Make Me Stay II: A Second Chance Romance

by Avant, Amarie

  Tripp cut him off. He gritted, “Follow him.”

  “I am.” Donavan had already pulled out at a cautious pace, leaving enough room for Rich Boy to drive freely—as if he had not a care in the world tonight.

  Just before the yellow light flashed red, he pulled through the intersection and followed the sleek, canary yellow ride toward the freeway.

  “FYI, Hardy, in this job, I don’t wonder about shit, accept for the mission requirements, i.e. exactly how a person is to be snuffed out. As far as that goes, I just expect to have cold, hard cash wired to my bank account soon as the kill is recorded.” Tripp patted Donavan’s shoulder. “This is a shiny new ballpark, Hardy. Hopefully, after this stupid assignment, Castle will let you get down to the nitty gritty. Good ol’ fashion murder.”

  Donavan chewed on his top lip, with no desire to respond to Trip, who was becoming more like poison every day. They both knew that when Tripp was in command, the comradery that grew with each of the sharks was the reason they all didn’t break after the shock of their very first IED.

  Rich Boy’s dream car zoomed off the freeway and down North Ocean Boulevard before pulling off the street, lining the dark shore. Donavan and Tripp followed, eventually driving up an incline toward Babbo, an Italian restaurant that overlooked the ocean. It was the sort of place he’d take Avery because she had been raised surrounded by the finer things in life.

  At a cool five miles an hour, Donavan managed the windy bends with caution. He nudged his head toward an alcove about three miles later. “We’ll, park there.”

  Tripp rubbed his hands together. “With a lil alcohol in the bastard, he won’t know what hit him . . . or not.”

  Babbo dominated the area. They stopped at the very tip of the parking lot and pulled into a spot. Through the window was the perfect view of the dim-lit, dark wood structure.

  “Once the valet has the keys, I’ll put the tracker on his car, and we can return back . . .”

  “To the kill zone.” Tripp spoke in a cryptic tone.

  As he laughed about the entire situation, Donavan watched Rich Boy exit his car and toss the keys to a valet before gliding toward the door. At least the fuck will die on a happy note.

  The leech didn’t even acknowledge the chick in a tight red dress who had just walked over from the parking lot. She was his escort. He just moved right on along into the restaurant. Donavan had to wonder if he had requested discretion with her arrival since he’d let the woman drive herself and didn’t greet her yet.

  Donavan noticed as the mark hesitated a moment. His gaze returned to the car, and he watched where it was parked before entering.

  An hour later, Donavan took a deep breath and maneuvered his car across the opposite lane on the curvy road.

  “Make it quick. I don’t want anyone coming up or down, wondering why the heck we’re here.” Tripp spoke but Donavan tuned him out.

  There wasn’t much room for a mistake. If he swung out any further, the front of his truck was going exactly where they wanted Rich Boy’s ride to go. With his arm draped behind the passenger seat, Donavan glanced over his shoulder and reversed slowly until the truck was snug in the opening in the rocks. He killed the lights.

  As if the ocean looming before them wasn’t dark already, pitch black now surrounded them. The closest street lamp was about fifty yards in either direction.

  An hour later, with Tripp shifting in his seat, Donavan wondered what Avery was doing. Had their daughter woken up tonight? It was amazing how Avery still had an instinct when Anya cried in the dark—one time even getting up before Donavan’s brain could figure out that his little heart was crying.

  “Damn, I bet that asshat is living it up, fingering his whore under the table. Drinks. Keep drinking, fuck off,” Tripp mumbled to himself, glancing at the screen of his iPad. “You’re the same ol’ loaner, like before.”

  Donavan rolled his gaze toward Tripp. Was it too much to hope that they were cool, really cool? Forgiving wasn’t forgetting, but for tonight they needed to stay alert.

  Instead of jumping in with more shit-talk, Tripp bit at his knuckles pensively then asked, “You ever wonder about Hunter?”

  “To be honest, I try not to.”

