PowerLess: Anti-Hero Game: Power Chain Book Three

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Dane, I’m glad you could make it. Jolin sees real potential in you, son.”

  Son.

  The word still grated my every nerve.

  I was no man’s son.

  That potential he saw… it wasn’t potential. It was desperation.

  The hardest lesson I had learned in my fucked up life was desperate people made mistakes.

  Entering Freeman Zook’s world was the biggest mistake I had ever made.

  I was desperate once.

  I wouldn’t allow myself to be ever again.

  No, now I was a man determined to break the chains that bound me once and for all.

  1

  Aspen

  Valentine’s Day.

  This holiday was the biggest rip-off ever, only set out to take hard-earned money. It was one holiday I despised. Single or in a relationship, I still hated it.

  Couldn’t people see through the hoopla, the big balloon bouquets, and stupid, throw up, fake happy they put on commercials to pull people in to buy, buy, buy? Money didn’t mean love. To me, love was a gift you gave your mate every day. It wasn’t saying those three little words either. It was all in the actions you both did for each other. Words were sometimes nothing more than words. I wanted to have a partner who I truly felt the depths of their emotions for me.

  The sly, offhanded touches in the kitchen in the morning while getting coffee. The way your significant other opened the car door for you while you got in. The flirty little comebacks you spar with each other making everything around you fun and exciting. The comfort of a lover’s embrace when the world dealt you a deep blow. There was so much more to love than what Valentine’s showed.

  It wasn’t those three little words every moment of the day. Again, the actions, the memories, the feelings were what mattered. It wasn’t the roses that cost out the ass and died in a few days. It wasn’t the gigantic teddy bears that once you got them, had nowhere to put them because of their size and ended up giving them to Goodwill. As much as I loved chocolate, it was overpriced and I’d rather grab a Hershey’s for fifty-cents.

  No. Love was about everyday actions where two people expressed that feeling without thought. They just did it because they felt it.

  Me, all I desired was a partner, a friend, an intimate companion who expressed these things to me and I returned the favor. Except for me, it wasn’t in the cards. I didn’t have time to give to a relationship right now even if I had a potential life partner.

  My entire focus was on work so I could survive. I didn’t have an inheritance, a trust fund, or parents to bail me out if I fell on hard times. The only family I had left was living in a facility that devoured all the income she had. If my grandmother needed anything extra, it was on me to provide it. She didn’t know that’s how it worked, and I wasn’t going to tell her either. After everything Gramma did for me, I would do anything for her.

  My feet throbbed, screaming to get out of the confines of my work shoes. Parking my car beside Royal’s, I had one focus: get off my feet. At least the snow wasn’t coming down tonight. Our driveway and parking spots were still clear from the weekend when we broke out the blower to clear the space. I was thankful for the ease of getting inside even if I was bitching the whole time we were cleaning up the white stuff this past weekend. The pain shot up my legs as I stepped out of my car onto the concrete of our driveway. Then again with the weight of each movement. It was a reminder with every motion of the long day I had endured. Hard work never bothered me, it was my body that groaned because of it.

  Home. Finally.

  The small two-bedroom cottage-style home called to me begging me to get inside and put my legs up. The house wasn’t much. Two bedrooms—one for me and one for my best friend, Royal—a living room, bathroom, and kitchen.

  Small. Quaint. Perfect.

  Life was the two of us, Royal and me. It had been this way for years now.

  We’d hit every garage sale we could find to outfit the place, looking for the good stuff that people didn’t see potential in and we brought it back to life. I loved this place, but loved it more because Royal and I built a life together in it.

  Since we both worked in the city, but hated the traffic, we gladly made the thirty-minute drive out of it to have a little more seclusion. Away from people, yet close to the conveniences we needed. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania was an amazing melting pot of people, cultures, and always on the go. Our home was the hideaway from our daily life in the city.

  Relaxing. Calm.

  Absolutely perfect.

  Today, my day had been filled with client after client getting ready for some extravagant date. So much primping and pampering, it was insane. The spa was jam packed, even appointments stacked on appointments, and I happened to be the only licensed esthetician on staff at the moment. This meant longer days. Longer times on my feet, but the tips were outstanding considering it was a high-end place and those women didn’t mess around if they liked you.

  Vivienne, the other esthetician, recently decided working on women’s faces wasn’t the career for her. This happened several times in the years I’d been at the spa because it sounds glamourous, but it’s damn hard work. Primping, plucking, rubbing, popping, smoothing—all of it went hand in hand and it wasn’t for everyone. With the calendar fully booked with facials, chemical peels, scrubs and exfoliations since it was a big day for them, I just dug in deep and made shit work. This meant no lunch. No breaks for peeing. In turn, it made it a long ass day, but profitable.

  Tonight, I was going to use those extra tips to splurge. The call to the delivery man had been made, and in less than thirty minutes he would be pulling up to surprise Royal with a sushi dinner. Her favorite.

  She had been through a lot these last few days, and I wanted to do something to cheer her up.

