Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4)

by Kelli Callahan

  Cruel Intoxication

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2020 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Cruel Temptations

  Join My Mailing List

  Kelli’s Voracious Vixens

  About the Author

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  Prologue

  Owen

  Twenty-One Years ago

  Life is good.

  Real fucking good.

  I have a wife. I have a kid on the way. I have everything a man could dream of and more. I have the job that pays more than the bills and allows me and my family to live in luxury. I just retired from the military as a combat medic, and now I sell medical supplies and do demonstrations of how to effectively use the equipment. I also am a CPR instructor and certified EMT. I’m constantly busy.

  But I’m never too busy for my family. I make sure to get off at five o’clock so I’m home for the evening. There’s nothing better than seeing Annabeth after a long day. She’s so damn pretty, and she has this way about her that has the stress of the day melting away from me. I don’t know if it’s her long dark hair or the smooth harmonic whisper of her voice, but I’m so damn thankful for it.

  “Damn, what the hell is going on?” I turn the wheel to the right and inch off the road to get a look at what’s going on, but for miles all I see is traffic ahead. I glance at the clock on the dash and realize I’m going to be late for dinner. I dig my phone from the console and dial my wife’s number, then put it on speaker. I grip the wheel tight with one hand when I see a black cloud of smoke a few miles ahead. There must be an accident.

  The phone rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. “Hi, this is Annabeth. Sorry I can’t come to the phone. Please leave a message, and I’ll make sure to get back to you when I can. Have a great day! Bye,” she says sweetly, and I can’t help but smile.

  The guys give me shit about how gone I am over this woman, but I love her. Five years with her and forever to go. I can’t fucking wait.

  “Hey, sweetheart. It’s me. I’m in bumper to bumper traffic. I don’t know how long I’ll be. I just wanted to let you know. I love you. I’ll see you soon. Bye, baby.” I press the button that ends the call and sag against the leather seat as traffic inches forward.

  The sun is blazing through the window and heating the side of my face until I sweat. I pump up the air conditioning and keep flicking my eyes toward the time. Only a few minutes have gone by since I last called her. I just want to go home.

  I loosen the tie and press the gas slightly when traffic starts moving.

  Only to fucking stop.

  “Jesus. Come on, there has to be another way.” There’s an exit about a mile ahead. I can take the back way. It adds on ten minutes, but if I stay here, it could add on an hour, maybe more. It means I have to cut through the grass and hope a cop doesn’t see me.

  Worth it.

  Right as I’m about to turn off the shoulder, my phone rings. Picking it up, I smile when I see Annabeth calling me back. I answer and hit speaker again. “Hey, baby, what are you wearing?” I say in a low growl, answering the phone like I do every time she calls.

  “Ow-en?”

  I sit up straighter when I hear the struggle in her voice. “Annabeth? What’s wrong?” She gurgles and coughs, then starts to cry. “Annabeth?” I slam my palm on my hazard lights and punch the gas, ripping the grass as her choked voice has me on the verge of panic. “I need you to talk to me, baby. What’s wrong? Please, talk to me.”

  “He came out of nowhere,” she gasps.

  I honk the horn when someone cuts in front of me to do the same thing I’m doing. Fear unlike anything I’ve ever felt before rampages inside me as I swerve around the car to try to get to Annabeth as fast as I can. My truck fishtails, turning up chunks of grass through the air.

  “Who? What are you talking about, sweetheart? What happened? Just talk to me, okay? Talk to me. Please,” I choke. I can hear the struggle in her voice, the effort in her throat as she tries to speak. I lay a hand against my heart when my chest starts to hurt. My heart is racing, my mind is swirling, and all I can think about is getting to her before…

  Before.

  “A man,” she wheezes. “Broke in the house. Stabbed me.”

  I bite my lips and shake my head in denial. “No. No! You’re going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay? You’re going to be okay.”

  “The baby,” she cries. “I can’t get the blade out, Owen.”

  A sob leaves my throat as I take a right onto the exit. My tires squeal, and the truck frame creaks and rocks. “Where is the blade, Annabeth?”

  “My stomach,” she says painfully. “I can’t breathe, Owen.” Annabeth has another coughing fit, and I look down to see where the fuck my foot is to see why the truck isn’t going faster. The pedal is against the floorboard, and the engine is pushing itself to the limit.

  “What did he want, Annabeth? Did he say?” A tear rolls down the side of my cheek. This has to be random. Some freak incident. I’m not going to let my wife and baby die. What kind of man does that make me if I allow that to happen?

  A rustle in the background has her crying more. “Shhh, shhh,” I hear. “It will all be over soon.”

  “Who is that? Annabeth!” I yell and spit flies from my mouth and hits the windshield.

  “Hello, Owen,” a man answers my wife’s phone. “How are you?”

