Wrong Kind of Paradise

by Suzie Grant

  you set things in motion, you cannot renege on your word.” The lieutenant chuckled. “Funny how quick we

  learn life’s little lessons.”

  “You bastard! He was just a boy!” Angel cried and lunged at Charles. The soldier behind her

  grabbed her by the collar of her shirt like he would a dog and chuckled as she struggled, arms flailing.

  “I’m sure you were wondering if your plan had worked to free Logan. Well, I thought I’d be

  generous today and provide you with the answer.”

  Charles laughed at the open-jawed expression on her face. “Oh, don’t cry, my dear. Would you like

  to see your father now?”

  Angel shook with rage. Her hands fisted, and her jaw clenched until her teeth ached. But then her

  father stumbled through the door and everything else faded away. His tall frame barely fit through the

  opening, and he had to duck his great head. His gaze met hers as tears scalded a path down her cheeks.

  His bruised and battered face softened when he saw her, and he sent her a tiny smile. Angel choked

  back a sob. She wanted to run into his arms. She wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be,

  when she’d been safe. On her island. Once upon a time...

  A hundred scenarios played out in her mind and none of them ended with a happily ever after. Blac

  had been right. She’d been searching for a fairy tale where none existed. And one way or another she was

  going to come out of this with a broken heart.

  Her gaze shifted from her father to Bruno before settling on Blac. She would never be able to get

  them all free, and she’d been stupid and naive to ever believe otherwise.

  And suddenly, a life without Blac seemed impossible. Pain rose in the back of her throat and

  threatened to spill from her mouth in a wail. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, to fall from her chin and

  she knew...God had not answered her prayers this morning.

  Because this was where she must choose whose life meant the most to her.

  Twenty-one

  She closed her eyes. But darkness hid nothing.

  Two streams of tears coursed down her cheeks and the soft chuckle by her ear reminded her she

  wasn’t alone. Angel opened her eyes and stared into the cold depths of Charles’s soulless gaze. The

  leering grin taunted her.

  “You are upset.”It wasn’t a question. His dark eyes seemed depthless, hollow as he stared at her. “I

  would offer some form of comfort, but I’m enjoying this entirely too much.”

  Even the daylight mocked her misery. It spilled through the windows and teased the shadows into

  fading with its light. The slightest breeze trickled in through the opened windows but offered no relief

  from the heat. The lieutenant circled her and his attention strayed every once in a while to her father. “I’ve

  waited years for this. Imagined this. And I’ve determined I’m going to go slow and enjoy every second.”

  “Why?” she whispered and her chin trembled under the force of her emotions. “Why are you doing

  this?”

  Those black eyes pinned her to the spot. “You still haven’t pieced together the puzzle yet?” He

  crossed his fingers behind his back. “I was very young when my father remarried. I remember how

  beautiful Elizabeth was, small, delicate, and very serene. She had hair as bright as the full moon and

  slender hands.”

  Something triggered a memory of her mother’s hands ,and Angel stilled. Quivers racked her body

  and she struggled to appear brave. But her false bravado almost faltered as he leaned close to her and

  smiled. He enjoyed her fear. Even with this knowledge, she could not cease the tremors.

  Her father’s words returned to her. Bravery is not the lack of fear but standing your ground when

  you are afraid.

  She planted her feet and met Charles’s gaze. I will not let fear win.

  “Your mother was the only mother I ever had. I was nine when your father kidnapped her. I swore

  even then I would make him pay.” Charles turned to Logan to growl out the last of that sentence. “But the

  day she chose you...over me...well, my revenge turned into something deeper.”

  Hatred. Of me.

  A shiver raced along her spine, and apprehension settled deep within her belly. She almost shrank

  away from him but tamped down the urge.

  “’Tis a pity it’s almost over. I have enjoyed this, to tell the truth. I was quite surprised when you

  stole Blac’s ship and declared war with me. Surprised and...amused.”

  Charles snapped his heels together and circled her once more before he moved closer to her father.

  He seemed to study her father intently and without any words. But not too close she noted. He feared her

  father.

  Intrigued, she watched them closely.

  Logan stood almost an entire head and shoulders over the lieutenant. Charles dusted off the sleeve

  of his coat and tapped his cane on the floor three times. “Although, your father gave me quite the challenge

  himself, so you will understand why I have lost all patience.”

  The lieutenant whipped around and pointed to Blac. “Blac, my friend. You must understand your

  usefulness has run out. Understand, dear man, this is business...well mostly business. I will confess to a

  tad bit of pleasure at seeing you die. Your arrogance knows no bounds, and I honestly cannot wait to

  watch you draw your last breath, knowing you could not outmaneuver me...old man.”

  Blac strained against the soldiers holding him, and it took three of them to subdue him, dragging him

  to his knees. Even then, he lunged forward until the man behind him cracked him in the back of the head

  with the hilt of his sword.

