If David’s dead, would they have to?
“Is the other boy okay?” I ask the paramedic once I’m seated in the back of the ambulance. “Is he going to live?”
The paramedic doesn’t answer me for a while, just goes about her business of checking my vitals, her fingers probing the delicate skin of my wrist where I was bound before she checks the knife wound on my neck. “You’re lucky that blade didn’t penetrate your skin further,” she murmurs as she applies antiseptic to the cut.
I meet her gaze and try to compose myself. “Please,” I whisper. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She sighs and slowly shakes her head. “Your boyfriend is fine. The bullet seemed to go clean through his arm. They’re bringing him into the ambulance right now. The other one…his injuries are more severe but I think he’s going to make it.”
“You do?” The relief that floods me is overwhelming. I know I shouldn’t care if David lives or dies after everything he’s done but I don’t wish death on anyone. Even a boy who holds a knife to my throat and threatens to kill me.
“Yes,” she says with a firm nod. “Now let’s get you situated before they bring your boyfriend in. You can talk to him then, okay?”
“Is he conscious?”
“He’s lucid, yes.”
I wait for the stretcher to come into the ambulance and within minutes it appears, Nick lying on it, his eyes closed, his arm bandaged. I lean over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he smiles.
The sight of that smile sends my heart racing to the sky.
“I look bad, huh?” he asks, his voice faint, that smile still curling his lips.
“You look tough.” He looks beautiful. A little pale but alive, the bandage wrapped tight around his bare arm, his chest and stomach on display, his shoeless feet covered with mud. “I’ve never seen you look better.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re glad I survived.” He cracks open his eyes. “That scared the shit out of me.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“When he had that knife to your throat, I thought…” He shudders and closes his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
I take the hand of his uninjured arm and lace our fingers together tight. I don’t ever want to let him go. “I’m still here.”
“Yeah.” He swallows and winces. “Me too. My arm hurts like a son of a bitch.”
“You’re going to be fine. It’ll be an awesome scar.” I bring our linked hands up to my mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles.
“Hell yeah, it will.” His eyes open again and he groans. “Your brother is going to kick my ass.”
I laugh, the sound watery, and I realize I’m crying as well, the tears flowing down my cheeks and dropping onto his chest. “No, he won’t. You saved my life.”
“I did, didn’t I?” His mouth curves into this little lopsided smile and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “You saved my life too, Rev. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
His words break down the walls I’ve held up for so long as I tried my best to be strong. I bend over Nick and cry, my face pressed against his chest, my tears dampening his skin. I can feel his heartbeat, his body solid and strong, and I cry harder at the thought of losing him.
But I didn’t lose him. I won’t ever let go of him again.
He squeezes my hand, his fingers so strong and sure that I know he’ll be all right.
And so will we.
***
Six months later
“Oh my God, you look gorgeous.” I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching for him, my heart racing with pure pleasure at the sight of my boyfriend. “All the girls will be jealous of my prom date.”
Nick glances down at himself, his mouth scrunched as he tugs at his bow tie, appearing uncomfortable and completely out of his element. “I’m doing this for you, I hope you realize this.”
“I do. Trust me.” I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist, kissing his smooth cheek. He smells delicious. “You look good in a tux.”
“Yeah? Well, let me look at you.” He reaches for my hands and pulls me away from him, his gaze drinking me in slowly, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, his eyes getting wider and wider. “Hell, Rev. What are you wearing?”
“A question I need to ask as well,” Evan says from behind me.
I turn to find my big brother scowling at me. I do a twirl, the skirt of my turquoise dress swirling around my legs. “You don’t like it?”
“Too much skin showing. You should wear a sweater,” he says, sounding like an old man. My brother, my protector. With the lawsuits and the possible jail time our parents are facing after what they did to The Flock of the Lambs, they haven’t called us in weeks. Maybe even a month. And when they do call, the conversations are all about them and how everyone has turned against them when they did no wrong.
They’re completely delusional.
We’re done with them, Evan and I. We’re making it on our own. It wasn’t our fault they stole. All sorts of reporters have tried to contact us to talk about what happened but we refuse to speak to them. Maybe someday, when it’s not so painful to think about the way our parents first manipulated us, tricked us and then completely abandoned us.
For now, it’s best we leave it alone and get on with our lives.
“A sweater?” I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“I love her dress. I think she looks beautiful,” Nick says, his arm going around my waist, his hand splayed across the exposed skin of my back.
“I’m sure you do. Exactly for the reason I hate it.” Evan shakes his head. “You two kids have fun at prom, okay?”
“Okay, Grandpa.” I go to my brother and kiss his cheek, giving him a hug before I pull away from him. My lipstick left a smudge on his skin and I wipe it off with my fingertips, which makes him slap my hand away.
“Get out of here. Be back by midnight,” he grumbles.
“Are you serious?” Nick and I got a hotel room for the night because you know…it’s prom. And you’re supposed to do that with your boyfriend on prom night.
“Nah, no curfew tonight.” Evan points his finger at Nick. “But you keep her safe, you got that?”
