Hunter (Revenge & Legacy Book 1)

by M. C. Cerny

  “I want you to remember Elizabeth, this is the church your life began in, and it will be the one it ends in, if you so much as disappoint me today.” I wasn’t religious, but I knew a zealot when I saw one.

  “I understand, Adam.” My mouth dried up looking down at the thin platinum band with blue stones resting permanently on my left ring finger. The metal stayed cold, never fully warming to my body temperature. It suffocated me from within even years later. He threatened to cut my finger off, the day I put it on. I’m surprised it hadn’t rotted on its own, wearing his ring, his brand. The tiny cuts had scarred over as the years worn the stones down, but it didn’t matter. Nothing protected me from him.

  “See that you do.” I watched his eyes dip down the lace covered décolletage of my dress. I looked like an obscene American socialite trying to be something I wasn’t honed from generations of peddled bullshit tradition. In reality, I was nothing more than the spawn of a poor broken half-Brazilian, and Irish potato farmer, illegal immigrants, and drug addicts from the ditches of the Ironbound. I was as close to being royal as a rat from the gutter. Adam reminded me of that sitting high on his throne of his corrupt kingdom.

  “The wedding will start soon. You should go wait with Father Morely.” I took a breath to steady myself, but it was pointless as his eyes feasted over me. If that was what restrained desire looked like, then he was starved and rabid.

  “And then we’ll get to the honeymoon.” Adam’s hands slowly caressed my arms covered in sheer lace while his lips kissed below my ear with a strange tenderness that only fueled my anxiety further. His evil should have turned my pale skin black, with the oily ooze I felt from his tainted touch. Instead, the traitorous mirror reflected flushed cheeks and dilated eyes.

  Hate blossomed in my core.

  “I’m looking f-forward to it.” I said with as much enthusiasm as a hopeless terrified shelter animal on their way toward a lethal injection.

  “Perhaps we should start early.” He goaded arching his eyebrow suggestively.

  Psycho. Psycho. Psycho.

  Panic flared through me and my eyes bugged, there was no hiding that reaction from him, and to my surprise he laughed. Adam Huntley, the biggest asshole I knew on the planet laughed a deep belly chuckle throwing his head back in a maniacal gesture.

  “With a kiss, Elizabeth.” He chuffed at my shock and stupidity playing with my emotions. “There will be plenty of time later to drive my point home how much you belong to me.” Grabbing me, he hugged me tight stealing my breath and crushing my lace.

  Adam fixed the tousled curls of my hair, his hands cupping my face as he touched his lips to mine. The kiss was chaste all things considered, and his hands roamed freely molding me to him. It felt different, as if he’d reigned himself in for the moment, and simply wanted a kiss. Though, his kisses, as I would come to learn, were anything but simple. He demanded. He ruled. He conquered. I reached for his suit lapels pulling him closer so as not to lose my footing in the heels I wore. The mix of moods was like a sweet and sour cocktail. Nice one moment, but the bite was coming. He pulled away first and rubbed the pad of his thumb over my lips fixing the smudge of lipstick. Adam was uncanny at leaving my axis of reality off kilter and my body responding in ways I didn’t expect.

  “Be good.” He laced his words with those demands, rules, and conquering smirks.

  I listened for the door to close and my heart to resume beating. Being good was the only thing I knew. I trained for it like an Olympic athlete, even if I felt like I was failing at that.

  2

  Elizabeth

  I wasn’t totally stupid. I knew what Adam meant, but his crudeness hurt all the same. Adam was a special kind of crazy and playing the game made you just as insane as he was, even on his good days, separated by hundreds of miles and a body of water. I reminded myself that I did this to keep what family I did have safe.

  He pulled me closer in his arms in an obscene hold meant to look sweet and reassuring from the outside should anyone unsuspecting walk in. Even with my heels and quaking legs, I wasn’t tall next to my husband to be. Meeting him likely stunted my growth that day in the hospital. The scars on my feet were still there, the tissue painful in these fancy shoes, but that was trivial to what Adam could do to me if I wasn’t careful.

