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

by Kelli Callahan

  For some odd reason, his presence, his honesty, his protection, they bring me comfort. Maybe it’s because my instincts know I’m not alone. My heart tells me I’m safe which is odd because I haven’t felt that in a really long time.

  Something even scarier enters my mind.

  What if I get used to the safety?

  It’s a feeling I’ll get used to, but what happens when it is taken away from me?

  I want to stay in this tent forever.

  Maybe then the outside world will leave me alone, and I’ll be safe.

  Five

  Owen

  The fire’s going out, and the sun is starting to set which brings in colder air and the sound of crickets. The croaking of frogs sings by the river, and an owl hoots somewhere in the distance. It’s peaceful. This is the life. This is what I’ve needed.

  And having Jolie here, it’s taken my mind off the pain of Annabeth, which only makes me feel guilty. My mind should always be on her, no matter the circumstances. I unscrew the cap on the new bottle of whiskey and take a bigger swig. The burn scorches my throat, but it doesn’t burn away the pain.

  Taking care of Jolie temporarily sidetracked my mind.

  I pour some alcohol on the dwindling fire and bring it back to life. I lean back to lay on the forest floor, the leaves crunching from my weight, and as I look through the tops of the trees, I sigh. The stars twinkle as I stare at the sky. I think about Annabeth and how suddenly things feel different this year. I don’t know how or why, but I’m tired of hurting.

  I think I’ve reached the breaking point.

  I’m not sure when it happened. I know I’ll always miss the life I never had. I never want to move on or love another, but I’m ready for my heart to not hurt every time I take a fucking breath.

  Maybe seeing Jolie all fucked up and nearly starved to death put my life in perspective. It’s been twenty years since Annabeth and my daughter died. There are terrible things happening to people now, people who aren’t mourning for twenty years, but actually trying to move on with their lives, to be better, to get better.

  I haven’t tried.

  Not once.

  I never cared to.

  Part of me still doesn’t.

  But I know I need to. Seeing Jolie, obviously running for her life, skin and bone, hurt beyond belief, she’s trying to live.

  She ran to survive.

  What have I been doing?

  She’s stronger than I’ll ever be because since she found the courage to fight for herself, I’ve given up. Jolie doesn’t want to die, and I’ve been waiting for the day for my heart to finally stop beating. I’m young.

  Ish.

  I’m in my early forties, but I look like I’m in my thirties. I have the rest of my life still, and it can be a good one, but how has an entire lifetime, how has twenty years gone by so slow and fast?

  How is this possible?

  I tuck my arm behind my head to use it as a pillow and shut my eyes, preparing to fall asleep for the night when the sound of a twig snapping has me jolting upright. I listen closely, debating whether it’s an animal or not, but when I hear another snap, and then another, I grab my gun and cock it.

  There shouldn’t be anyone but me in these woods.

  Even Jolie is a rarity, but I said I’d protect her, and I meant it. I’m a man of my word.

  99.9% of the time.

  My eyes catch something up ahead when another step sounds. I point my gun in the direction of the noise and stand, staring at a shadow walking closer to me. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop walking or I’ll blow your fucking heart out of your chest,” I warn just as the fire crackles and spurts sparks into the air.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” a male’s voice echoes throughout the night, and birds caw as they fly out of the tree, away from him and toward me. I watch as they perch on a branch above my head which only tells me this guy is trouble.

  I trust animals.

  I don’t trust people, unless they are my people.

  And my group is small. I don’t plan on expanding it anytime soon.

  He stops on the other side of the fire, and the glow allows me to see his face. He’s a big guy, about my size, and he has a scratch on the right side of his cheek. His hair is long, shaggy, and black, blending in with the night around him. He smiles, trying to reassure me that he means no harm, but I know evil when I see it.

  And this man is drenched in it from head to toe.

  “I’ve killed people for less,” I tell him, still aiming the gun at his head. “I suggest you turn around and go back from where you came from.” I hope Jolie isn’t awake to hear me say that. She’ll run away and be in danger again.

