Broken Trust: Dark Legacy book 2

by James Tate

  Broken Trust

  Dark Legacy book 2

  Tate James

  Jaymin Eve

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  7. Beck

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  13. Beck

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  20. Beck

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Also by the authors

  Author Links

  Jaymin Eve & Tate James

  Broken Trust: Dark Legacy book 2

  Copyright © Jaymin Eve & Tate James 2019

  All rights reserved

  First published in 2019

  Eve, Jaymin

  James, Tate

  Broken Trust: Dark Legacy #2

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  To all the fucked up girls who love fucked up boys.

  This is for you.

  1

  I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands trembled to the point where my toothbrush clicked against my teeth as I tried to brush them.

  It had been eight hours since I’d shot a man in the head.

  Eight fucking hours since my entire life was ripped to shreds.

  Again.

  Losing my parents was still the worst moment of my existence, but the betrayal of Beck, Dylan, Evan, and Jasper ranked a close second.

  “You okay?” Dante asked, perched in the bathroom doorway. He still looked rough, but I’d patched up most of his injuries, and in general, he was dealing much better than me. We were back in his Jersey apartment. I’d taken his car—which had been out in the woods, after he was lured there by Beck—and then driven at stupid speeds all the way back here.

  Spitting out the paste, I rinsed my mouth. “No. Just … not fucking okay.”

  He moved closer, and when his image joined mine in the mirror, it was clear how much paler than normal I was. Dante had bronzed, inked-all-over skin, and I looked like I’d never seen sun in my life.

  “The first kill is always the hardest, Riles. Give yourself time.”

  Bile rose in my throat, and I tried to swallow, but everything burned.

  “I … I don’t even want to touch that statement,” I told him hoarsely. “But I have to ask … have you actually killed someone before? More than one someone?”

  I turned my back on the mirror—it was revealing way too much of my pain and sadness, and I wanted to properly see Dante’s face when he answered.

  He examined my features, like he was searching for something, before he nodded, expression serious. “Yes. I have.”

  A huge gust of air burst from me, and I clenched my fists to stop them from shaking.

  Dante continued. “I should have told you earlier—I’m a little more involved in the gang life than I’ve previously let on. I was trying to keep you out of danger. Funnily enough, the Grims were the least of my worries when it came to you.”

  I wanted to laugh, because it was ironically funny, but I just didn’t have the heart for any emotion like that.

  “What are you going to do?” Dante asked me softly, the green of his eyes darkening as anger filled them. “This is a fucked up situation, Riles, and while I will help in any way I can...”

  He trailed off because we both knew there was really nothing he could do to help me.

  I shrugged. “They own me now, so I have to play the game.”

  Beck and the others had made that perfectly clear. There was only one way out. My brother, Oscar, had taken that route, but I was not at that place yet.

  “And Beck?” Dante asked, and I was surprised that he didn’t sound as fucked off as he usually did when mentioning the heirs. “What are you going to do about him?”

  Laughter finally burst from me, harsh and cynical. “Beck is dead to me. He used me. Made me care about him. All the time he’s been playing the long game for Delta. If I knew any of this shit was coming, I would have bailed long ago and just kept running for the rest of my life.”

  Now I had blood on my hands. I was trapped.

  That knowledge made it hard to breathe.

  “One day you will control a portion of the most powerful company in the world,” Dante reminded me. “You can make them all pay then.”

  I nodded, having already thought about that myself. It was my most fervant hope that one day they would regret inviting me into their world. I just had to figure out how to do it all without getting Dante killed. He was the one person I still trusted and loved. Even Eddy was iced from my life now.

  Dante and I crawled into his bed, and I put the television on. Silence was the enemy, and thoughts had to be banished before I lost my mind. Snuggling down into the familiar sheets, breathing in the familiar scent, I could almost pretend for a moment that my life hadn’t completely gone to shit.

  “You know you can stay here as long as you need,” Dante said sleepily, turning on his side to see me better. “But what are the odds that Delta won’t hunt you down?”

  I wished I could just stay here forever. With Dante. And pretend the rest of those fuckers didn’t exist. Dante was right though, they were never going to let me fade away. The entire fucking point of me shooting a man was to have leverage to hold over my head.

  “Like I said, they own me now, but I’m going to make it as difficult as I can for them,” I decided, pushing my hair back so it was across the pillow.

  Dante reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently before he rolled back the other way and almost instantly fell asleep.

  Bastard had always been able to do that.

