Devil's Reach Trilogy: Books 1-3

by J. L. Drake

  Morgan sat down in front of me, his face a mirror of mine. “I don’t get it, man. I have so many questions. Why was she in the van? How did she get in the church? How did she get by me?” He rubbed his head, no doubt in the same thick fog I was livin’ in. “But most of all, how the hell did she get from the church out to the main road? To wherever?” His head dropped down in his hands, and we were back in our silent space again.

  How was I supposed to move forward when everything inside my body desperately needed to go back? I needed a chance to explain. A chance to say I how sorry I was. A chance to say I loved her.

  ***

  Tess

  The last two days gave me a chance to sort out my feelings, and it was one hell of an adventure. Someday, I would allow myself to go back and process when it didn’t hurt so much.

  I didn’t leave out of shame and embarrassment because Trigger found out about my past, or that he couldn’t love me in spite of it. I knew I was unlovable. That had been proven to me at an early age. Trigger just drove that home.

  No, I left because I loved Trigger. I would do anything for him, including face my past to protect him and the one family I knew and loved. The Devil’s Reach.

  I stood in front of the metal gates, punched in the code, and walked down the long driveway toward the house that was almost out of sight from the street.

  The key was not in its usual place, and I had tossed my set long ago.

  Three knocks, and I heard the whir of the camera as it turned to focus on me. My face grew hot, and I could almost hear the whispers and the exchange of bets.

  Yup, that’s right. I’m back.

  The door slowly opened, and there he stood, handsome as ever. He smiled at me and leaned against the doorframe. I never thought I’d be back in this position again.

  “Welcome home, Tessa.”

  “Clark.”

  The End

  Prologue

  I squeezed the clutch, rolled the throttle toward me, and switched into fifth gear. The wheels screamed as they tore at the pavement, blurring the colors around me.

  I was pissed. They knew better than to pull this shit on my territory.

  Traffic was heavy for midnight, but I managed to take the back roads and alleys most of the way.

  The fire was high, which meant the match would soon be over, and my blood burned through my ears when I came up over the dusty hill. I’d been more than fair with these guys, but since they disobeyed a direct order, blood would be shed.

  As soon as my engine was heard over the screams, the massive crowd jumped out of the way and let me swing my bike into the center of the commotion.

  Both men pulled the savage dogs apart and dropped them at their feet.

  I rested my bike on the kickstand and removed my helmet. A few people ran away, and others tried to see who I was.

  I pointed right at the local drug runner, who mostly sold shitty weed, and waited for him to sweat it out.

  “Trigger, man, I know what you said, but…”

  I tuned him out and looked down at the pit bull. His throat was mangled, and he struggled to breathe and let out the tiniest whimper. A plea to end this shit.

  He never asked for this life, never asked to fight to his death for a few hundred bucks.

  I couldn’t help but see my own reflection in his eyes. See the hate rooted deep, entangled to his core. No peace, only darkness.

  “I needed the cash, man. My sister is in trouble, and my ma is strung out.” The drug dealer tried a different angle.

  I raised my gun and pointed it at the junkie while I whistled for Brick and Rail to remove the dog to a safer place. At least he could die somewhere peaceful, if only for a moment.

  “What the fuck, man? He had another fight left in him.”

  I swung around and punched him so hard he blew back off his feet and landed next to the winning dog, who was foaming at the mouth.

  The owner looked around while he fought to hold back the hungry dog.

  “I said no dog fights.” My voice boomed over the crowd. “Not on my territory.”

  No one said a word as I took the rope and pushed the owner next to the drug dealer. I leaned down and stroked the dog’s back. He started to bark and whip around at my touch. Something I understood all too well.

  “Go,” I said simply and let the rope race through my fingers.

  The crowd went still as the dog ripped apart the two men limb by limb. Blood covered his head, and screams flooded into the night.

  Chapter One

  Tess

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I glanced up from my book and saw the man again. I had noticed him at least a couple of times over the last few days. He moved closer. He wore a suit and tie, but he pulled at his collar as if he were uncomfortable in it.

  He sat forward on his stool and shifted it closer, and his Hershey-brown gaze held mine. He pushed up the spine of the book, and his brows rose.

  “Nora Roberts? Isn’t that a little old for a…?” He waited for me to answer.

  “Ten, and no.” I glanced around the room. “When you grow up here, mister, nothing is left to the imagination.”

  He smiled, and his mouth rose higher on one side. His hair was a little longer than most of the men in here, but it was styled as if each strand had its own place. “Fair enough.”

  I waited for him to leave, but he unbuttoned his jacket and made himself comfortable. I went back to reading then felt his eyes on me again. I looked up to find him smiling, as if waiting for me to answer something I missed.

  “What?”

  “You never answered my question.”

  Huh?

  “What’s your name?”

  I studied him for a beat before I finally let my guard down. “Tess.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tess. I’m Clark.”

  “You wearin’ Spandex under your suit?”

  He paused before he broke into a husky laugh, which immediately put me more at ease. “Yes. Is it showing?”

  “You may want to fix your collar.”

