She said when I looked at the world, I looked through a haze. Smiled, so full of affection and warmth that it hurt, to see. Called me Hazy Girl, and it stuck.
I smile, and blink away the memory. “Yeah, Mama. I’m okay.”
She doesn’t push me, just gives me a worried sort of look, and backs away, going to fill coffee for someone else.
I look at the phone again.
Hazel: Meet me at Mama’s. Hurry.
They hate it.
Both of them.
In the end, it doesn’t matter. We aren’t playing by Archer and Eli’s rules. Not this time. The strings are still being pulled by Michael and Hanna.
So we go.
All three of us, together, and I will never tell them, but it feels right. Being together, like this, even with the uncertainty and danger. It feels right.
Chapter 31
Three killers, two cops, and a journalist walk into a bar.
Sounds like a bad joke, right? It's not.
It's the end--dear god I hope it's the end--of the worst day if my life.
I just hope we all walk out alive.
Chapter 32
The Black Prism isn’t a bar. Not really. It’s a club, and it belongs to Seamus King.
Slimy bastard. Eli and I have been watching him for years, but there’s never been anything we could actually pin on him.
Somehow I don’t think that today will change that. The Prism isn’t being offered up so King can bare his neck for the GCPD.
“Eli,” I murmur, and he nods, pulling Hazel close. She huffs her displeasure but doesn’t argue as I walk deeper into the empty club.
“Drink, gentlemen?”
I suck in a breath as I see King behind the bar. He’s got a cocky sort of smile on his lips. Like this is a grand adventure and a big joke.
Like he knows damn well that whatever happens, he’s walking out of here.
“Where are they?” Hazel demands, leaning forward.
“Patience, darling. You’ve done beautifully.”
“King!”
The voice is like a nightmare. Shrill and taunting and furious, and so fucking familiar. Eli makes a low noise, all rage and hurt and I step toward my brother, catching his eye. King lifts a hand, and I realize something.
We’re still in the shadows. Deep in the shadows, where it is too easy for us to be overlooked.
Hazel realizes it too, at the same instance, and her gasp is only just barely muffled.
We aren’t here to participate.
We’re observers.
Scarlett Materson stalks from a long hall at the back of the bar. She looks the same as she’s always looked—small, and beautiful and dark. Dark brown hair pulled up into a tight pony tail. Tight black pants and a red top that highlights all her best features.
And she’s furious.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, and King gives her a bland look. “You said you’d control the McGreys. That they wouldn’t be a problem for Morningstar.”
“I did,” King says agreeably.
“Then what the actual fuck is this?”
She throws down a tablet, and I feel Hazel give this little twitch, a smirk turning her lips.
“That, Scarlett, looks like an expose.”
“How the fuck do you consider this controlling them?”
“Calm down,” a deep male voice orders, and Hazel shivers. Scarlett stops, abruptly, like a puppet with cut strings.
Rusty Watson looks different than the last time I saw him. Less wrecked. There is grief, in those dark eyes of his. A set of world-weary and defeated to his shoulders that I’d bet was new.
But he doesn’t look like he’s one strong word away from falling apart.
We really should have talked to Crystal’s father. “King.”
“You expect me to control them when your tortured their fucking sister?” King snarls. “You’ve met John, haven’t you? The boy is an animal. And Michael let him off leash—for what you did. Don’t blame me if that mess lands on you.”
There’s a moment of utter silence, and then Rusty snarls and lunges forward. “That was my family, you bastard!” he roars.
“Calm down,” Scarlett shouts, throwing herself into Rusty and knocking him away from King.
“I told you when you attacked her, that there would be consequences. You should have left them the fuck alone,” King spits.
“I’m going to kill them,” Rusty says, softly, almost to himself and Scarlett sighs.
“There’s no fucking way I’m letting those bastards kill my family like that, and—”
“We didn’t kill them all,” Michael says.
The reaction is instant. Rusty’s pulled a gun and trained it on Michael before the words die. Fury rippling through him.
How the fuck did I think that the grief stricken father was anything other than a threat?
How did I buy into that fucking act?
“You’re a stupid bastard, coming here,” Rusty breathes.
Michael spreads his hands, and shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe, if my brother doesn’t hear from me in the next fifteen minutes, he kills the kid. Maybe, if my sister doesn’t hear from me, she sends every file and document we’ve ever copied from our mother to the cops.” He stills. “Maybe I am stupid. But I’m not so stupid that you’ll shoot me here and not feel the consequences.”
“And maybe I don’t give a fuck.” Rusty spits, stepping forward.
Michael laughs. “You should have left us alone. That’s all we wanted.”
“You wanted to ruin her,” Scarlett snarls and Michael turns his gaze on the girl who destroyed my brother, once.
“No, we didn’t. But Hanna does want to take everything from her.”
