Vengeance in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Did You Enjoy Vengeance in Bloom?
Jennifer Michael's Reading Group
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Michael
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: RBA Designs: Romantic Book Affairs, http://www.rbadesigns.com
Editor: Ashley Williams, Adept Edits
Proofreader and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1543119186
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Did You Enjoy Vengeance in Bloom?
Jennifer Michael's Reading Group
About the Author
Fifteen Hours Earlier
Paisley
I’m that girl people hate. I’m that girl I hate. I’m high on emotions and fantasy-worthy sex. His hands on my skin. The heat from his touch. The feeling of our bodies together. The electricity when he’s in the room . . .
I’m a lovesick dope, high on endorphins.
I never meant to fall for him. It wasn’t in the plan, but damn if I couldn’t help it. I’m in the middle of things I can’t stop, things I’ve no control over. No control over the way I feel about him and no control over the things in motion beyond us. I need to get my head screwed on straight. There is a bigger picture.
A dark cloud hovers over all of us. Yet, here I lie, in Burke’s bed, sore from his rough treatment this morning. The ache between my legs from the force with which he slammed inside me still throbs, and I wish he were still here with me. He’s not. Burke and Kai left a few minutes ago to go to a prison, and I’m doodling imaginary hearts inside the pages of my mind.
Teagan’s screams alert me to a change in the atmosphere. My bubble in this bed bursts into pieces as the sound of footsteps echoes and bounces off the walls. The grunts of men here to inflict harm pierce my ears. The fear in Teagan’s voice is heartbreaking and even more so when sound from her ceases. I scramble from the bed and debate my next move. Clothes would be an obvious choice, but my brain function is a bit muddled. My movements are shaky as I try to pull myself together. This is not the time to fall apart. I pull on my jeans and T-shirt, which I’m pretty sure is inside out but I don’t care. I grab my shoes and shove my feet into them, completely forgoing my socks.
My phone.
I need to find it. I’m frantic as I spin in small circles. My eyes bounce between the room and the door, which is still closed.
Where the hell is it?
I need to call the police or Burke or someone. Fuck, I left it downstairs last night. I strain to hear and try to place where the intruders are in the house. Do I barricade myself in? What about Teagan? Whoever is in the house did something to her. Hurt her. I can’t abandon her.
Inhale.
My shaking hands reach for the door.
Exhale.
My fingers twist hesitantly around the knob.
Everything goes dark as I slam my eyes closed.
Crashing and banging ring throughout the home and fry my nerves.
I force my eyes wide open and pull the door open.
I expected to be greeted by assailants, people here to hurt me, but the hallway outside Burke’s room appears to be empty. They are here. I can hear them, but they aren’t outside the door. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, as I know they could be around any corner. As quietly as I can, not wanting them to find me, I race toward Teagan’s room. I need to find her. We need to survive this together.
Grunts and masculine laughter follow each crash from downstairs.
Why haven’t they come to find me yet?
Teagan’s door is wide open, and I know they’ve already got her. Her room has been demolished; no fixture is left in its place. Panic erupts inside me. I need my phone. I need a weapon. I need to somehow find Teagan and get the hell out of this house.
“Your friend cried when I came for her. Will you cry? I like it when they cry.”
The voice is way too close. Too low. Too . . . excited by the possibility of hurting me. The heavy scent of body odor and cheap cologne hits my nose. It pollutes my lungs, and I can taste it on my tongue. I turn and am faced with the worst-case scenario. A large man blocks my only exit; perspiration runs down his face. He sneers at me and vulgarly grabs himself. He inches closer. My instincts beg me to flee, but I have nowhere to go.
“That’s it, baby. I love to see the fear in your eyes. Fuck, it’s sexy.”
“Where’s Teagan?”
“That one made my dick hard as steel. I need to release some of the energy I worked up, listening to her desperate cries and weeping pleas. Are you a fighter, baby? I like it when they fight.”
This isn’t happening.
The man continues toward me.
This isn’t happening.
I should run.
I need to try.
He undoes the button on his jeans.
My feet won’t move.
Paralyzed by fear.
This isn’t happening.
He exposes himself without bothering to rid himself of his pants.
This isn’t happening.
He stops just before m
e and strokes himself while licking his lips.
This isn’t fucking happening.
