JACKSON

by Davis, Siobhan

  “Where are we going?” I ask when Jackson veers left instead of taking the exit on our right, the one that will take us back home. “I called Ruth before we left Rydeville, and she’s agreed we can take the twins out for dinner.”

  I have as little involvement with my mother as possible these days. After learning how she threw me under the bus, I never want to see her face again. But I love my sister and brother, and I need them in my life. Jackson is the go-between, and he handles all communications with the woman formerly known as my mother. He established a weekly visitation schedule, and the twins stay with us one weekend a month. We either come up to the city and stay at Hunt’s penthouse with them or they stay with us at the house in Rydeville.

  My heart swells to bursting point. I stretch across the console and plant a big smacker on his lips. “You are the most considerate husband ever.”

  His lips curve up at the corners. “Does that mean I don’t have to beat on Kalvin Kennedy’s ass the next time I see him?” he teases.

  I swat his arm. “You know the only man for me is you, but I still have eyes in my head. He’s hot. All those Kennedys are, but no one is hotter or sexier than you.”

  “You better believe it, babe.” He waggles his brows. “And in case you need further demonstration, I’ll prove it tonight.”

  Heat pools in my belly, and I squirm on my seat. “Now, I’m imagining all kinds of things.”

  “Wear your heels. We can role play again.”

  I swat his arm again. “Stop it! Now, I’m going to be sitting in a puddle of my own making the entire way through dinner.”

  “My devious plan worked,” he quips, pulling up at the curb outside Mom’s house.

  “Why are we stopping here?” I ask, wondering why he’s not driving up the driveway.

  “Because I have something I need to say.” He takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles.

  Worry furrows my brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” Unbuckling my seat belt, he hauls me over onto his lap. “For the first time in a long time, I’m happy, truly happy, and that is all thanks to you.”

  “Ditto, lover.” I run my hands through his gorgeous, soft hair. “Thank you for loving me, Jackson. Thank you for giving me this life we live.”

  He brushes his lips against mine. “It’s I who should be thanking you for showing me how to live. For showing me how to love. With you by my side, I feel like I can conquer anything.”

  I circle my arms around his neck. “Together we’re invincible, and it will remain like that until the end of time.”

  “I love the sound of that.” He kisses that sensitive spot just under my ear and I shiver. “And I love you. Now and forever.”

  Sawyer

  My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I groan when I see the name flashing on the screen. I’ve been dodging Dad’s calls all week. Is it too much to ask to enjoy spring break without some family interference? I have a feeling I know why he’s calling, hence my hesitation to pick up. But I get my stubborn streak from my father, and I know he won’t give up until he’s said his piece, so I reluctantly accept his call.

  “Finally. I was about to send out a search party,” Dad deadpans.

  “What’s up, old man?” I work hard to keep my tone lighthearted.

  “I need another favor.”

  Another groan rips from my mouth. “Dad.” My tone carries warning.

  “Don’t Dad me.” I can visualize Ethan Hunt pacing the floor of his office with a scowl on his face. “I don’t ask much of you, son, but I need your help with this.”

  “You said it was one time.”

  “And that was enough back then when we were courting several partners, but things have changed, and it’s become more pressing.”

  “Why?” I ask, dropping onto the couch with a sigh.

  “For reasons I’m not at liberty to disclose just yet, the other parties have pulled out, leaving Shaw Software as the only contender for the merger.”

  “I still don’t get why you want to merge with another tech company. Your new security products are going to blow that market wide-open. Stock prices will shoot through the roof. Why share the profits with another company?”

  “We need the investment capital,” he says, in a clipped tone. “And this isn’t up for debate. Keeping Herman Shaw on our side is mission critical. By all accounts, Sydney Shaw was very taken with you, and Herman approves. You know how concerned he’s been over his only daughter. He thinks you’re a good influence on her, and it’s been suggested you take her out again.”

  “Fuck, Dad, no. I’ll do anything to help, but not that.”