  I’d met Royal when we were eight-years-old. She actually got mad at me on the monkey bars and yanked me down hard by my feet which caused me to fall and break my arm. After I returned to school in a cast, she realized the extent of my injury and went out of her way to have every kid in our class sign the neon orange wrap. She carried my lunch tray every day, opened doors for me, and carried anything that needed to be until I was healed and the cast came off.

  We’d been inseparable since, and over the years she became the sister I never had, but always wanted.

  Her asshole of a boyfriend dumped her last week. After three years together, he said she wasn’t wife material; whatever in the fuck that meant. Royal was crushed, saying she loved him. Me, while I didn’t relish in her pain one bit, he had always rubbed me the wrong way. It was just a feeling, but I was happy she was shot of him and free to find someone worthy of her. He had this creepy vibe that I couldn’t pin down nor could I describe. He was never overly rude or cruel to her in front of me, but he wasn’t loving either. If anything, he was disinterested. Every interaction we had I could only sum him up as disingenuous.

  I vowed to be her Valentine and make it the best girl night possible. Sushi, wine, and a chick-flick with extra butter on popcorn were in order. We could eat, drink, and get lost in the fictional land where everyone gets some sort of happily ever after.

  There were lights on throughout the house as I walked to the front door, this was common. I turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked, but I didn’t push through. It was a rule we had—always lock the door no matter what. We’d spent way too many nights watching those stupid Dateline shows that went into the minds of criminals. Yes, it made us both a little paranoid, but we didn’t stop watching them. That shit was interesting.

  Reaching for my cell phone, I remembered it had died after I called in dinner and my car charger was broken. Plugging it in at the salon would now be my top priority so it was charged when I left the place.

  Immediately, my aches were forgotten. My pulse quickened, and my ears seemed to perk up listening intently. I looked around the yard. Nothing but the white snow packed into the landscape could be seen. Since I shoveled
my way out, there were no extra foot prints on the sidewalks. Royal’s car had a three-inch layer of the white stuff letting me know she hadn’t left home today. Again, I listened.

  Silence.

  Slowly, I made my way inside, trying to steady the shaking that came in my hands.

  Royal hated quiet. If she was in the house, she had to have noise all the time. She even slept with the radio on. I always joked that we could save a fortune on our electric bill if she would just turn the television off. Twenty-four-hours a day, seven days a week it remained on, even when she wasn’t in the room or home. She wouldn’t walk into a quiet, dark house either. So no matter where we went, the television had to remain on.

  Except, it wasn’t. Silence.

  The hair on my arms stood up as goose bumps washed over me. Fear like no other raced through my fingertips. I started to call out her name, but stopped when I heard the thump and whimper coming from down the hallway.

  I had to be smart. Stop and think, don’t simply react. We took a self-defense class together at the community college when we were attending. The instructor said a person who kept their wits about them lived, one who reacted without thinking wound up dead.

  Steadying my breathing, I tried to remain calm. Fear gripped me like never before. We were in the middle of a field. We had no neighbors. If something happened to Royal, it was up to me to help her.

  We weren’t about to wind up on an episode of Criminal Minds live version. I would save us.

  At the door, we always kept a baseball bat, just in case a zombie decided to sneak up on us, but I had a feeling this wasn’t a zombie. I grabbed it, dropped my purse and keys quietly, and took off down the hall to her room as adrenaline kicked in and all that was in my head was—find Royal now.

  Her bedroom door was hanging sideways from the hinges with pieces of wood scattering the floor beneath it. It had to have been locked because boot prints were on the white paint right by the doorknob. Slowly, I stepped forward and the sight in front of me caused me to freeze in place, my blood running cold.

  On the bed, Royal was pinned face down a beefy hand holding her against the mattress with force.

  Her head was turned to me and blood poured from her nose, her eyes were swollen almost shut, her mouth trying to get out noises, but she was only able to get out air. Blood was all over her naked body coming from cuts and tears in her skin. She was in utter agony.

  My heart thumped loudly through my ears. I was frantic as I watched the scene in front of me, trying to determine my next steps.

  Over her was her asshole of an ex-boyfriend, his pants hanging around his ankles as he thrust inside of her roughly. Royal’s legs were at awkward angles and she cried out with every move, but her voice was gone. Tears ran down her face in solid streams mixing with the blood and creating pools of red.

  Every time it only sounded like a strangled moan instead of a cry for help, like he did something to her vocal cords. How long had he been here? What had she endured already? My heart broke for my friend.

  “Bitch thought you’d give this pussy away,” he muttered before raising his hand up.

  The glistening of metal caught my eye as I realized he wielded a knife. He brought it down onto Royal’s flesh slicing her side beside her breast and over to her back. Red began flowing from it immediately falling down to the bed beneath her.

  “I’m gonna mark you so the whole world knows.”

  Royal choked out another mangled sob.

  “Or maybe I’ll just kill you. I don’t want you anymore. You’re fucking trash.”

  At his words, I snapped, red filtering over my eyes as the shock faded and anger took over. The only thing on my mind was survival—getting my friend out of this, now.

  Swinging the bat wildly, I connected with his head sending a bone-crushing sound around the room.

