Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J Bree

  So Senior isn’t killing all of his own men? There’s another psycho on the loose. Ah, fuck. It’s fucking Morningstar.

  “Does it matter? We should get this over with,” I murmur, and he nods slowly.

  He turns back around to face me, his hand sliding into his pocket casually. The smirk is back and I grit my teeth so I don’t snap at him. That’s what he wants, he wants me brash and reckless. I’ve got to keep my head.

  “I think I’ll have a taste of that cunt, the one that bewitches all of the men who meet you. You’re pretty enough, for a piece of slum ass, but I don’t feel the pull. You’re already too broken for my tastes.”

  I ignore his words, watching only his hands. If he goes for any of the weapons on the bench, I’ll see it and make my move.

  “How sweet it must be to trap both my sons. The Jackal. Morningstar, himself.”

  I startle but my eyes stay fixed on his hands. “Oh you didn’t know that? Didn’t know that he was invited to come kill you and take my useless daughter? He had a good look into your life. Saw something he liked and now he’s at my mansion, killing my men and making a fucking mess. I guess killing the Jackal hasn’t stopped you from being stalked. I wonder if my son would be willing to share you with him too? Not that we’ll find out. I need him home with me, my legacy where it belongs. I’ll have to break him myself.”

  He’s just trying to get a rise out of me. It all means nothing, if he gets into my head then he wins, so I ignore him and keep my focus true.

  A sensor pings and Senior huffs under his breath. “More unwanted guests. The gall of you people.”

  Fuck. There’s no way it can be Ash and the others, no fucking way. I do the math in my head twice before I take a breath. Even at the Ferrari’s top speed the entire trip I still have an hour. Ash is fast and arrogant but he’s still subject to the same laws of physics that the rest of us are.

  Senior takes a step forward and I take a step back, watching as he shakes his head at me, his finger tracing down the length of the scalpel on his workbench. “If you came all the way here and didn’t want to work with me then you’re in for a rude shock, slut. Either you get on the table yourself and we do this the right way or… you displease me. That will not be satisfying for either of us.”

  He’s talking like I’m going to enjoy being carved to pieces and killed, like this is an erotic game for the two of us.

  No wonder Joey was fucked in the head.

  “Apparently you didn’t get the message. I live for displeasing men.”

  He raises the gun in my direction for the first time. “On the table now. I’d like to enjoy you without interruption.”

  I move slowly enough that he doesn’t see my knife in my pocket, I just need to get close enough to him to use it before he sees it coming.

  I don’t want to touch the table at all but I slide my ass onto it without a flinch, even as the bare skin on my thighs touch it. I pray Avery got her cleanliness from him and this thing was bleached after the last time he used it.

  If I’m sitting in a puddle of blood and his semen I’ll lose my fucking shit at him.

  After he’s dead.

  “Lie back, I need to get you strapped in.”

  Ugh.

  I pivot so my legs are on the table as well, ignoring the dull pain in my stomach as I slowly lower myself. The sadistic twinkle is back in his eyes and the bloodlust starts to take him over. Good. I need him all worked up.

  He walks over to grab my ankle to strap it down and I take one last deep breath. Now or fucking never.

  I kick my foot out and slam it into his wrist, knocking the gun out of his hand. He snarls at me but I’m faster than him, grabbing my knife and swinging it at him. He turns at the last second and it sinks into his shoulder, not his throat where I was aiming.

  Fuck.

  He grabs a fistful of my throat, roaring in my face and lifting me from the table. My feet don’t even touch the ground as he slams me into the wall.

  “You stupid whore! All of this is your fucking doing, I’ve lost my sons because of some worthless slum slut who thinks she can climb out of the hell she belongs in, on the shoulders of my bloodline. You are nothing. Nothing.” he hisses, and I focus on staying calm, slowing my pulse so I can stay conscious for longer. Passing out now means death, and when I’m done with him I still have to get out of here without the Devil finding me.

