by HELEN HARDT
Still, getting into his mind scared me. I didn’t want to get into his mind…and then find I understood him.
Find I was like him.
No. Just no.
My phone buzzed, a welcome respite from this line of thinking. Marjorie.
Chapter Forty-Six
Marjorie
I sat on a park bench next to Colin Morse. Neither of us felt comfortable talking on the phone or inside any building. So the park it was.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” I began. “Bryce and Joe found a cufflink at Tom’s cabin. A gold cufflink, with the initials CM on it.”
Colin lifted his brow.
“We think it’s yours. It has to be.”
“Except I never wore those cufflinks.”
“So you do have gold cufflinks?”
He nodded. “They were a high school graduation gift, but I’ve never worn them. They’re in my top dresser drawer in my parents’ home in Denver.”
“Are you sure? Have you seen them recently?”
“Well…no.”
“Then it could be yours, right?”
“I’d say no, except…”
Silence again. I was getting damned tired of this routine.
Then, “I’m sorry about your mom.”
Had I told him? Maybe. I couldn’t recall. Everything was a jumble in my mind since my mother had disappeared. I couldn’t think too much about her or I’d go crazy. I had to compartmentalize, or I’d give in.
I couldn’t go to the dark place, no matter how enticing it was. I owed my family more than that.
I simply nodded. “Thanks.”
Silence again.
I was done with this. I faced him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet my gaze. “Describe the cufflinks, Colin.”
“I haven’t looked at them in ages. Small gold ovals. Engraved with my initials in block lettering.”
Sounded like a match, though he’d also just described every other pair of cufflinks I’d ever seen, minus the initials.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” I asked.
He looked down. Classic tell. Yeah, there was more.
“Spit it out, then. This time, you’re going to level with me.”
“I can’t substantiate—”
I resisted the urge to shake him. “I don’t give a damn! What’s going on?”
“This is hard to say. I don’t want to believe it. Not about anyone, and especially not about my own father.”
I finally let go of his shoulders. “Tell me. Please. A lot of lives might depend on it.”
“Only mine,” he said.
“Tell me anyway.”
He finally met my gaze, his eyes clouded. “I’ve found evidence that leads me to believe…”
“What, Colin? What?”
He sighed, cleared his throat, fidgeted, and then sighed again. “That my father was behind my abduction. That he”—again with the throat clear—“sold me to Tom Simpson.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” Bryce said when I called him.
“Hey, I need to talk to you and Joe.”
“We’re outside the office building. I can put you on speaker if you want, but I’m not sure we should be—”
“Sorry. I know you don’t want to talk on any of our phones, but this can’t wait. This is big. Put me on speaker. Can anyone hear you where you are?”
“Only the steers. It’s Marj,” he said, presumably to Joe. “She wants to talk to both of us.”
“What is it, Sis?” Joe asked.
“I just talked to Colin.”
“Where are you?” Joe asked. “We should speak in person.”
“No,” I said adamantly. “At this point, I don’t care if anyone hears us. Colin did have a pair of gold cufflinks. They were a gift for high school graduation. He described them, and they sound like they could be a match to the ones we found at the cabin and outside the school playground. Only one problem.”
“Yeah?” Joe said.
“He never wore them. They were always in the top drawer of his dresser at his parents’ house.”
“Are they there now?”
“He doesn’t know. He’d have to go to Denver to find out.”
“Then he needs to go to Denver.”
“He refuses.”
“Why?”
“Because”—I paused a minute—“he thinks…”
“He thinks what, Marj? At this point, we don’t have to tiptoe around this. What does he think?”
“He’s been doing more research. Apparently he had a feeling, but he didn’t tell us that night at the hotel. Not until he had proof. And he didn’t want to find proof… In fact, he still can’t quite substantiate…”
“Sis, come on,” Joe said. “What are you getting at?”
I cleared my throat. “He didn’t want to tell me this, but I pushed. I pushed hard, and he finally buckled.”
“What? What did he tell you?” Bryce asked.
“This is so awful.”
“What, Marjorie?”
“He found some documents. They weren’t overly clear, but he’s pretty sure—”
Nausea crawled up my throat in an acidic trail. I didn’t want to tell Bryce. Didn’t want to tell him his father was even more of a monster.
“—that his father sold him. To your father.”
Stark silence on the other end of the line. Neither Bryce nor my brother spoke.
I cleared my throat. “I told him that probably wasn’t the case.”
Still silence.
“I mean, your father and the others never dealt in men, right? Just children”—I bit back the gagging in my throat—“and women. Right?”
Still nothing.
“You guys okay?”
But of course they weren’t. Especially Bryce. In one day, Bryce had found out his father had bought his son for him and a young stud plaything for himself. If what Colin said was true, it wasn’t hard to believe. If Tom Simpson could buy his own grandchild, he could certainly buy a grown man.
“Come on,” I said. “You’re scaring me now.”
Bryce, then, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Sis.”
“It’s okay. I’m pretty sick about it myself.” And if I felt sick, I could only imagine how Bryce was feeling.
