Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers #3)

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Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers #3) Page 31

by K. L. Kreig


  “Yeah. ‘Just friends’ my ass.”

  “I know, right? They seem happy, though.”

  She’s right. They do. There’s a melancholy about my mom that’s vanished. Regardless of what’s really going on between her and Bob Monroe, I’m happy for her. She deserves to have someone care for her outside of her children, even if it is just a really good friend. “That they do.”

  “I’m going to dance with you all night long,” I say a few moments later. I missed out on my chance to sway with her in my arms at Gray’s wedding. I won’t make that mistake again.

  “I thought you didn’t dance,” she quips back.

  “Fireball, I dance very fucking well when it suits my purpose.” She stops walking and I swing her around in my arms.

  “What if I want you to make love to me all night instead?”

  I palm her head, kissing her long and deep, my cock jumping up and down at that idea. “I think that can be arranged.”

  “Good,” she whispers saucily before tugging me along once again.

  As we make our way back to the resort, Addy babbles the whole time while I just listen, absorbing her enthusiasm. I fully realize that I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet right now. I’m positive there is no one happier at this very minute than I am.

  I now have everything I never dreamed I would.

  A woman who loves me unconditionally.

  A soul that’s finally at rest.

  And a family I will never leave or doubt again.

  I fucking have it all.

  Now everything in my world is perfect.

  ~ THE END ~

  My musical inspiration for writing Luke’s Absolution:

  “Not Broken Anymore” by Blue October

  “Black Widow” by Iggy Azalea

  “Send the Pain Below” by Chevelle

  “Goodbye Agony” by Black Veil Brides

  “Wrong Side of Heaven” by Five Finger Death Punch

  “Not Coming Home” by Arson City

  “Break Me Down” by Red

  “Angel” by Theory of a Deadman

  “Bleed Out” by Blue October

  “Drown” by Bring Me The Horizon

  “Whatever It Takes” by Lifehouse

  “My Demons” by Starset

  “Fight Inside” by Red

  “I’ll Follow You” by Shinedown

  “Cold” by Crossfade

  “Falling In” by Lifehouse

  “The Ever” by Red

  “Secrets” by One Republic

  “Face Everything and Rise” by Papa Roach

  “Of These Chains” by Red

  Acknowledgments

  Babbles…

  I absolutely LOVED writing this book and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did getting these two souls on paper. Luke and Addy have probably been my favorite and easiest couple to write so far. Each word just flowed effortlessly and I could have made this book so much longer than I did!

  I know Luke has been a fan favorite, and his story was supposed to be the last and the hardest, but that honor goes to Connelly, and I can’t wait for you to really get to know him. Connelly’s complex and tortured and he’ll have to dig deep for his happily ever after. His and Nora's story is gut-wrenching to read (and to write), which is why he had to wait until last.

  I love these brothers, I love this series, and no matter how many books I write, these characters will always hold a special place in my heart.

  Now on to my thanks and gratitude. Friends, family, bloggers, authors, betas, editors, formatters, proofreaders, pimpers, and most importantly MY READERS: if you had a hand in this, if you supported me in any way, shape, or form, you know who you are and you know I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am nothing but sincerely, eternally grateful for your belief in me.

  Finally, after forty some years, I have found my true passion in life. I may never be a best seller, I may never win writing awards, I may never be able to make a true living at doing what I love, but I don’t even care. Every message and each email I get from someone who wanted to personally reach out to me and praise me for how my work touched them in some way is truly a surreal feeling and that’s why I do this. Because you all encourage me. For that, I thank you.

  Even though I know they will never read this, I can’t thank my favorite band, Red, enough for their musical inspiration to write this entire Colloway Brothers series. I always find inspiration in music regardless of my writing, but it’s really incredible that each of their songs spoke to me exactly as if these characters did. If you haven’t heard of them, you should check them out or at least listen to one or two of the songs I’ve written this book to. “The Ever” is one of my favorites and describes how Luke feels to a “T”.