  His hands went back around my skinny neck pulling my face up to his. “My beautiful sweet girl.” He breathed out with satisfaction and rubbed his calloused fingers over my icy cheeks. “You have no idea what you mean to me.” His words were nothing and I pushed them far down in the recesses of my mind. His kind words could quickly turn against me into serrated wounds left to fester. That was the twisted understanding I had of relationships–of anything touched by Adam.

  “Everything I’ve given you, will give you is new. I don’t buy that bullshit of something borrowed, or old. We’re better than that.” He fingered the large diamond pendant that rested on top of my breastbone hanging from a chain of pearls. Heavy, expensive and choking me with its weight. He was crazy. A psychotic wannabe mobster, an arms dealer who killed people for the thrill of it, who might kill me if he knew my every waking thought, was consumed with escaping him.

  “You are mine, Elizabeth, from the moment we collided that day on the rooftop. I knew my greatest challenge would be clipping your wings, and now I’ve done it.” His lips were firm against mine. My chest heaved heavy strangling breaths as his hands tangled in my coiffed hair. My hair would be a bitch to fix, but better than a torn dress at a banquet dinner.

  My fingers inched up to touch him, calm him if I could.

  What did they call it?

  Managing expectations.

  “Maybe I’ll fuck you until you’re plump with my seed?” I swallowed the knot of bile back down my throat. The best thing that could happen was that I never got pregnant.

  Barren would be perfect.

  Adam Huntley wasn’t done tormenting me.

  “Maybe I’ll tie your legs together to make sure it takes root, and maybe if you’re good, I won’t take the brat away.” The gasp from my shock was all he needed to slip his tongue inside my mouth and turn a thing of beauty into something ugly, dark, and heavy suffocating me from within. His kiss lingered like a slow burning poison, and I surrendered.

  He pecked my lips.

  “Maybe I’ll let Derrick fuck you if I can peel him away from his pretty little wife. My seed does seem to be mentally corrupt as you say.” I swayed faint. I didn’t think I’d let myself live if he did that. How Derrick was still alive confounded me. His number two was a colossal fuck up. The only good thing he did was hire some Russian guy I didn’t know very well to take his place.

  Adam chuckled curling a loose lock of hair behind the shell of my ear. “I’ll be sure to pass on your horror of the idea to him, darling.”

  My reaction made him laugh out loud before he finished the kiss, happy with my lack of response or enthusiasm. “Remember your promise.” He wiped the corner of my mouth with his fingertip smearing my already mussed lipstick.

  I forced my face to crack a smile, “How could I forget, husband.”

  Adam returned the gesture sweeping me up into his embrace. How could I forget my promise? Foolish words from a teenage girl with no experience with men. Just like Eddie said. I knew nothing then and I still knew nothing now, four years later, armed with even less defenses to protect myself.

  “That’s my girl.” His hand trailed down my back and the dress I once thought pretty seemed like another heavy shackle that I would drag behind me down to the alter in a few short minutes. After all my fancy history lessons, was this, how French prisoners felt walking toward the guillotine? Completely helpless, punished for their birthright. Resigned to their fate? I should have paid more attention to my classes. Learned something useful.

  Adam continued his conversation solo.

  “So many buttons. Will I pull until they pop one by one, or will I take my time, I wonder?” He spoke as if I weren’t there while his hand
traced a circle around each precious jewel.

  “Adam, please.” If he didn’t rein in his need to terrorize me, I wouldn’t make it down the aisle. He shushed me instead, as if a beast could calm anything when it was too hungry to care, salivating over which morsel to destroy first.

  “You’re going to love our island. I have so many plans for us.”

  I didn’t know anything about this island except my bags had already been packed full with bathing suits and lingerie only fit for strippers.

  I stared into the mirror numbly.

  “Wonderful.” I muttered.

  Adam rubbed his groin against me, his body a wall of hard muscle. The ridge in his tuxedo pants made me fear the pending evening. A tongue slipping between unsuspecting lips was nothing compared to being speared by his member callously for the sole purpose of ownership–and they said chivalry was dead. He probably charged for the common decency of holding a door open while he punctured my heart with his javelin of lies. Chivalry never existed as far as I was concerned.