  I’m lucky Xavier never found out about my date with Sydney the last time. Actually, luck had nothing to do with it. I made sure nothing leaked, because I didn’t want to hurt him. I bought every single photo taken of me with the Shaw heiress at The Met that night and wiped every mention of it online.

  I probably should’ve told Xavier, but we weren’t even officially seeing one another, and he’s a total drama queen at the best of times. I know he would’ve made a big deal out of it. With all the other shit I had on my plate at the time, I didn’t want the additional stress, so I said nothing. Quietly took the girl out and promptly forgot our date. It’s not like I wanted to be there or it meant anything to me. Jackson is the only other person who knows, and that’s because the asshole eavesdropped on a call with my dad and overheard the whole thing.

  But things are different now. While Xavier and I still aren’t official, things are more serious between us. I shouldn’t have let it get this far, because there is no scenario where it ends well, but I can’t turn back the clock.

  Truth is, I have strong feelings for the guy. Even though he irritates the fuck out of me half the time, I care about him, and this would hurt him.

  “I’m not asking, Sawyer,” Dad says, using that assertive tone he deploys when he wants to get his own way. “It’s already agreed. You’re taking her out Saturday night. Herman is expecting you at eight o’clock sharp.”

  “I have plans,” I hiss between gritted teeth.

  “Unmake them,” he shouts. “This is more important. Our entire future is hanging on the line, son. This merger needs to happen, or everything I’ve worked for is lost.”

  I’m wondering if Dad’s been taking lessons in melodrama from my lover. “Let’s not overreact.”

  “Do you think I’d be forcing you into this if I had any other choice?!” he roars down the line. “Stop being a selfish punk, and think of your mother. God, anyone would think Sydney Shaw was an ogre. She’s a beautiful, highly educated woman. It’s not a hardship.”

  “One date,” I growl.

  “It will be as many dates as are necessary,” he says in a more even-keeled voice, having calmed his temper. “Your mother and I will see you for dinner on Sunday, and I expect a full report. Enjoy your date,” he adds before hanging up.

  “Motherfucker!” Frustration wells inside me, and I throw my cell across the room, before burying my head in my hands. What the fuck am I going to do now?

  ***

  Sawyer is a standalone MMF romance set in my Rydeville Elite world, coming 2021. Available to preorder now – check your local Amazon store.

  Want to read the details of Nessa and Jackson’s Las Vegas elopement? Click here to download the bonus chapter or copy and paste this link into your browser: https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/mgzktLwA

  New to the series? Check out Cruel Intentions or The Rydeville Elite Box Set to read Abby and Kai’s romance.

  Want to sink your teeth into another dark romance? Check out Resurrection, the first book in my new The Sainthood series. Turn the page to read a sample.

  Want to read more about Selena, Keanu, Keven, Kalvin, and all the Kennedys? Check out Finding Kyler, book one in the series, or Releasing Keanu, Selena and Keanu’s standalone second chance romance.

  Both are available exclusively on Amazon, and FREE to read in Kindle Unlimited.


  ★☆ AN AMAZON TOP 50 BESTSELLER ★☆

  Everything changed the night my dad died.

  The night I met Saint, Galen, Caz, and Theo.

  Those manipulative a-holes set out to ruin me after our hot night together, but they didn’t realize you can’t destroy something that’s already broken. And it only works if the victim cares.

  Which I don’t.

  Because I’ve been in hell for years, and nothing penetrates the steel walls I’ve erected.

  Until The Sainthood decides I belong to them and cracks appear in my veneer. Their cruel games, harsh words, and rough touch awakens something inside me, and now, I’m in trouble.

  They draw me deeper into their dangerous world, until I’m in the middle of all the violence and gang warfare, tangled up in all the secrets and lies, and there’s no turning back.

  Because they own me.

  And nothing has ever felt so right.

  I’m exactly where I should be.

  But with enemies on all sides, survival becomes a deadly game with no guarantees.

