by M. K. Gilher
Remedy (Return to Us Trilogy Book Three) © 2016 by M.K. Gilher.
Cover design © 2016 by Louisa Maggio of LM Creations.
Cover image © 2016 by Jeff DeHaven of DeHaven Digital Photography.
Edited by Angel Edits
Proofread by Wendy Wuttke of Pretty in Pink Proofreading
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author and publisher.
Warning: This is an erotic novel containing explicit sexual content and graphic violence. It is intended for adults and is not suitable for readers under eighteen.
ISBN: 9781535320511
Digital ISBN: 9781370637294
Published by Angel Press
First Edition August 2016
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my faithful street team gals and all the readers that have reached out and offered their love and support. Also, to my friends and family who consistently encourage and stand by me, come what may. I hope this conclusion to the trilogy is everything you've longed for and so much more… like a Jacade sundae covered in gooey whipped cream and lots of salty nuts.
Playlist
"Confident" by Demi Lovato
"Dangerous Woman" by Ariana Grande
"Flesh" by Simon Curtis
"Good For You" by Sofia Karlberg
"The Moment" by Kenny G
"Only Girl (In The World)" by Alex Goot, Boyce Avenue
"Piece By Piece" by Kelly Clarkson
"Right Hand Man" by Joan Osborne
"Skin" by Rihanna
"Shut Up And Dance" by Walk the Moon
"Snuff" by Slipknot
"Take Me Home Tonight" by Eddie Money
"Take Me To Church" by Hozier
Listen to the REMEDY Playlist on Spotify
Prologue
Eighteen years ago
Jacade
Bang!
My fist produces a rewarding tremor on the one-way mirror.
On the opposite side of the glass, the hot-as-fuck brunette stills and her eyes widen, searching for the source of the noise.
Her mouth drops open. The fingernail she was chewing presses into her plump lower lip. She can't see me, but her innocent, green eyes brand my soul. Even through the thick glass, we connect.
How did I get so lucky to cross paths with my dream girl tonight? Her honeyed skin stands out in striking juxtaposition with the sterile, institutional environment. She's a brilliant firebird being held captive in a cold, white-walled cell.
I want to kiss away the black tears staining her cheeks. If only I could hold her in my arms and tell her everything's going to be all right. She lowers her head and walks away from me, continuing her nervous pacing of the interrogation room. Her serpentine hair sweeps down her back and ends at—whoa, boy—the most bodacious backside I've ever seen. Oh, yeah. I gotta get my hands on that ass.
On her next pass toward me, she wraps her arms around her middle, raising her huge tits up. Hey, girl. Take off your hoodie. Let me see your titties. Push them together, and I'll—
"She's off-limits." An obnoxious male voice abrades my ears and rips me from my titty-fuck fantasy.
"Huh?" My attention snaps back to the old man standing next to me in the observation room of the police station.
"Tell your dick to settle down, son."
I glance over my shoulder and catch him watching my hand rework my jeans across my snug crotch.
"Stop staring at my junk," I snap back. Fuckin' perv. "Who the fuck are you? A cop?"
"No. A friend of Jude's."
"He sent you to bail me out?"
He hands me a crisp, white-linen business card with embossed black and gold writing.
Heldman, huh? A doctor.
"Let me talk to her." I scrunch my fingertips to the glass and watch the girl circle the interrogation room again. He needs to let me in there.
Heldman laughs in my ear. "Yeah, right."
"Why not?"
"Come on, kid. You were arrested together. The cops won't let you two collaborate after the fact."
"What's her name?"
"You let her drive your dad's car without getting her name? Nice. Ready to tell me what really took place tonight?"
"None of your damn business." Like I'd tell him she didn't see me sleeping in the backseat when she hot-wired my stepfather's Mustang—which I'd already stolen.
"Why did you switch places with her when the cop pulled you over? Why would you take the heat for a girl you don't even know?"
