that ticking sound?” Jeff asked.
This was likely just another lure to a fiery death.
I homed in on what he was talking about, half laughing. “Back away. The fucker is about to blow.” We ran in the opposite direction, but I stopped and turned back toward the spectacle seconds before another massive explosion rocked the countryside. I lifted my head, watching as the flames licked toward the star-filled sky.
“Jesus Christ. What the hell?” James asked as he finally lumbered beside me.
The entire night sky was lit up by the explosion, which allowed me to see the poor guy had blood covering half his face. It was impossible not to laugh. “It’s called a suicide mission.”
“Who the fuck does that?” he pressed.
“The practice was done all the time not so long ago,” Camden insisted. “They knew there was a chance they’d die.”
“Well, how the fuck are we going to get out of here?” Jeff snarled. “On top of this shit, there’s no phone reception.”
This was the epitome of being caught with my pants down. I’d grown far too cocky in my time on this earth, especially during the last few years of increasing wealth. I’d lived a posh life even by rich men’s standards, purchasing whatever toys I wanted on a whim.
Getting soft usually led to a higher chance of being killed. But something continued to nag at me. If the fuckers had wanted me dead, they seemed to have an endless supply of soldiers. Why not attack all at once?
They were probing me for weakness.
“We walk,” I told them. “We find a place to hole up for the night and regroup. Then we begin a hunt.”
[divider]
Kenya
I continued glaring at the sky even after the two bright orange balls had faded. Even though the property was surrounded by trees, the explosions had been powerful enough both had lit up the sky. Jesus. What the hell had gone on out there?
After taking another sip of wine, I adjusted the flow of bubbles and eased back against the hot tub’s side, trying to imagine what had caused the horrific gas explosion. How horrible for the people living or working there.
The community was small. We’d rally around whoever it was to try to help them as much as we could. That’s one reason I loved living in a small town. People cared, which was a far cry from living in New York where barely anyone knew your name and couldn’t give a shit if you were hit by a stray bullet on the street.
Considered a summer tourist spot, the locals hunkered down during the fall and winter months. That was why this late spring and summer was so important. I had to bank my proceeds because winter meant fewer tourists.
The one thing I didn’t like about living in a small town in the USA was that everyone knew everyone else’s business. The baskets and cookie plates had been nice when I’d arrived in town, but I’d quickly learned the oh-so nice neighbors were simply trying to get the scoop.
My scoop was easy, but not scandalous.
Well, at least it hadn’t been for the last few years and I refused to head back to the girl I’d once been. She was dead and buried.
Leave cheating boyfriend by the wayside—check.
Depart job that, while it had made me a lot of money, had been soulless—check.
Sell half my belongings, including the artsy-fartsy paintings I’d spent way too much money on—check and then some.
This was exactly where I was supposed to be.
To think the asshole of an ex had dared call me not once but three times.
Okay, it wasn’t just because he’d been calling to apologize or crying the blues because he was missing me. It had been all about the items belonging to him I’d made a point of taking with me when I moved.
Including his prized record collection that he’d insisted be stored at my place.
Wasn’t this far more luxurious than listening to his constant phone calls to his unscrupulous clients when we were supposed to have been out on a date?
Yep.
Hands down.
However, if I didn’t climb out of the hot water, I was going to turn into a prune. Laughing, I eased my almost empty glass of wine onto the small table before turning off the jets. As the whirling began to subside, I relished the crisp air hitting my half naked body and the quiet peacefulness the area offered.
Other than the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below, the serenity was amazing. I grabbed my towel, drying off as I took a few seconds to glance toward the churning ocean. Yes, I had to admit it. Life was good. And yes, I had wallowed in self-pity for a while after arriving, but I was finished with that shit. I was stronger than that. Time to take some risks for a change.
I grabbed the big fluffy robe I’d purchased just for use after enjoying the bubbly water and slipped into it. I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time and Janie was right. Second guessing myself wasn’t doing me any good. Besides, at this point it wasn’t necessary.
After turning off the spa altogether, tugging the cover over the top, I took a deep breath before grabbing my wine and heading inside.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I sensed something was off, my skin prickling because of it.
I wasn’t necessarily prone to premonitions, but this go-around, the creepy crawlies were definitely trying to tell me something.
Like I wasn’t alone.
Very carefully I placed the glass on the table before glancing around the entirety of the kitchen.
I’d even purchased a weapon, but this was a small town, for God’s sake. It’s not like I needed to always carry it around with me. Now, I regretted my decision. I was certain I’d locked the front door to keep unwanted potential guests from wondering in. I did get that from time to time. Had I left a window open? Was I losing my mind thinking someone was inside the house?