  “I hope those dancing lessons paid off.” The change in topics gave me whiplash as he pretended to dance with me, his hips moving against mine to imaginary music. His song must have been much more upbeat than mine, because my movements were slow and jerky compared to his fluid ones that spun us around the room in a dizzy set pace.

  “Thank you for letting me take them.” I thought about how my one and only male teacher, Monsieur Carole would chastise me for every misstep I took. He smacked my thighs and arms with rulers when I tripped over my clumsy toes. If he only knew how coerced those lessons in ballroom dancing were. Adam would never be a classy gentleman; he was a despicable human with a huge bank account and baseless vendettas. Monsieur Carole had been there one semester and then he was gone. I didn’t ask, but I suspected.

  Adam Huntley was proprietary about the toys he broke.

  “So polite. So perfect.” He hugged me close. “I’m glad you enjoyed them. Tonight, will be the recital of your life, my darling wife. Make me proud.” He kissed my cheek.

  My head shook in agreement because I’d been well trained to follow his lead and every order that came with it. “I will, Adam.” If I was ever a suicidal person, this would have been the day to follow through. End it. Clean slate and all that. It’s like he knew my thoughts were heading in that direction when he spun me around again toward the vanity table. He picked up the brush. I flinched thinking he would hit me with it for good measure.

  He smiled.

  “Don’t be stupid, Elizabeth. Your punishment comes later, though you haven’t done anything grievous to warrant one.” The unspoken yet was there. He took the silver backed brush examining it while rubbing the handle methodically. I didn’t want to know what other depraved things he would do with a hairbrush. Before I exhaled, he threw it with enough force shattering the glass, distorting our faces. I guess neither of us liked what looked back as us filled with lies. I wasn’t even sure I’d outlive the seven years bad luck.

  “Adam.”

  He held me, unrelenting in letting go.

  I dropped my defenses and he loosened his grip.

  The knock at the door jarred us from the cracked reflection of the mirror. Amazing how it was still pretty, reflecting our jagged faces in a gilded window facing an alternate universe. I wondered what fallen angel or hell I might see looking back at me through the distortion. There was only, my husband.

  A cleared throat sounded.

  “Hey, hope I’m not interrupting.” The door cracked open, and there stood the one thing, I was holding out for, my brother and Fiona peeking around the door.

  “Eddie!” Shouting for my brother, Adam dropped his hold, his expression a mask for the fury that lurked beneath. I ran to the door hugging my brother tight. I wanted to hide behind his new body of military made muscles, but to let him know what was happening here would endanger him. Muscles were no match against deception and weapons, something Adam taught me early.

  “Whoa, you need to get yourself to the alter before there’s bad luck, Mr. Huntley. Can’t have you messing up pretty Lizzie’s hair, it’s a wild mess to tame as it is.” Fiona kissed my cheek, tugging a lock of the dark hair. She grabbed Adam by the arm carting him out of the room. Adam eyed me as Fiona led him about. If he had wanted to say something else to me, he would have, which meant I was sure to be reprimanded for Fiona’s behavior later. My almost sister-in-law had no idea what bad luck was, and it came in the form of one controlling, green eyed, soon-to-be husband.

  Adam glared over his shoulder reluctantly leaving me alone with Eddie. Fiona dragged him out, and like a good puppy he followed. I swallowed back my hesitation to stop her with a fake smile. I hadn’t seen my brother in over a year due to his military service and the logistical challenges presented by trying to visit me on a remote island out of state. I didn’t care what Adam thought. Eddie was finally here, and this would be okay, I prayed it would be okay. Nothing renewed a seasonal Catholic like a crisis, and seeing as how I had been living as one for the last several years, I called in every holy favor I felt was due.

  If Jesus hadn’t heard my prayers by now, what was a little more added to the confessional?

  I could at least make sure Father Morely was kept busy.

  “Lizzie, are you alright?” I pulled back from his embrace and looked him over. To tell the truth would kill him, and I learned a lot about the strength of a well-placed lie.

  Sniffling a smile, I looked over my big brother, so handsome in his dress uniform.