  He tugged at it dramatically. “Better?”

  “It’ll do.”

  “Clark Anderson?” Rachel, the receptionist, called in our direction. “We’re ready for you.”

  My stomach sank and reality came crashing down when I remembered he had an appointment at the house. He must have picked up on my mood, because he frowned before he rose and fastened his coat.

  “Have a nice day, Tess.”

  “Yeah.” I broke open my book and sank back into a fantasy world where everything was okay.

  The door opened, and there he stood, handsome as ever. He smiled at me and leaned against the doorframe. I never thought I’d be back in this position again.

  “Clark.”

  “Welcome home, Tessa.”

  His smirk rose on the one side as his gaze dragged down my front then snapped back up to my face. He looked smug, as always.

  “Guess I won the bet.” He opened the door for me to walk through. His chest was a little smaller than I remembered, and his arms had lost a little of their sexy curve. “About time you finally listened to me.”

  I rolled my eyes and shifted the heavy bag over my shoulder. “I’m not staying for long.”

  “You’re not leaving again.” He grabbed my wrist and turned me to face him. His expression darkened. “I’ll make this work.”

  My insides twisted. There was a time when I would have sold my soul for him to utter those words to me, but now…

  “I’ve heard your empty promises before.” I eyed his hand, and after a beat, he let go. “You made your choice.”

  “It’s not like that…” His voice trailed off when he saw a woman move forward to block me. “Felicia, look who came home.”

  My mother’s face contorted with hate, as it did whenever we were in the same room. Her hands landed on her slim waist wrapped in a velvet corset and a gray silk robe that flowed about her with feather-like softness as she walked.
This was the expected dress in the house—lingerie and heels. My mother was stunning and knew it. Everyone said we were sisters, and she’d reply, “She’s older.”

  “You need money?”

  There’s my loving mother.

  “Felicia.” Clark cleared his throat and nodded at two men who stood within earshot.

  I saw her pull her mask down, and her tone came out a little less harsh.

  “If you’re back, you work as one of the girls. I already have a shitty receptionist, and I don’t need another.”

  I hid my sudden nerves. I once worked the front desk but was soon pulled onto the stage. Whenever there was talk about me working as “one of the girls,” I nearly flipped the fuck out. I promised I’d never lower myself to my mother’s level. No one was allowed to touch me on stage, and I felt safe, so now…my hand flew to my stomach as it took a dive.

  When I started to speak, she shot me a look, and I swallowed my words. Now wasn’t the time for this. Besides, the men were approaching us.

  “Work or leave. Your choice, Tessa.”

  I cringed whenever she used my full name, but at this point, I had thirty-five cents and maybe some lint in my pocket. What was I supposed to do? Plus, I needed to know what Clark had on Trigger.

  “Fine,” I hissed, and Clark flinched. “I’m going to shower.”

  My mother dismissed me when she greeted the men, linking her arms with theirs to steer them away from me. Clark made a move to get in front of me, but I dodged and left him to deal with his new clients.

  I was shocked to find my room was the same as I had left it, empty and over the top like the rest of the house. The walls were swathed in red velvet that matched the drapes and canopy. The black bedspread was satin and had fancy buttons that dimpled the fabric to give it a pillow-like effect. A shag rug lay at the foot of the bed where I stood feeling unbelievably lonely.

  I dropped my bag and sat on the edge of the mattress. The idea of going backward in my life scared the shit out of me, but there I was, standing in the very spot I promised I wouldn’t be again. This place had broken me more than once. I could only imagine what it would do this time around.

  Laughter drew me out to the balcony. I saw Clark with his arm around my mother’s waist as they showed the guests the pool, and then they moved off to where I knew there were underground personal hot tubs reserved for the VIPs.

  I rested my arms on the marble rail and let my mind wander.

  It all started out with warm smiles and conversations that made me incredibly happy and sometimes made me blush. He often came into my room after dark. He would close the door and sit on the edge of my bed and pay me compliments. He was such a gentleman then.

  “You have such pretty eyes, Tessa. They’re like little gumdrops with a sugar coating.” His hand would gently brush over mine. He would talk to me about TV shows or music. He would ask questions and listen to my replies like he was really interested in what I had to say. He usually stayed about an hour, and as he left, he would always turn and repeat the same words as he went out the door. “I love that we have secrets, Tessa. Secrets mean we’re close, and I want to stay close to you.”

  I craved attention from him, and maybe I knew deep down inside that it wasn’t right to have a much older man as a friend, but I didn’t care. The world I lived in was all about sex, and had been from day one. I knew a lot for my age, and I wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t like the rest of the people here.

  I wasn’t wrong at the beginning. I never thought how it might look. All I cared about was that this man was paying attention to me. Finally, for once in my life, someone cared about me.

  When I focused on my surroundings again, I caught Clark staring at me. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned to leave when I heard my mother snicker at him to focus on her.

  He made his choice a long time ago. I was just too stupid to see it.

