“Elle!” Mom yells after me.
I ignore her, run to the front door before I can talk myself out of it. I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. The shirt I picked out especially for this event, with little camera decals on the collar, and the pants I squeezed into, wondering if they were too tight, so excited, so hopeful. Then his note arrived, shattering all of it.
I run into the dark. Behind me, the porch light clicks on.
Lucian steps forward, tall, with a sharp jawline and arctic blue eyes. I remember thinking for a brief, ugly moment that he was handsome before he revealed who he really was. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
He stands next to Dad’s car, and its window is shattered.
“Get away from here,” I say, panic threatening to close my throat.
He tilts his head and smirks. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean it. Go!”
He laughs as I rush toward him. I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do. I just know this has to stop, that I hate myself for letting it go on for so long. And I hate that thought, that this ismyfault.
“Easy, tiger,” he snaps, punching me right in the face.
I fall, hit my head, and catch a brief glimpse of the stars before unconsciousness takes me.
When I wake, my life is over.
My mom is dead. My dad is dead.
Mira is a shell-shocked, dead-eyed version of the girl she used to be.
CHAPTER 1
RHETT
One Year Later
Iglance in the rearview mirror at the scumbag with his hands tied behind his back. I should stuff a rag in his mouth and duct-tape the bastard so I don’t have to listen to his complaining. But somehow, that feels like taking the easy way out.
I need to face what I’m doing. Face the man I’ve become.
The night closes in all around us. There are lots of roads out in Gunnison Peaks, lots of mountains, lots of places to hide.
The man in the backseat has beenrecruitinggirls and women into hisbusiness.
“How long do you think I’ll get?” he says, running his tongue over chapped lips. He’s in his mid-thirties, but you wouldn't be able to tell by his raggedy mop of greasy hair, faded tattoos covering his hands, arms, and neck, just about visible under layers of dirt.
I say nothing, just take another turn. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel as the urge to bust his mouth wide open grips me.
“They picked me up before, you know, big man,” he goes on. “So, you can spare me the wannabe strong-silent crap. Because it ain’t going to mean a damn thing when this is all said and done. You’re not the hero in this story.”
I almost laugh. He’s not wrong there. There are no heroes in this story.
I stopped believing in knights in shining armor when I left the police force. When I realized that the law wasn’t going to handle what needed to be handled,howit needed to be handled.
“What’s the score, eh? You angry because I didn’t offer you some? I’ve got any type of girl, man. Anything you want.”
My teeth hurt from grinding. That’s just one of the prices I pay for living this new life. Doing what I do. Taking out the trash, so to speak.
He’s quiet for a while. Shuddering as he rests his face against the window and stares out at the total darkness.
“Didn’t know there was a police station all the way out here,” he mutters.
