Wicked (Dangerous Liaisons Book 1)

by Ashlyn Mathews

  “They never married. The license expired. Ryker, you need to let this one go. She’s nothing but trouble. A complication you don’t need. Your dad bragged the scouts will be at your game tomorrow. This is your time to shine, son. You’ve worked hard for this. Your dad, your mom, they’ll be proud of you, kid.”

  That’s the thing. My parents are already proud of my accomplishments. There’s no need to prove anything to them. But I have everything to prove to the girl who owes me some goddamn answers.

  29

  Harper

  “You don’t have to do this. Please, Sam.”

  I blink against the light shining in my eyes. Struggle to prop myself onto my hands and knees. Smooth metal cuts into my wrists. Plastic binds dig into my ankles.

  Needing to see Shephard, I slowly crawl away from the spotlight and closer to the chair set close to the wall, where Sam and his friends are hidden in the shadows.

  My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. The thick fog clears from my head. A large body lies at Sam’s feet. Still. Bound by ties and handcuffs, too.

  I focus my attention on Shephard’s chest. Exhale in relief when I see the unmistakable rise and fall of his chest, though the movements are shallow.

  I was finishing a text to Ryker, when we were attacked, my place going dark the moment Shephard turned to deliver the news. Mike called. Sam was released from prison three days ago. Something to do with overcrowding.

  The message to contact him with any change in Sam’s release date was lost in the scramble. Mike’s warning came too late.

  Sam and his friends broke down the front door with guns drawn. We were forced on our knees. They yanked sacks over our heads. Shot us up with sedatives. The drug didn’t take long to get into my system.

  There was a sudden weightlessness, followed by my body weighed down by deep exhaustion. I was hefted over a wide shoulder. Dumped onto something cold. The rumble of an engine. Moving. Moving. Oh, God, where are they taking us?

  Bile rises in my throat. Bound. Helpless. Waking up in darkness until he shined that blasted spotlight on me. I struggle against the handcuffs and the plastic ties.

  The sparring and running until my joints ached and my muscles burned, none of that will help me now. Even if my place were protected with an alarm system or I had an overprotective Shephard at my side twenty-four seven, we were never destined to win this war of wills and dark desires. Sam would somehow find a way to get to me.

  Clenching my jaw, I crawl to Shephard. I won’t give up hope we can still come out of this alive. I glance over my shoulder. The front door is a few feet away.

  “The bastard’s not coming, love. I made sure of that.”

  My body jolts with panic. “What did you do? If you hurt Ryker, I’ll . . . I’ll—”

  “You’ll what, Harper? What more can you do to hurt me?”

  He’s right. I hurt him, and he’ll continue to hurt me until I’m nothing but submissive and turned inside out for my betrayal of his trust.

  I get off my hands and knees and adjust my body until I’m on my butt, facing him with my knees up and my cuffed hands resting on my knees. Looking into the darkness, I repeat my question.

  “I sent him a video. He’ll think it’s you and my big brother going at it.”

  “Shephard and I never had sex,” I ground out. “Ryker is the only guy I’ve been with.”

  Deep, masculine laughter.

  “He won’t believe that after seeing and hearing what I sent.”

  His hand reaches out. Thick fingers slide in my hair and yank. Tears burn the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to give Sam the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

  “The only guy you’ve been with. That guy should’ve been me.” Deathly soft, his tone. “I should’ve claimed what was mine. Do you know why I didn’t?”

  He rises from the chair and pulls me with him, his grip on my hair unrelenting.

  “Shephard.”

  “Fucking Shephard.”

  His laughter echoes off the walls, the space empty except for the chair and the spotlight.

  “I respected my big brother. Continued to believe his free will to choose who he fucked was stripped from him by a manipulative girl.”

  He steps over Shephard and takes me back to the spotlight, dragging me by my hair.

  “You’re as wicked as they come, Harper. Tempting me with hair dark as night. Eyes as blue as the ocean waves. Wicked, your coy smile. Your teasing. You’re as wicked as they come, and I will crush your soul until you squeal your come.”