  The guy holds up his hands, pretending to not be a threat. It’s late, it’s cold, so whoever is walking out in the middle of the woods at this hour is up to no good. The shirt he’s wearing is white, stained with dirt, grease, and something else I can’t decipher.

  Yeah, he’s up to no good.

  “I’m looking for my wife,” he starts to explain, and my eyes fall to his hand and see no wedding ring. “She’s lost. We were hiking, and we somehow got separated. She’s a tiny thing, brown hair, green eyes. About this high.” He holds his hand up in the air to show me how tall she is, and now I really want to kill this guy.

  He’s looking for Jolie.

  He’s the man who hurt her.

  He has to be the reason for her condition.

  I shake my head, still aiming the gun in the middle of his chest. “Sorry, it’s just me and my wife out here right now. I haven’t seen anyone like that,” I explain, trying to get him away from me. I’m not one-hundred percent sure if this man is looking for Jolie, but my instincts are telling me to keep her away.

  “You wouldn’t mind if I looked in your tent, would you?” he asks darkly, challenging me as he steps around the fire to help himself.

  Yeah, I’m not fucking around.

  I pull the trigger and give one warning shot. The bullet hits the ground next to his feet, kicking up dirt and leaves. “I do mind, actually. My wife is none of your fucking business. And last time I checked, you’re on private property. I own this property. If you don’t get the hell back, I’ll shoot you and burn your body to help cook the next deer I kill.”

  He turns his head to the left and a loud pop rings through the air as he cackles. “Twisted. I like that.” He takes a step forward and clears his throat. “You want to know what I think? I think what belongs to me is in that tent, and I’m going to fucking get it. She’s mine. She was given to me. I’m allowed to have her!”

  He does the one thing he isn’t supposed to do.

  He charges at me.

  I go to pull the trigger when my fucking gun jams, but I’m not the one to stand here and figure out what the hell is wrong with it. I slam the butt of the gun against his nose, and blood gushes down his face, but it doesn’t stop him.

  I yank the gun away and slap him across the cheek again, and the giant falls to the ground. I straddle his chest and lift my fist in the air, letting it fly across his face. I’m not letting him hurt Jolie again. He deserves death. Maybe that’s exactly what I should do.

  If I kill him, Jolie won’t ever have to worry about this threat again.

  It has to be the man who abused her. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He knows what she looks like, but without her conformation, what do I have? What if I kill the wrong man?

  Who fucking cares? The guy is a creep. Even if my wife was in the tent, no man should demand to see her.

  “You think you have the right to see my wife?” I raise my hand again and imagine him being the man who killed Annabeth. My knuckles smash against his cheek, and a sick laugh leaves him. He spits blood in my face, blinding me, and he tackles me over the flames of the fire for a split second. Not enough to burn me, but enough to have the heat tease my skin. I grunt as I land on the ground. He lifts his fist in the air to hit me, and I roll away in time as his k
nuckles land in the dirt.

  His shouts in pain since he hit something solid, and that gives me the opportunity to dive in my bag and reach for a smaller handgun. It’s a simple nine-millimeter. Nothing too special, but what I love about these guns is how lightweight, compact, and the amount of force they pack. “I suggest you get the fuck out of my face before I kill you. I don’t know who the hell you’re looking for, but I hope you never find her.”

  “I’ll find her, and when I do, I’ll make sure to find you next,” he warns.

  “Oh, good luck with that,” I say, my fingers itching to pull the trigger. I should. I really fucking should. Jolie would be better off.

  But what reason am I killing this guy? What if they are married? Is it my job to separate them? Do I need to get involved? I don’t know the entire story, but I really fucking hate this guy.

  He eyes the tent when he hears a whimper, and then he grins, wiping the blood from his nose. “I’d know that whimper from anywhere,” he chuckles. “You do have what’s mine.”