“I wish we knew how all of this fits together,” Bryce said. “My dad. Colin. Ted Morse. Justin. The guy in the gray hoodie at the school.”
“Don’t forget the Spider,” Joe said. “He’s still missing.”
“And the rock and the baseball card and the cufflink. Ruby thinks the cufflink was a plant.”
“I trust her instincts,” Joe said.
“I do too,” I said. “But someone wants us to think Colin was where gray hoodie guy was.”
“You don’t think—” Bryce began.
“God, no! Colin is a shadow of his former self. He’s not going to go skulking around a school playground. What would he have against Dale and Donny or any kids? Also, Dale thought he recognized the guy. We know Colin wasn’t anywhere on that Caribbean compound.”
“Whoever the gray hoodie guy is, he somehow got his hands on Colin’s cufflink,” Joe said.
“Or one that’s identical to it,” Bryce added.
I walked away from the bench where Colin and I had sat, and—
Chapter Forty-Seven
Bryce
Silence on the other end of the line.
“Did you hear us?” I asked. “About the cufflink?”
Nothing. Maybe her battery had gone dead. If it had… Was someone listening in? Had someone…?
My heart hammered into itself, my chest heaving. “Marjorie? Sweetheart?”
“Sis,” Joe said, his tone panicked. “What’s going on?”
“Marj! Marj!” Franticness strangled me like a noose of fire.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Did she say where she was?” Joe asked.
“No. I just assumed she was home. But now I’m no
t sure.”
“Fuck,” Joe said, pulling out his phone. “Keep that line open. I’m calling the cops.”
“Marj!” I shouted again into the phone. “Marjorie! Talk to me! Damn it!”
“The cops are on the way,” Joe said. “Keep that line open, whatever you do.”
He didn’t have to make the demand. No way was I severing my only line to the woman I loved.
No fucking way.
“We’re coming, baby,” I said into the phone, hoping she could still hear me. “We’re coming for you. I love you, Marjorie. Be strong. I love you.”
Epilogue
Now I have what I need.
Continue reading the Steel Brothers Saga with Book Twelve
Coming January 28, 2020!
* * *
Enjoy Steel Brothers: Ravenous?
Please leave a review.
Message from Helen Hardt
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Ravenous. If you want to find out about my current backlist and future releases, please like my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/HelenHardt and join my mailing list: http://helenhardt.com/signup/. I often do giveaways. If you’re a fan and would like to join my street team to help spread the word about my books, you can do so here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/hardtandsoul/. I regularly do awesome giveaways for my street team members.
If you enjoyed the story, please take the time to leave a review on a site like Amazon or Goodreads. I welcome all feedback.
I wish you all the best!
Helen
Also By Helen Hardt
The Steel Brothers Saga:
Craving
Obsession
Possession
Melt
Burn
Surrender
Shattered
Twisted
Unraveled
Breathless
Ravenous
Insatiable (January 28, 2020)
* * *
Blood Bond Saga:
Unchained: Volume One
Unhinged: Volume Two
Undaunted: Volume Three
Unmasked: Volume Four
Undefeated: Volume Five
* * *
Misadventures:
Misadventures of a Good Wife (with Meredith Wild)
Misadventures with a Rock Star
* * *
The Temptation Saga:
Tempting Dusty
Teasing Annie
Taking Catie
Taming Angelina
Treasuring Amber
Trusting Sydney
Tantalizing Maria
* * *
The Sex and the Season Series:
Lily and the Duke
Rose in Bloom
Lady Alexandra’s Lover
Sophie’s Voice
* * *
Daughters of the Prairie:
The Outlaw’s Angel
Lessons of the Heart
Song of the Raven
* * *
The Cougar Chronicles:
The Cowboy and the Cougar
Calendar Boy
* * *
Collections:
Destination Desire
Her Two Lovers
* * *
Non-Fiction:
got style?
Acknowledgments
Thank you for reading Ravenous! Things are heating up, and you know I can’t resist a cliffhanger. All will be revealed in Insatiable!
Huge thanks to the following individuals whose effort and belief made this book shine: Jennifer Becker, Audrey Bobak, Haley Byrd, Yvonne Ellis, Martha Frantz, Jesse Kench, Robyn Lee, Jon Mac, Amber Maxwell, Dave McInerney, Michele Hamner Moore, Keli Jo Nida, Jenny Rarden, Chrissie Saunders, Scott Saunders, Celina Summers, Kurt Vachon, and Meredith Wild.
Thanks also to the women and men of Hardt and Soul. Your endless and unwavering support keeps me going.
To my family and friends, thank you for your encouragement.
And most importantly, thanks so much to my readers. None of this matters without all of you.
About Helen Hardt
#1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author Helen Hardt’s passion for the written word began with the books her mother read to her at bedtime. She wrote her first story at age six and hasn’t stopped since. In addition to being an award-winning author of romantic fiction, she’s a mother, an attorney, a black belt in Taekwondo, a grammar geek, an appreciator of fine red wine, and a lover of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. She writes from her home in Colorado, where she lives with her family. Helen loves to hear from readers.
* * *
For more information, please follow Helen Hardt at:
www.HelenHardt.com