  “Yeah, I heard he’s an angry little fucker now. His dad had it in for you so hard. You know, I did another few years after you left. I don’t think that would’ve happened had you not taken the rap for that little shithead’s whiskey.”

  Unsure how to respond, Donavan nodded thoughtfully.

  “I do this for my family too. It’s good money, but I will get out once my woman and I have settled down. That’s what I tell myself. If you don’t—” he paused, as the tracker beeped. “Go time.”

  “If this doesn’t work, then ‘the stairs,’ a tried-and-true classic is plan b.”

  Donavan placed his hand on the switch that would turn on the high-powered flood lights.

  “Turn it on now!” Tripp shouted.

  “Not yet,” Donavan said. The sports car was about ninety yards away from them. When it was five yards out, Donavan flipped the switch. They were blinded by a massive white light. It felt like heaven had shined upon hell.

  They watched as Rich Boy’s arm flew to his face, and he yanked the wheel. He’d been coasting down the lane too fast.

  Screech! The sound of tires pierced through the night.

  Clank! The metal barrier broke, and in a fraction of a second, the car stood still before plummeting down.

  Flood lights off, Donavan pulled back onto the road.

  “That was like a scene from a movie.” Tripp whistled. “Not much of nothing in this world shocks me . . . but if that bastard is still alive then . . .”

  About twenty minutes later, they parked on the beach and found where the car was smashed at the beginning of a jetty of rocks.

  “Confirm the kill.” Tripp gripped at the slick rock, stepping up onto it. “I’ll grab the tracking device.”

  Donavan climbed, cognizant of broken fragments and shards of glass.

  The low, eerie sound of gurgling carried along the wind. With tensed lips, he pulled on his leather gloves while stopping at the driver’s side.

  The front of the car was concaved. The massive engine crushed Rich Boy’s legs. His eyes were wide with tears.

  Donavan froze, seeing his brother. “Hunter,” he whispered.

  When Rich Boy’s gaze slowly slid onto Donavan, he reached into the car, careful not to touch anything. Donavan gripped his neck and gave it a swift twist while slamming his forehead into the steering wheel.

  39

  Donavan

  “I assume you and Tripp had fun at the bar last night?” Avery’s brown eyes warmed like hot chocolate as she eyed Donavan getting out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around him. “Damn, I thought I’d have to whoop his ass after we had some really good make you feel better sex.”

  “I have the feeling you love making me feel better.” He pulled her into his arms, his hands trailing between her thighs. She’d slept in his white tee, and damn if it didn’t adorn her body so perfectly. Their tongues twined in a mind-blowing kiss.

  “You keep kissing me like that, I’ll never need coffee,” he signed, leaning back against the counter.

  “Donnie.” She bit her lip pensively.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Carly called last night while you were out. Greg had another episode. So much pain. He forgot who she was while she was trying to give him more meds. And . . . and I was wondering . . .”

  He rubbed a hand over his face, recalling the one time his dad had lost it with him. That moment had stung to his core. Today, he could fix that, but he tuned in to hear that Avery planned on fixing it for him.

  “What?” He noticed there was more snap in his tone than he meant.

  She fidgeted with her fingers. “I know you hate my dad. We’ve made progress with our B&B all by ourselves. But I think I can get my father to agree to adding Greg to our family health plan. The hospital
is amazing. The doctors are known around the nation. We can have a caregiver while Carly’s here, and definitely when she returns home for the day, so that she can spend more time with Josh. Just think about it.”

  “No.”

  “I’ve mentioned this before, and I’m telling you again, Donnie.” She clasped his hands, looking up at him. “We’re a family. I’ll talk to my dad. He says something or does anything out of line, he’ll answer to me.”

  “Avery, I’ll handle it.”

  “Alright, I’ll do piano lessons again.”

  His entire face tensed.

  “I’m the one who is hard of hearing, but you’re staring at me as if I’ve just betrayed you, Donnie.” She folded her arms.

  “I already told you. I’d handle it, Avery!”

