The Vengeful Thief (Stolen Hearts Book 5)

by Mallory Crowe

  Slade blinked a few times as he thought about his son running around in the same living room as him. Causing trouble and this woman, Olivia, running after him and trying to keep order.

  He wouldn’t even know what Josh looked like now. The thought shamed him, but for so long it was how he protected himself. He didn’t want to look at even a picture and see the best thing he and Lacey had ever done. Because if he looked at that picture and saw even the slightest evidence of Lacey there, he would be on his bike in seconds, coming to town and pulling Josh into his arms.

  And that would be the worst possible thing for both of them. Now he didn’t have a choice, though.

  He kept an eye on the woman. This was on the edge of the South, depending on who you asked, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Melissa kept a shotgun handy for home protection. He was packing his Glock, but he didn’t want to get into a shootout with Olivia. He’d already caused her enough trouble for one night.

  But instead of going for a gun, she went for the small black item next to one of the armchairs. A landline phone, he realized belatedly. He reached her and grabbed the phone by the time she’d entered in a few numbers. He hit the end call button just to be safe and glared at her. “Who were you calling?”

  She stared at him defiantly. “Your sister,” she said with a bite of accusation, obviously not fully believing his story yet.

  Good. He wouldn’t respect her if she believed everything she was told. But as much as he liked that quality, it wasn’t making his night any easier.

  “I agree that I need to talk to her, but I think our first meeting should be in person, not on the phone, don’t you agree?”

  She narrowed her eyes, and at that moment, he would pay money to know what she was thinking. But then he didn’t have to wonder because she came right out and said it. “When you were a kid and your father got into his moods, you’d hide Melissa from him. Where would you hide her?”

  He blinked in shock. Not at the fact that she was trying to verify who he was. He liked that. He was shocked that Melissa would tell her. How close were this woman and his sister? How much did she know about the details of his fucked-up past? “I took her in the bucket of an abandoned dirt hauler out in the back woods.” He studied Olivia’s face for any shock or surprise. “It was up high enough that he would never even bother to look for us. A bitch to get into, but once we were there, we would never be found unless we wanted to be.”

  Olivia bit her bottom lip and he knew that even though he’d given the right answer, she wasn’t the least bit assured.

  He knew it was too little too late, but he added, “I’m sorry for walking in on you. After I heard about what almost happened to Josh, I was desperate to find him.”

  Her hand went to run along her arm again and then it clicked.

  He pointed to her and said, “Liv?”

  She took a step back and eyed him warily as he continued.

  “You’re the one who saved him. You jumped in front of the van that was trying to take Josh.”

  Even though he hadn’t said anything bad, she looked as though he’d just shined a spotlight on her. “I, um, yes, I was the one there.”

  “I read an article about you. They didn’t call you Olivia, though. Do you prefer to be called Liv?” He was trying his damnedest to be patient and not lose his temper, but it seemed like the nicer he was as he spoke to her, the more confused she got.

  “I prefer to be called Ms. Marton to random guys I don’t know,” she said—oddly prim considering the circumstances.

  “Okay, Ms. Marton, can you please tell me where my son is?”

  She kept on rubbing her hand up and down her arm. He remembered reading that she’d been injured when she stopped the van. He assumed that if the arm had been broken, it would be in a cast, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still hurt. Damn, he wished he’d known that before he’d restrained her. He still would’ve hurt her, but he could’ve been more gentle about it.

  “One,” she said in a voice that told him he wasn’t about to get what he wanted, “you haven’t seen Josh in years and you have no right to walk in here, demanding to see him. Two, if we are going to tell him you’re alive, and I’m not saying that at all, we have to be careful about the way we do it. Three, we’re not doing a damn thing until we talk to Melissa, and I’m not interrupting her date to announce her long-lost pain-in-the-ass brother who apparently faked his death and saddled her with a baby, who we admittedly love but that’s not the point, is back in town.”

  He looked past all the insults in that and zeroed in on the most important part. “Wait, Melissa is on a date?”

  “She’s an adult, beautiful woman. She’s allowed to date.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about her dating. If you’re here alone and she’s on a date, then where is my son?”

  “Hold your judgment there, absentee dad. Josh is fine. He’s sleeping over at a friend’s house.”

  He had tried to be nice and patient with her, but his frustration bubbled over. “Someone just tried to kidnap him and you’re letting him sleep over at a friend’s?” He screamed the words as he closed the distance between them.

  Liv squared her shoulders and held her ground as she stared him down. “Hey, I used my very solid judgment, and the parents of this friend are well aware of the situation. Considering how all the other parents started to treat him like a pariah, something a lot of parents already did because he has two mommies, I thought it was important for people to see him as a normal kid and not someone in witness protection. Besides, it’s just a few houses down so if anything happens, he can get home easy.”

  Slade turned away and started for the door.

  She must’ve realized her mistake immediately. “Wait! You big lug, I wasn’t telling you where they were!”

