Imprisoned Match [Ménage.com 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “I’m smarter than this,” Anna whispered, even though she swiped her finger until the pointer was hovering over the yellow envelope. “I’ve come this far without making a mistake, and I’m not going to start now.”

  A longing hit her out of nowhere—a need to be a normal woman, satisfying everyday urges. She’d never had a typical life, at least not after she’d turned eighteen. The decisions her older brother made had not only affected him but had taken the lives of their parents. Anna’s world had been destroyed, leaving her with two paths to take. The first route would take her to college, away from the loss and grief of the life she had known. The second route would lead her down a manipulative trail of vengeance, changing the innocent girl she was into a hardened woman. Crossing paths with the only person who knew firsthand what had truly happened to her family, Anna had chosen the only justified course and learned what she needed to in order to extract revenge. It wasn’t like her to ponder the what-ifs. So why was she sitting here, arguing with herself over a damn message that could never come to anything?

  “Shit.” Anna swiped the touch pad in irritation, and when the arrow touched the word that would make this all disappear, she clicked it quickly. A little box appeared, asking if she was sure she wanted to delete her profile.

  “Hell, yes,” Anna answered out loud, pressing the silver square to confirm. When her screen finally thanked her for trying their site, Anna was able to breathe normally. She pushed aside the pang of regret. She had unfinished business to attend to and didn’t need anything to distract her.

  The ringing phone had her closing the laptop and placing it beside her on the couch. Hoping it was the call she’d been waiting for, Anna picked up her cell phone and looked at the lighted screen. If luck was on her side, she was about to walk the last mile of her journey. Whether that led to jail or death, she didn’t know.

  “Did you find him?” Anna asked, not bothering with a formal greeting.

  “Yes.”

  It was the answer she had been waiting for. Anna looked over at her end table, seeing the family portrait she’d placed there to remind her of her duty. Her father, so proud of his family, stood behind her mother with his hands on her shoulders. His Spanish heritage shined through his brown eyes and black hair. Her mother was smiling, and her red hair and porcelain skin were in direct contrast to her husband’s. Her brother had gotten their father’s looks, while she had taken after her mother. They were staring back at her, as if waiting for justice to be done. Anna wouldn’t let them down.

  “Carlos, I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “You forget, muñequita, Antonio was like a brother to me as well,” Carlos replied. “I’ve done all I can for you, though. If word got out that I was going against the Contractor, they’d come after my family.”

  “I would never put your family in danger, Carlos,” Anna said, meaning every word that came out of her mouth. She knew only too well the heartache and grief the Contractor caused if he thought he was being crossed. “Stay safe, mi amigo.”

  “Ve con Dios.”

  Chapter Two

  “Weren’t you supposed to have a date last weekend?”

  Elliott Braxton looked up to see Dakota walk through the door of his garage, his face smeared with grease. Figuring Dakota’s truck had finally reached the end of its life, Elliott had to bite back a smile. The entire town of Triple had a bet on how long the vehicle would last, since Dakota had had that piece of shit since high school. It looked as if luck was in Elliott’s favor, because if he wasn’t mistaken, he had this month listed on the wager sheet.

  Since Elliott and his brother, Mitch, owned the only garage in town, it stood to reason they would be the ones to keep the record of everyone’s pick. He would have to grab it out of the desk in back to confirm his win, but mentally, he was already rubbing his hands together in victory. Placing the black pen he had been writing with down on the counter, Elliott gave his full attention to Dakota.

  “We were supposed to, but the lady in question never replied to our message,” Elliott answered.

  “Your message,” Mitch growled, coming up behind the desk with his usual ill-mannered attitude. “I want nothing to do with that site.”

  “Ah, so you told him?” Dakota asked.