  My knees slide along the filthy carpet. Something wet and gooey clings to my skin. Revulsion wracks my body, my imagination running wild over what it could be. He pushes me down. I land on my side. He gets down on his haunches, shielding me from the force of the spotlight. Sam studies me beneath eyes hooded, and I stare back.

  With his dark hair cut close to his skull, the coarse stubble on his face, and the intensity of his eyes, as well as his tall and muscular build, there’s no denying Samuel Taylor is a good-looking guy.

  Or that he’s related to Shephard. Same sharp facial bone structure. Identical glacier-blue eyes. Prominent nose. Wide mouth.

  But the hardness in his gaze when he looks at me, really looks at me with eyes wide open rather than hooded, speaks of an unspeakable hell on earth during his time in prison. He confirms my suspicions with his next words.

  “You sent your dad after me, didn’t you? Demanded he and his men give me a lesson in what real pain feels like. Do to me what I did to you? Except they did more than penetrate my mouth.”

  My stomach roiling, I shut my eyes. He yanks on my hair, forcing me to open them. To see him. To acknowledge his pain and his humiliation of being violated in a way he never did to me.

  “I did no such thing,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “I put in a request that my dad or you be moved to a different prison. My father . . . He is his own man, Sam. I could never demand he do something different when he’s made up his mind.”

  “Otherwise, you would’ve demanded he let your mother go. Is that it, Harper?”

  Sam and I spent a lot of time speaking of our parents and their messed-up lives.

  “Yes.”

  Had I not been staring so hard at his face, I would have missed the fleeting softening of his expression before he remembered why we’re in this shithole with me half-naked and bound and his brother unconscious on the floor.

  Soon, he’ll have me on my knees and a gun pointed at my temple as he and his friends take turns violating my mouth. Shephard trained me to fight using my hands. Trained me to run away from danger as fast and for as long as I can until I’m safe.

  What I’m not prepared for is to be half-naked, bound . . . helpless. Yet, there’s fight in me. I need to get back to Ryker. To tell him the truth. That I would never cheat on him. Not after knowing what he went through with the girl who broke his heart, his high school sweetheart who fell in love with an older guy.

  I won’t let Ryker believe history is repeating itself. Yes, I care for Shephard, can say I love him. But the love I feel for Ryker is different. He says I’m different. That he wants my different. I’m ready. Ready to be that person for him.

  To do that, I need to let go of the past. Everything about me with Ryker circles back to my messed-up past, and I’m tired of it.

  “Aren’t you tired of all this?” My chin tips up a notch. Slices the air as I shake my head. “You did the time, Sam. Give our past a rest. Start your life over again.”

  Please.

  “Please, Sam.”

  He’s quiet. The quiet before the storm. A growl rumbles from him. He stands, and grabbing me by the shoulders, he pushes me onto my hands and knees. Not like this. Oh, God, not like this.

  “You are mine, Harper. Every piece and part of you. Don’t you understand? We finish this. We close the circle that is you, me, and my fucking traitorous brother.”

  “He didn’t know. Not at first. Please. Let him go. He sacrificed enough, pr
otecting me over the years.”

  Protecting me from Sam. From my inner demons. Sam laughs, and the sound is full of bitterness.

  “Do you know why I spared your father’s life for five long years only to take it away with the snap of my fingers five weeks ago?”

  I don’t say a word. Don’t acknowledge what I suspected—Shephard going home again was the catalyst for my father’s murder. Sam will tell me anyway. He enjoys having the upper hand on his ex-cop, ex-special forces older brother.

  Shadows move across the windows. It could be the leaves fluttering in the wind. Or something entirely different. I refocus on what Sam is saying, but in the back of my mind, I prep for a rescue.

  “Shephard paid me a visit. Said he was close to proposing to you. He made the trip to make a deal. Leave you alone, forget revenge, and he’ll hand over everything. His life’s savings worth millions. The gym. What a fucking idiot.”

