Prisoned Series Box Set

by Marni Mann

  Suddenly, I found myself in the air.

  Thirty-Six

  Garin

  Present Day

  I lifted Kyle and pulled her onto my lap, holding her face still while she settled.

  This fucking girl.

  She had finally told me the truth, and all it had taken was a little bit of pushing. I didn’t have to hurt her. I didn’t even have to beg.

  But her confession came after years of lies—lies right after Paulie’s murder, lies when I’d cornered her in the alley, lies when I’d asked her in the bar, lies up until this very moment.

  It had taken everything that had gone down since Billy’s funeral—a hospital stay, a plane ride, dinner, a walk, and a fuck on the beach—but the truth had finally come.

  I’d never planned on giving her a second chance. Hell, I’d never intended for her to live this long. But the way she had looked at me, how she silently pleaded for me to touch her, how she just wanted me to wrap her up and protect her—it got to me. It burrowed right under that cold, bitter, angriness that I had felt toward her for so long.

  So, I’d made myself a deal. If she had the balls to lie to my face again, I’d kill her. But if she told me the truth, I’d spare her life.

  I hadn’t planned on forgiving her.

  I sure as fuck hadn’t planned on falling in love with her.

  But both had happened.

  Shit, the second I saw her all cut up and bloody, the feelings I’d had came straight back.

  The situation and what we had gone through wasn’t traditional. The deal Mario had helped me broker wasn’t either. Kyle should have been dead right now.

  She was the first to ever survive.

  The first to see the other side of a plan like the one Mario and I had set up.

  Saving her was against what everyone wanted. Mario gave me a fucking earful about it. I didn’t care what anyone thought, I didn’t care about the risks, and I didn’t care how much it was going to cost me. I owed big for this one, and I paid up.

  The minute I saw all of Kyle’s guilt, I knew it was worth it. And when I gave her my cock down at that beach and felt her unravel in pleasure, I definitely knew I’d made the right decision.

  All those wasted years because of Anthony, that sick motherfucker. The drugs had gotten to him. The money had gotten to him. And the greed had gotten to him. I’d seen it happen to plenty of guys in the past. No one had fallen as hard as Anthony Lang. And no one had taken out my friends like he had.

  I could have made the same deal for him that I had originally made for Kyle, but that wouldn’t have been as satisfying. Every time I visited Atlantic City and walked past the boardwalk, I wanted to know his bones had been ground into powder and sprinkled over the sand.

  And that was going to happen soon enough.

  I continued to hold Kyle’s face and stared into her eyes. I could tell she didn’t know. If she had, she wouldn’t have been looking at me the same way. But that was okay; we all had secrets. It had taken Kyle twelve years to voice hers.

  Maybe it would take me just as long to tell her mine.

  “If you would have told me back then, I would have protected you,” I said. “Nothing would have happened to you. I would have made sure of that.”

  I saw the guilt hit her, and she tried to look away. I wouldn’t let her. There was no more looking away. It was just us now. So, I tipped her chin up and pointed her lips toward mine.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll be saying that for the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t want you to. It’s over. Behind us. We don’t have to talk about it again.”

  “But what about us? You said you have feelings. What exactly does that mean?”

  Her voice was so small I could feel her nerves. That was just the opposite from the way she had acted on the beach, almost reaching through my jeans to grab my cock.

  “I have something I need to take care of first.”

  “Of course. I should have figured that,” she said. “You live in Vegas, and I’m here and—”

  “No, that’s not what I meant, Kyle.” I leaned my head down, so I could taste her mouth. “I was talking about your brother.”

  “Oh…right.”

  “Anthony is fucking dead.”

  She opened her mouth and shut it real quick.

  “You had to know that when you came out with the truth. You don’t get to kill people I care about and get away with it.”

  “I know.”

  “Did he ever hurt you?”

  “No.”

  I held her face tighter. “Did he ever hurt you, Kyle?”

  “No. I would tell you. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t tell you at this point.”

  I could feel that she was telling me the truth. Her pulse was steady; she held eye contact. I didn’t think I’d have a problem with her lying to me again.

  “When are you leaving?” she asked.

  After dropping us off in Florida, my pilot had immediately flown back to Vegas. He wasn’t out of hours. I just needed a reason to spend more time with her and get the truth out of her. The hospital wasn’t the right place for that. She was there to heal.

  Florida was the right place, and it had worked.

  “Do you want me here for a few more days?” I asked.

  “I want that so badly.”

  So did I. I wanted to spend those days with my face between her legs. What had happened on the beach was too quick; it didn’t give me a chance to taste her. But, now, I would have the time.

  And why the fuck should I wait another second?

  “Do you know what I want?” I asked.

  “What?”

  I lifted her off my lap and set her on the bed, wedging myself between her thighs. Her shorts were in my way, so I ripped them off her legs and moved my mouth to her cunt.

  “Garin,” she moaned, grabbing my hair and pulling it.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Oh God, no.”

