Ravage (Civil Corruption Book 4)

by Jessica Prince

  I had no choice but to agree, mainly because it was badass. “You’re right. Everything you’re saying is right. But this is gonna haunt you, baby.”

  “It’s not,” she argued determinedly.

  “It will. You might not think it now, but it will. It’ll give you more nightmares.”

  With a glare, she placed her palms in the center of my chest and pushed me to my back, throwing a knee over my hips so she could straddle me. “Stop it,” she snapped, pressing harder on my chest. “Stop making this worse than it is. I wasn’t scared because I knew down to my bones that I’d end this night right here in this bed with you. I gave him the power to hurt me once before, but I refused to allow him to do it again.”

  “But he did hurt you,” I stated, reaching up to brush against the bandage.

  “They’re superficial,” she insisted. “He didn’t hurt me here.” Taking my hand once more, she pressed it over her heart again. “Those wounds healed a long time ago. You saw to that. And in a matter of days, these will fade away into nothing.”

  Christ, this woman undid me. Her strength and courage were mesmerizing. “You really think it’s that easy?”

  “I know it is. Because I have you. As long as you’re with me, everything is that easy.”

  Tangling my fingers in her hair, I pulled her down until her lips brushed against mine as I murmured, “I love you, baby. More than life. You know that?”

  “I do,” she whispered back. “Because I love you just as much.” A sexy grin tugged at her lips before she said, “Now why don’t we see if I can wear you out enough to take the bad thoughts away?”

  Then she went about doing exactly that, and by the time she was done, I barely had enough strength to lift my head, let alone hold on to the bad thoughts.

  Oh yeah, I thought as sleep finally started tugging at my senses. My girl’s perfect in every single way.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Lyla

  Three months later

  I’d healed physically.

  Mace had healed emotionally and mentally.

  We were whole, and absolutely freaking perfect. Life was spectacular. Every morning I woke up with Mace was better than the one before, and considering my strong disdain for mornings, that was really saying something.

  The nightmares were gone. The wounds on the surface and beneath were completely gone and we were moving on.

  I think it helped both of us tremendously that Daniel saw serious jail time for aggravated kidnapping and assault, battery, grand theft auto, assault with a deadly weapon, and a whole litany of other charges that came thanks to his stupidity that night. Needless to say—but worth it anyway—Daniel Logan was never going to be a problem again. And after this last and final blow to their reputation at the hands of their son, Mommy and Daddy Logan weren’t feeling too generous. They refused to scrape together even a penny for his defense, and let him rot with a public defender that was fresh out of law school and didn’t know his ass from his elbow.

  The Logans were done. Ruined. With Daniel in jail, the elder two packed up and moved to parts unknown, and no one was sad to see them go. We were all too happy to move on like they never existed.

  Time went on and Mace and I fell back into our comfortable routine, only now, without anything hanging over our heads, it was even better than before. The black hole in my chest that had been prominent since the loss of Will finally began to shrink until it became nothing more than a distant memory. I would always miss my brother. I’d remember him every day for the rest of my life, but I’d do it grateful to have had such an amazing brother for as long as I did.

  It got easier, learning to live without him, Mace saw to that. And I finally reached the point where I could go to the storage unit and go through his things. My parents joined Mace and I in that task, and we spent the better part of a weekend clearing it out, going through everything and separating it into things to donate and things we wanted to keep for ourselves.

  We were three quarters of the way through when I stumbled on a box I hadn’t thought about in ages. I hadn’t looked at it since the day I buried it up on a shelf of m closet. It went through every move with me, but only as an item that was stuffed into a bigger box and eventually tucked away somewhere else, forgotten once again.

  My chest squeezed at the sight of it, and my hands trembled as I pulled the lid off and looked inside. It was all there, everything I’d packed away, perfectly preserved all these years later.

  “What’s that?” Mace asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist as he stared into the shoebox over my shoulder.

  “It’s you,” I answered on a whisper.

  “Huh?”

  With a smile, I picked up the box and turned, forcing him to lower his arms so he could see. “It’s you. It’s everything you ever gave me. I kept it all.”

  He looked back down, lifting a hand and began rummaging through the tattered shoebox. Snack sized chip bags, candy bars, that tiny frame with the picture of our whole crew, even the beautiful leather bound journal. It was all there. My heart sored.

  He picked up the picture frame, his face slowly stretching into a smile as he looked at the photo inside. I remembered it clear as day. Will was standing in the middle of Garrett and Killian, their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders as they hammed it up for the camera. Declan was to the far left standing with Tate in front of him, his arms around her waist the same way Mace had just been holding me seconds ago, both of them beaming. Mace was at the right end… with me. But it was the way he was holding onto me that made the photograph so special. Both his arms were locked around my shoulders, pinning me against his side, and I was hugging his stomach. I was staring at the camera with the biggest grin on my face. But he was looking down at me with a soft, beautiful smile on his face.

  “Christ,” he grunted, his ocean eyes brimming with emotion as he studied the picture closely. “Jesus Christ. Look at you, Goldie. So goddamn beautiful. Even back then I knew what I was holding in my arms.”