  Blac collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap. Angel heard the scream but didn’t realize it had

  been her own until the hand clamped over her mouth. The soldier behind her held tight, smashing her lips

  against her teeth so hard she tasted the bitter bite of blood.

  Her father didn’t move. Instead he watched Charles. With an almost indiscernible shake of his head,

  he glanced at her, telling her to wait.

  But for what?

  “Well, that took the fun out of it. I had looked forward to seeing his eyes when I killed him.”

  Charles scolded the soldier with a lift of his cane. “Ahh well, at least I have the other two to play with.”

  “Do not be so hasty, my son. Barclay can still be of some use to us yet.”A well-dressed gentleman

  with a short close-cropped white wig stepped into the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Indeed, we could kill them all and lay the blame at Barclay’s feet. After all, this is what happens during

  a jealous rampage, and then the crown would never even have to know of our involvement a’tall.”

  The man was as tall as her father. Perhaps not as large or as muscular, but he had a familiarity to

  him she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  The extra twenty pounds, all of which hung over his waistband, told a life of luxury and laziness.

  But the strong angle of his chin with the slightest cleft in its center seemed familiar. Had she seen this man

  somewhere before?

  Cold, dark eyes strayed from her to her father. “Logan.”

  She swung her gaze to her father. Her father gave a tight smile and his dark gaze hardened. “Philip. I

  was wondering when you would show your face.”

  “You cannot imagine how long I have waited for this,” Phillip said as he strolled casually toward

  Logan.

  Angel t
ensed, the escalating tension crackled in the air. The shuffle of feet scraping across the gritty

  floor sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.

  “Probably for as long as I have,” Logan replied with a leer. “After all, we both knew years ago it

  would end this way.”

  “Indeed. I couldn’t have written a better ending to the story if I’d written it myself,” Phillip replied

  with a nod.

  “Oh, but you did,” Logan reminded him. “Don’t think I have forgotten why we find ourselves here in

  the first place, Viscount Worthington.”

  A strange look passed between the two men, and Angel sensed that she’d missed something

  significant. How did her father know this man?

  Phillip chuckled and grabbed the lieutenant’s cane from him to swing it back and forth. “You

  should’ve known I wouldn’t sit back and accept your betrayal without retaliation of my own.”

  “You should review your history, considering I learned betrayal from the best.”

  “Indeed.”The viscount swung the cane in a loop. “Shrewdness runs in the family.” He turned toward

  Angel and stared at her for several minutes. The silence stretched between them. With a sweep of his arm

  he indicated himself and her father. “This is the end result when two men love the same woman.”

  Her brow furrowed. What was going on? Some distant memory flitted through the dark recesses of

  her mind. Her mother’s face flashed and she waited for some sort of explanation.

  “If I recall, it wasn’t the woman you loved. It was the title and money you were after, the woman

  was just an extra added bonus...brother.”

  ~*~

  Logan watched. Waited.

  It’d been over twenty years since he’d seen Phillip’s face. The years hadn’t been as kind to him.

  Stress had etched deep lines in his face — the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth. Logan

  assumed he would find a balding head under that horrible white wig.

  He should’ve killed Phillip years ago when he’d had the chance. But he’d let Elizabeth talk him out

  of it. The memory of her gentle blue eyes still haunted him. And he couldn’t help but feel as if he’d failed

  the woman he’d loved so dearly. For he’d promised her he’d always protect their daughter.

  And now their daughter was in the hands of a madman.

  His very own brother.

  But the thought of killing his own flesh and blood made him ill. Even now. Memories of their

  childhood remained fresh in his mind, and he’d loved his brother. But Phillip threatened the one thing in

  his life that Logan refused to bargain for. Angel had become his life, and he would not lose her to his

  brother’s insanity.

  He had to keep his brother’s attention on him and away from Angel. At all cost.

  “She looks so much like Elizabeth,” Phillip said, one of his hands reached out to clasp a single

  flaxen lock on her shoulder. Angel jerked in response. “I must admit I have missed my wife dreadfully all

  these years.”

  “Well, you can rest assured you never crossed her mind again,” Logan taunted, his hands curling

  into tight fists. He didn’t want the bastard touching his daughter, and bitterness churned in his gut. “You

  betrayed me. You set me up. You made sure the authorities found that shipment of guns on my property.

  Tell me why.”

  Phillip chuckled. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You sent the anonymous missive and had me arrested. After all, with me out of the way, you would

  inherit the title, the lands, everything.”

  “You can’t prove it.”

  Logan swallowed down the rage. “And then you did the most horrific thing any man could ever do.

  Once I ran away, you forced yourself on Elizabeth so that she was obligated to marry you, despite the fact

  that she still loved me. Tell me brother...how does it feel to know you will always come in second place?

  To know that you could never please her as I did?”

  Phillip bellowed his fury and raised his cane over his head. Logan lifted his bound hands, the

  rattling chains stopped the angry descent of the staff. Logan seized the end of the cane in one hand and

  jerked Phillip forward.