  “She isn’t yours,” I sneer, aiming the gun at his chest. “Women aren’t objects. They aren’t property. You can’t own them.”

  “Then what are they good for?” he gets to his feet and sways.

  “Everything,” I whisper as I pull the trigger, thinking of Annabeth and Jolie as the bullet lodges in the man’s chest. He falls to his knees and lifts his finger to his wound, where he will bleed to death.

  The sound of the bullet ricochets in the air, and my ears ring. I step forward, not even flinching that I’m about to kill a man. I squat next to him and yank his head back by the thick of his hair. I tsk when I see the fight leaving him so quickly. “It isn’t so easy going up against someone the same size as you, is it? You see…” I lean forward and whisper the last words he will ever hear. “Jolie is in that tent. I’m going to protect her and if that means killing assholes like you, then I’m going to relish in it.” I keep my hand wrapped between the strands of his hair and drag him across the ground toward the river.

  I’m going to drown this son-of-a-bitch, and he will never haunt anyone again.

  I’ve never killed without my team, but I’ll fill them in. They’ll support me. They always do. I’m going to listen to my gut and my gut is telling me that this guy is the reason for Jolie’s pain.

  Men who hurt women aren’t men at all.

  They deserve to die in the worst ways.

  When I get to the rushing river, I trudge through until I’m two feet deep, and I hold his head under. He doesn’t fight, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t try to live.

  Because the bullet already killed him.

  I drag his body further into the river and let it go, watching the current take the asshole who ruined Jolie’s life. It’s revenge for the abuse she's endured, and it feels great. Could I have killed the wrong man?

  Maybe.

  I highly doubt it.

  He had been looking for Jolie in these woods for a long time, but that means he must live a few miles away. I’m going to have to tell Jaxon. We need to survey where this man is from and make sure no one else is injured.

  Fuck, I should have checked his pockets for a driver’s license.

  That’s okay. When Jolie wakes up, maybe she’ll be able to give us answers. Until then, she’s safe. I couldn’t save Annabeth and my daughter, but I’ll save Jolie. I don’t care if it takes the last breath out of my lungs.

  I’m fucking saving her. I have that ability.

  And that asshole wanted her.

  I wade through the water, and my boots sink into the sand. The water cascades down my body and splashes onto the shore. I immediate shuck off my pants and walk over to the fire that’s still roaring even if I did tumble through it.

  I hang my sweatpants over the flame, then my shirt, and I hear a small gasp coming from the tent.

  Shit.

  I peer to my right and see her staring at me through the zipper of the tent. She’s crying. She turns her head to give me privacy, and I don’t think much of it. It’s an accident she saw me.

  “I assume you recognized his voice,” I say, deciding to wring out the excess water from my clothes to see if that will help with the drying process. I’ll have to go down to the bunker to get more.

  “Yes,” she answers through an emotional voice.

  “You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” I say simply. “I took care of it. I knew he was here for you.”

  The tent unzips, and she launches herself at me, wailing as she lays her cheek against my chest. Her thin arms wrap around my waist. I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid to touch her. And I’m naked.

  Yet, it isn’t as awkward as I expect it to be because it isn’t sexual. She’s just thankful. I’m surprised she’s even touching me considering she didn’t even want to hold my hand. That’s how I know she’s pushed aside her fear to try to show me her appreciation.

  “It’s okay,” I pat her shoulder so I’m not touching her too much, but still reciprocating in an appropriate way. “He’s gone.” I hope he is. I should’ve shot him twice.

  Double-tapping everything in life is key, and that includes murder. You have to make sure they are dead. I was positive he was, but maybe he wasn’t.

  I’ll cross that bridge if it starts to be built, then I’ll walk over it and fucking burn it to the ground.

  “I’m sorry you did that,” she whimpers as she pulls away, turning around to give me her back so she still gives me some amount of privacy. “I heard him talking to you, so I stayed inside. I thought you were going to give me to him. Thank you for not doing that.”