The words stutter. Catch. Rusty’s face twitches into confusion and I hear Eli’s snarled curse, hear Hazel gasping his name. But it’s all distant. So fucking far away.
The only thing that makes sense, that makes it through the haze of confusion, is the gun.
Michael’s hand, filled with the black metal of the gun, and Scarlett’s eyes, so wide and startled.
The echoing report of it, and she makes a noise. Something like a gasp, all wet and stunned and pained.
Eli howls, a noise that is too full of loss to make any kind of sense.
Nothing makes sense.
Not a fucking thing about this town.
“GCPD!” I shout, yanking out my gun and stepping forward. Michael is smiling, folding to his knees, a content little thing. He’s dropped his gun, and his hands are behind his head. He knew. He knew this would be how it ended. That it would always end like this.
Eli is crouched next to Scarlett, and she’s gasping for breath, blood pouring from the bullet wound in her chest. Her eyes are wide and cloudy with pain, but she smiles. The bitch touches his face, with bloody fingers, and she smiles as she dies.
“Archer,” Hazel says, urgently. “Where the fuck is Gabe?”
“I keep my promises, Hazel,” Michael. “King made sure we always kept our promises.
Go home.”
He smiles at her, then, and I want to punch him. Want to drag my brother away from the whore on the ground.
Rusty is gone.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, and then he goes limp and silent. Patient and secretive as I call in the arrest.
Chapter 33
It takes a few weeks, for things to settle. The County is anxious and on edge after the killing spree, and with Rusty Watson still on the loose.
I hear more than most of the public. Having a brother on the case helps.
So I hear, before it hits the papers, that Michael is dead. Poison in his cell.
They find John and Hanna a few days later, on the sprawling farm they grew up in.
It was the plan, from the very beginning. There was no happy ending for them. They were too—everything. Too volatile, too dangerous, too, too, too.
Some of the public distrust and nerves settled, after that.
; But it’s going to take time. Especially since we know that Morningstar is still out there. Still seething, like a silent secret, under the surface of the County.
It's been two weeks but things are finally settling into a normal. For us, that means this.
Finally.
We're having family dinner, because Nora pitched a fit.
And that is a whole different nervous-making ball of worms.
She's in my kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the side dishes. I can hear Archer and Eli arguing over the chicken Archer is grilling. It strings a smile across my lips, and some of the tension in my chest eases.
“When were you planning on telling me?”
I pause and look at her. She's sprinkling cheese on the pasta salad and I have no clue what she's talking about.
“C’mon, Hazel. You don't think I raised you and him and somehow managed to miss that the two of you have been in love since you were fourteen.”
I pale and she laughs. “You knew?”
“Of course I knew. Why the hell do you think I gave you and him so much space? You and Archer are perfect for each other and always have been because you allow yourself to be there for each other. You've been working together like an old married couple since you were old enough to care about boys. I never thought you'd be stupid enough to run away from him.” She cocks her head at me, her gaze fierce but loving.
Demanding and understanding. All the things Nora has always been. “You two can destroy each other. Or you can be the best thing that's ever happened to either of you. Don't run from that.”
“It scares me,” I say, quietly.
“The best things in life do, Hazy girl.” she answers, calmly. “Now go get your boys before they burn down the back porch.”
My boys. What she's always called them.
Makes sense. If she knew how I felt about Archer, she wouldn't continue to call him my brother.
I leave the cake I’ve finally finished frosting on the table and head to the back of the house. Eli is headed into the house, and Archer. Well. Archer is being utterly Archer. He’s gathering trash from the porch and watching the grill as the fire slowly dies.
He looks so right, there. Like he was never gone.
“Are you happy, sis?” Eli asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Feel a little guilty about it, but. Yeah. I am.”
“Why feel guilty?”
I focus on him. He’s watching me, those hazel eyes of his puppy sad and sweet.
“Because you lost someone you cared about.”
He takes a shuddery breath, and his eyes close. We haven’t talked about it, how Eli is dealing with the sudden death of Scarlett. We haven’t talked about how withdrawn and moody he’s been.
Oh, he’s been present. He was at Gabe’s when we found him, tied up and unconscious in his bedroom. He was there at the hospital when Gabe woke up and stayed until my grumpy best friend threw him out, and his brother arrived.
But he’s been quiet. Archer is worried, even if he isn’t talking about it much.
“I’m okay,” he says, now, slowly. Quietly.
Impulsively, I hug him and his arms come around me, almost too tight. He’s clinging to me, a subtle tremor running through him, and I bury my head in the crook of his neck. Whisper, softly. “You’re allowed to miss her, Lijah,”
“She wasn’t a good person, Hazel.”
“We don’t always love good people. Doesn’t make losing them easier.”
Eli stares at me, turning that over. I lean up and kiss his cheek and Archer makes a low noise in his throat as he enters. “Back off, Lijah. I called dibs.”
I give my boyfriend a hard stare. “You called dibs.”