  The hot water pounded against my skin as I washed away the grime from the Greyhound bus. Desert dirt swirled around my feet before it flowed into the drain, leaving me behind. I moved my fingers around my ribs and felt how sore they were, then probed my lower stomach, which hurt like crazy too. Blue and yellow still marred my flesh, and I wondered how long it would take for it to go away. Everything was so fucked up…what the hell happened? My throat constricted, and my eyes prickled.

  “No.” I pressed my hands against the cool tile and forced my head anywhere but there. Trigger’s wild eyes flashed in front of me, and my guts twisted.

  “Stop.” I breathed through the tears to control my emotions.

  Just as I was about to open the door to my bedroom, I heard another door shut.

  “Hello?” I tightened the towel around my chest. “Mom? Rachel?”

  Nothing.

  I stepped into the room and glanced around. It appeared to be empty. I needed to remember the number one rule of the house. If you weren’t entertaining, you locked the door to your bedroom.

  With the remote in my hand, I turned on some music to help drown out my thoughts. Chris Stapleton’s “Fire Away” softly flowed throughout the room, easing the nerves that had attacked my stomach.

  Suddenly, I honed in on a dark blue corset with black ribbon and lace that was laid out on my bed along with a pair of heels. So, I had heard an intruder.

  “Shit.” I ran my hand along the garter clips then noticed my jeans and tank top were missing. I whirled around to see my Chuck Taylors were gone too. “No!” I swiped my bare foot under my bed and caught the strap to my bag that I had slipped under there earlier. Tugging it free, I clung to it as I searched for a safe place to keep it. My hand cupped the heavy grip through the fabric, and I hoped to God the safety was on. I pulled on the armoire and freed it from the wall and peeled back the paneling. My secret place. When I was younger, I found this little space when the painters were working on my room. I used to hide all my books and cash there. My bag fit perfectly inside, along with my beloved camera.

  I hated this place.

  I glanced in the mirror one last time and recognized my worst nightmare. I had become my mother. I cringed and closed my eyes. This was only temporary. I tried to use my fingers to soothe the achy spots, but the bone inlay of the corset didn’t help.

  Draping the cool silk robe along my arms, it rested around mid-thigh and flowed around me like a cape. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for me. Better to save face now than look like I was hiding.

  I shook off my nerves and headed downstairs.

  ***

  Trigger

  Two weeks later

  Radiohead pounded through the slaughter room. The beat vibrated through the bottoms of my feet, up my legs, and filled the dark space inside my chest.

  The three men who sat across from me had been stripped of their clothes and sat naked in a line. Sweat dripped from their foreheads and settled along their brows.

  “Choose.” The word eased off my lips.

  The first man shook as he glanced at his options. His skinny fingers skimmed over the lineup of weapons.

  In front of them were a hunting knife, pliers, bleach, a gun, and a pair of brass knuckles.

  He tapped the gun and closed his eyes.

  I raised the pistol and blew a hole in the center of his face.

  One down.

  The second started to cry. His chest pumped in fear, and his hand rubbed the side of his head.

  “You had your chance to leave, but you didn’t.” I placed the gun back in the lineup and sat back, waiting to see what he wanted. I couldn’t care less. I was bored and wanted to feel something, but like the last few weeks, I felt nothing. “Choose.”

  “And if I don’t?” he challenged as his bloodshot eyes searched the room for a way out.

  “Then I do.”

  He knew better and looked over at his friend, who was in total shock.

  “Fuck! Gun, the gun!”

  I rolled my eyes and wished Brick hadn’t suggested it at the last m
inute. I slid the weapon over in front of him. He looked up at me, confused.

  “You do it.”

  “Me?”

  “Five, four…” I started to count.

  “This shit for real?” He looked at Brick, then Morgan, who both were behind me.

  “Three, two, one.” I snatched the gun away. “Now I choose.”

  With a flick of my wrist, I flung the gun off the table and rammed the knife into his neck. I turned and used my momentum to kick the last guy’s hand away from the brass knuckles. He screamed but stayed put as Brick held his gun to his cheek.

  I twisted the blade into his jugular and felt it tear. He slumped in his seat, and I released him and turned back to the last pathetic excuse for a man.

  I shoved the table out from between us and leaned down with my hands on the armrests. Hovering just above his shaky head, I waited for him to look me in the eye.

  “Where’s Mateo?”

  His eyes closed as he mumbled a prayer.

  Enough of this shit!

  I snatched Brick’s gun and shot the asshole in the thigh. He screamed, and I grabbed his sweaty head and yanked it back to look at me.

  “Where’s Mateo?”

  “Ah!” he shouted, but I saw he was close to the edge.

  “Matching set it is, then.” I shot the other thigh.

  He bucked and tried to slide off his seat, but my fingers found the gaping hole and dug deep.

  “You like to fuck with me? Allow me to repay the favor.” I fished around and felt bone fragments.

  “Him and Tiago!” He huffed between screams. “They are hiding up north somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know!” He stared up at me, the skin around his mouth growing paler as the seconds ticked by. His eyes became dull, and I saw his soul packing up its shit to leave.

  Fuck.

  “Why did you stay behind?”

  He squinted as he tried to form a thought. “They’re not done with her yet.”