  “I’m taking that box home,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “And that picture’s going on my bedside table. I want it to be the second to last thing I see every night for the rest of my life.”

  “What’s the last thing you wanna see?” he asked, turning his gaze from the frame to me.

  “You,” I answered honestly. “I want you to be the last thing I see before I fall asleep every night.”

  He dropped the pewter frame back into the box and grabbed me, banding his arms around me. “You already know I’ll give you anything you want, baby.”

  “I’m counting on it,” I replied with a huge grin, pushing up on my tiptoes to press a kiss against his lips.

  “Think you two can go more than five seconds without gropin’ so we can get this done?”

  At my dad’s grumble, we both turned his way and laughed as Mom smacked him upside his head.

  “Shut it, Jon. Can’t you see they’re having a moment?”

  “Yeah, and that moment’s gonna give me a hernia if I’m forced to move this desk by myself. Get your ass over here, son. Let’s empty this thing out so we can load it up.”

  The desk, along with several other pieces, were going into the back of a big moving truck set for a women’s shelter on the other side of town. They’d been in desperate need of new furniture, and the woman on the phone had been beside herself with joy when I called to inquire about their needs. I was glad my big brother’s stuff was going somewhere where it was needed, and he would too. Will was just that kind of guy.

  “Better get over there before your dad skins me alive,” Mace muttered before leaning in to give me one last kiss.

  Once he and Dad descended on the desk, I closed up my shoebox, held it tight to my chest, and carried it back to Mace’s car so I could tuck it in carefully to take the trip back to Seattle with us.

  It amazed me how much life had changed since the last time I saw it. When I packed it up I was young and heartbro
ken, convinced I’d never have what I truly wanted. And now… well, now I’d like nothing more than to go back in time and tell that girl to hold on, that her time was coming, and it was so totally going to be worth the wait.

  “Love you, big bro,” I whispered toward the heavens. “Always and forever.”

  Then I shut the car door and got back to work.

  Mace

  The bottom drawer of the old desk was a bitch to get open. It was like the damn thing was sealed shut with superglue. Jon had headed to his car for a crowbar to pry the sucker open, but I wasn’t giving up. Placing my boot in the center, I gave the drawer one last firm kick, finally shaking it loose.

  “About damn time,” I mumbled to myself as I bent and yanked it open. What I saw sitting on top stopped me in my tracks. I blinked, my heart rate kicking up at the sight of my name scrawled across the front of a white envelope. I’d know that handwriting anywhere. It was the same shitty handwriting I’d had to learn to read back in high school in order to copy off Will’s tests in Algebra and History.

  Holding my breath, I reached into the drawer and plucked the envelope out. The back flap hadn’t been sealed, and I quickly flipped it over and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

  When I unfolded it and saw it was a letter from my best friend addressed to me, all the air expelled from my lungs.

  Brother,

  Bet you’re wondering why I’m writing you a letter like a chick instead of just calling your ass and saying what needs to be said.

  Well, the truth is, this is a love letter, and I feel that putting my feelings for you down on paper would be easier than admitting them to you out loud...

  HA! I’m just fucking with you! But admit it, I had you going there for a second, didn’t I? Dude, I’d love to see your face right about now. Bet you look freaked as all hell.

  I paused to laugh at Will’s typical twisted sense of humor. Christ, I missed him.

  The real truth is, I have a lot of shit I need to say to you, and trying to get your ass on the phone while sober is damn near impossible.

  First off: Get your head outta your ass, man. You’re drinking yourself to death, wasting the gift God saw fit to bestow on you by wrecking your body and mind. It’s time this shit stops. I know you, man. You’re better than this. Don’t make me drive to Seattle and kick your ass straight, because you know I will.

  Second—and pay attention, bro, because this is the most important part: MAKE A MOVE ON LYLA, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! If you’ve been waiting for a written invitation to go after my baby sister, consider this it. I know you have it twisted in your head that you aren’t good enough for her, but let me set you straight. You’re dead wrong, man. There’s no one, NO ONE, on this planet better for my Ly than you. She’s crazy about you, brother. Has been all her life, and I know you feel the same. Go for it. Make a move. If not for her, then for you, because I can promise you’ll never have a better, stronger, more protective and loving woman than her.

  You take that chance and I know to my bones she’ll make you happy for the rest of your life, and that’s all I ever wanted for you, Mace. You deserve it, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. So. Go. For. It.

  I guess that’s all I got for now. This letter writing shit’s actually pretty cool. Maybe I’ll take it up regular. Now let’s see if I actually get off my ass in order to buy stamps and mail it, huh?

  Anyway, until the next one.

  Your buddy,

  Will

  I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time I read that letter until my lungs began to burn, desperate for oxygen.

  I pulled in a necessary lungful of air and squeezed my eyes shut as I sent a silent prayer to the heavens.

  Thank you, brother. I promise, I won’t let you down.

  “Everything all right?”

  I folded the paper and stuffed it back into the envelope, tucking the letter into my back pocket as I turned and smiled at my woman, the love of my life.