  She paused for a second, looking at the ground. Her gaze met his, filled with hurt and pain. “Remind me not to ever offer to help again, you, big bully. FYI, I made it on the list to have an appointment with the Cochlear Clinic for next month—instead of half a year. My father’s insurance did that. And honestly, I’m not tossing that into your face. Only endeavoring for you to . . . to understand that this is a good opportunity. And another FYI, I consider Greg my family too!”

  Avery stalked toward the bathroom door, and Donavan caught her wrist. She pulled away. Donavan yanked her to his chest. The instant her body went flush against his, he realized he’d tugged at her too harshly. Something in him wanted to scale back on the anger raging through his veins, but he couldn’t. He blinked away dark thoughts and reminded himself that there was nothing wrong with him—with this—he’d never in a million years truly hurt Avery Castle. Fuck the possibility of having PTSD. He loved her more than some stupid diagnosis. He knew he’d never really hurt her.

  He pointed a stiff finger at her and looked just to the left of her tear, sparkled gaze. He couldn’t stop the tension in his jaw. “Babe, I know you’re trying to help. But when I say, I’ll handle it, I mean it. You got that?”

  She batted her lashes and the dam broke. Tears began to fall down her face.

  “Do you got that?” he demanded, still unable to take in the sight of her. The thought of going to Alexander hardened Donavan’s heart to her cries. He held Avery steady until she nodded. Then he let her arm go, and she stalked away.

  * * *

  Donavan sat back in the plush seat, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders as he glanced inside the yellow envelope. The money inside was enough to pay for a nurse for half a year, purchase one or two of Avery’s crazy ideas for the bed and breakfast, and buy his woman something nice.

  “So, why the accidental death scenario?”

  Alexander leaned forward, rubbed a hand over his freshly cut goatee. “There’s more than air in that brain of yours. People don’t normally surprise me, Hardy. But you just did.”

  “Yeah, well I kept wondering if you just wanted to see if I could follow orders. Not break.” He shrugged. “But then, I think about the mark. Rich man who has a perfect bachelor pad. He was meeting a call girl at a very exclusive restaurant. Didn’t even say a hello to the woman before they were inside of the place.”

  Alexander tugged at his cufflinks with a chortle. “Hardy, I don’t pay you to think. Of course, it was a test. Make sure you can kill a mark without having a PTSD moment. You know, pussy stuff like that.”

  Ignoring him, Donavan mentioned the conclusion he’d come to. “He was getting ready to run for some sort of political office. He was becoming less of a party guy. More studious at work. More assignments. But still liked to have a pretty little thang next to him for dinner.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “For a different political party than you give a few pennies to.”

  “Obviously. Let your brain wrap around this. Pennies in this case are considered millions. The assignment you were given was not Vitality approved, Donavan. Sanctioned, instead, by myself. And I did not make myself acquainted with Tripp for his benefit.”

  Donavan waited for him to continue. Alexander rose from his seat, went to the wet bar and poured two drinks. Since he chose not to talk, Donavan did it for him. “You already said that Tripp only came to your attention because of me.”

  “Yes. Approximately, a year ago, when you were sullying my child again with your presence,” he spat, placing the crystal cork on top of the bottle. “I was making myself acquainted with Tripp. In this place.” He paused to glance around his lavish office. “There are ranks as with any organization. If Tripp had followed those ranks, my good friend, Tanner, would have been the man that he’d have met before meeting me. But he didn’t. You need to understand. I am not an idiot, Donavan. I’m a hopeful person, not an idiot. So, a few years ago, one of my guys met Tripp and gave him a Vitality card. When he came in last year, I started him at the bottom—where he should’ve stayed.”

  “He’ll keep his job now?”

  Alexander scoffed. “You worried about your old Commanding Officer ?”

  “Yes!”

  “Alright, Tripp still has a job. Now stop being sympathetic and purview the bigger picture.”

  Donavan grumbled. “You wanted me to work for you.”

  “No!” He handed over the drink.