  “What the fuck do you want? Money? Take whatever you fucking want. Leave my wife alone! Please, she’s pregnant.” I’m not usually the type of man to beg, but I’ll beg for my wife’s life.

  The stranger chuckles, and another round of screams coming from Annabeth has me holding a hand over my mouth, trying to keep my emotions at bay. “Stop, please. Whatever you’re doing, just stop. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take her place. You want to kill me? Kill me. Take me.”

  “I don’t think so,” his voice deepens on a sneer. “You took everything from me. It only makes sense for me to take everything from you.”

  That doesn’t make any sense. I’ve crossed my T’s my entire fucking life. There’s no way I’m to blame for anything. “I’ve done nothing to you or anyone. What you’re doing is cruel. Please, leave her alone. I can’t live without her.”

  Another scream bursts through my eardrum, and I swerve off the road. He’s doing something to her. I don’t know what, but when I find out, I’m going to kill him. “I’m almost home. When I get there, I’m going to rip your heart from your fucking body.”

  He chuckles again. “What makes you think I’ll be here? I’m going to be cl
ose enough to watch you watch her die, just like I had to do with my wife. Your fucking medical equipment did nothing for her. You’re a fraud. A joke. I’m going to take down the entire company, and I can’t wait to see all of you suffer the way I have.”

  “No, no listen! That wasn’t me. I don’t make the equipment—”

  “You sell it, which means you believed in it. I believed in you, and my wife is gone. You better hurry, Owen. There’s a lot of blood.”

  “No, don’t hang—”

  But it’s too late. A dial tone replaces my wife’s scream, and an agonizing roar rips through my chest. Right as I’m about to call the cops, my phone dings. It’s a message from my wife.

  Well, from him.

  “Don’t even think about calling the cops, or I’ll gut her right here.”

  “Goddamn it! No, please no. This can’t be real. It can’t be.” I rock back and forth as much as I can while driving. “Fuck!” I scream and throw my phone against the windshield so hard the back comes off and the screen shatters. I feel sick. It’s like this isn’t my life anymore. I’m living someone else’s. We are the Carters. Everyone loves us. I’ve kept my nose down, clean. I did my job the way I was supposed to, and now I’m getting blamed for a death that isn’t my fault?

  “Please be okay. Please be okay,” I say to myself as I pull into the driveway. I slam on the brakes, and the tires blow smoke, sending the smell of burnt rubber through the vents. The first thing I notice is how nothing has changed. The roses are still red, pink, and white. The sunflowers are as bright as the sun, and the grass is still green as a damn four-leaf clover. My wife’s car is on the other side of the driveway, like it always is.

  The mailman waves.

  The neighbor is watering his lawn.

  But my life on the inside of this house will not be the same. The universe doesn’t stop, even if my world does.

  I grab the door handle and jerk it, but it’s locked. “God! Just open.” I flip the lock and jump out of the truck, only for my seatbelt to stop me. I click the red button, and the clasp releases. I’m free. I don’t bother closing the door. I run straight to the front door to find it open as well. “Annabeth?” I call out her name as I dash into the house. I take a left into the dining room, but she isn’t there. It smells good, like roasted chicken and potatoes.

  My favorite.

  I hold a hand to my chest again when unbearable pain sears it as I search the kitchen next. Just pots. The one on the stove is boiling, and the oven is smoking from something burning, but I don’t care. The house can burn down if it means my wife and child are dead. I grab a knife and head toward the living room. The floorboards creak, and the sound of her show is on, some soap opera that she watches every day.

  Not finding her here, I turn around and head up the steps, taking three at a time until I get to our bedroom, where we had just made love this morning before I went to work. I push the door open, and the strength in me is sucked from my soul. I fall to my knees when I see her on the ground, a knife protruding from her small, slightly swollen belly.

  “No,” I choke and crawl over to her. Oh my God, there is so much blood. It’s a huge puddle surrounding her. Her hair is soaked, laying in the red sea oozing out of her. “Baby, baby, I got you, sweetheart. I have you.” I pick her up, blood slipping through my fingers and staining my khaki pants as I lay her on my lap. I push her hair out of her pale face, and she coughs, blood spattering on my face. Her teeth are red.

  Everything is fucking red.

  “I love you, okay? I love you so much.” I squeeze her tighter and clench my teeth as I say the words. “I’m going to take the knife out, okay?”

  “Owen,” she barely manages to say my name from how weak she is.

  “I’m here. We’re going to be fine, okay? Just fine. We’re going to be okay.” I know I’m trying to convince myself as I wrap my hand around the knife. “The baby is going to be fine. She’ll be okay.” My daughter. I sob and take a second to ty compose myself.

  “No, no. It doesn’t matter.” She shivers. “It’s too late, my angel.” She lays her bloodied palm against my cheek.

  My angel.

  It’s what she has called me since the day we met because I saved her from a bee that was buzzing around her head.