  He didn’t stop even as he heard her following him. She was allowed to follow him if she wanted. He was going to do whatever he needed to in order to make sure Josh was safe, and there was nothing Olivia Marton could do to stop him, no matter how ingrained the feel and image of her hot body was in his mind.

  Gage checked his phone again, but there was no word from Slade. Which was... good? No news was good news in this case. If he had gotten to town and found his son missing again, Gage figured that he’d be the first one to know.

  The bar was a step above divey, he’d say. The wood floors looked as if they’d seen a fight or two, but the clientele seemed to be reasonable blue-collar folk. Strange, considering he had grown up around factory workers and coal miners, but now he just felt like an outsider. He straightened his designer black button-down shirt and wished his brand-new jeans looked a little more worn. Maybe he should roll around in the woods a few times to fit in with this crowd more. Nah, he would never do it to these jeans. They deserved better than that.

  He strode up to the bar and took a seat at the less crowded end. The cute bartender had long brown hair that went below her ass, and her tank top revealed a generous amount of cleavage and the ink that decorated her arms, back, and décolletage. Some of it was quality work, but most was purely mediocre, which was a shame. Someone as cute as that deserved to have her body treated like a work of art.

  She didn’t pay him much mind at first, and he wasn’t sure whether that meant she was shitty at her job or whether she was proving a point that locals always came first when it came to serving drinks.

  That was fine. He was in no hurry. He scanned the room and sized up all the other women around him. There were a few with wedding rings, a few with a guy on their arm. Some were a bit older than his age range and some were younger. Some were in packs and some were alone. The lone ones were always easier to talk to, but sometimes there was a reason a woman went to a bar alone. Because they were crazy. But if they were in a pack, the other ladies in the group tended to work as a bit of a shield. Which was only a problem if you didn’t have enough charm to get them to like you, which wasn’t a problem for him.

  The bartender finally turned her atten
tion to him and he ordered a local beer on draft. When he ordered local, that earned him a little smile of approval from the girl before she promptly went back to ignoring him. Well, he supposed that was some progress. He took a sip and glanced around once more, trying to figure out his next move. He could get a motel for the night. Slade had given him the name of some place close by.

  But that seemed a lot more cold and lonely than finding someone to pass the night with. He spotted a cute little blonde hanging out with two of her friends in the back corner. After taking one deep swig of the beer, he pushed away and started going through a mental roster of all of his best pickup lines. However, before he even got up, the door to the bar pushed open and the brunette who came in took his breath away.

  He’d always heard the expression before, but never truly understood what it meant until now. His lungs seemed to forget how to work and all he was physically capable of doing was watching her as she made her way through the tables and patrons until she was leaning against the aged wood bar right next to him.

  He somehow managed to expand his lungs and take in enough oxygen to keep himself going as he realized he wasn’t the only one watching this beauty. A majority of the female and male eyes also followed her progress—the men with interest and the women with curiosity. She must be a local because the bartender was immediately over to his side of the bar again.

  “Everything okay, Mel? I heard you were on a date tonight.”

  The woman, Mel, sighed and ran a hand through her thick black hair, pushing it out of her face, revealing stunning cheekbones and ice-blue eyes. Gage forced himself not to stare and tried to appear nonchalant as he sipped his drink even as he kept on listening to her conversation.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said the woman. “Please give me anything that will make me forget that I ever had a date tonight.”

  “Long Island.” The bartender winked. “I got you, babe.”

  Mel smiled in thanks and then let her head fall into her hands as she leaned against the bar, apparently contemplating her terrible date that night.

  Gage tried to figure out what he’d done to become so lucky. Here he was looking for a place to sleep and the literal embodiment of his fantasies walks in after clearly having a shitty night. So all he had to do was be better than whatever schmuck had made the first half of her evening hell.

  Well, he’d work his hardest to make sure the rest of her day was damn near heaven.

  He smiled and turned to her, about to break the ice, when the door to the bar opened again. He wouldn’t have even noticed except a hush fell across the crowd.

  The guy who came in was a beast. Well over six feet tall and broad shoulders that signaled that even beneath the beginnings of a beer gut there was a bit of muscle. Everyone looked between Mel and this new guy, and he had a bad feeling that this was the one who she’d been on the date with.

  Well, this just got more and more interesting. Gage leaned back and watched the woman as she stiffened, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t about to get the escape she wanted by coming here. Maybe it would be a happy reunion? Maybe her date had said something stupid and now he’d come to apologize and he’d have to see the woman of his dreams walk away with this dipshit tonight.

  But considering the way she tightened her lips and her hands balled into fists, she wasn’t in a reconciliatory mood.

  Gage took another sip right as the guy reached her.

  “Melissa, I tried calling you.”

  “How strange,” she said in a more demure voice than he expected, considering how annoyed she’d been just a minute ago. “My phone must be on silent.”

  She was trying not to piss him off. Maybe she was just nice and letting him down easy? Or maybe he was a dick. Either way, he kept to himself and tried to stay out of the stranger’s business.

  “Well, I’m here now. You’re not even going to turn around and look at me?”