  I swiped my tongue over her clit. She was so turned on that it was already a little swollen. And the taste of it was so goddamn good. I gave her more, flicking the tip of my tongue from side to side. She grabbed the blanket with both hands and lifted it off the bed while her legs spread, and her hips bucked.

  This was the sexiest I’d ever seen her.

  I stuck a finger into her pussy and felt it clench around my knuckle. “Do you want more, baby?”

  “Yes,” she groaned.

  I gave her a second finger and one in her ass. I liked being back in there again. That tight hole was just begging for my cock. Begging to be spread and fucked so hard.

  She’d get it.

  She’d get every inch of it…because I knew she could handle it.

  In my head, I laughed at the thought.

  But in front of me, I watched her arch her back and rock her pussy against my mouth.

  I could feel how close she was, and I wanted to give her the orgasm she deserved. There was no reason to punish her and not let her get off, especially when she had been such a good girl today.

  So, I licked her harder. I finger-fucked her faster.

  And I felt her come against my mouth.

  When she finally stopped moving, I slowly swiped my tongue across her again. I wanted to make sure I got everything that seeped out of her before I swallowed it down.

  “Wow.” She looked at me from between her legs. “When I was in the coma, I had dreamed of you doing that. But…just…wow.”

  Of course she had.

  I didn’t ask her which one was better.

  I knew.

  Thirty-Seven

  Kyle

  “Hey, Kyle?” One of my employees opened my office door and poked her head through the crack. “The Snyders are thinking they want to go black and white for the wedding colors—”

  “Silver font,” I said, not bothering to look toward the door to see who was asking or even letting her finish because I already knew the question. It was always
the same question. Over and over. “Put their names in script, and keep the rest of the invitation in serif. Make sure they order inner and outer envelopes, and if they want the addresses written out in calligraphy, there’s an upcharge for that.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Before she closed my door, she added, “It’s good to have you back.”

  I waved and continued to stare at my inbox.

  Work was the last place I wanted to be. Being at the shop meant Garin was gone, and I was having a hard time accepting that. We’d spent over a week together, and from the moment I confessed to the minute I dropped him off at the airport this morning, we had acted like a couple. He had held my hand as we walked around town. He’d cupped my face when he kissed me. He had asked my opinion when he was emailed questions about the hotel and casino, and he listened to the feedback I gave him. And he made love to me. Constantly.

  Now, I didn’t know when I’d see him again.

  I ached at the thought.

  I needed him.

  I needed more time with him.

  And the last thing I needed was work. I cringed at the sight of the emails that were waiting to be answered, at the problems that needed my solving. My mom had run things while I was gone. She told me she’d heard from Garin just after the accident, and he’d kept her updated on my progress, but she needed to be at the shop to make sure the money was filtered correctly. I wasn’t surprised when she had acted more concerned about Anthony’s next trip to Florida than on my recovery. She didn’t care.

  Anthony didn’t care.

  And I didn’t care about this place anymore.

  The clock on my computer showed it was just after four. I’d been in the office since nine that morning, and I hadn’t done a thing. I hadn’t returned a single email, I hadn’t ordered any of the products that were needed for inventory, and I hadn’t met with any of the clients who had come in. All I had done was answer questions when my employees had them and stared at my computer.

  I grabbed my bag, locked my office, and walked out the back door, so I wouldn’t see anyone out front. I drove straight home. When I pulled into my driveway, my phone rang. Garin’s name and number showed on the screen. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, but I knew he was in Atlantic City. He’d told me his destination just before he had gotten out of my car and stepped onto the plane.

  And, because he was in Jersey, I knew something was about to go down.

  I shifted into park and continued to hold the steering wheel. “Hi.”

  “Hey, you.”

  I hated that he was so far away. I hated that he wasn’t whispering those two words in my ear. And I hated that the tone of his voice told me something was wrong.

  “I didn’t think it was right to text you this. I thought it would be better to tell you over the phone.”

  He took a breath, and I knew. I felt it in my whole body as it started to shake. My throat tightened. My heart pounded.

  “It’s done,” he said.

  My eyes closed, and I rested my forehead on my hand, pushing it into the steering wheel. “Anthony’s…gone?”

  “Yes.”

  I knew this was coming. I knew that was the reason Garin had gone to Atlantic City. When he had told me that Anthony was going to fucking die, I knew he wasn’t kidding.

  So, why was I shocked to hear it?

  And why did it hurt?

  I stared at my lap, clenching and unclenching my fingers against my forehead. My joints burned. My chest ached. I didn’t know why; I couldn’t explain it. I wanted it to stop, but it just wouldn’t.

  “Was it quick?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “No, it wasn’t quick…and it wasn’t painless.”

  I winced from his honesty and tried not to let my mind wander. Prior to the dream, I hadn’t known much about torture. Even though it wasn’t real, I felt like it gave me an education on some of the possibilities. Now, I knew what it felt like to have a knife pointed at my throat, to be told I was going to die, to feel a level of pain I had never experienced before. The true meaning of fear, of constant worry, of hurt—I understood all of it now. But I was sure that whatever had been inflicted on Anthony was far worse than what Breath had done to me.