And if I grabbed a knife, brandishing it as I went to confront the possible unwanted guests, would I get a bad review on Yelp?
I silently laughed at the ridiculousness of my thoughts. Random ones usually formed when I was nervous. For some crazy reason, I felt as if I was prudent for feeling that way.
Trying to remain as quiet as a church mouse, I headed to the massive knife block. I wasn’t certain what I would do with the weapon other than brandishing it as if I knew what I was doing. However, it gave me an odd feeling of comfort the moment I had the solid wooden handle in my hand. I noticed my cell phone was exactly where I’d placed it. Snagging it with my other hand, I decided it was best holding off calling the police for now.
The last thing I wanted was to be known for being a crackpot. That wouldn’t bode well for obtaining new clients.
I tried to act as if I knew what it was like to be in stealth mode, moving slowly toward the main corridor attached to the foyer. Quivering, I held my breath as I walked toward the dining and living rooms. The massive dining room was equipped with several tables instead of one, a huge buffet filled in the morning with delicious foods for guests. There was no wayward homeless person or worse lurking inside.
When I heard something, a slight noise, I lost all hope I’d been losing my mind or hearing things. Now I was pissed. If some asshole had broken into my place of business, something I’d worked hard to improve, losing three months of my life to scrub and wash, decorate and design, I’d prosecute to the full extent of the law.
God help anyone who made a woman like me angry. The outcome was usually bloody. Sadly, I was shaking, the strangled breathing sounds slipping from my lips impossible to squelch. If the boogeyman was hiding in the living room, I was already a goner.
Yet I took what could be my last step inside and was immediately struck by the heavy load of testosterone in the room. Four gorgeous men were in position, three of them standing while the other appeared to be holding court in one of the leather chairs with a drink in his hand.
As if they owned the place.
Drinking my liquor from my bar that they obviously hadn’t paid for.
While their appearance was disturbing enough, I was strangely drawn to the man sitting in the chair, his stunning good looks almost as shocking as the smudges of smoke on all four men.
But the man seated was obviously the one in charge, as comfortable as could be after breaking into my place of business.
As the three standing men turned in my direction, my attention wasn’t drawn away from the gorgeous guy perched on his throne, my throne. With shaggy chocolate brown hair that appeared as if he’d just rolled out of bed, eyes the color of burnished whiskey, and a smile that could light the fires of every nun on the planet, he knew he was a charmer.
But that didn’t deter the facts.
“You must be the owner of this fine establishment,” leader boy said in a far too seductive voice that reminded me of refined velvet slipped over a leather sofa. The worst thing about the vision in front of me was that he had a weapon placed on his lap, easily accessible.
He wanted to ensure I knew he was in charge of the entire situation.
I gritted my teeth, giving him a nasty glare.
“I am and you boys are in the wrong place. I suggest you get out before I contact the police.” I held up my cell phone, waving it back and forth. Dumb idea. Really dumb. The biggest of the other three immediately moved in my direction, making a tsking sound as he removed the phone from my hand, snapping his hand around the other before I had a chance to stab him in the chest.
The dude was stronger than an ox, his grin positively evil.
When the leader finally stood, slipping the weapon into his suit jacket, I threw out a couple of curse words.
“You’re a fucking asshole son of a bitch if you think you’re going to get away with this.”
“Such a trashy mouth on a woman so beautiful.” His grin was even wider as he swaggered toward me. One of his other men took the drink from his hand as if on cue. As if leader boy was royalty or something.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing inside my bed and breakfast?” I demanded, although I had a feeling my bravado was going to be short lived.
He cocked his head, daring to finger my wet hair, flipping long strands back and forth.
I dared slap his arm and in the next two seconds, his massive hand was wrapped around my throat, the large man pushing me against the wall. I was trembling all over and I sensed the holier than thou asshole could tell it by the smile crossing his face.
He took a deep breath, lowering his head as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across my lower lip roughly. “I’ll put it to you this way. Consider the four of us guests for the evening.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
There was something so enticing and very dangerous about the laugh erupting from the very depths of his being. I could already read exactly what was on his mind and it angered me as much as the fact they’d broken in.
The unknown jerk believed I should bow to him.
“Let’s just say you won’t like what happens should you dare to refuse.”
Instead of shuddering in fear, which was obviously what he wanted me to do, I offered a bright, sunny smile.
Just seconds before I punched him hard in the gut, turning swiftly and racing from the room.
If the brutal men thought I was a pushover, they had another think coming.
My daddy had taught me well.
Always fight to win.
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