  “I’m okay. We’re good. I’ve just missed you both.”

  Okay was a relative term in the Huntley world. Okay meant you had food to eat to physically sustain you, but not enough to maintain your soul. It had been a year since we last saw each other and I swore he packed on another fifty pounds of muscle.

  “Elizabeth.” He growled.

  I grabbed his hand squeezing it. “I am. He makes me happy.” I bit my lip to keep from saying more. My lip smarted at the sting of pressure. I was careful not to bite clean through.

  “Cause, if he doesn’t…” I placed my shaking fingertips over his mouth.

  “Stop. This is my happy day. Be happy for me, Eduardo. Please.” I pleaded with him masking the lies behind my made-up face using his birth name. It made me feel a little grown-up pulling rank on him. “Pretty soon you’ll have Fi dragging you down the aisle.”

  I adjusted the collar of his dress uniform the way a mother might do, if we’d had a real one. My fingers needed something to occupy them or shake uncontrollably. Eddie was handsome in his uniform and Fi was lucky. I envied true love.

  “Not sure I’m ready for that just yet.”

  Cupping his face, I rubbed the reddish dirt from his cheeks. Ever since his first deployment the stuff clung to his skin like clay marring his good looks. It never seemed to wash off, just like the faint stank of his uniform, the closer I got him. The closer reality closed in on us both.

  “How does Fi get this shit off you?” I snickered. If Adam could change on a dime, I could too.

  “Magic.” He chuckled and we rested our foreheads together affectionately. My only true remaining family left.

  I leaned back and said, “Eddie, it’ll be good for you to be settled with Fi. Safe in a house, somewhere nice and out of the city.”

  “You sound like you’re not proud to have come from here.”

  By here, if he meant Newark, I had mixed feelings on the subject.

  “That’s not it at all. I just want better for you two.” I wanted better for all of us besides scraping out an existence. It wasn’t the place I objected too; it was the path we’d been on before I fucked everything up. Adam merely sped things along.

  “Like Hoboken?” He joked.

  That had been the dream for so long.

  “Sure, a high rise with a view of Lady Liberty.” I shrugged.

  His fist gently clipped my chin.

  “And I want the best for my little sister.”

&
nbsp; A mansion to live in. A driver. Plenty of designer shoes to pinch my toes. I had all that in spades. Just like my sacrifices got Eddie’s career fast tracked and Fiona’s schooling paid off with a special scholarship called the rest of my life. There was no point in mentioning those things.

  Sad, I changed the topic again. “How does Fi like medical school?”

  “She loves it. I swear she’d offer me up to science if she could.” We snickered, and in that moment, I knew, I made the right decision. They’d be safe and okay, and that mattered more to me than anything else. They were all I had in this world. They were my people even if Adam had become our gatekeeper.

  Eddie turned me to the mirror’s broken and cracked glass distorting our view. “He’s changed you Liz. Look at you, all grown up now.” His assessing scan was hard to escape even in the fragmented shards.

  Turning back, I clutched his shoulders, “Promise me, you’ll take Fi from here and make a good life.”

  He nodded.

  “Of course, Liz.”

  “No Eddie. Promise me. Swear it. Get some little house in the suburbs and raise a ton of kids.” I demanded of him.

  “I will, but you better promise me too.”

  I let him go stepping back, twirling around in my dress.

  “We all change. This is for the better, I swear.” Crossing my fingers in the folds of my dress, I lied. He waited taking in the dress and the pomp of it all, until he finally gave me his arm to take.

  “This was only supposed to be temporary. I was supposed to make this right,” he said.

  “We’ll make the best of it, I promise.” I would make the best of it, by making sure Adam never had a reason to go back on his word.

  “We never made it to Hoboken, did we?” He sighed sadly.

  “Eh, it was an overpriced shit place anyway.” I joked.

  There were a lot of things we’d never do now. Adam had kept me holed up in a posh hotel with Petre dogging my Jimmy Choo heels every step I took the last two weeks. He made me learn how a bird lived inside her gilded cage. Doubtful, I’d get anywhere on my own again.