  Dakota was referring to the fact that Elliott had joined a ménage dating website, effectively including Mitch in that profile. Unfortunately, Mitch wasn’t as gung-ho about the prospect of meeting a woman as Elliott was. Having decided that it was time to get Mitch into the land of the living again, Elliott had done what he had to do. Dakota’s wife and her two friends were the ones who had created the site, offering the town of Triple another avenue for the men to find a woman interested in the lifestyle. Elise, Cyn, and Shea blew life into the old town, and people who lived the lifestyle were setting up permanent homes here. After unearthing someone whom Elliott thought would be a good match for the two of them, which was no easy feat, it had been a huge disappointment when she never bothered to reply to his invitation.

  “I had to tell him,” Elliott said, ignoring Mitch as he grabbed the paperwork for the next vehicle that was to be repaired. “I thought the woman would reply and we’d go out to dinner, see if we hit it off. Is there any way you or Elise could look into why her profile disappeared? When I checked for her answer a few days later, it was gone.”

  Dakota frowned. “That’s odd, unless she deleted it herself. But I can’t give you that kind of information, Elliott. It’s against the privacy policies the girls have in place. My suggestion would be to find another applicant you think you might like and send out another invite.”

  “Without me,” Mitch snarled, walking back toward the open area of the garage.

  “Are you sure he’s ready to meet someone?” Dakota asked, looking skeptical. “I mean, it’s only been a year since he’s been out of prison.”

  “And in that year, have you seen any improvement?” Elliott looked at his brother, feeling sympathy over what he had endured over the last eleven years. “He needs to start living again, Dakota. There are times that he’ll be in the garage until three in the morning, just to give himself something to do. There aren’t enough vehicles in Triple to keep him as busy as he wants to be, so I need to find him another hobby. Speaking of vehicles, I take it the old truck finally choked out her last breath?”

  “Shit, yes,” Dakota answered, shaking his head in dismay. “I thought for sure I’d get another year out of her. She’s about a quarter mile outside of town, toward the old schoolhouse. Can you guys tow her here? I’ll have Chad and Elise pick me up at the diner. I was going to meet them for lunch anyway.”

  “Sure. You want us to try and fix her, or are you ready to scrap her?” The look of horror that crossed Dakota’s face was too dramatic for Elliott not to laugh at. “Fine. Mitch will be happy for a challenge. At least it will give him something to do until I find another woman who is willing to have dinner with us.”

  “It takes time,” Dakota said. “Look at us. If Elise hadn’t come to town to promote the website, we’d still be looking for our perfect match. I think fate has a lot to do with it. When it’s your time to meet that special woman, you’ll know.”

  They said their good-byes, with Elliott promising to call Dakota when and if they had his truck fixed. Elliott grabbed the keys to the tow truck and headed out the back of the garage after informing Mitch that he was to keep an eye on the front desk. The chill of the air hit him immediately when he stepped outside. January in Triple could be pretty cold, and today was one of those days that Elliott wished he’d worn his jacket. Thinking of turning back and grabbing Mitch’s, Elliott shrugged and decided against it. He wouldn’t be out in the cold for long, and honestly, by the time he got Dakota’s truck hooked up, he’d be sweating anyway.

  Grabbing the handle of the door, Elliott yanked it open and then climbed inside the cab. Turning the engine over, he made sure the heat was on and then put the gear into drive. Slowly, he maneuvered the truck do
wn the back alley and made a left, which brought him to Main Street. Looking both ways, Elliott waited for Mrs. Wheelock and Mrs. Turner to cross the street before making a right that would lead him to where Dakota’s truck had broken down.

  Turning up the radio, Elliott settled back into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t sure what made him look over at the diner, but something caught his eye. Stopping at the stop sign, he scanned the customers. There, sitting at a table—it was her hair that must have nabbed his attention. The woman had beautiful hair, falling to her shoulders in a brilliant array of reds. It was a darker shade, and Elliott knew that some women would call it auburn. Whatever name might be associated with a color like that, he really didn’t care. Elliott just knew that he’d seen that shade before. It didn’t take him long to figure out it was from a picture a couple weeks ago.