With his free hand, he lunges and grips me by my neck. My feet leave the floor as he holds me up against the wall, cutting off my breathing. Tears race down my face as I gasp for air.
No, no, no! This isn’t happening.
I kick wildly. My feet make contact with him, but it does little to help. I slow down and try to take better aim. With one swift, hard kick, I nail him in the balls, but it barely affects him. If anything, it spurs him on. He licks the side of my face, like he actually liked being nailed in his junk.
“That’s it, you filthy slut. Fight me! Fight against me.”
He presses against my stomach, and I shudder.
This isn’t happening.
But it is. With one of his hands around my neck and the other ripping and tearing at the button and zipper on my jeans, I know it’s going to happen.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes closed. Wishing I were bigger, meaner, stronger.
Wanting to make him stop.
BANG!
Warmth splashes against my face, my hair, my clothes.
The vile hands that were pawing at me go slack right before dead weight brings me down with force. A man’s voice mumbles angry swears, but I can’t focus as I open my eyes. The man who was getting off on my fear is now covering my body. Half of his head has been blown off. I can feel his dick against my leg. The insides of his head ooze onto my shirt. I push against his dead weight and attempt to get out from under him.
“Take care of the body, and get the girl to the car. No one hurt her. Follow my fucking orders.”
I don’t look to see who is talking, but he must be in charge. Men in masks approach me, and I’m still half-trapped under the brute. It doesn’t matter. I scream and thrash and attempt to fight them off. Hands hold me down while they shove the body off me. I attempt to break free. One of the men looks over his shoulder and then back at me. His eyes are cold behind the black cotton of his mask, and I know whatever happens next won’t be good for me.
“A little bump never hurt anybody.” He grabs my face between his palms and swiftly cracks my head against the floor.
Everything goes dark.
Flowers. It’s always fucking flowers. I never thought I’d be in a room, staring at this mural, in the full-blown daylight of reality, but here I am. This is real. The room is completely different with wood walls and the rotting floor, but the picture before me is exactly the same. Every last flower. Every single petal. They stare back at me in jest. This isn’t one of my nightmares. I’m not asleep. The angry red pinch marks on my arm prove it.
The dried blood of the man who tried to rape me still coats my skin. Torturous screams echo in my ears. I’ve been in here for hours, and it’s starting to mess with my head. I don’t know if Teagan is even still screaming. It could just be my own mind playing tricks on me. What I do know is that I’m glad the locked door hasn’t opened.
How did I get involved in all this? I am a girl who reads books and stays home, but I was just freaking kidnapped. Sure, I dreamed of adventure but never thought I’d end up here.
I raise my hand to the back of my head and flinch. The welt there won’t quit throbbing. I turn away from the door and back to the flowers. The welt on my head and the agonizing crying that keep me company lead me to believe my fate may be damned.
In the meantime, I have nothing to do but study the colors on the wall in front of me while I try to drown out the screams, which I’ve decided are absolutely real and are becoming more hoarse and strangled with each passing minute. I stare at the colors for so long that they seem to blend together. These flowers won’t disappear from my view, and it gives me the chance to better study them, hoping something will be made clear.
The door to the room slowly opens, creaking from time without use. I take a step back in fear, but when I see who comes in, I push out a deep breath of relief. I’m going to get out of here. I take a step forward, but all my hopes fall away when she closes the door, and her nostrils flare.
“Well, at least you aren’t tied to a chair.”
My stomach twists, and hot, angry tears prick my eyes. I want to cry out in frustration at how blind I have been. The money. The hostility. Her trying to keep me away from Burke. How did I miss it? Each clue I missed.
Braelyn stands in the doorway with an arch to her eyebrow and a squint to her eyes. Not a strand of her red hair is out of place. Her hands sit on her hips, and every inch of her radiates with attitude. I’m at a loss for words while she looks around the room I’ve been kept in these last few hours.
“Do you regret not listening to me?”
No, a million times over, I don’t regret not listening to her bullshit warnings. If anything, I regret all these years I’ve spent by her side.
“What is this? What’re you up to?” My voice is cautious but full of hurt.
I have never been certain of Braelyn’s feelings for me, but I never would have guessed she’d intentionally put me in harm’s way.
“Those are questions you don’t need to worry about. I’m here to see you one last time before I go. I’m here to say good-bye.”
