Fearless (Broken Love Book 5)

by B. B. Reid

  For two days, I watched the home and the family that lived inside. On the third day, when I memorized their routine, I decided to move in. I knew at this time, the woman who lived inside would be getting ready to take her night shift while her husband gave into a drunken night of sleep and the two young girls slept.

  When her back was turned, I muffled the scream that would come and whispered, “I’m going to move my hand. Don’t scream and don’t run.” I felt her nod and ignored the guilt at the tremble of her thin frame.

  “Wh–who are you.” She fumbled over her words as she retreated. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder toward the house.

  “That’s not important.”

  “I think it is,” she countered, keeping her voice low as if she were the intruder. “You’re creeping around my yard in the middle of the night, young man.”

  If this weren’t such a high-risk situation, I would have laughed at her need to scold an intruder. “A few months ago, you saw a girl at the facility you work for.”

  “I see many young girls. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “A resident was murdered that same day, and you’re going to testify against this girl in the murder case.”

  The grave recognition in her eyes was telling. “Y—yes. I remember. I saw her there the day he was murdered. I’m only giving my recount.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’re not going to testify.” Confusion twisted her expression that quickly turned to fear.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No.” I could tell by her deepening frown that I only added to her confusion.

  “Are you here to kill me?”

  “I won’t kill you.”

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I’m here to make you an offer.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  I was growing tired of this chain of questioning. “You won’t.”

  “I’m sorry, but I won’t lie to the police for a perfect stranger.”

  “What about for your life and that of your two little girls tucked inside? They aren’t safe.”

  “Don’t touch my little girls.”

  “I have no intention of hurting them or you, but can your husband say the same?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of answering, I lifted her arm, ignoring her flinch, to push up her shirtsleeve and reveal the bruising on her arm. “He beats you, and you let him.”

  “I don’t let him.”

  “You haven’t left either.”

  “It’s not that simple. He’s only like this because he lost his job and hasn’t been able to get another one. He used to be so kind and loving.”

  “The day you get a clue might be the day it’s too late.”

  “Young man, I won’t explain my life to a stranger.”

  “So let the priest who barely knew you tell your story at your funeral.”

  She gasped and shrunk back and suppressed the temptation to roll my eyes. “You’re very cruel for one so young.”

  “You have no idea about cruelty. I do. Cruelty would be reporting you and your husband to Child Protective Services so they can find the bruises he leaves on them and take your daughters away for child endangerment.”

  She grabbed onto my shirt. “Don’t. Please.”

  “And just when you think your nightmare couldn’t go on, I’d kill your alcoholic, abusive husband in his sleep and leave you to find him in the morning when you return from the job that feeds his habit.”

  Her pleas turned into deep sobs as she sunk to the ground. I wouldn’t kill her, and I meant it, but I would take everything from her to keep Lake. I helped the emotional woman to her feet and held her against my chest to keep her stable and waited until she calmed.

  She hiccupped and looked up to meet my hard gaze. “What is your offer?”

  I shrugged to mask unwanted sympathy and said, “A new life.”

  “How can I escape his one?” Her frightened eyes shifted toward the house, and I felt my jaw harden. She was terrified of the man who victimized her instead of protected her. Maybe my anger was because when I looked at her, I didn’t see the abused wife and mother of two, but the scared, innocent I did everything I could to hurt.

  “I’ll handle him.”

  “I—I don’t want you to kill him,” she pleaded. I felt my lip curl with disgust at the thought of her protecting him.

  “Does he hit your girls, too?” She blinked away tears and looked away. “Lie to me and this won’t end in your favor. Has. He. Hit. Them?”

  She finally nodded once. It was so quick that if I blinked, I would have missed it. She then released a sound similar to that of a wonder animal. “H—he doesn’t beat them like he beats me, but he can be so rough with Maddie. She’s only four and doesn’t understand sometimes—”

  She stopped short at the colorful words that escaped me into the night air. She shrunk back completely, allowing me to catch my reflection of rage in the car window behind her.

  Her youngest was only four?

  Fuck. Ken.

  She was Ken’s age.

  Fuck…

  He was going to die whether she liked it or not.

  “You and your kids are out of here tonight.”

  * * *

  John had invested a large portion of his capital into a housing development for leasing. Keenan oversees it while I chose to remain detached from anything that had belonged to John. My name was listed as fifty percent beneficiary, but I never kidded myself into believing I was entitled to any of it. If Lake hadn’t unknowingly pushed me into a corner, I would have never made use of it.

  “So what do you like to do for fun?”

  I suppressed a groan, ignored the tiny voice, and continued to install the security system. I didn’t like this shit. Turns out, Laurie’s older daughter was ten and not as impartial to boys as I would have assumed. She had been following me around for two days with wide eyes and a girlish blush.

  She was the one hitting on me, yet I felt like the pedophile.