  He leans his torso into me, my arms pinned, and he starts to really fucking rant about me and my dumb, slutty pussy. Men are fucking pathetic sometimes. He gets himself all worked up, badly enough that I manage to hook my ankle around his leg without him taking notice until I break his choking hold, ducking out from under his thumbs and taking his leg out on the way down. I lurch towards the workbench at the same time as he roars at me, all of his refined gentleman exterior gone.

  Senior shoots towards me, but I’m prepared for how fast he’s going to be. I snatch the knife and slam it into his throat. The triumph I should feel is cut out of me as the searing pain of my own knife in his hand slicing through my gut hits. Fuck.

  What the hell is with these assholes stabbing me in the stomach? I’ll be fucking lucky not to lose a fucking kidney or some shit at this point.

  He gets his hand around my throat again and it tightens just a little before finally he lurches back, slumping down to the ground, grabbing at his throat uselessly. I’m freaking covered in his blood but I barely notice.

  I slide to the ground, hacking and choking on my own blood as my mouth fills with it. He’s hit something important, fuck knows what.

  The bubbling finally stops and the rattle in his chest dies down to nothing.

  He’s dead.

  Thank fuck.

  The only problem is that I think I am, too.

  I sprawl out onto my back, my head lolling about uselessly, and suddenly I see my own eyes staring down at me like I’m having some sort of fucking out of body experience. Fuck. They look angry, fierce, fucking furious and yeah, I guess I am pretty pissed that after everything I’ve done, now I’m fucking dead.

  Fuck this, and then I pass out into nothingness.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The next time I open my eyes I come face-to-face with the Devil.

  I mean, I’ve always assumed I’d be going to Hell for everything I’ve done, even if it’s all been self-preservation, but seeing the man who is freaking legendary in the underworld for what he can do to a person is actually worse than waking up in the flames for one very vital and terrifying reason.

  He looks eerily like me.

  Our eyes are exactly the same, the shape, the color, everything.

  He stares at me and leans back in his chair. “You can imagine my own surprise, when Joseph Beaumont invited me to Mounts Bay to play with his children, to find another little lost sister down here.”

  I actually feel it click together in my sluggish brain, the drugs slowing me down some. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara and hurts when I swallow. “You were sending me the heads.”

  He nods again, but his eyes move to the door like he’s waiting for someone to show up and try to kill me. The air around him is protective, I know it well now. The guys are all the same way with me. It’s… fucking jarring.

  “We only have one other sister. I have no time for our brothers but Poe is… everything. You two could pass as twins. We all look like the cunt who fathered us, but you two are so similar.”

  I struggle to sit up but, fuck me, the stab wounds in my gut hurt like a bitch. “So, I look like our sister and that makes you feel protective of me? I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  I’ve clearly lost too much blood and gone insane, because not only am I talking to the Devil himself like this but he’s also just saved my damn life. That kind of proves I might need some help, just a little.

  He shrugs and still doesn’t look at me. “I was formally diagnosed as a sociopath at eight.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. Fuck. Maybe this is the part where he
paints my innards all over the walls.

  “I don’t feel things. I don’t feel happy or good about people. I enjoy cutting them to pieces. I enjoy blood on my hands. I didn’t question the diagnosis.”

  I discreetly try to find a weapon or the nurse call button or something to get me out of this situation. He notices and looks back over at me, pinning me to the bed with a single look.

  “When I was seventeen I went looking for our father. I decided it was time to end him, to destroy him for his many sins, so I rented an apartment next to his clubhouse. I watched it for weeks, and then one night I was woken up by a knock at the door. I opened it up to find a little girl, a little sister, and my heart beat for the first time. I looked down at that girl and knew that I’d kill anyone for her.”

  Right.

  Ok, so he’s got some deep-seated issues but that’s noble enough and we’re fucking related. I relax just a little and stop looking for weapons to just listen to him.

  “Her mom is a junkie. She went back to our father to get a hit and he told her to earn it. No one in the MC wanted to touch her so she sold her daughter off instead. Our sister was six.”