“Always.” Nick stands straighter, his back stiff. “I promise.”
We drive to the auditorium where my senior prom is being held in the old truck, Nick griping about it almost the entire way there. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted to spend money to rent a limo but I told him that was a waste. I didn’t need anything else to make this prom night perfect.
Just him.
Normalcy. That’s all I wanted since I first learned what my parents did and how their actions changed my life. I felt completely out of control. Lost. Deceived. But I finally have my life back, thanks to Evan and Nick and my friends—and it’s even better than it was before. I was sheltered and silly and naïve. Now I feel strong. Smart. Like I can deal with anything.
After David abducted me and shoved me into Krista’s room and the fight that ensued, things have changed dramatically. David is being held in jail without bail after recovering from his injuries at the hospital while under constant police and suicide watch. He’s been charged with the murder of Krista Benson and the assault and kidnapping of me.
Hal Benson was never charged with the shooting of David or Nick. It was ruled as an act of self-defense in the case of David and accidental with Nick. Last we heard, Hal is in rehab, working hard toward his recovery.
Nick healed from his gunshot injury quick, thanks to the loving care of…me. Evan insisted he move in with us so we could take care of him while he was recovering and he’s lived there ever since. Once I graduate school in less than three weeks, we’re going to look into finding an apartment together in Santa Cruz, where I’ll be going to college in the fall on a scholarship.
My future plans—which at one point seemed hopeless—all came together. How, I’m not quite sure, but I’m n
ot going to question it.
I’m just so incredibly thankful I have Nick by my side.
We pull into the lot of my high school a few short minutes later, Nick parking the truck and turning off the engine. I watch some couples run past us, laughing and giggling, the boys wearing tuxedos, the girls in sparkly dresses. One of the girls waves at me and I smile and wave back, recognizing her from my English class. Once they’re gone, I glance in Nick’s direction to find him watching me.
“You look happy,” he says, his low, warm voice sending a shiver down my spine.
My smile grows. “Because I am.”
“Because you’re going to prom?”
I swat him on the shoulder. “Because I’m with you.”
He pulls me into him, kissing me until I can’t breathe before he breaks away from me. “You look sexy as hell in that dress,” he murmurs, his gaze roaming all over me, as if he can’t figure out what to stare at first.
I raise my brows at him, every bit of my bare skin warming from the smoldering intensity in his eyes. “You like it?”
“I’ll like it even more when I can take it off of you in our hotel room.” My cheeks are instantly on fire and he laughs, shaking his head. “That I can still embarrass you is the cutest thing ever.”
“Shut up,” I say, feeling silly. Feeling happy. Content.
Loved.
“I have a gift for you.” His voice and expression have gone solemn and I back away from him, surprised by this announcement.
“A gift?” I didn’t get anything for him. Did we promise each other gifts?
“Yeah.” He reaches into the front pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulls out a tiny velvet jewelry box. “Open it.”
I take it from him with trembling fingers, popping open the box. Inside is a thin white gold band, a tiny diamond in the center. I stare at it for a breathless second, shock and pleasure coursing through my veins, making my head swim. “What is this?” I ask, looking up at him.
He looks nervous. And cute. So cute. “A promise ring. I know it’s not much but I wanted to let you know that I’m…I’m serious about this, Reverie. About us. When Evan tells me I have to protect you, I take that very seriously. And I want to protect you for as long as I can. Hopefully forever.”
I can’t take it when he says perfect things like that. Clutching the box in my hand, I throw myself at him, hugging him tight, a shiver moving through me when he circles his arms around my waist. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear, my arms around his neck.
“I love you too.” His arms tighten around me for a brief moment before he’s pushing me away and reaching for the box still clutched in my hand. “Let me put it on your finger.”
I hold out my trembling hand, giggling when he has trouble pulling the ring from its velvety confines. His hand is shaking too as he makes a few failed attempts before he finally slips the band on my ring finger.
It’s a perfect fit.
“I love it,” I breathe as I stare down at the ring on my finger. It’s so dainty. So beautiful.
“It’s too small.”
Lifting my head, I glare at him. “It’s perfect. I love it, almost as much as I love you.”
“Good.” He sounds relieved. How could he think I’d not love the ring and this special night? Everything about him and us together and the promise that he’s made me? I’ve never been so happy. “Because I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say as I lean in close for his kiss.
***
OWNING VIOLET, coming December 2nd, 2014
New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy begins a sexy new contemporary romance series—perfect for fans of Christina Lauren and Emma Chase—that introduces three sisters born to wealth, raised to succeed, ready to love, destined to make waves.
I’ve moved through life doing what’s expected of me. I’m the middle daughter, the dutiful daughter. The one who braved a vicious attack and survived. The one who devoted herself to her family’s business empire. The one who met an ambitious man and fell in love. We were going to run Fleur Cosmetics together, Zachary and I.