  And I had a feeling it had started before Garin had arrived. I hadn’t heard from Anthony in two days. That was unlike my brother. He usually made some type of contact every day. I was sure that meant the bosses had captured Anthony, and Garin had finished him.

  I wouldn’t ask. I didn’t want to know.

  And I didn’t want to know what they had done to him.

  Or where they were going to bury him.

  Now that I had Garin back in my life and I truly knew what I had lost, what had been taken from me, I blamed Anthony for all of it. I wouldn’t miss my brother. And I didn’t want to ever visit his grave.

  But the thought of more death, more torture, still hurt.

  “I’m glad you told me,” I said, “and I didn’t find out some other way.”

  I heard talking in the background. Then, there was movement, the rushing of cars, horns honking.

  “They need me, Kyle. I’m going to call you back in a little while.”

  “Okay.”

  He said good-bye, and we both hung up.

  I didn’t put the phone down. I lifted my forehead off my hand and stared at the dark screen.

  Anthony was gone.

  Dead.

  I wasn’t sure what to say, what to think, how to even process it all. But I knew there was something I had to do, something I wasn’t looking forward to.

  I swiped my finger across the screen and hit Mom in my contacts.

  “Hi,” I said when she answered. “We need to talk. Can I come over?”

  “I just sat down to watch my shows. Johnny’s here. I don’t feel like having company.”

  I didn’t know who Johnny was. We didn’t talk about her friends or the men she dated, and I never met any of them. But his company was clearly more important than mine.

  “It’s urgent, Mom.” I added the last word for emphasis because, when I spoke to her, I usually called her by her first name.

  “Turn it down, will ya? And pause it, so I don’t miss nothing,” she said to Johnny.

  I heard the TV quiet in the background.

  “What do you wanna tell me, Kyle? Make it quick.”

  “It’s really something I need to tell you in person.”

  “Just spit it out already.”

  If she didn’t want me to come over, I couldn’t force her. But I knew what this was going to do to her. She struggled with sobriety. She had relapsed more than once. Losing her son—her enabler, her source of income—was going to destroy her.

  “Anthony’s dead.” Several seconds of silence passed. “Mom, did you hear what I said? Anthony’s dead. He’s gone. He’s—”

  “I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about something like this.”

  “Then, why haven’t I heard this from anyone else? Why didn’t one of the guys call me? Or one of his girls? Why hasn’t anyone from The Heart picked up the phone and told me my baby’s dead?”

  “Maybe they don’t know yet.” It was the only thing I could think of without getting into details, ones I would never share with her. “I’m telling you the truth. I just heard. He’s gone, Mom.”

  “No. No. No!” she screamed, the emotion finally coming through in her voice.

  Had I not ratted him out, Anthony would have still been alive. But I couldn’t take this guilt on, too. I couldn’t let this eat at me. Anthony had murdered two of my friends. Had I not told Garin, he probably would have found out anyway. And, if I hadn’t put a stop to it, my brother could have killed more innocent people.

  “My baby can’t be dead,” she wailed. “My baby. My baby.”

  I slowly looked up, staring past the steering wheel at the house th
at was surrounded by palms and thick bushes. The beige stucco front. The two steps I had climbed countless times.

  The house that had never once felt like it was mine.

  I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t know what was going to happen.

  But I knew I couldn’t live here anymore.

  Thirty-Eight

  Garin

  Two Hours Ago

  “You piece of shit,” I spewed, spitting the words in Anthony’s face.

  The boys had done a hell of a job torturing the ever-loving fuck out of him. Every toe but the big ones had been severed and tossed on the ground. He’d been forced to eat his own earlobes. Then, all his teeth were pulled out. The guys didn’t even have to tape his lips shut; Anthony had nothing to bite them with.

  “Fuck you,” he gummed back at me.

  “Fuck me?” I laughed. “Yeah, fuck me that I didn’t figure this out earlier, and I had to wait so long to kill you.”

  As I rolled up my sleeves, the blood on my knuckles caught my attention. I fucking hated that a piece of him was on me. My hands had been inside his sister this morning. If I hadn’t had his blood all over me, I bet my fingers would have still smelled like her.

  The only good part about all this was that it had brought Kyle back to me.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked.

  His eyelids were swollen, but he still looked at me. There was no life in his eyes. Just a dead stare, as if I’d already killed him. “Fuck you, Garin.”

  I pulled so hard on a chunk of his hair that I felt his scalp tear. “Give me an answer. You’re going to die in this room anyway, so there’s no reason to keep it a secret.”

  He didn’t scream like most of the men who had been brought in here over the years. He didn’t try to fight his way out of the ropes that bound his limbs to the chair. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even shit himself, which I’d seen happen before. He stayed still and looked at me with those dead eyes.

  “I worked so fucking hard,” he finally said.