  “I knew what he wanted, and it was nothing good, especially in the state you’re end. Maybe you’ll tell me the story of what happened since I’ve just killed for you?” I ask, then curse when my shirt falls into the fire. “Damn it!” I reach for it, but it’s too late. It’s up in flames. Sighing with exhaustion, I rub my forehead with my index finger and thumb. “I need to go get more clothes. Go back to bed, okay? We will talk in the morning after breakfast.”

  “You’re okay with just … going to bed?” She turns her head to look at me, but her eyes widen as she takes in on my chest, and she spins around again. “After that?” She sniffles. “It sounded awful. I thought he was going to kill you. I should know… He did horrible things.”

  “Well, I was bigger than him, and I had other skills he didn't. It’s another day for me, Jolie. It’s right in my line of work. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Go to sleep, and we will talk about everything tomorrow after we get some sleep.”

  She wipes her cheeks on either shoulder, and even though I can only see the back of her head, she nods up and down, telling me she understands.

  “I’m just glad it’s over,” she whispers.

  “Nothing is ever over, Jolie. Don’t let your guard down now. That’s when something will take you by surprise and knock you off your feet.” I walk toward the bunker, uncaring that I’m naked.

  I’m too tired to give a fuck.

  “Okay,” she says as I step around the tree, tug on the bush, and open the door to the underground storage.

  I take a minute to gather my mind, my thoughts, and my nerves. I killed a man for someone I hardly know. I just hope I killed the right man.

  Jolie is a mystery, but that man’s intentions weren’t.

  I can’t second guess myself.

  I brought her peace, and it seems like she hasn’t had that in a long time. I need to be happy, but all I can think about is why I didn’t fucking double-tap.

  Rookie mistake.

  Six

  Jolie

  I didn’t expect to be free of my nightmare so quickly. I knew he’d look for me in the woods. When I first heard him talking to Owen, I stayed huddled in the corner of the tent, afraid to move, to breathe, and I waited for Owen to throw me to the man I worked so hard to get away from, but he didn’t.

  Instead, he killed him.

  And I’ve never been more elated
.

  I hardly slept last night, thinking about how my life is forever changed. I no longer have to look over my shoulder. I no longer have to be afraid of the dark.

  I smile, elated.

  Owen is a knight in shining armor, and I bet he has no idea.

  I stretch, waking up more refreshed than ever, then yawn. My stomach grumbles with hunger. Out of habit, I regret waking up to begin with because I never get food in the morning, but then I hear something sizzling outside the tent.

  My neck aches from sleeping in an awkward position, and I turn it to try to stretch it out. Straightening my clothes the best I can, I try to look presentable, but figure that’s pointless since I’m such a mess. My hair is tangled, and I can’t remember the last time I had a decent shower. Unzipping the tent, I make my way out to see Owen flipping something over in a skillet that smells delicious along with a few pieces of fish cooking over the fire.

  “Well, good morning. Rise and shine, sleepy head,” he greets me with wet hair, and he's completely shirtless.

  I look away, not wanting to be rude by staring.

  “Sorry, let me just grab a shirt. I went on a quick run this morning before fishing for breakfast.” He bends down to pick up a shirt laying a rock, and his torso flexes with thick muscle as he tugs it over his head.

  I’ve never seen a man like him before. Brave, strong, willing to do what it takes, even for a complete stranger.

  Part of me wants to dare to say he’s beautiful, but an admission like that scares me because then I’m admitting to myself that I’ve been intrigued by him.

  I don’t want to be intrigued.

  But maybe… I can have a friend? It’s been a long time since I’ve had any friends.

  “We are going to eat and then head to the Cliff House. You think you’re up for the hike, or do you need me to carry you?” he asks, turning the fish over the fire.

  “Um, I don’t have shoes, and my feet are killing me, but I can try to walk…” I try not to sound so pathetic, but my feet are cut up and raw from running so much. I don’t want to walk anymore.