  Thanks for taking this journey with me, for buying my book, and for supporting an author you love. Whether that’s me or not, your support of your favorite authors cannot be overstated.

  If you like this book, please tell your friends, your neighbors, shout it from the rooftops. Hell, tell people you don’t even like! The best thing you can do to support an author you love is word of mouth and LEAVE A REVIEW on Goodreads, Amazon, or wherever. Even one or two sentences or simply rating the book is helpful for other readers. Reviews are critical to getting a book exposure.

  Other works by K. L. Kreig:

  The Regent Vampire Lords series:

  Surrendering

  Belonging

  Reawakening

  Evading (releasing April 2016)

  The Colloway Brothers series:

  Forsaking Gray

  Undeniably Asher

  Luke’s Absolution

  Destination Connelly (releasing summer 2016)

  Looking for a new author? Have I got two fantastic ones for you! Dark romance your thing? Turn the page for an excerpt of With Visions Of Red:Broken Bonds by Bestselling Author Trisha Wolfe. Love a good sports romance? USA Today Bestselling Author Eve Jagger will wow you in A Night With Knox.

  Then keep reading…you’ll also find a sneak peek of Destination Connelly, the final book in the Colloway Brothers series, as well as excerpts from Forsaking Gray and Undeniably Asher. Release date for Destination Connelly scheduled for June 2016.

  With Visions of Red ~ Trisha Wolfe

  PROLOGUE

  Ten Years Ago

  The stench of rotting meat permeates the cool, dank air of the basement. A rotating air purifier in the corner does nothing for the smell, only blasts my sweat-slicked skin with a chilly, stale breeze, causing gooseflesh to rise along my exposed skin.

  My pink tank top clings to my body, saturated with old and new sweat, dirt and filth. My legs remain bare—my boy-shorts the only guard against the elements…and him.

  I nudge the plate of uneaten food aside with my knee, my shackles rattling from above. The chains tighten, and I wince at the sharp, pinching pain. A whimper escapes my mouth.

  My arms stopped aching hours ago—my muscles numb. If I stand, the feeling will come alive with unbearable agony. My calves still burn from the stretching. I no longer feel my toes, either. I wriggle them, trying to force circulation into my feet and legs, the cold cement floor fighting back against my attempt.

  Three days. Five. A week? With no windows, no light from outside, there’s no way to be sure. Time doesn’t pass down here; it stalled and the world quit spinning the moment he touched me. Invaded me. And I stopped existing.

  I’ve tried to measure my time trapped in this dungeon by his comings and goings—but they’re too sporadic. Sometimes I’m left alone for so long, I fear he’s forgotten about me. Then I’m sickened by the realization that I actually fear he won’t return.

  Twisted.

  At first, I screamed. I screamed for hours until my throat burned and my voice gave. He never covered my mouth. So the only thing I know for sure is that I’m somewhere far enough away where he doesn’t worry about me being heard. No. He likes my screams. That’s the first thing I learned. Then I learned
to hold them in. Not to encourage him.

  My body ices over with dread as my gaze swings to the cross.

  I made the mistake of demanding to know what it was used for…having spent hours staring at it, fearing it…and then he showed me.

  Not today. Please, not today. A hot tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe the side of my face against my arm. He can’t see me broken. Because when he knows I’m broken—when he’s mastered me—I’ll be of no more use.

  I pull at my memories, try to find a sanctuary.

  So stupid. So, so stupid. My lips tremble as I recount my actions that brought me here. That dumb fight with Brandon, the one where I slammed his car door and stormed off—I can hardly remember why I was so angry.

  He was texting some other girl. That was it. Then it blew up from there. Accusations and claims that I’m crazy. Girls are always the crazy ones. We never actually see what’s right before our eyes.

  Furious, I walked off on my own, desperate to be away from him and empowered by the right to be a strong, independent woman who didn’t need her cheating boyfriend to drive her home. Damn if I wouldn’t walk myself right there. Then—

  The night swallowed me.