I press my lips together and focus on her. Definitely not telling him that.
"Anyway, her name doesn't matter to you. Hands off." He crosses his arms over his chest and widens his stance.
"You can't fucking tell me what to do."
He crowds me and squints, staring me down. "She's beyond your scope," he hisses. "You're a punk that got pinched stealing his stepdad's Stang. Slick move, Ace. Going to jail really impresses the ladies."
You're a trailer trash delinquent. My stepdad Leo's omnipresent voice chimes in.
"The guy they picked up driving the Corvette is her boyfriend. You have nothing to offer her but more grief."
What kind of guy has his girlfriend steal cars for him? The boyfriend is a douche. Someone should teach him how to treat his girl right.
I move my face closer to the glass, my forearm above my head. She peers at the mirror again—straight into my eyes. She feels me here like I feel her. Physical barriers can't separate us.
"You're wrong. I would be good to her. Money isn't everything."
"Isn't it? You'll want to take her out to dinner, put a decent ring on her finger. How much money you got in your pocket?"
I squeeze my eyes shut. All I have is the forty bucks I got for Leo's watch at the pawnshop.
You're gonna end up dead or rotting in prison. You're a loser at life like your mother. A wasted soul with shit for brains.
I press my palms to my temples and push as hard as I can. Get the fuck out of my head, Leo.
"Future looks pretty bleak for you, doesn't it?" His voice softens as he places his hand on my shoulder. "Life can change on a dime, son. With the right opportunity, you can crawl out of the depths to overcome and prosper." He steps closer. The stench of booze wafting off him reminds me of Leo. "I have an offer for you. You'll have to work and sacrifice for it. In time, you'll be the kind of man she needs."
"A man like you? I'll pass." I shrug his hand off my shoulder.
His brow furrows. "Think of it like an apprenticeship. I'll back you. Train you. Support you through college. Be the family you never had but always wanted. You'll have women finer than her licking your cock like a lollipop, begging to be tied up and whipped. All I ask is your loyalty."
What the fuck? He talks like a demented Mafioso.
"What kind of loyalty?"
"Fight. Kill. Steal. Anything I tell you to do, you do it. No questions asked."
Shit.
"Interesting how your brother was in a similar spot a few years back. He accepted my proposal, and now Jude's excelling at Chi U, probably will go on to medical school. You could be a physician too, or a lawyer—anything you want. The two of you together would make one helluva of a team, commanders of men, wielding powerful orders."
"Bullshit." I'm not falling for it. Jude told me he was at Chicago University on a wrestling scholarship. He wouldn't accept this wanker's pitch. He could be some eldritch sugar daddy wanting to shackle me to his radiator.
"Let's go." He grips my bicep and guides me down a hallway to a holdi
ng cell in central booking. He unplugs a security camera hanging from the ceiling before turning to me to examine my face.
"Your decision affects her future too. You have the power to free her right now. Accept, and I'll start rolling out the benefits early. I'll pull strings to get her released as if none of this ever happened. Decline, and you both get booked and processed tonight for grand theft auto."
No way. She's not going to jail with low-life thugs. She needs to get gone and forget about tonight.
"How are your grades?"
"Good."
"And your record? Clean? No fights?"
I stare at my feet. He's got my number. Lots of fighting and truancy on my record.
"Well you can always go to a tech college, be a mechanic or something."
I can't even pay for trade school. It's the streets or prison for me.
"I can get you into any college you want. All your expenses covered and then some. You'll live like a king."
Maybe I should entertain his cockamamie offer. Jude wouldn't have sent Heldman to help me if he didn't trust him. Might not be so bad to have someone on my side, even if he's a shady geezer. This could be my golden ticket.
"So? What'll it be? You both leave from here, or we start the paperwork and you have a long night?"
Screw Leo and my drug-addict mother. I'm done trying to help her. I'm not staying here a second longer.
"If I agree, what happens to the girl?"