  Fuck. I can see why the Boar said not to go looking for that man. I feel my fingers twitching to go hunting. Morningstar, the Devil, my brother, turns back to watch the door.

  “The first biker to climb into her bed was drunk. Made him slow, easier to fight off. Poe managed to get out from under him and climb out the window. She ran to the closest house, but no one would answer her knocking. The only people desperate enough to live that close to the MC were junkies and whores. I was the only person to open the door for her. She still had blood running down her legs. I looked down at her and knew I’d never let anything hurt her again.”

  I find my voice again, and years of being the Wolf means it’s clear as I say, “That was the MC you tore apart. How is our father still breathing?”

  He shrugs. “I got her cleaned up. Got the whole story out of her. The biker managed to get his fingers inside her but nothing else, so I didn’t have to take her to the hospital. I didn’t know how to take care of people. I called our uncle to come get her but when he arrived she wouldn’t leave with him. She only wanted me. So I told her what I was going to do and she told me she would be a good girl and keep her eyes shut. Her mother had taught her how to do that when she got high and fucked men for drugs. The junkie cunt had already left by then, didn’t care that her kid was gone. Our father had left for a run so I sent him a message. I heard about his reactions to it a few weeks later and I’ve found I like the idea of him watching over his shoulder, living in that state of fear, while he waits for me to come find him. Someday I will.”

  A fight breaks out outside the room and I look up to find Harley screaming at Illi. My oldest friend, the only one left, tries to keep Harley from bursting in the room but my boyfriend is having none of that. Illi has to use every muscle, every ounce of strength in him, to keep Harley out.

  If Blaise and Ash show up, it’s game over.

  “If you don’t want to speak to me, you don’t have to; I know my reputation precedes me. I’ll leave you with my contact details and you can call if things go bad again. I would have been here sooner, but Poe had… an incident I had to take care of.”

  I look away from the brawl. “What’s your name? It’s not Morningstar, is it?”

  He shakes his head. “Nathaniel. Poe calls me Nate. Morningstar is my middle name, my own addict mother thought it would suit me, seeing who our father is.”

  I take a breath and reach out to touch his hand. He’s my blood and he’s saved my ass. The least I can do is try. “I’d like to know you. I just don’t understand why you’d want to know me. Just because I look like our sister doesn’t mean you owe me something.”

  He looks down at my hand and I think about taking it back, but then looks back up at me and says, “One look at you and I knew I’d kill for you too. You’re different to Poe, more guarded and cynical, but if anything, that proves you’re my blood.”

  Huh.

  Holy fuck. Ok.

  I nod at him and squeeze his hand before letting go. “I’d like to have a brother. And I’d love to meet Poe. I’d… love for you to meet my family too.”

  His eyes flick out to the raging screaming match happening outside the room. Ash and Blaise arrive as we look up and Illi glances over at us. Nate stares him down.

  “The Butcher is a good addition. The Beaumont kid seem to be proficient, and the mobster is decent enough. Not sure why the singer is hanging around,” he says, and I gulp. I’ve never had to tell a brother anything, let alone about my complicated, messy, fucking perfect relationships.

  “I’m dating him. And the other two, not the Butcher. I’m… with three guys.”

  The Devil, shit… Nate nods and says, “I know. I was planning on killing them too until I saw how they are with you. I don’t give a shit who you’re with, as long as it’s what you want and you’re not being hurt.”

  I look up at Illi and jerk my head to tell him to let them in before Harley hulks out and beats his face in. Ash shoves him away from the door so hard he bounces and Blaise completely ignores Nate to bundle me gently into his arms.

  Harley and Ash both know exactly who is sitting by my bed.

  Nate doesn’t speak to them, doesn’t acknowledge them at all, he just watches the door. I tuck my face into Blaise’s neck for a second and then let him go when Harley yanks him off to get a good look at me.

  “What the fuck happened to trusting us and not running off on your own? You could have fucking died, babe.”

  “She did die,” says Illi from the doorway, a frown pulling the corners of his lips down. I grimace and try to smile at him.