He grins at me, completely unrepentant and I roll my eyes at him. But all of the annoyance fades away as he tugs me into him. His lips covering mine. And everything fades away.
Archer makes everything fade away, with his big hands on my hips, holding me close, licking into my mouth like I’m the air he needs to live.
Far away, I can hear Eli gagging, and Nora shushing him, her voice soft. I can hear Gabe and Aiden arriving, and my best friend’s laughter and mocking.
It’s not perfect. There are still so many secrets in the County, and the people I care about are hurting.
But Archer is here, and I’m in his arms. Surrounded by our family.
It doesn’t have to be perfect, to be right. And this has always been right.
Dirty Stolen Forever
Green County Book 2
By Nazarea Andrews
Click here to purchase
Colt Rayburn loved Aiden Delvin, once. A lifetime ago. Before duty and the Marines took him a world away, chewed him up and spit him out. Aiden would have waited forever for Colt to come back. But Colt didn’t want that, and he’s rebuilt his life. Without the man he loves.
When Colt comes home from a deployment that went wrong, Aiden is there. Inexplicably back in Green County and impossible to resist. He swore he’d never go back to that place, never destroy Aiden the way he had when he walked away the first time.
But Aiden grew up and changed too, while Colt played war hero.
Both of them know what they want. After all this time. But can a love story that destroyed them once be rebuilt, when life and duty still hangs over them both…
About the Author
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories.
When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids.
She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, The Blood Scion Saga, and The University of Branton Series, as well as Before & After and Fatal Beauty. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
AUTHOR LINKS:
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Also From Nazarea Andrews
Green County Series:
Dirty Sexy Secret
Dirty Stolen Forever
Sweet Ugly Lies
Crazy Beautiful Love (coming early 2018)
Wicked Ever After
Wicked Charming
Wicked Beauty
Wicked Wolf
Bite the Hand That Bleeds
A Mission Series Short Story
By Megan Erickson
Chapter One
I’d done a lot of stupid things in my life for money, but agreeing to go to a vampire club took the cake as the stupidest.
Basically this could go one of two ways—I’d regret it tremendously or it’d be the time of my life that I took to my grave. As long as this didn’t put me in my grave. That was up for debate.
“I wish they’d hurry up already.” Cassie rubbed her bare arms against the chill as we waited at the head of the darkened alley.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “I’m sorry, do you want to tell the vampires that that they need to adhere to Cassie Time because you forgot a damn coat?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “I didn’t bother. Javier said it’s hot as hell in the club.”
Right, I figured free-flowing blood and orgies had a way of heating up a room. When Cassie pursed her lips at me, I realized I’d said that out loud. Ooops.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot to take pressure off these stupid heels I was wearing. They were bright red with silver spikes and sexy as hell—but they pinched my toes. Drawing attention to myself in Mission City was on my never ever do list, and these shoes—along with my skin-tight jeans, and black corset peeking from beneath my leather jacket—would draw all kinds of a
ttention. I wasn’t sure why I was wearing this, but the dress code for humans to get into Bite was sex. Seriously that was the message—dress like sex. I didn’t think a giant dick was a proper costume, so here I stood with my tits out in a bad part of Mission, hoping like hell some vampire arrived soon to take me underground, where I’d give up my blood for money.
My life was insane.
A week ago, I’d been living in blissful ignorance that vampires only existed in books and movies. I had no idea that in old subway tunnels beneath these streets was a community of vampires. They kept their existence a secret, but were more than happy to pay humans if we showed them a vein. The only reason Cassie and I got an invite to Bite was because Javier—a hookup of Cassie’s—was a recruiter for them. He’d been clear—tell anyone about the club and there would be swift consequences. I’d asked what they were, and Javier had just stared hard at me. So naturally I took that to mean the consequences were torture and dismemberment not unlike the end of Braveheart.
For once, I was going to keep my mouth shut, because I needed that money. My dad had never been around, and my mom passed away years ago, so it was up to me to keep food on the table for myself and my younger brother. I’d spent the last month working four ten-hour waitress shifts in a row at the diner, so I was happy to do literally anything else for cash. The blood trade apparently paid great, so when Javier told us about Bite, I jumped at the chance. Why not? As for Cassie, she bussed tables as a cocktail waitress at a topless bar and was about done getting her ass grabbed without her permission.
I’d even done my hair, which was a first in…who knew how long. I hadn’t had a haircut in probably a year, and the ends of my dark brown hair brushed the top of my ass. I’d straightened it and let it down. Even Cassie was surprised not to see it in its ever-present knot.
A loud crack sounded out on the street, and Cassie and I jumped. Fuck, I hated this city sometimes. That could have been anything from a car backfiring, to fireworks, to a gunshot. There weren’t really any good parts of Mission. The city had long ago fallen into poverty after the steel mill went out of business. But where we stood? The worst of the worst.
1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve Page 47