"She'll wait here for her boyfriend to post bail. She lives with him. If you agree to join my team, you must promise to leave her alone. Don't contact her at all, you hear me? Forget about her. Plenty of fuckable women out there."
"No. I only want her."
"If you still want her when you finish school, I'll connect you with her."
"What if I contact her now?"
"That would cause a lot of pain. For both of you. I'll pull my support. All money I've given to you becomes due in full—immediately."
We stare at each other, neither one of us blinking.
"Do we have a deal?"
I give him a resigned nod as my yes. He's right. I have nothing to offer her. We can't stay in the double-wide with Leo and Carolyn. She has a boyfriend anyway. At least with this Viktor assclown, it sounds like she'll be taken care of. I'll do anything to get the fuck out of this hellhole.
"Welcome to my crew. Call me tomorrow. You're free to go as soon the clerk brings you your possessions."
Heldman turns to leave and says, "You made the right decision, son," as he's walking away.
The click of the steel door shutting behind him seals the final nail in my coffin.
"I'm not your son. Never will be."
I stalk around the cell like a caged animal.
Don't contact her, you hear me?
I stop to bang my head into the far wall.
"Argh!" I can't believe I gave her up.
For now.
The pain in my forehead has me grimacing when the door creaks open again. The doorjamb shadows Heldman's face. He speaks in a hushed voice.
"Ivy," he mutters. "Her name is Ivy."
He ducks his head and leaves again.
Ivy.
It suits her. Her hair curls and grips like Ivy. Her eyes are a deep mat of mottled greens, and she has a strong, natural beauty.
My Ivy.
Beautiful.
Chapter 1
Present day
Jacade
Slam!
Delia plows straight through Viktor's rusted wrought iron entry gate. It bends over the hood, screeching and sparking against the road. In my side mirror, the image of a guard running after me with his gun drawn diminishes out of range.
I swerve to the left and jerk the car to the right. The gate unhinges and lands in the ditch. A hostile flash of vertical light cracks on the horizon followed by a gut-roiling savage thunder.
The rain mixes with the bloody print on the screen of Viktor's phone.
Her blood. On my hands. Again.
No, not now. Focus.
The map shows I'm thirty miles from Lakeshore. There's another hospital closer, but I want Jett.
"Talk."
"Jett. Lakeshore. It's…" My tone falters. "Ivy. It's Ivy. 911. I'm fifteen minutes out."
"Got it." Female voices titter in the background.
"You?" A dinging alerts me he's climbing behind the wheel.
"I'm good."
"Morgue entrance. No ER."
The phone falls from my hand and thumps on the floor by my feet. The downpour pelts my hair and face, and I squint into the deluge to find the ramp to the interstate.
Delia fishtails into the emergency entrance ten minutes later. Ivy's body leaves a red sun of rain on the seat. A warm burst of air hits my soaked face as I carry her through the automatic double doors. A staff of jarred second-shift nurses stare with bulging eyes at the gruesome sight of Ivy's limp, bloody figure in my arms. I charge past their shaken stares and carry her into the clinical area of the emergency room.
"You can't go in there, sir."
The hell I can't.
Two nurses follow me down the hallway and into the first open exam room.
"Sir!"
I lay Ivy's body down on the gurney. "Prep her for surgery!" I raise my arm and point at Ivy. "Move it! Do your damn job!" We only have minutes, people.
Rivers of dirt and blood course down the drain as I wash my hands in the sink. Christ. Scrubbing in is going to take forever.
"Everyone out!" Jett's voice roars through the room. "Leta, get in here!"
I scour my skin, but the red won't come off.
I don't look up as I speak to Jett. "Thirty-eight caliber GSW to anterior left lower quadrant. No exit wound. Moderate blood loss."
"Jude, did you need…" a female voice asks.
"GSW protocol. Page Dr. Kelch." Jett speaks to her. "And make sure no one calls this in."