  “Sorry. Thanks for coming for me.”

  He scoffs at me and waves a hand at Nate. “You’re lucky your brother was stalking you. He found you first, staunched the bleeding, then did CPR while I drove you both in. You’d be dead in that fucking mausoleum if it weren’t for him.”

  I don’t point out that Nate made it there first, that I’d interrupted him taking care of Senior for me. I don’t think the guys will take that very well.

  “Brother?!” sputters Blaise, and Avery stalks through the door with Atticus hot on her eight-inch heels.

  She arches a brow at my rock god. “Isn’t that obvious? You only need eyes to see it.”

  I swallow and stare at her for half a second before my eyes think about leaking. We made it. We’re alive, the demons stalking us are dead, or I guess related, we’re going to be ok. She smiles at me then frowns.

  “I’m angry at you, Lips. We’re having our first official spat as friends. Ash, you and Illi are on my side. Lips can have the other two idiots.”

  I smile at her but Ash snorts, and snaps, “Not fucking happening. I’m not on your side after the year we’ve had and I’ll never side with Atticus fucking Crawford.” Ash sneers, and I hold my hand out to him. He stares at it for a second and then takes it.

  “I’m angry at you too, Mounty, but I’ll wait for you to heal before I spank you.”

  Avery makes a disgusted sound and elbows her way over to me. “You haven’t even introduced yourself to your girlfriend’s brother and you’re talking about spanking? Jesus H. Christ, Ash. Anyone would think you were raised by wolves.”

  She stops and gets this weird look on her face. We stare at each other for a second and then burst out laughing until my stitches hurt. I’m not sure if the tears streaming down my face are from joy, hysterics, or pain, but fuck it, I feel alive.

  “Well, guys, this is Nate. He’s my sociopath half-brother and we’ve decided to keep in touch. He also approves of our relationship.”

  Nate speaks without looking at any of us, “I didn’t say I approved. I said I don't care, and as long as you’re happy I won’t kill them.”

  Avery swipes a hand over her own wet cheeks and shrugs at him. “It’s a start. Avery Beaumont, lovely to meet you. Thank you for saving
Lips. Losing her would have been unbearable.”

  Nate nods. I don’t understand what the threat is that he’s staring at the door so obsessively, but I decide to let it go. He’s here, and he cares enough to kill for me and watch my back while I’m down.

  It’s more than my parents ever gave me.

  Nate doesn’t move from his chair for hours.

  The guys all take it in turns sitting in my bed with me, forcing me to eat jello and snarling at the nurses to give me more drugs when I start wincing. Avery sits at my bedside and has a death grip on my hand at all times, like if she lets go I’ll disappear again.

  It’s fucking perfect.

  Atticus sits in the corner on his phone, completely ignoring us all, and Ash keeps watching him like he’s going to knife him in the kidneys the second Avery isn’t paying attention. I raise an eyebrow at him but it only makes him smirk back at me.

  “Maybe wait until the drugs wear off before trying to look stern, Mounty. You look like a pouting toddler.”

  Well, fuck.

  Illi brings Odie in to see me with pizza for lunch, which the guys inhale like it’s their last meal on death row, and Avery refuses to touch it. She’s looking exhausted, and I kick Blaise out of my bed to bully her into it for a nap. She’s out like a freaking light the second her head touches the pillow.

  Nate watches her for a second and then says, “I didn’t think such a spoiled princess could be as tough as her. She’ll be a good influence for Poe.”

  Atticus glances away from his phone for the first time and, hoo boy, I’d put money on Nate skinning him alive for the look he gives him. “She’s not spoiled, she’s just from a different class than your sisters. Anyone who isn’t a biker brat would look like a princess to you.”

  Nate’s head tilts. “Last person who called my sister a biker brat ended up being put through a wood chipper. The noises he made were the sweetest sounds.”

  Atticus holds his eyes for another second and then flicks his attention back to me. “Your friendship with the Butcher makes more sense to me now, knowing that ‘deranged psychotic killer’ is in your blood.”