  Meanwhile, every single time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the jerking of the Huntley dude’s head when the bullet went through. The spatter of his blood as it coated so much of the room behind him. The thud as the gun slipped from my hands and hit the ground. Beck’s face as he lowered his own weapon, freeing Dante.

  Those images were permanently branded in my brain. On my soul.

  “You want something to help you sleep?” Dante murmured, not quite asleep like I’d thought.

  I shook my head. As badly as I wanted oblivion, I was scared to let myself be vulnerable again. Drugs or alcohol were going to be a rare occurrence in my life, because this new world I was part of was dangerous and cut throat.

  Dante’s breathing got really deep, and I was relieved that he was finally resting. He had so many injuries, sleep was the best thing for him. Meanwhile, I continued to stare at the ceiling, too tired to even cry.

  My heart hurt so badly, like the fucking thing had been stabbed and was slowly dying. It was so much more than the fact I’d had to kill someone. I’d lost four guys wh
o I’d been counting as friends … as more than friends. Family.

  My phone lit up again from the bedside table, and I ignored it. It had been going off all night, messages and calls, over and over, non-stop, until eventually Dante suggested I turn it off. I couldn’t bring myself to do that; instead, I put it on silent and just left it there to torture myself.

  I wanted so badly to know what they were saying. So badly.

  But I was too angry.

  A loud banging on the door had me jumping about a foot in the air. Looking over, I was surprised to see Dante remained sound asleep. He desperately needed it, so I didn’t wake him. Stumbling out of bed, I pulled the shirt down from where it had crept up. I wore only Dante’s shirt and some clean panties that I’d thankfully left here and he’d washed for me.

  Creeping out of the bedroom, I tiptoed through his living room and stood behind the door.

  Somehow, before they even spoke, I knew who was out there. I could feel that energy they carried, like an extra spark or presence that most people didn’t have.

  “Butterfly, I know you’re in there.” Beck’s low voice drifted through to me.

  I dropped my head against the wood, and the tears which had been absent since I’d taken someone’s life finally appeared.

  “Please open the door,” Dylan added.

  “Go away,” I whispered, exhaustion and tears choking my words. “Just leave me alone.”

  Please. I was silently begging.

  “We want to explain,” Jasper said, and his voice was rough, “We … we can’t have this conversation out in the hall.”

  Anger rose up in me at their pleading tones. “That’s not my problem, Jasper,” I snapped. How dare they? How dare they try and guilt me into forgiving them after what they’d just forced me to do. “Fuck off. All of you. You’re dead to me.”

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, fighting against the hot tears which spilled down my cheeks regardless. I couldn’t deal with them right now. Not when their betrayal was so fresh.

  There was a long pause, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d left.

  “Butterfly.” Beck exhaled heavily and there was a wooden thump like his forehead was pressed to the other side of the door like mine was. “That’s not how this works. You’re one of us now, for better or worse.”

  The matter-of-fact cast to his words boiled my fury higher, and I embraced it. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but once again, I found myself much preferring to welcome the anger than dwell on the pain.

  Clenching my teeth, I stepped back and whipped the door open so quickly Beck almost tumbled into the room. Off balance, he staggered back a few steps then glared at me in confusion.

  “What the fuck, Butterf—”

  “Stop.” My voice was like ice, and I blocked the doorway, making it clear they weren’t welcome to enter. “Never call me that again. I am not some fragile bug with pretty wings for you to pull off.” I cast a disgusted look at Beck—desperately ignoring the pangs of agony in my chest when I noticed the dark pain etched across his face. It was just easier not to look at him, so I whipped my furious, sickened eyes over the other three.

  “You got what you needed. My shackles are locked down and filed away in your revolting vault, so let’s cut the bullshit. You used me. You deliberately formed this … fucked up bond between us, all so I wouldn’t question shit until it was too late.”

  Tears choked me and I swallowed past them, grasping onto that burning hot anger.

  “I’ll do what’s required as a Delta successor, but nothing more. We’re not friends, and we’re certainly not…” The words stuck in my throat and my gaze involuntarily returned to Beck. His broad chest heaved as he sucked a deep breath to speak, and I held up a palm to silence him even as my gaze dropped to the ground. “Like I said, you’re dead to me. Lose my number, I’ll see you at the next forced Delta meeting.”

  I stepped back, grabbing the door and slamming it in their sorry faces before any of them could find the words to respond. Or maybe they just had nothing to say. My days of naively believing they were good people—that they were just the product of their upbringing—were done. Those four had played me like the pawn they’d first accused me of being, and I felt nothing but shame and betrayal for it.