  He laughs again.

  “Then he had the nerve to stab that invisible knife deeper in my gut. Confessed the two of you went and got a marriage license to celebrate my being locked up. Said it was your idea. I had enough after that.”

  “You ordered my father’s murder out of anger? How could you?”

  “Easy.” He grips my arms. Hauls me over his shoulder. Drops me onto the metal chair. “It was easy to snuff out your father’s life. Earned me more respect on the outside.”

  “If it’s money you’re after, I inherited money from my father.” The father he killed. “My uncle too.” The uncle his friend murdered. “It’s not much, but it’s something. Just let us go.”

  “You think it’s money I want?”

  He crosses his arms. Stares a hole between my eyes. At my sides, his friends snicker.

  “I don’t need your money, Harper. My operation will be worth billions. Maddox is dead. I ordered the hit. A hostile takeover is happening as we speak.”

  I suck in a breath. “You’re taking over Maddox’s business?”

  He smirks. “Is that what you’re calling it now? I remember hearing you say other words like ‘illegal’ and ‘not right.’ You gonna snitch on me again, Harper? Be an informant for Detective Pete Greene?”

  He finally speaks the words. Levels me with the accusations only two people—Shephard and my uncle—knew of.

  I can’t use my fists to save my life. There’s no way I can escape when my ankles are bound. But I can listen to Ryker’s advice. It was at the cemetery. The words said in front of my dead parents and uncle.

  “The past is done and over with, Harper. It’s harsh, but accept what happened and move on. Your past defines you, no doubt. Made you the strong-as-fuck girl you are, inside and out. Made you the girl I’m falling hard for. But don’t let your past hold you back from living in the moment. Forgive who you once were. We all make mistakes.”

  “I’m sorry for what I did, Sam. Sorry I played mind games. Sorry for using your feelings for me to get close to Shephard. Sorry for going behind your back. I forgive you and our friends for what you and they did. I forgive you for my father’s murder.”

  Memories come rushing at me. My tears fall. His body stills.

  “What Shephard said is true. We applied for a marriage license. I was so angry, Sam. You told me you’d protect me. Said you loved me. I believed you. Then you . . . You took me. Did horrible things. And I hated you for going back on your word. Of all the promises you had to break and the person you did it to, it had to be me.”

  I lift my chin. Lock my eyes on his. Blink at the tears so I can see him clearly.

  “What I’m not sorry for is you being my first love. Don’t take by force something I’m willing to give you freely. Let Shephard go. Promise me you won’t hurt Ryker. Give me your word and I’ll leave with you now.”

  “You’ll never run away?”

  “Never.”

  “You’ll be mine?”

  “The future Mrs. Taylor.”

  “Done.”

  30

  Harper

  Hope blossoms in my chest, but I don’t drop my guard. Sam isn’t to be trusted. Ever.

  He undoes the cuffs. Pulls a knife from his back pocket and cuts off the plastic ties. He signals for the guys to leave us alone. They do. He shuts off the spotlight. Large arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me against a rock-solid body. The outline of his erection pulses thick against my back.

  “Say the words. The ones your father wrote to your mother.”

  His breath is warm on my neck. His fingers demanding and searching as he slips his hand inside my panties.

  “Say the words that will bind us from now and forever, Harper.”

  He strokes me. I resist the urge to shove his hand away.

  “You are mine. I am yours. Run and I will come after you. Fight and I will hold you tight until the fight dies from you breath by breath. Love another and your world will go out with a bang.”

  “Or how about once bitten, twice shy?”

  The barrel of a gun is shoved against my temple.

  “Fuck your apologies. Fuck your forgiveness. I don’t need any of it.”

  I start crying. Shaking. He pulls his hand out of my panties and slings his arm across my stomach, holding me tighter against the front of his body.

  “Close your eyes, Harper.”

  Close my eyes? What for? To hide my shame and humiliation at his hands? What I did for the past five years, refusing to let anyone get close enough to discover the truth of my kidnapping and rape?