  But a sword slid out of the cane’s encasing and they both stumbled back. Phillip stared at the blade,

  peering closely to the tiny details embedded within the shiny steel. His dark eyes moved beyond the blade

  to Logan, who tossed aside the useless end of the cane.

  “Hmm, what an ingenious contraption, son,” he murmured.

  The lieutenant smiled and crossed his hands behind his back. “I knew you would appreciate it,

  Father.”

  “Indeed, my opinion of your intellect just spiked a few degrees higher. Apparently, you’re not the

  imbecile I’ve longed believed.”

  Charles frowned but didn’t say another word.

  Phillip wielded the weapon in a figure eight. The swish of air as the blade cut through it echoed in

  the silence. Tension swelled within the room.

  A quick thrust in Logan’s direction had him dodging to the right. Hindered by chains, his movements

  were clumsy, slow. But that was how Phillip fought. Fair wasn’t a word in his vocabulary. It hadn’t been

  since they were boys.

  Phillip lunged again. The scrape of metal screeched into the silence as Logan used the chain to

  block the blow. Another attack, and Logan wrapped the chains around the blade, yanking it from the

  viscount’s grasp. It clattered to the ground several feet away.

  Phillip stumbled and righted himself. One fist shot out and connected with Logan’s jaw. He shook

  his head to clear the dizziness and straightened. “You’ll need to do better than that, brother.”

  Phillip raised his hand to strike again, but Logan tackled him. The two fell to the ground in a tangle

  of limbs. Dust billowed and swirled under their struggling forms as they each tried to garner the upper

  hand.

  Rage consumed him. Years of deception assailed him with images and a red haze fell over his

  vision. His only sight was of the past. Logan wrapped both hands around Phillips neck and squeezed until

  his eyes bulged under the pressure. Phillip choked, grasping at the hands cutting off air.

  The sight of the musket barrel entering his vision and aimed at his temple gave him pause. Logan

  didn’t release Phillip but he eased up on the pressure enough that Phillip could breathe. He sat back just a

  little and glared up at the younger man.

  The lieutenant leered. “As much as I am enjoying this little piece of drama, I must insist you release

  my father. I’m not quite ready to kill you...yet.”

  Phillip coughed and caught his breath. Crawling to his knees, he shoved Logan off of him. “If he

  makes another move, kill his daughter,” he ordered.

  “A coward as usual,” Logan said. “You always did hide behind someone else, Phillip. You never

  could face me man to man.” Logan stepped away from Phillip, tamping down the rage. Ever since he

  could remember, his brother had been a coward.

  “I like to call it wisdom. After all, why do all the filthy work when a man can just get others to do it

  for you,” Phillip protested and staggered to his feet. “Seems stupid to waste so much energy on

  inconsequential activities. When you’re as rich as I am, you don’t need friends. That, my dear brother, is

  the benefit of money.”

  “Apparently, you don’t need honor
either.”

  Phillip slowly tilted his head to the right and straightened his spine. “Honor is for the weak-minded.

  And you mistake me for a man who cares, Logan.” He straightened his overcoat and brushed the dust from

  the material. “But I digress,” he murmured.

  “You’d have to have a heart to care.”

  “And we’ve already established that I don’t so let’s move on. Shall we?” Phillip shuffled across

  the floor to Angel and circled her. “She is stunning, dear brother. Exquisite. I can’t decide if I wish to go

  on with the original plan to kill her while you watch or sell her into slavery. She would make a hell of a

  courtesan, my friend.”

  Logan lurched forward with a roar as several hands shot out and clamped down on his arms to stay

  him. Logan dragged the men with him several steps before they tackled him to the floor. “You touch one

  hair on her head, Phillip, and I’ll gut you like the pig you are.”

  Phillip chuckled but took a step back. “This will be more fun than I imagined.” He paused before

  Angel and lost his smile. “You are very much like your mother, dear girl. I must say, seeing you has re-

  opened an old wound on my heart.”

  “I thought you didn’t have one,” Angel reminded him.

  Phillip smirked. “She’s astute as well. After your mother’s betrayal, I knew there was no way I

  could allow her and Logan to live happily. And then I learned there had been a child of the union. What a

  delightful discovery. What better form of revenge than cutting out the heart of my adversary? And you my

  dear, will provide me with the means to do that.”

  Phillip reached out to grasp her chin and raise her face to him, but she yanked away from him. He

  gave a tight smile in return. “And to think you were delivered into my waiting arms by your own lover.”

  ~*~

  There were so many feet stirring up the stale dust inside the tiny room, she coughed. The heat of so

  many packed bodies made the temperature in the already scorching room rise.

  Perspiration trickled down the side of her cheek to drop off her jaw. Drip, drip, drip, water

  dribbled into a puddle somewhere and caused her mouth to dry. Nothing had turned out as she had

  imagined. Nothing had gone right, from the moment they had come up with this crazy plan. Luck had