  And I’ve been engulfed, surrounded by its darkness ever since. I now know what evil lurks where even the light is afraid to shine.

  A thump from above hitches my breathing.

  Oh, God. I want the fear back. I wish my limbs would quake—that my body would shrivel up and my mind would space. I’ve moved past that fight or flight adrenaline rush, though. I’ve moved on to acceptance. And I want his touch to kill me.

  I just want this to end.

  As his footsteps travel down the steps, echoing against the cement walls, I decide I’m broken. Just let him see me break. That’s all he wants, then the torment will end.

  And when I meet his intense gray eyes—no mask to protect his features—I know. This is my end. He’s no longer concerned about my escape, or someone finding me. I’ll never be able to utter his likeness to a soul.

  His tall, muscular form moves to the wall behind me and he cranks a lever. My chains jerk taut, and I’m forced to my feet. My arms and body stretch thin, fire-hot needles attacking my arms and calves, my toes just scraping the floor. I shut my eyes against the pain and bite down on my lip to stifle the scream slithering up my throat.

  He hates this. He’ll punish me. He wants to see my fear through the windows of my soul. Smell my sweaty skin. Taste my terror. If I anger him enough, maybe he’ll make it quick.

  The feel of his calloused fingers gliding along my skin knots my stomach. “You’re being a bad girl again, I see.” They trail down, down my arms. Down my ribs, and farther to my waist. The chains jangle at my uncontrollable tremble. “My dirty girl.” His guttural voice surrounds me, blanketing my body with malicious intent, and my vision tunnels until I detach, removed far away from myself.

  But he doesn’t allow me to stay there. He always brings me back.

  The second his fingers dip beneath the front of my underwear, I seize with awareness. I’m present. I feel. Shocked into alertness, I fight back. Writhing against his iron-fisted hold, I force my legs closed. The same dance every time.

  I never win.

  He bites my earlobe and his feet move between mine, kicking them apart, before he wraps one large leg around my thigh to lock me in place. The struggle only urges him on—I have to stop fighting. And when I do, accepting my punishment, praying he’s quick…my fucking treacherous body deceives me.

  I feel myself slick against his rough fingers. I cringe and squeeze my eyes closed tighter.

  “Yes,” he says against my ear. “There’s my fucking dirty girl. You can’t hide from me.” He pinches me hard, wrenching a cry from my mouth, and then his hand is gone.

  He backs away just enough to grip the hem of my tank top, then I hear the loud tear of material, fibers ripping, shredding the seams of my sanity. The cool air assaults my skin. My whole body shivers, fright enveloping me. A cold, hard object lightly grazes my bare back.

  I shudder slightly, attempting to keep from flinching. I know what that object is; his favorite. He’s wasting no time getting to his good part. I keep my eyes sealed shut. Do not react.

  I sense his presence before me, moving in, as he drags the cane along my stomach. “Look at me, Sadie.”

  My eyes fly open. He’s never used my name before. Never wanted me to feel like a person. I’m his pet. His possession. At this point, I almost inherently believe that.

  His face is not how I pictured it behind his mask. He’s younger than my parents; thirtyish, maybe. Dark strands of hair layer a handsome face. It’s all wrong. He should be vile. Inhuman. Not blessed with… I almost think beauty. But I cannot even utter that word in my head without the nauseous tumble pulling me under.

  I never want to hear that word again.

  He leans down, cane pressed against my belly. His hot breath sears my shoulder. “You’re not like the others,” he whispers. “They didn’t enjoy their punishment.”

  My jaw tightens, my neck quivers, making my head shake from the restraint. Fear evaporates, and anger bursts forth. “You’re sick. I’m nothing like you.”

  My head is yanked back as he digs his fingers into my hair and grips at my scalp. His gray eyes widen. Face right before mine. “Remember, Sadie. Every time you suck a dick, every time you fucking come, see these eyes watching you. I know where you live.” His tongue snakes out to lick my chin. “Now, let’s have some fun before we’re interrupted.”