  And, sometimes, saints become sinners.

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  RESURRECTION PROLOGUE

  Spring Break before Senior Year

  SHARP PAIN PENETRATES my chest cavity, aiming straight for my heart, like a thousand tiny pinpricks digging into smooth flesh.

  He’s gone.

  Left this world without any warning.

  And I’ll never see him again.

  It hurts, and the pain wants to embed deep. To burrow straight through to my soul. To inflict the worst damage imaginable. The pain pushes and pokes at soft tissue, but it’s no good. It won’t advance any further. Because I learned to lock that shit up when I was thirteen years old.

  I grab the bottle of vodka from the empty passenger seat of my Lexus SUV, uncapping the lid and bringing the glass to my lips. I chug it like it’s water, feeling lost as the alcohol glides down my parched throat.

  This car was the last gift he bought me, a couple months ago, as an early eighteenth birthday present. It’s an LX570 SUV with bullet-resistant glass, an explosion-mitigating floor, and a bunch of other protective features I considered way over the top.

  But maybe, there was a reason for it.

  The car swerves on the road as I take another mouthful of vodka. The approaching car flashes its lights, the driver angrily shaking his fist as he passes by. I shove up my middle finger, hissing under my breath, even if he’s right.

  The car swerves again as I close the vodka bottle, tossing it back on the seat. I don’t care if I die, but it wouldn’t be fair to Mom to lose her loving husband and her only daughter on the same day, both from fatal car accidents. I grip the wheel tighter, my eyes stinging with tears that will never fall.

  A few minutes later, the car screeches to a halt outside Darrow’s dilapidated house. I jump out, leaving the door open, and race up the overgrown driveway. I raise my fist to knock, but the door swings open before my knuckle makes contact with the worn wood.

  “He’s not here,” Rita drawls, bobbing her six-month-old son on one hip while she noisily chews gum. Her gaze rakes over me from head to toe, her lips curling into a sneer at my school uniform. The white knee-length socks, black pleated skirt, white shirt, red and black tie, and red blazer edged in black trim with the school crest confirm my status as a private academy student.

  Although, Rita is already aware of that.

  It’s one of the reasons why she hates my fucking guts.

  The other is because I’ve been screwing her precious brother for the past six months.

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m not Darrow’s keeper.” She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. Her son emits a loud wail, his lower lip trembling as he cries out. Poor kid is probably hungry, and judging by the bulky diaper he’s wearing, I’m guessing he needs changing too. He shivers, the cool night air swirling around his naked flesh. “Shut your mouth,” Rita snaps, glaring at the innocent child, and the baby cries louder.

  Bile floods my mouth, and adrenaline charges through my veins. She’s such a lousy mother, and I don’t get it. Why is it that good couples, with the disposition and means to raise kids in a loving environment, struggle to conceive while this junkie gets knocked up without even trying? Where is the justice in that? My heart aches for that kid. What kind of future awaits him with a mother like that? I know Darrow has pulled her up on her shit before, but he’s rarely home, and it’s not like he can do much.

  Grabbing a hundred-dollar bill from my purse, I thrust it at her. “I know you don’t like me, and I really don’t care. But I know you know where he is. Tell me, and it’s yours.”

  Her scowl deepens, and I know she wants to tell me to screw off. But she needs the money more. She snatches it from my hand like a greedy shrew. “He’s partying at Galen Lennox’s place.”

  Shit.

  I arch a brow, waiting for her to elaborate, but her lips pinch closed. “And where is that?” I prompt, biting back a frustrated sigh. Bitch knows I’m from Lowell, the next town over. That I don’t attend Prestwick High with my boyfriend—her brother. And even though I have a suspicion where that asshole lives, I don’t have time to waste driving aimlessly around town if I’m wrong.