"Dr. Kelch left hours ago. Dr. Thomas is the surgeon on-call tonight." She bustles around the room.
I need to keep scrubbing.
"Get Kelch here now, Leta!" Jett puts his hand on my shoulder. "This isn't the morgue entrance, Trip."
I don't give a shit, Jett. "Don't touch me." I shrug him off. "I wasn't taking her there."
"You need to leave." He tugs on my elbow.
"Fuck off!" I pull my arm from his grasp.
"You're too close to her. You know that. Go sit down. Once I have her stable, I'll check on you."
"I'm staying."
He pushes my chest.
I grimace and yell, "Get off me, fuckbag!" as I knock his hands away.
My right fist leaves a filthy wet mark on his shirt. His face hardens and I rush him. We grapple and push, but it hurts like hell. His back knocks into the gurney, and the nurse speaks up.
"Hey! This isn't the time!"
He works me into a clinch and says in my ear, "Give up, man. I taught you how to fight, jackass." I collapse onto him and suppress a sob. "No time to waste. I've got her, Trip." His voice is steadfast. "I'm the best at what I do. I've got her."
He releases me. I brace my arms on the sides of the sink, my head hanging low.
Please, Jett.
Save her.
***
Jacade
Squeak-squeak. Squeak-squeak.
The shoes I pilfered from Trey's corpse impart the only noise as I trudge through the deserted breezeway of Lakeshore Memorial. My shirt pulls tight on my shoulders as the streaks of rusted blood dry and stiffen. Pain stabs my foot with each step, but if I walk, I have purpose.
Three hours Ivy's been on the table in the OR. One hundred eighty minutes of fucking torment.
If she dies because of me… No. Not an option.
My steps falter. Damn it all to hell. I force myself to keep moving. I'm the fucking surgeon. I don't wait outside operating rooms. I should be in there.
"Do you need assistance?" a nurse stops to ask, but I wander past her.
I should call H
elen. What do I say? Ivy came to rescue me, and I'm strolling through the hospital while she's on an operating table fighting for breath. The same breath I forced into her lungs three years ago.
Helen's going to claw my skin off. I fucking deserve it. This is unjust. It's blasphemy to spare my damned soul in return for an angel's.
Goddamned Bernard caused all this shit. I clench and unclench my fists. Could it be true? Ivy is Raymond's granddaughter? I'll murder the old man for playing me all these years. He won't have the opportunity to sacrifice Ivy to get what he wants once he's six feet under. Retribution will be mine. I'll need to get Ivy's permission to kill her uncle.
Ivy.
Bleeding to death on a fucking metal table.
Fight, Ivy.
Come back to me.
"Dr. Jordan!"
I can't stop. My feet lumber over the one-foot-square tiles.
"Sir." Fingers grasp my bicep.
I spin and peg a man's hand to the thick windowpane.
Shane.
I huff out a sharp breath and release him. "Sorry."
"Any word on Ivy?" Shane flattens the tails of his rumpled dress shirt. Dark circles ring his eyes, but no visible injuries.
"No." I rub the back of my neck. "She's still in the OR with Jett."
"I take the blame for this. My phone wasn't secure. Bryn set Ivy in motion."
I close my eyes and wave my hand in the air. "Don't, Shane. None of this is your fault."
"I lost control of the vehicle in the alley and hit the wall. I took myself out." He lowers his head and shakes it. "I should've been guarding Ivy, not lying unconscious in a goddamn hospital bed."
I rest my hands on his shoulders, and he lifts his face. "You drove straight into heavy fire for me. Thank you." I drop my hands. "There were three of them against two of us. I was set up." By Kara, who is dead, and Carlos, who will be soon. "Nothing you could've done to prevent it."
"We had the location, but Ivy beat us to it." He shifts his feet and puts his hands in his pockets.
"I was sure if you survived, you'd be looking for me. Ivy went in reckless and didn't tell anyone. This shit is on me, not you. I chose this life. You are not responsible."