  “It matters. I can call an ambulance.” I sniffle. “You’re right. Leaving it in is better because if I pull it out you could bleed more. I don’t want to hurt our daughter. I’ll be back. I’m getting the phone.”

  When I reach toward the nightstand for the phone, she grips my shirt and shakes her head. “No! No cops. He said if you call, he will kill you.”

  “I don’t care about me. I need you. I need you and our daughter—”

  “I haven’t felt her move in a while, Owen.” She begins to cry and then screams as emotion is too painful. Her hand is cupped around the knife, and I scurry closer to to hold her again, phone in hand.

  A red glare hits my palm, and I look up to see a laser from a sniper rifle at me coming from the window. I look down at Annabeth and her eyes are wide, staring at the dot. “You can’t die. Okay?”

  “I don’t want to live without you or her,” I state, laying my hand on her belly. “Please don’t do this. Please let me call.”

  “No,” she almost finds the strength to yell. “Promise me.” Her eyes well with tears. “Promise me you won’t call an ambulance.” More blood erupts from her lips, dripping down the corners of her mouth like molten lava. I’m drenched in her blood now. I can feel my khakis sticking to my thighs from the liquid. “Promise me, you’ll live. Promise you’ll find love again and live a good life.”

  I bend down and place a kiss on her lips while holding my hand over hers where our baby is … was. I can’t help but shake my head. “I don’t want to live knowing I’m not with you two. I’d rather die so we can be together than live a miserable life apart. Please, Annabeth, don’t die. Let me call—”

  “It’s too late. I’ll be dead by the time they get here.”

  “No,” I cry. “No, no, no. You’re going to be fine. I can… I can fix you. I can fix it. Where is my—”

  “Owen, hold me,” she whispers, her eyes fluttering shut. “Hold us.”

  “Forever.” I cradle Annabeth, giving her a weak smile. “You’re the love of my life. You’re my dream.” I lean my forehead against hers and kiss her deeply, passionately, regardless if all I taste is blood. I have to feel her lips on me one last time. “I can’t…” I break away. “I can’t be without you.”

  “Promise me. Promise, you’ll find love again. Don’t hide away in darkness like you did before.”

  Before her is what she means.

  “Promise me, Owen. Promise me, you’ll love again,” she begs, and a tear rolls down her cheek as I lay a palm on her heart and keep one on her stomach.

  I hate this. I don’t want to promise. I want to die if she doesn’t live, but I can’t deny a dying woman’s last words. I can’t. “I…” I lick my lips, tasting her blood on them. “I promise.”

  She gives a faint smile. “My angel. I love you. You were … my everything.” She wheezes and lays a hand over my heart. “Do good.” Annabeth smiles the best she can, her breaths ragged and slow as she struggles to live.

  Minutes go by, and a heavy whoosh of breath escapes her as her eyes stare vacantly at me.

  “Annabeth?” I shake her as I stare in her dilated eyes. “Annabeth!” I place my ear to her chest and when I don’t hear a heartbeat, my ears ring from the silence as I scream. Time slows, my heart aches like it never has before, and I hold her limp body to my chest while I mourn the loss of the only woman who made my life worth a damn.

  I loved her deeply, fiercely, proudly, intensely.

  I’ll never be able to love again.

  “No,” I sob and lay her flat. “No, I refuse.” I pump her chest with my hands and administer CPR. “I won’t live without you.” I breathe into her mouth three times and start compressions.

  With eve
ry pump, more blood gushes from the wound in her belly, and I don’t know what to do. My daughter. My baby needs me. My wife needs me. I continue compressions until my arms ache, and the sun is leaving the sky.

  I’m swimming in the depths of her blood now.

  “Promise me you’ll love again.”

  I’ll never love again, but I know I have to live with this emptiness in my chest for the rest of my life. I deserve it. I couldn’t save her.

  “I’m so sorry.” I lean against the bed and clutch her body to mine, my hand still against her stomach, holding onto the swell like I did every night. “I love you.”

  I sit on the cold hardwood floor, holding my dead wife and daughter, and cry. Painful wails leave my broken chest. I’m sobbing so loud, I don’t even hear the sirens in the distance or the stomping of footsteps coming up the steps.

  “Hands in the air! Step away from the body.”

  A police officer tries to take my wife away, but I can’t let him take her. She’s mine. I need her. I rear my fist back and punch him in the face, and another cop subdues me while the other pulls Annabeth from my grasp.

  “You have the right to remain silent…”

  My Miranda rights are read to me, but the words fade in the distance as I watch my wife’s body be laid on a gurney, then zipped up in a black bag.

  I know what I’ll do.

  I’ll say I murdered her and then my life in prison will be terrible, punishable. I’ll be alive, and I won’t have to worry about breaking my promise. I can’t love behind bars.

  Not that I’d want to anyway.

  The only thing that mattered to me was taken.