  She thrusts her palm out, and I grind my teeth. If it wasn’t for the baby in her arms, I’d punch her in her heavily made-up face and demand an address. But she is holding her son, so I’m forced to play nice. I slap a twenty into her hand, daring her to challenge me with a deadly look. Mood I’m in, I’ll come back and pummel her ass to dust just for shits and giggles. We enter into a silent face-off, and I keep my eyes locked on hers, refusing to back down.

  She folds first, bouncing the baby up and down as he continues to cry. “Forty-one Thornton Heights.”

  She moves to shut the door in my face, but I plant my foot in the doorway, stopping her from closing it. “Don’t shove it all up your nose. Buy your son some clothes and formula. I’ll be mentioning this to Darrow.”

  “Fuck off, slut. Mind your own goddamned business.” She kicks my foot away, and the door slams shut.

  I head back to my car, plug the address in, and set off for Galen Lennox’s place.

  I know who he is.

  Everyone does.

  Because The Sainthood is revered around these parts.

  The organization is one of the oldest criminal enterprises in the US, with chapters in most states, but the gang started in Prestwick, and it’s the largest branch with the most power.

  It’s split into two levels—junior and senior. The junior chapter controls the schools and teen drug supply and generally lays down the law among their peers until the members successfully pass initiation and “jump in.” Then they become members of the senior or main organization, and successors take over their crown at the junior level. Typically, the transition occurs once the members graduate high school.

  All the local gangs are structured similarly, and regular crew wars are the norm. The Sainthood are known rivals of The Arrows, the crowd Darrow runs with, and I’m guessing Dar’s presence at this party is a way of pissing The Sainthood off. While Darrow has Prestwick High locked up tight, The Sainthood rules the hallways at Prestwick Academy, and they own the streets. The Arrows are small fry, and Dar despises The Sainthood because they have what he wants—control, respect, loyalty, and fear.

  I could do without this tonight, but I need the distraction of sex and alcohol more, so I drive toward the nicer part of Prestwick where Galen Lennox lives.

  Bile fills my mouth as I pull up in front of the familiar house. Cars, trucks, and bikes are parked haphazardly across the wide front lawn as I drive up the sweeping driveway. I pull into an empty space in front of the monstrous gray brick two-story building and kill the engine. Swiping the bottle of vodka from the passenger seat, I hop out and head toward the open front door.

  Chills creep over my spine as I step foot into
the gloomy hallway. A massive chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting dim light over the marble tile floor below. Mahogany stairs extend upward on either side of the lobby, the steps covered in a drab green carpet that has clearly seen better days. Cobwebs cling to the high ceilings and cornices, and a thin layer of dust obscures the pictures of ancestors covering the walls as I walk toward the sound of the thumping music.

  My heels make a clacking sound as I walk through the depressive corridor decorated in dark wood panels and dull green and gold wallpaper. I remember how creeped out I was the first time I was here, but it’s worse now with the added obvious neglect. I pass a succession of tall, mahogany-stained doors, all closed with no sounds of life, so I continue toward the music.

  Reaching the end of the hallway, I turn left and head straight for party central.

  I step into the vast room, glancing at the vaulted ceilings adorned with expensive chandeliers and the myriad of windows draped in heavy ruby-red velvet curtains. A DJ spins tunes from an elevated dais at the end of the room, but other than that, the room is completely bare of furnishings. At one time, this was an ornately decorated ballroom, host to lavish parties that were the talk of the town, but it’s clear no one is looking after this place anymore.

  A large crowd dances on worn hardwood floors while others sit in clusters on the ground at the edge of the room, talking, laughing, smoking, and drinking. I inhale the scent of weed as I walk through the space, keeping my eyes peeled for Darrow, but I don’t spot him or any of his crew.

  Exiting the ballroom by the rear door, I head outside. Sounds of laughter filter through the air as I step around the outside of the property toward the back patio. My feet slam to a halt at the sight of the overgrown maze, and I allow my mind to wander back to that night. I was only a kid, which is why I didn’t recognize the address even if I remember every other detail of my last visit here.