  “Everything’s perfect, baby.” I leaned down to give Lyla another kiss then got back to work.

  Epilogue

  Lyla

  One year later

  “I do.”

  As I said those two words, the most important words I’d ever spoken in my life, the sea breeze blew off the water, whipping my flowy dress around my bare feet and sending my messy curls swaying.

  The minister continued speaking, but I was too wrapped up in my man’s stunning eyes, eyes the very same color as the beautiful water only feet away, to notice.

  Then Mace said two of the most beautiful words I’d ever heard, second only to when he told me he loved me. “I do.”

  A few seconds later it was done. The minister announced us man and wife, and as my husband pulled me into his arms and laid a kiss on me that made my knees quake, the salty breeze disappeared. In it’s wake was the scent of soap and motor oil, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my brother was there with us, watching as the two people he loved most in the world tied themselves together for eternity.

  And he was happy.

  Always and forever.

  Three years later

  “Why?” Gwen lamented loudly at the heavens. “Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

  Gina, Tate, Corrine, and I all burst into laughter at our friend’s misery, none of us feeling all that sorry for her. After all, Garrett had only mentioned wanting another baby. It had been Gwen who jumped all over the suggestion. Then a month later she was knocked up with baby number three.

  “At least this time you’re not alone,” Gina offered, patting her itty-bitty baby bump.

  Gwen shot her an evil glare. “Don’t talk to me,” she grumbled. “You can barely tell you’re pregnant, while I’m growing a baby elephant in my uterus.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud, since pregnancy hormones were making Gwen all kinds of crazy lately.

  “Well, all I know is I’m done,” Corrine muttered, holding her little boy to her chest as he slept soundly. “I gave birth to a ten-pound, seven-ounce giant. There’s no coming back from something like that. Never again. Mark my words.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” Tate said with a giggle. “All Ian’s gotta do is give you that look and you’ll be pregnant again.”

  I looked across Gwen and Garrett’s huge living room at where Liddy was playing with her little brother, Gabe, and Tate and Declan’s daughter, Katrina. On the outside, they looked like three well-behaved kiddos, but I knew the truth. They were too quiet, so they were up to something, and it was just a matter of time before we discovered what that something was.

  While my girls tried to outdo each other on who had the toughest pregnancy, I sat in Gwen’s glider, rocking my little bundle while giving him his bottle. Little Will was four months old today, and every one of those four months had been a blessing.

  “Look at her,” Gina said, the smile in her voice forcing my attention to my friends. “Have you ever seen a woman as blissed out as our girl Lyla there?”

  Gwen grinned. “Never.”

  “It’s a great look on her,” Tate replied.

  “Someone got laid this morning, that’s for sure,” Corrine added, making everyone burst into laughter.

  “Mommy, look!” At the sound of Liddy’s voice, we all turned in that direction. “Me and Kat gave bubby a haircut! Doesn’t it look awesome?”

  Sure enough, both girls were holding a pair of child-safe scissors, and poor Gabe looked like someone had cut his hair with a weed whacker.

  “Sweet merciful hell,” she gasped, then bellowed, “Garrett! Come get your hoodlums before I lose it!”

  It sounded like a herd of buffalo coming up the stairs from Garrett’s basement studio where the guys had been locked up most of the day working on a new album.

  “You summoned?” Garrett quipped as he and the rest of the guys rounded into the living room.

  “Yeah. Why don’t you have a look at what yours and Declan’s daughters did to
my poor baby boy’s hair?”

  Garrett looked across the room at his son and barely managed to conceal his wince. “Ah hell.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” Killian slapped him on the back and rounded the couch, moving to the chair his wife was sitting in. He lifted her, plopping down in her seat and pulling her into his lap before placing his hands firmly on her belly, holding mother and child in the only way he could until their little bundle finally joined the world. “We’ll say it’s the latest trend or something. Give it a week and all the other kids in his daycare will have the same raggedy cut.”

  Gwen scowled and muttered, “Not helping,” as Garrett jumped over the couch and curled up beside her, hooking his arm over her shoulders. Declan kicked back on the love seat next to Tate, the two of them snuggled together in blissful happiness.

  I’d let my eyes travel through every one of my friends, my heart filling to the brim with love for this ragtag group, when a gentle touch on my shoulder pulled my attention away. “You doin’ okay, Goldie?”

  I lifted my head and gave my husband a smile. “I’m doing absolutely great,” I replied with complete honesty.

  He touched the soft, downy hair on Will’s head. “And how’s our little guy?”

  Looking down at my son, a sense of completion washed over me just as it did every time I stared at him. “He’s perfect.”

  He finished his bottle just then, and I pulled the nipple from his mouth and sat it on the table beside my chair.

  “Here, let me take him.” Mace reached over the couch and scooped our boy into his arms. “Hey there, my little man.”

  God, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how sexy my guy looked with our little baby in his arms. It was my favorite sight in all the world. It even topped how hot he was when he came. There was nothing better than the look on his face when he gazed at our son.