  “Damn, she’s the woman I sent that message to,” Elliott said aloud, his voice ringing throughout the cab in astonishment.

  He watched as she stood up and turned, snagging the cream-colored jacket from her chair. What was her name again? Anna Valdez, that’s what it was. She was getting ready to leave the diner. Something told him that he couldn’t let her leave without meeting her, so he quickly made a right on Third Street, looking for a place where he could park the tow truck. Finding a place four spots down, Elliott swung the massive vehicle into place and hastily put it into park.

  Pushing the door open, Elliott swung down from the cab. Once his feet hit the pavement, he swiftly slammed the door and jogged to the corner. He looked through the window again, seeing if Anna was still putting her jacket on at the table. It was empty. By this time, Elliott had made it to the door. Yanking it open, he muttered an apology to Mr. Ottmeyer for almost running the old man, who was on his way out, over. Stepping inside, Elliott looked straight at the counter, expecting her to be there paying her bill.

  “Hey, Elliott,” Willow said. The waitress motioned for him to take a seat. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

  Elliott was already shaking his head. “I’m looking for someone. She was just in here. About five feet five inches, cream jacket, red hair?”

  “She just left. She—”

  Elliott didn’t give Willow time to finish her sentence. Turning, he hurried out the door, looking up and down the street. Mr. Ottmeyer was still crossing the road and Cooper Jackson was pulling out of his parking spot in front of the gun range. Anna was nowhere in sight. There was no way she could have left that quickly. Seeing no sign of her, Elliott started to scan the cars. Nothing.

  “Damn.”

  * * * *

  Anna fisted her hands inside of her jacket, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Carlos had supplied the name of the person she had been searching for, leading her back to the one town she should be staying away from. She never questioned how he got his information, but he always came through for her. Anna was aware of how difficult it must have been to find out the real identity of the Contractor. But now that she knew who it was, there was no way for her to avoid Triple, Arizona. The man had integrated himself into the town to the point where everyone thought of him as an upstanding citizen.

  Scoping out the layout of Triple was her mission for the day. Unfortunately, the minute she had stepped out of her vehicle, she’d caught sight of Cooper Jackson leaving his gun shop down near Second Street. Having no choice, Anna had ducked into the diner and taken a seat, making sure her back was facing the window. The only thing she had going for her was that her hair coloring was different. Was that enough to keep Cooper or his brother from recognizing her? They knew her as the untouchable, untraceable Anna Cruz. If she kept her distance, they would think she was any other redheaded woman.

  Anna stood inside the alleyway, making sure she didn’t take her eyes away from Main Street. Having to take out Sonny Jones earlier than she had wanted to had certainly put a wrench in her plan to bring down the last one responsible for taking the lives of her family. She needed to take time in order to strategize the upcoming downfall of one of Triple’s reputable citizens.

  This man was not going to be an easy target. She wouldn’t be able to use her usual contacts that aided her in these matters. They didn’t have access to a decent town like Triple, and if they were seen in this area, it would draw too much attention for her to do what needed to be done. Since the ATF had been there the night that she shot Sonny Jones, they obviously had her identity on file—at least, Anna Cruz’s profile and picture. If the lead agent in this area were to suspect that she was Anna Cruz, they’d take her into custody before she could finish what she started.

  “May I help you?”

  Anna startled at hearing a high-pitched voice coming from behind her. Damn, she knew better than to let someone sneak up on her. Anna closed her eyes for a brief second to gather her composure. Turning slowly, she saw a young woman with pale skin, although not in an unhealthy way—more of an I don’t have time to go out in the sun way. Her black hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, but a radiant smile lit up her face. The woman kind of reminded her of Sarah.

  “No, thank you,” Anna replied, turning sideways so that she could still see Main Street. Various excuses ran through her mind as to why she would be standing in an empty alleyway. Anna glanced at the woman’s uniform tag and saw that her name was Willow. “I wanted to surprise a friend of mine that I haven’t seen for a while.”