  My shaking fingers flipped the six deadbolts closed and I stepped back into Dante’s warm embrace. I didn’t know how long he’d been there, but the second his arms closed around me it was like the floodgates opened. My whole body shook with sobs as I buried my face in his bandaged chest, and he just stood there stroking my hair. Exactly the pillar of strength I needed when my whole world was crumbling around me.

  2

  Every day, one of the guys showed up outside Dante’s apartment building. It started the morning after they’d shown up to “apologize” and I’d slammed the door in their lying faces. Dylan appeared in the doorway of the walk up across the road. I spotted him from the window as I brushed my teeth and flipped him off. He’d just folded his arms, leaned on the wall, and grinned at me.

  The next day was Evan. The next was Jasper.

  The whole time I stayed at Dante’s they maintained this routine. Watching me… Like I was a flight risk. They weren’t wrong. Not a day passed that I didn’t think about the fake IDs in Richard Deboise’s office. But if I fled … what would happen to Dante? To Eddy? Not to mention the worry that those IDs wouldn’t work now that they had video footage of me murdering someone? My face wasn’t going to change.

  I was fucking trapped.

  “Who’s on guard duty today?” Dante asked as I stood at the living room window, staring out absentmindedly while my fingers tangled in the dirty, off-white net curtain. His words startled me, and I jumped slightly as I turned to face him.

  He was holding out a mug of coffee and I took it from him with a grateful smile. “Um, Dylan, again.”

  Dante quirked a brow and leaned past me to peer out the window. He would see exactly what I’d just been staring down at. Dylan, in his usual spot, sitting on the steps of the old, abandoned laundromat across the road.

  Dante gave a sarcastic little finger wave, and I didn’t bother looking to see what Dylan’s reaction was. As if Delta taking Dante, beating him half to death, then holding a gun to his head wasn’t bad enough, now they were stalking us.

  “Still no Beckett, huh?” My best friend said the words lightly, but I didn’t miss the intense way he watched me when we made our way over to the couch.

  I shrugged, like it didn’t tear me up inside that Dylan, Evan, and Jasper had been outside—watching me—every damn day, but not once had Beck showed up. “Why should he do his own dirty work?” I murmured with a scathing edge.

  Dante’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white on his mug, but I was too exhausted to press him for what he was thinking. Probably about how Beck had personally broken three of his ribs and he’d like to return the favor. I wouldn’t mind lending a hand.

  “Riles,” he started, but stopped when his phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table. Mine had run out of battery days ago and I just hadn’t bothered to charge it. What was the point?

  Dante picked up his device and scowled at the screen before answering the call.

  “Catherine,” he drawled, making eye contact with me as he spoke, “How lovely to hear from you. We wondered how long it would take.”

  I gave him frantic what the fuck are you doing faces, but he shrugged and clicked the call to speaker phone just in time for me to catch my birth-mother’s chilling response.

  “Tell my daughter that she’s expected to return to school tomorrow morning, or we will take action. I have been more than lenient, but enough is enough. This little temper tantrum has gone on long enough.”

  I scoffed a humorless laugh. “Or fucking what, bitch? You’ll turn in that little snuff film to the police? All because I won’t go to school? Fuck off.”

  Catherine laughed then, and it was one of the coldest sounds I’d ever heard. “You thin
k that’s our only card to play? Your stupidity astounds me, girl.”

  I met Dante’s eyes over the phone he held between us, and ice formed in my belly. They’d already beaten him, and threatened to shoot him… Was there more? Maybe I was underestimating Delta.

  “Here’s what will happen,” Catherine continued, her tone icy and uncaring. “You’ll attend Ducis Academy, just like the good little Deboise heir that you are. You’ll excel in classes, you’ll keep your head down, and you’ll stay out of trouble. When we require you to act in Delta’s interests, you’ll do so without question or argument. In return, I’ll allow you to live outside the Delta compound. Stewart will source a suitable apartment for you, because frankly I’m sick of having you under foot.”

  I spluttered in confusion. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I will personally break one of Edith Langham’s fingers every day until you comply. It’s your choice.” She hung up then, and I scrambled off the couch. I just barely made it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach began emptying into the porcelain bowl, hot tears stinging my eyes and streaming down my face as I sobbed and vomited.

  Dante crouched beside me, his gentle hand stroking my hair out of my face and just being there for me. He always had been, but since Beck—and the guys—betrayed me, I was appreciating just how much Dante cared for me.

  “They’re fucking twisted,” I croaked, after wiping my mouth on the wet washcloth he handed me. My whole body was trembling, and Dante just gathered me up in his arms, pulling me into his lap despite his own injuries.