  “Go away.”

  “Why? I’m pretty, aren’t I?” She batted her eyelashes and I felt sick to my stomach.

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to. Ryan Holder already told me I was ugly when he cut my hair last week. It’s why my mom had to cut bangs.”

  When I finally stopped working to look at her, I caught her peeking up at her bangs and huff.

  Fuck.

  “Hey.” What was I doing? She was already walking away with her shoulders slumped. My mind drew a blank, but it didn’t matter because she stopped and turned to face me with a dejected look.

  “Yes, Keiran?”

  You’re not supposed to care.

  Walk away.

  “Run that by me again?” I demanded against my better judgment.

  She looked confused until I impatiently gestured toward her bangs. “There’s this boy…” She frowned and eyed me as if wondering if she should trust me. I gritted my teeth and attempted to find patience. “He’s mean and always pushing me around.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged her little shoulders and stared down at her feet. “I don’t know.”

  “You know,” I insisted. She answered with a rough shake of her head. “Are you lying?”

  “No,” she whispered. Her eyes remained downcast and it took her too long to respond, and by the time she did, I had my answer.

  “Cassandra.” I had only called her by Cassie as her mom and sister did, but I’d heard her mother use her full name when she meant business so I figured it would work for me. When her chin finally left her chest and her wide eyes stared back at me, I knew I had succeeded.

  “He said he hates me—” She hesitated again as a tear escaped and hung onto her bottom lash. “B—because my dad hits his mom.”

  Fuck.

  The son of a bitch wasn’t just an alcoholic, abusive
husband. He was an alcoholic, abusive, and cheating husband. I stared down into the wide brown eyes of this innocent girl and couldn’t accept that her father wasn’t dead.

  “Does your mom know?”

  She nodded, and if possible, her shoulders slumped even more. “I told her but she made me promise not to talk about it anymore.”

  “Why?” I asked more forcefully than necessary when dealing with a ten-year-old.

  “Because she didn’t want my dad to find out. She’s scared of him, Keiran. He yells and hits her and he’s so mean to Maddie.”

  “Has he ever hurt you or Maddie?”

  “Sometimes he grabs and shakes Maddie when she cries too much.”

  I managed to keep my voice level despite the rage rising safely beneath the surface. “And you?”

  “No. I don’t talk to him when he drinks.”

  Smart kid. “Tell me about the kid who cut your hair.”

  “Ryan?” I didn’t miss how her breathing stopped for just a moment or the increased fear in her eyes at the thought of talking about Ryan. I wondered at the possibility that she might have been more afraid of him than she was of her father.

  “Yes. Ryan,” I answered slowly to keep my temper in check. I didn’t know this girl or her family, but I felt the unwanted desire to protect them when it wasn’t my right or my responsibility. “What else has he done to you?”

  “He said I was a good for nothing whore like my mother, and it’s why she can’t keep my father home where he belongs.”

  I did a poor job of concealing my surprise. “He said that?” She nodded and looked down at her feet again.

  That little shit.

  “Protect yourself. He won’t let anyone else protect you from him.”

  “But he’s bigger than me.”

  “He may be bigger than you, but you’re stronger.” I could tell she didn’t understand. Even now, her shoulders shook with overpowering fright. If I couldn’t make her understand, I knew someone who could.

  First, I needed to have a talk with her mother.

  I found Maddie and led them both outside. Then from the trunk of my car, I dug out the basketball I felt the need to keep close. I spent twenty minutes showing them how to dribble and even how to dribble between their legs. It took Cassie a few tries while Maddie watched since her legs were too small to perform the trick. Once they were thoroughly distracted with dribbling, I slid back into the modest house and found their mother in the bedroom pointed out by the girls.

  “We need to talk.” My voice was gruff with impatience simply because I had none. She was completely skittish thanks to her abusive husband and jumped at the sound of my voice. When she cowered in the corner with one glance at my expression, I forced myself to school my features into passivity, enough for her to calm. “We need to talk,” I repeated.

  “What about?”

  “Cassie. Did you know she is being bullied?” The regret in her eyes just before they shifted to fixate on the floor was answer enough. “Why are you allowing this to happen?”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “Probably more than she ever got to tell you because you’re a coward.”

  “I told you. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  “You do if you want to keep them,” I threatened without mercy. Failing to protect them was just as much abuse as if she had hit them herself.

  “Don’t threaten me with my kids. You have no right to judge me,” she screamed.

  “You think I don’t?” I could hear the malice in my voice. It matched the darkness of my heart.

  “How could you possibly understand?”

  “My father sold me for gambling money and expensive alcohol simply because he hated my mother.” I ignored the horror filled gasp that echoed around the room and the frail hand that trembled over her lips. “He not only hated my mother, but he also hated me for everything I didn’t provide him.”

  “What was that?”