Until he got a promotion and left me in the dust. Maybe it’s for the best, between his disloyalty and his wandering eye. But another man was waiting for me. Wanting me. He too has an overwhelming thirst for success, just like Zachary—perhaps even more so. He’s also ruthless. And mysterious. I know nothing about Ryder McKay beyond that he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
One stolen moment, a kiss, a touch . . . and I’m hooked. Ryder’s like a powerful drug, and I’m an addict who doesn’t want to be cured. He tells me his intentions aren’t pure, and I believe him. For once, I don’t care. I’m willing to risk everything just to be with him. Including my heart. My soul.
My everything.
Advance praise for Owning Violet
“Owning Violet owned me from the first page to the last. Ryder and Violet’s chemistry is off the charts! Read it, own it, love it!”
—New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans
Taking a deep breath, I slip my Chanel bag over my shoulder and exit the bathroom, stopping short when I see a man standing in the darkened hallway, almost as if he was waiting for me. His face is in shadows but I recognize his build, the way he holds himself. Confident, with that arrogant tilt of his head and those incredibly broad shoulders.
It’s Ryder McKay.
“Well, well, well. Violet Fowler, how are you this evening?” His rumbly deep voice washes over me as he steps out of the shadows, tall and imposing and handsome as sin.
I take a step back, not wanting him in my personal space, but he invades it anyway. “Mr. McKay,” I say politely, not daring to call him by his first name. That would imply I know him, that we’re friends or at the very least friendly coworkers, and we’re neither of those things. He may work at Fleur, but I rarely speak to him. I don’t have to, and besides . . .
There’s something about all that edgy darkness and how it radiates from him. He demands attention without saying a word, and there’s an air of danger that surrounds him, that ensnares me despite my reluctance to be near him. The innate sexuality that he represents . . . it scares me.
He scares me.
“I’ve worked at Fleur long enough for you to call me Ryder, don’t you think?” He pauses for a heavy beat and the air seems to fill with electricity as I wait for him to speak. “You don’t mind that I call you Violet, do you?”
He somehow makes my name sound like a sexual promise. I take another step back and my butt hits the wall. He smiles, and I know he knows I’ve realized I’m trapped. “Of course you can call me Violet,” I say, thankful my voice isn’t shaking. I have no idea what to say to him, how to act. “Did you have a nice dinner?”
He grins. “Why yes, I did, thank you for asking. The view was spectacular.” His gaze slides down the length of me, taking me all in. My breasts, my stomach, my hips, my legs, lingering on my feet before moving back up, his gaze once more on mine. “The food was good, too.”
My cheeks heat, but it’s not from the leftover tears. It’s the way he looks at me, his gaze so bold, like he wants to devour me. His mention of the view is in reference to me. As if he’s somehow attracted to me.
I don’t believe it. He’s just trying to unnerve me with his not-so-subtle flirting. And it’s working.
“How’s Zachary?” Ryder asks when I still haven’t answered.
I jolt, giving myself a little shake. Zachary. I need to remember that my boyfriend is outside waiting for the car. Waiting for me. “Fine,” I say as I step away from the wall. But that only brings me closer to Ryder and he doesn’t budge. I can smell him. His scent is as dark and alluring as he is. “I should go. He’s waiting—”
“I hear he’s leaving for London.” The expression on Ryder’s handsome face is all polite sympathy, but with a hint of mockery in his dark blue eyes. He doesn’t like Zachary and the feeling is mutual.
Zachary complains about him all the time. I’m sure Ryder’s thrilled that Zachary is leaving. “Trying out for a promotion, correct? I’m sure you’re proud of him.”
Proud of him? I should be. And seriously, did everyone know this bit of news but me? “H-how did you hear?” I press my lips together, angry that I let the little stutter slip. I need to remain composed, especially in the face of this particular man.
He’s a shark. I know he takes advantage of the weak and gobbles them up. I’ve heard the stories. And those stories are more than half the reason Father is so pleased that he works at Fleur. Father admires a shark. It’s why he loves Zachary so much, too, though Zachary is much smoother in his . . . predatory approach to business.
“My dinner partner told me the good news.” He inclines his head when he notes my confusion. “I’m here with Pilar.”
“Oh.” Pilar. How could I forget? His relationship, his usual aloofness—it’s all such a mystery. Hardly anyone knows much about him, but they all want to learn more. At the moment, though, he’s being downright friendly with me.
“Yes.” He smiles, and it’s so dazzling I feel like I’m momentarily blinded. “Oh.”
“How is Pilar?” I ask, being polite when I realize he seems to be waiting for a response. He still hasn’t moved out of my way and I inhale discreetly, taking in his sharp, masculine scent. I let my gaze linger on him for a long moment as he looks down at the floor, as if he’s savoring a personal joke. His eyelashes are long and thick, casting shadows upon his cheekbones, and my belly flutters when he glances up, his intense gaze meeting mine.
“She’s well. Up to her usual tricks.” The smile that curls the corners of his lips tells me he is in on the joke and I am definitely not. “I should probably go check on her.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s waiting at the front for her car. We rode together.” His smile grows. “I wanted to come back here and check on you.”
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