  I’m done with hiding. Of running away from a past that I can’t change. I want to end this. Do what he’s demanding we all do—close the circle and give everyone involved closure.

  “No.” I curl my fingers. Dig my nails into my palm.

  “No?”

  “Let me see you. I want to see your face one last time before I die.”

  He spins me around, the gun he’s holding temporarily pointing down and away from my temple. I act on instinct. My knee slams into his groin. He doubles over. I jam the heel of my palm on the underside of his jaw. His head snaps back. I knock him off his feet. He lands on his stomach. I go for the gun. The door bursts open. Blinding lights in my eyes.

  Shit, I’m too late.

  “Hands in the air. Now.”

  Pete. It’s Pete. Smiling in relief, I stick my hands in the air. Many bodies rush by me except for one. He steps forward. I meet him halfway. Ryker pulls me into his arms, and I’m safe.

  “Babe. Fuck. Shit.”

  “Hey, big guy, watch the language.” I laugh. Cry.

  “Are you okay?” He runs his hands up and down my body. “Of course you’re not okay.” He takes off his jacket and covers up my half-nakedness. “I’m sorry, Harper. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to rally the troops.”

  I laugh some more, my body screaming with exhaustion. “The troops?”

  “Pete and your other law enforcement friends. I told them of my suspicions. Wanted to go in full board as soon as I realized where he took you and Shephard.”

  “You remembered what I told you.”

  That if Sam ever took me again, he’d take me to a place that would remind me of the first time. My hand cradles his face. Trembling fingers stroke his beard. He is such a smart guy.

  “I listen to everything you tell me, sweetheart. Listened to Shephard too.”

  That Sam and his friends will play dirty and do everything possible to destroy what Ryker and I have.

  “And I damn well listened to Pete’s voice of reason. He said he and his men needed to case the joint first, then act. But it looks like you set the acting part in motion when those punk friends of his left and walked right into the line of fire.”

  There’s commotion around us. Sam is led out in handcuffs. The medics wheel their gurney past us. Shephard.

  We hurry to him. He’s grabbing at his head. A whirl of activity as the medics shine a penlight in his eyes, ask him questions, start an IV in his arm before placing him on the gurney.

&nb
sp; “Harper.” He reaches for me.

  I hold his hand.

  “I’m sorry, love.”

  “For what?” I tremble. My teeth chatter. The shock of it all is catching up to me. Ryker anchors me against his side.

  One of the medics step toward me. I shake my head. “I’m okay.”

  “I failed you.”

  “You didn’t. What you taught me in the ring paid off.”

  His skin is pale. A sheet of sweat lines his forehead. And there’s a dark stain on his shirt, over his side. How did I miss the bloodstain?

  The medics notice where I’m looking. They become stoic. “Ma’am, we should get him checked out.”

  Underlying urgency in the medic’s voice.

  I plant a kiss on Shephard’s hand.

  “We’ll be by to check on you.”

  Shephard’s not done with us.

  “Harper is my best friend. Break my girl’s heart and I’ll break every bone in your body. You got that, Conway?”

  “I hear you, man. We’ll see you soon, Shephard.”

  They wheel him out. I lean into Ryker’s body for support. Glance up at him as he looks down at me. Life isn’t simple. Living is hard. So is talking about what hurts us.

  I owe Ryker the truth, all of it, and not whatever snippets he heard through the broken windowpanes or from the private investigator he hired.

  He has to understand all of me to willingly choose whether to stay or go.

  The war of wills and dark desires is over. What I have left is the most important part of my life for the moment.

  Love.

  And I’m playing to win.

  31

  Ryker

  After she showers, we take spots on opposite ends of the couch. I hand her a pack of frozen peas for her swollen wrists. Eye the reddened skin of her ankles. Gnash my teeth at what that bastard did to her.

  Unable to keep my distance, needing her as near me as possible, I scoot closer, reach for her ankles, and stretch out her legs over my lap.