  He fell off Royal, grabbing his head and falling from the bed to the floor.

  She rolled over, her movements not immediate, and looked to me with whatever part of her vision she could.

  Her eyes flickered with fear and sadness under her overly swollen eyelids. “Aspen, what have you done?” she said in a strained, scratchy voice that left out different syllables in her words. I could now see the handprints around her throat which must’ve been the cause of her broken words.

  “Come on, Royal, we gotta get help.” I darted to her, grabbed her hand, and tried to pull her up from the bed. Pain or not, we were going far, far away from here.

  “Aspen, get in your car and don’t look back,” she demanded, trying to push me off. She cried out in pain and I released her as she fell to the floor beside her man, rubbing her hands on his arm. The way she got to him even with her injuries and in pain left me stunned. How could she easily push that back? It had to be agony.

  I was shocked. No, what I felt was hurt and anger. Anger that she’d even think of consoling this dickhead after what he was doing to her. Hurt because she was pushing me, her best friend of forever, away to be with this asshole who was hurting her all the while doting over him like he was a damn prince.

  “Go!” she turned and yelled at me. Her eyes locked to mine, and I read her expression: terror.

  “When I get my hands on you, bitch. I’m gonna kill you,” the asshole told me as he began to rise, hand coming down from his head stained red. I didn’t know if that was his blood or hers. I hoped his.

  I didn’t have time to process it all as Royal spoke.

  “Please, baby. She doesn’t know anything. Just let Aspen go. I’ll give you what you want,” Royal pleaded with him and then turned her head to me.

  Her eyes were almost unable to be seen as she locked her gaze to me, “Go,” she mouthed just as he harshly yanked her hair back.

  “I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” she said, grabbing on to his arms and trying to get his attention back on her and away from me.

  The abrupt change in Royal scared me more than the scene I had just witnessed. He was hurting her, violating her in the worst possible way, and yet she was on her knees promising to take care of him. Who did that? When did she get so lost?

  Worry, trepidation, and so many other emotions filled me. This wasn’t like her. She was strong. Determined and focused.

  She had shit taste in men, and that was her downfall.

  Knowing the man in her room was not the kind to have idle conversations or actually ever be nice or even civil to me, I knew without a doubt, I was in danger. I had to think smart. Royal was giving me a way out. A way to take the pain and keep me from it.

  If the shoe was on the other foot, I would do the same for her.

  Jolin Zook had a temper, one my best friend had told me about. I begged Royal not to get involved with the likes of him after our first encounter.

  But she always had a thing for the bad boys. Jolin, though, wasn’t one of those bad boys who had edge, but would do anything in the world for the woman he loved. He wasn’t the kind of bad boy women dreamed of and swooned over. He was the kind of man found in nightmares. He only thought of himself and to hell with anyone else. Bad boys were okay, if you found the right one. Royal hadn’t.

  Royal pleaded with Jolin telling him how much she loved him and all the things she would do for him. It made me sick. I wanted to yank her up and take her with me.

  The thing was, even if she was trying to get him away from me, she meant each and every one of those words. She would do whatever he wanted to give me time to get away. It was written all over her. She didn’t want to be alone and would take whatever he dished out.

  There were some people in life you couldn’t save.

  Right now, Royal was one of them.

  She wasn’t going to leave with me. She wasn’t going to turn her back on Jolin even though he had just crossed a line. She knew he would want me to pay for hurting him, and this was the only way to save me.

  It crushed me inside knowing my strong friend was choosing him, even if it was to help me.

  Now, I was thoroug
hly screwed and my only hope was to leave my home and pray tomorrow the dust would settle.

  So I did the only thing I could at the moment… I ran.

  In life, I believed you faced what was thrown at you… typically. Seeing the devil’s glare from Jolin Zook, my instincts screamed to get out while I could. Taking off felt like my only option.

  Sushi forgotten, I grabbed my bag and keys from the floor and hit the road in the dark of night with nothing but regrets.

  Maybe this could all somehow be a bad dream.

  2

  Dane

  I pulled up to the cottage and found the place lit up like a damn mall. Outside lights on everywhere, every room inside the house shined bright, and even the walkway was lit with those solar things that didn’t work all that well, but enough. Someone seriously hated to be in the dark. The ability to see clearly wasn’t always a good thing, though. In the dark, a woman had the advantage of knowing her space over an intruder. This house, the way the lights were on, I could memorize the entire interior in the next hour. Cutting the power, I would be at the advantage over the residents and easily be able to take everyone out inside.

  I sat in my work car—flat black Dodge Durango with completely blacked-out tint that I could see out of but no one could see inside. Undistinguished, yet blended in with the surroundings much better than my Jag ever would. The plates, should someone run them, traced back to an alias from Virginia, with a backup plate in the trunk if needed.

  All bases covered.

  Always.

  The car was invisible, therefore, I was invisible too. Just to make one hundred percent sure I angled the vehicle in a way I couldn’t be seen should one of the two women who lived here decide by some chance to look out.

  Settling in for my scout, I waited and watched. Patience was something I’d honed in years ago and with my job, it was a must.