  “Oh, you must mean Elliott Braxton,” Willow said. “He just came in looking for you, but I’m pretty sure he already left. Sorry about that. I’m sure you can catch him at the garage.”

  Someone had been asking about her. By name? No one knew who she was. Maybe by description? Had the ATF got a lead on her that she wasn’t aware of? Should she ask the waitress, or would that just bring about more attention she didn’t want? Who the hell was Elliott Braxton anyway? Too many questions for Anna’s liking, so now was the time to cut and run. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten as much information as she wanted.

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Anna said with a fake smile. “You have a nice day.”

  Anna began to walk out of the alleyway, hoping beyond hope that neither Cooper nor Brody Jackson were walking around downtown Triple. She was relatively sure that Cooper had driven away. Keeping her head down, Anna made her way to the nondescript vehicle she had purchased years ago for the reconnaissance that always preceded this type of mission. She made sure her oversized sunglasses were secured in place on the bridge of her nose before reaching inside her jacket for her car keys. Anna fingered the key ring with her right hand until she had the button on the remote that would unlock the doors. Clicking it, she was close enough to hear the locks slide open, entreating her to enter the safe haven.

  “Oomph!”

  Anna stumbled back, having bumped into someone that had chosen the path between her car and the one next to hers. Papers flew out of the person’s hand and landed at their feet, luckily staying put since there was no wind on this cold day. They both leaned down to their knees, each of them picking up what papers they could.

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “No, no, please,” a beautiful voice sang out with a laugh, “I wasn’t looking either. Hope I didn’t hurt you. I always tend to carry too much stuff, but I’m too impatient to make two trips.”

  Anna swiped the last paper off the ground, realizing that it was a flyer. Seeing the title in big, bold black letters had her frozen in her tracks. It was the ménage dating website that Sarah had signed her up for. Anna didn’t care for coincidences, and so far, in the last couple of weeks, there had been too many occurring for her liking.

  “No harm done,” Anna replied, although her attention was on the flyer. At least, it was until she looked up into the eyes of the woman she had saved by shooting Sonny Jones. Chalk up another fluke, Anna thought wryly. She tried to tamp down the anxiety that was starting to bubble in her chest. Would this woman recognize her? Her sunglasses covered much of her fac
e and she had kept her hair down, hoping the color hid the slant of her cheekbones. The woman in front of her didn’t seem to be staring at her in horror, so maybe Anna would be able to extricate herself without giving anything away. She remembered one of the Jackson brothers calling her Cyn. Was she here to meet one of them? It was definitely time to leave Triple.

  “Do I know you?”

  Anna shook her head in answer, while placing the flyers she had collected on top of the box the woman was holding. She pushed her sunglasses higher up her nose. “No, I’m just passing through. I’m not from here, although it seems like a nice town. You have a nice day.”

  Turning, Anna was able to pull open her door, situate herself inside, and close it before the woman ever had a chance to say another word. Pretending not to notice that Cyn was still standing next to the car, Anna turned the key in the ignition. Hearing the engine turn over, she was grateful when the woman turned and walked to go stand on the sidewalk. Anna breathed a sigh of relief and backed out of the parking spot, putting the car into drive. It was time to head back home, consider her options, and regroup.

  Chapter Three

  Mitch stood just inside the doorway of the garage, cringing at the view in front of him. He knew he was too far away to yell out a warning to the beautiful woman that Mrs. Wheelock was about to back right into the driver’s rear side of her vehicle. The loud sound could be heard all the way down Main Street. Cyn had laid down what she had been carrying on the sidewalk and run to make sure that they were okay. How she ran in those stilettos was anyone’s guess. Mitch placed the rag that he had been wiping his hands on in his back pocket and started to jog across the street.

  He couldn’t say that the question of “What the hell am I thinking?” didn’t cross his mind, because it did. Mitch never got involved in other people’s business. Why he was doing so now, he didn’t know.