  The woman bit her lip, and he knew for certain that she was trying to think of any way possible to avoid looking at him. But sure enough, she twisted around to face him after just a few seconds and her eyes went right to the ground. “I’m sorry for cutting the evening short, Hurley. Things just weren’t going right.”

  “So I said some stupid shit. I don’t get a second chance?”

  “Hurley, I think it would be best if we take this outside and—”

  “No. If you have something to say to me, why don’t you say it to my face?” The man’s deep voice raised and he could see the woman fold in on herself just the tiniest bit.

  Well, fuck this. He wasn’t going to keep out of the way anymore.

  Gage stood to his full height, about six foot two, which held nothing on this guy, but he looked Hurley right in the eye as if they were equally matched and didn’t show a hint of fear. “I think it’s time for you to go, buddy. I’m sure when her phone isn’t on silent anymore, she’ll send you a very nice text.”

  Hurley’s eyes narrowed. He stared Gage up and down, seeming to assess and disregard the threat. “Who the hell are you? You’re not from around here.”

  Sure, the locals wouldn’t know him, but it wasn’t as though he screamed tourist or anything.... “I’m the guy asking you to leave.”

  Hurley let out a bitter laugh before he pulled his arm back. It wasn’t a sucker punch. This was a slow winding up before he threw all of his considerable weight into the hit. But thanks to twenty or so black eyes courtesy of Slade, Gage was more than prepared. He normally would duck, but that would put poor Mel right in the way, so he decided to use the giant’s ungainly height against him and kicked out an ankle. As soon as the brute waved an arm for balance, he took the arm that was just swinging at his face, and after twisting around in one smooth motion, he slammed the wrist into the bar until a loud crack filled the now dead-silent room. It was only when Hurley fell to the ground that he realized everyone was staring at him questioningly. Well, so much for laying low.

  Liv just managed to pull on her boots as she stumbled out of the house to see Peter Slade starting down the street. As soon as she had her balance back, she went running after him and grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. It was so thick, she didn’t even feel him, but he obviously felt her because he immediately stopped and turned to her, which caused her to drop him and back up. Now that she’d caught up to him, she didn’t know what she could say to make him change his mind.

  “Umm,” she started with an especially unconvincing tone.

  He didn’t wait for her to continue and kept on down the street. The houses weren’t super close together, but they weren’t spread out either, which gave her precious little time to talk any sense to this stranger. “Can you please stop a second and talk to me?” she pleaded as they got closer and closer to her next-door neighbor.

  Surprisingly enough, he did stop, but that didn’t mean he was about to give her what she wanted. “Tell me where I can find my son.”

  Her mouth fell open as she tried to think of the easiest way to tell him no. Apparently she waited too long because he started up the driveway to Mrs. Greene’s house. Oh, for the love of.... “You can’t just go pounding on everyone’s door until you find him!” she bit out as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  “Why not?”

  “Because....” There were so many reasons, but they were all so common sense related that she couldn’t find any words to say. “Mrs. Greene is eighty years old. You can’t go knocking on her door in the middle of the night!”

  “It’s nine p.m. I think her heart will hold out.” Sure enough, as soon as he reached the front door, he pounded a few times, proving that he wasn’t joking around.

  And then she was stuck there, standing next to an obviously crazy man in just her short pajama shorts, matching tank top, and knee-high rain boots. The worst part about this was that she looked like the crazy one.

  Peter Slade looked as if he’d walked out of some sort of fashion ad. No, that wasn’t right. He was too hard around the e
dges to ever really be a model. The only reason his crazy was attractive was because of the edge that went along with it. There was an edge to everything about him. From the leather jacket that was torn and patched in ways that symbolized exactly how worn it had been and slightly too long hair, somewhere between short and ponytail length, as if he’d been putting off getting it cut for a few months, and the facial hair that showed it had been a few days since he’d shaved. But she had been around enough thugs and gangsters in her time to recognize the small patches where there was no hair growing anymore. Scars. Normal people didn’t get that many scars on their face.

  Though she supposed normal people weren’t presumed dead by their entire family either. Normal probably wasn’t a word that was used much around this guy.

  Liv held her breath and waited for the door to open so she could rush into any possible explanation for what she and this “stranger” were doing knocking on doors so late (while she was half dressed nonetheless!) but by some stroke of luck, no one answered the door.

  And she didn’t think the term “luck” loosely. Mrs. Greene rarely ever left her house unless there was an event at the church. If she was gone now, it was solely because for once tonight something was working in her favor. But when it became apparent that no one was going to open the door, Peter Slade turned all the intensity of his attention on her. “Is Josh in there?”

  She knew logically that Josh was this man’s son, but the entire idea was so abstract that hearing her Joshy’s name said by this intimidating force of nature just seemed wrong. No. He couldn’t do this. Not when they’d been doing just damn fine without him for all this time. “That’s it, Peter. I’m not going to let you drag me around half naked all the way through town to see a kid who doesn’t want to see you.”