She shifts and leans back against the door, resting one foot over the other. She’s casual. Carefree. I hate her for it.
“What do you mean, I don’t need to worry about it? Men came and took me by force today! I was almost raped! I say almost because that guy is dead. The people who kidnapped me killed him, Braelyn. Then, some psycho knocked me out, and they brought me here and locked me in a room. Yet you’re here to say good-bye? What does that even mean? How could you do this to me? Did I ever mean anything to you?”
She pushes away from the door, coming closer to me, as I rise to my feet. I have no clue what her intentions are, but I don’t plan to be caught off guard again today, especially not by her.
“Don’t act like I didn’t warn you, and don’t play the victim. You’re good at turning things around on everyone else. I’m doing what I’ve always done—what’s best for me. If you hadn’t fucked things up, you could have come along for the ride. I couldn’t save you now even if I tried. It’s his decision, what happens to you.”
I crack my knuckles in a nervous fit and eye the door. The sounds coming from outside this room tell me that, even if I kick Braelyn’s ass and escape this room, I won’t make it out of the house. Someone else is here to stop me, but damn would it feel good to throw a few punches at the heartless girl who stands before me.
“We grew up together, Braelyn! I’m your sister. How . . . how can you just stand there and do nothing to help me? Who the fuck are you, and who’s this he deciding my fate?”
Braelyn’s eyes sweep the mural, and a look of confusion passes over her face before she quickly pushes it aside.
“We’re not sisters, Paisley. We never were. Did I want you to get hurt from this? No, I didn’t, but you wouldn’t listen. You have to deal with that decision on your own. I have a new life to live. One that doesn’t include living in some shitty apartment with you on the white-trash side of town. As for the man I referenced, I’m a little disappointed you can’t figure this one out on your own.”
She pauses for dramatic effect, or maybe she’s trying to torment me. I don’t know. Either way, it’s obvious she’s enjoying this power. Her black heart makes me sick. It’s nauseating, how much she loves this moment. She’s actually gloating, toying with me and loving being the villain.
“Burke will decide what to do with you. I’ve been working for him and Kai all along.”
I laugh a little at her ridiculous claim. That spark in her eyes is brighter than I’ve ever seen before.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Brae, and you and I both know it. His business has been messed with, his house damaged, and I’m pretty sure we know those screams are Teagan’s. Even if I know nothing else about him, I know he cares about Teagan more than anything else in the world. If he were planning something, it
wouldn’t involve her getting hurt.”
She shrugs her shoulders and continues her pointless rambling, “Listen, I don’t know how this game ends. All I know is, Kai has been paying me for a lot more than our bedroom activities. I don’t know what they have planned. I just know what I was paid to do. I tried to keep you away from this, but you wouldn’t lis—”
“I’m done listening. Can we get to the part where you say good-bye and leave?”
“You know, that smart mouth of yours has always been my least favorite thing about you. I won’t miss having it around. Good luck, Paisley. For your sake, I hope they kill you quickly and don’t put you through what’s happening to Teagan.”
Braelyn leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. I want to launch myself after her and pull her back in here with me, so I can make good on my need to hit her. The only thing stopping me is whoever is outside these walls. The last thing I want is to draw the attention of someone capable of making Teagan scream that badly. I check the doorknob, but it’s locked. I slump back into the corner and go back to staring at the flowers on the wall. The stupid, colorful flowers.
I replay the conversation with Braelyn over and over in my head. I analyze her words and try to make sense out of them. She’s a con, and her morals are questionable, but never in a million years did I think she’d sell me out in this way. I wonder how much she got paid to do this to me.
Her words about Burke and Kai were another attempt to throw one last jab. I would like to believe that, since it is her fault I am doomed to whatever cruel fate awaits me here, she would have shown a little mercy. Instead, she offered no truth and invented stories to mess with my head. Bravo to her because, left alone, the scrutiny manifests and takes hold of my thoughts.
I play the What If? game for hours, and doubt creeps into my consciousness. I have to cling to one truth. The only thing I have. Burke would never hurt Teagan. I’m positive of that. I repeat this truth inside my head over and over again until the words blend together with Teagan’s screams.
Fuck, I don’t know what the truth is.
Paisley
The time spent alone does nothing to ease my fears. Eventually, Teagan falls silent, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t want the silence to mean she’s no longer breathing.