  The confusion at his words pushes my eyebrows together, but I’m not lost for long. In the moment he raises the cane to strike, a bang reverberates through the room, followed by stomps against the ceiling. My captor releases my hair. Fury ignites his eyes, his silver irises aglow with rage.

  He pushes me away from him and snaps the cane apart, revealing a blade lodged at the head. I swing back into his arms as the footfalls grow louder. He moves behind me and clutches me against his chest, the blade pressed to my throat.

  “God, what I could’ve done with you, accomplished, if I’d had more time. Never forget your lessons.” The blade drags along my collarbone, a searing fire splitting my skin and bone, and a shrill scream scrapes my throat as it claws free. “You were truly special, my filthy Sadie.”

  Blackness threatens the corners of my vision. I’m detaching again…fading. My defense against the pain and terror. But my tormentor won’t let me fall. He keeps ahold of me; taking me with him.

  “Drop your weapon!” Shouts. Clicks. Then a thunderous boom bursts my eardrums.

  Damp warmth sprays over me. Covers me, drenching me in blood.

  Silence hums. I close my eyes. A blink that lasts an eternity. And when I finally open my eyes, the world is red.

  Knox ~ Eve Jagger

  Chapter One

  I pull up to the Library bar in a brand-new gunmetal gray Porsche. Bit of an upgrade from the rental I was clunking around in last time I was in town. What can I say, I had some time to kill after meeting my new coach and checking out the facilities.

  I toss the keys to the valet and sail past the crowd, while giving the bouncer a nod. “Welcome home, Knox,” he says as leans in for a fist-bump, “I’m looking forward to watching you play for the right team this season.”

  A couple of girls in line perk up at the sight of our exchange. I like the skin-tight jumpsuit and bright red heels I’m seeing behind that velvet rope, but there’ll be plenty of opportunities for mingling with the locals once I’ve caught up with my friends. And part of me is hoping I’ll run into Shelby. A woman so far from being a groupie she actually dislikes the fact that I’m a baseball player.

  The thought of her name has me taking a trip down memory lane to that late night caper on that ratchety old baseball field. Long brown hair, perfect little nipples, and an ass that could make a grown man cry. Damn. I wish I’d gotten her number, but she made it clear that our New Year’s Eve adventure was only going to
be a one-time thing.

  Technically a two-time thing, if you count that time on the couch.

  Make that four, for those times in the shower and on her bedroom floor.

  I shake off thoughts of Shelby as I muscle my way through the crowd and up to the bar. “Barkeep, what does it take to get some service around here?”

  Cash turns around, a hand raised to meet mine in a clasp that quickly turns into a bear hug.

  “Man, it is so good to have you back. What are you having?”

  “How about a generous helping of my favorite scotch?”

  “You got it.” He sets me up with a nice pour from a good-looking bottle of Macallan and leads me upstairs to the VIP section.

  The place still looks good, with the dark, oaky feel of the bookstore that used to be here. All the work of Jackson has paid off, the architect in our crew, whose face is the first thing I see as I round the corner at the top of the stairs. The whole crew is out tonight—Parker, Ryder and his girl Cassie, and Savannah, Cash’s ball and chain. The DJ starts playing Mötley Cruë’s “Home Sweet Home,” and as I look around I realize that the room is filled with old friends and acquaintances.

  I’ve been so focused on the trade that I’d almost forgotten a homecoming would be part of the package.

  “You forgotten what Southern hospitality feels like, buddy?” Ryder comes in for a pound, his brawling days behind him but still looking every inch the fighter. A cocktail waitress rolls up with a bucket of champagne and some flutes, and we pop the cork on a bottle of Moët. “To the official and permanent reunion of the Sexy Bastards of Atlanta,” Cassie toasts as we raise our glasses.

 

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