  Donavan set it down.

  Alexander sat on the edge of the table beside him. “I never wanted to have anything to do with you, Hardy. I prepared because I can read people. Most definitely my child. My daughter has this obsession with—”

  “Love.” Donavan exhaled in exasperation.

  “She loves you.” Alexander basically choked on the words. “If you had taken my money years ago, that would’ve been your death. You didn’t take my money. And so I did not get my wish and cultivated a new hope.”

  “I’d go to the army, train. Then work for you only if Avery decided to give me another chance?”

  “Affirmative. I’ve had other hopes along the way. Such as Avery falling in love with a better man.”

  Donavan picked up his drink, pausing before downing it then shot back. “Look how that came out.”

  “That stiff was no choice of mine.”

  “So you hired Tripp, moved him up the ranks? But you knew he hated me. Why hire him?”

  “Think.” Alexander slammed his hand onto the table.

  Realization slowly dawned on Donavan. “He was the test? Not the mission?”

  “Yes and no. If you couldn’t handle the mission, then I continue caring for my daughter and your poor ass.”

  Donavan rolled his eyes. Telling the bastard that Avery didn’t care as much about money as her father did wasn’t entirely true right now. They sorely needed it.

  “You complete the mission. And, bring Tripp back into the fold as well, shows me that you have the capacity to be loyal, Donavan. Now, you can continue operating under the guise that you’re receiving missions sanctioned by our POTUS, government organizations, and other higher ups via our Vitality Organization, or you can simply understand the truth. You are following your soon-to-be father-in-law’s wishes, which are completely off the record.”

  “Since you feel that I’ve ruined your life thus far.” Donavan chortled

  “C’mon there are only so many things the company is willing to extract from a record. So, Vitality has their jobs, and you, my son, have a golden ticket to the viscera of Vitality—the scary shit—all of which is off the record. See, we are the checks and balances that this mighty corporation needs to thrive”

  Alexander held out his hand. A beat passed. Something didn’t sit right with Donavan. Who let their lifelong nemesis into a private dream team within the folds of an already secret corporation? There had to be another motive. He glanced at the digital clock on the wall. In an hour, he was due to meet the potential nurse at his father’s home. Slowly, he stretched out his hand and made a deal with the devil.

  40

  Hunter

  May

  Less than an entire day in the program, Hunter knew the lay of the land. He was now
a month in and knew how to leave a fine establishment like this on any day. So why would someone well versed on how to pass a mental health exam stay here?

  The answer was obvious.

  The Motherfucking LTG and Hawk—that was why.

  At Franny’s B&B, he’d grown a little spoiled. It wasn’t like all these years had passed, and he hadn’t been gifted with a warm meal and a soft, clean place to lay his head. No. In the past, it was a game of Hawk dragging his stubborn ass home on occasion.

  But Franny’s B & B had been a place where he found love. He’d spent each night cozy in his bed, the video of himself and Avery blossoming in his mind. So, for now, a warm bed was in the cards while he formulated a plan for them to finally be together. Saving her was becoming quite the obsession for him.

  * * *

  Dr. Rembrandt, dressed in tan slacks and a deep purple button up, was opening the wooden blinds to an outside garden. Her previous session after lunch always wanted the room dark. Now the place was bright and airy, to Hunter’s liking. A miniature water fountain added to the serenity while stringed instrumentals drifted down from the invisible speakers above.

  They took their positions, Hunter on a suede couch, and Dr. Rembrandt sat at her table across from him. For the first few minutes, they passed time by talking about how he currently felt until she asked, “I’m glad your time here has been going exceptionally well, Hunter. I’ve heard you’ve been enjoying classical music as of recent?”

  “Just the melodies written and performed by Avery Castle,” he replied.

  Dr. Rembrandt stared at him for a moment before giving a pensive sigh. “Avery Castle, I’ll have to look her up. Now, let’s talk about your interest in Avery. Why do you prefer one precise artist in an entire genre of music?”