  “Wealth.” She stared at me in disbelief, and I found myself looking away. I needed control over my emotions. This wasn’t about me. This was about Cassie and Maddie—two little girls who needed me to make their mother understand where her choices were leading them. “He was heir to a substantial fortune if he were able to marry and produce an heir.”

  “But if he made a son, didn’t he inherit? Why would he sell you because of your mother?”

  “Because he also needed to marry, and she refused to marry for anything less than love.”

  Her frown deepened when she picked up on the tone of my voice. “Is that so wrong?” she asked defensively. I could tell she thought herself in love with Robert, her husband.

  I held her stare and admitted something I never thought I ever would. “I blamed my mother for being selfish until the very moment I had what she couldn’t find with Mitch.”

  She stared at me with disbelief. “You?” I didn’t react. I only stared. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Believe me. Falling in love was not something I wanted.” My lips twitched with the urge to smile. “She was very persuasive.”

  “She’s a beautiful girl,” she said wistfully. “I suppose it makes sense given why you’re here and doing so much for perfect strangers. You are willing to kill for her?”

  “No. I’m willing to not kill for her. She’d forbid it.”

  “And you’re used to killing?” she questioned nervously.

  “Yes. I might have even been born for it.”

  “Money and death. That’s no reason to live.”

  “Yes. Well, it’s a good thing I was saved before I figured that out for myself.”

  “Oh, but I didn’t mean—”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m still here. The question is—do you want to be?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “I plan to kill your husband, Laurie. I need to know why it’s worth breaking my vow to her.”

  For the second time.

  I’d never admit that I was afraid to kill again—that I feared each time I took a life that I lost a piece of my humanity all over again.

  “Please don’t. I—”

  I shook my head slowly, indicating I was uninterested in what she had to say for him. I turned away, heading for the door. The sooner I got this over with, the less chance I would have to back out.

  “Stop,” she shouted, surprising me. The force behind her order was far more than I expected from the tiny slip of a woman. I forced myself to face her again and met stormy eyes in a sea of blue.

  So much like Lake when she was upset.

  In this case, she was furious.

  “I asked you not to, but now I’m telling you. You’re not going to kill him.”

  I charged forward, but she held her ground. I gritted my teeth to keep from shouting and spewing threats and obscenities.

  “Why are you protecting him?”

  “I’m not protecting him.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Maybe at first, but now I’m protecting you.”

  My vision of her narrowed as suspicion took over my instincts.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the same reason you’re hell bent on protecting us?” She turned away to pace. “I don’t know why, but I do know he’s not worth it. I don’t know you very well, young man, but something tells me you’ve overcome a lot and fought a hell of a lot of demons to do it. Don’t give that up for someone like Robert. Do you think your lady deserves that?”

  No.

  Fuck no.

  But killing was the only way I knew how to make problems go away. It was all I knew.

  Wasn’t it?

  “You didn’t kill me two nights ago,” she reminded, and I wondered what she was getting at. She didn’t leave me guessing for long. “Think about why.”

  I knew why, or at least, I thought I did.

  “You’re not a killer anymore,” she continued.

  “You don’t know me
.”

  “I don’t have to. If you were still a killer, you would have killed me and made your job much easier by two days and fifty thousand dollars.”

  When I had convinced Laurie to leave her home and husband with her daughters, I promised them a new life and fifty grand to get her started, along with a house far away from Robert. After only a split hesitation, she accepted my offer and quietly stole away in the middle of the night with her girls.

  “You may not see it yet, but you have a future. Robert stole mine. I won’t let him take yours, too.”

  I didn’t move or speak for some time. Every dark part of me leftover from my past wanted to ignore her plea.

  “Fine.” She looked relieved, and I hated it. I wanted him dead. A part of me felt as if killing Robert would restore the balance between the stolen revenge against my own. I ignored that part and focused on the present. “But I won’t always be around. If he comes after you—if he kills you— I want you to remember the decision you made to let him live.”

  * * *

  It was a dick move but necessary. She may not have changed her mind about her husband living, but at least, she would be on guard. I just hoped that if the need arrived, she would find the courage to protect herself and her daughters.

  I finished installing the security system and made sure they had everything they needed with the promise to return and hauled ass back to California.

  I had an infuriating girlfriend to find, and I think I knew just where to look.

  I didn’t make it back until two in the morning. Exhausted, I climbed into our bed alone, which seemed bigger and colder without her. I resisted the urge to pout and slid my hand in underneath the sheets instead, finding the hardness beneath. I gripped my dick and reached for my phone with my other hand.

  I needed her.

  I was determined to get her any way I could at this point.

  I clicked on the icon of her naked form as she slept one morning after a night of fucking, engaged the speaker, and laid the phone on my lower stomach just above my cock. I waited—anticipating the moment I would hear her melodic voice.