JACKSON

by Davis, Siobhan

  Table of Contents

  JACKSON

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  PROLOGUE

  PART I

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  PART II

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  RESURRECTION PROLOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BOOKS BY SIOBHAN DAVIS

  COPYRIGHT

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This is a dark romance only suitable for readers aged eighteen and older. Some scenes may be triggering.

  While you don’t need to read the previous books in this series, as this is a standalone romance featuring a new couple, it is highly recommended as there are spoilers in this book pertaining to the previous books.

  If you are following the series, this book overlaps, in parts, with Sweet Retribution and Charlie (timeline and some scenes.)

  PROLOGUE

  Vanessa

  A COLD BREEZE swirls against my bare legs, and the subtle whooshing of air tickles my eardrums, rousing me from sleep. Fingernails dig into my upper arm as I’m dragged out of bed. My eyes blink open as fear, thick and cloying, presses down on my chest. “Get off!” I rasp while swatting at his chest and wriggling in his hold.

  He tosses my ass on the carpeted floor like trash. “You have ten minutes to pack your things and get the fuck out of my house,” Aaron Breen demands, hovering over me like a dark, shadowy, menacing creature from hell. It wouldn’t surprise me to discover my stepfather shares DNA with the devil himself, because there is little that is human about the man.

  Faint light trickles through the uncovered window, confirming it’s still early out. I’d retreated to my bedroom the instant I returned from The Hamptons last night, crawling into bed in my cutoffs and tank, allowing myself to succumb to the pain of Cam’s and Sawyer’s rejections for a short while, before hiding behind the inner cage I’ve perfected over the years. As soon as those bars go up, I am numb to all feeling, and I don’t hurt anymore. No one or nothing can get to me when I’m protected behind those steel walls, and it’s my number one go-to survival tool.

  I scramble to my feet, folding my arms across my chest as I glare at my mother’s monster of a husband. “You want me out? Fine. I’ll go.”

  I’d throw a party to celebrate if it wasn’t for Kayleigh. My sister is only nine, and I’m scared for her. My jaw tightens as I narrow my eyes on him. “But if you lay a finger on my sister or my brother,” I add, including Kayleigh’s twin Hunter, because I don’t trust Aaron with either of his kids, “I’ll fucking bury you.”

  I have considered it. A lot. But it would be my word against his, and my track record won’t help. His expensive lawyers would destroy me in court, but I doubt my stepmonster would walk away with his reputation intact. And that is the only thing I can hold over him.

  Darting forward, he grabs my chin, pinching my skin with his nails. “Don’t fucking threaten me, you stupid cunt. I can end you. Just like that.” He shoves me away, clicking his fingers. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re not welcome here. And stay away from my children.” He stalks toward me, backing me up against my bedroom wall. “I won’t warn you again.”

  “Why now?” I ask although I’m guessing it’s because I’ve just turned eighteen. I thought he would let me stay until I graduated high school. If I hadn’t fucked up spectacularly when I was a freshman, and been forced to repeat the year, I’d be completely free right now.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you. My house. My rules.” His hands curl around my throat, and he tilts my head back. “If I’d known.” His eyes darken with unconcealed rage as his grasp tightens on my throat.

  I slowly lift my knee, ready to strike.

  “If I’d known, this would’ve happened years earlier,” he supplies. I’ve no clue what he’s talking about, but that’s the least of my worries as I struggle to breathe. In a surprising move, he lets me go before I’ve had time to embed my knee in his balls. “He’d be so disappointed if he knew.” His gaze roams me from head to toe, his face etched in disgust, but he can’t disguise the glimmer of desire that radiates from his eyes.

  Bile swims up my throat, and I cross my arms over my chest again as a shiver creeps up my spine.

  I hate him with the intensity of a thousand suns.

  Anger twists and turns in my gut, and I renew my silent vow: I will make him suffer.

  Someday, somehow, that bastard will pay for all the ways he has broken me.

  “Ticktock.” He glances at my walk-in closet. “Start packing.” He exits my bedroom, and I exhale heavily. I don’t know what has prompted this decision at this moment, but I’m not hanging around to find out.

  I hadn’t unpacked from my Hamptons vacation, so I grab some more suitcases and throw a bunch of my clothes and personal belongings in. I retrieve the cash pile I’ve been collecting the past couple years from the shoebox hidden underneath one of the floorboards in my closet, along with my passport and the small handgun a guy at school acquired for me last year.

  I hold the cold metal in my palm, feeling more assured knowing I have it and I know how to use it. It was worth the hefty price I’d paid for it, because I knew this day would come, and I’ve tried to be as prepared as possible.

  Placing the gun in my purse, I check I have my cell and my wallet before I get dressed. Pulling an off-the-shoulder sweater down over my head, I slip my feet into my white and gold Vans and take one final look around my childhood bedroom, not feeling any sorrow at saying goodbye.

  This bedroom holds nothing but bad memories, and I’m not sorry to be leaving it behind.

  The asshole watches as I haul my suitcases downstairs. It takes two trips, but he does nothing to help. He just stands in the large, circular lobby of his massive home, wearing a bored expression, while he repeatedly checks the flashy gold Rolex on his wrist.

  Briefly, I wonder where Mom is, but I’m not surprised she isn’t here to wave me off.

  She checked out on me, on life, a long time ago.

  I walk toward the front door with my head held high, holding onto my last suitcase, damping down the fear that prickles my skin for my little sister. As soon as I get out of here, and find some place to call home, I’ll work out a plan for protecting Kayleigh.

  “Nessa.” Her tiny voice infiltrates the layers wrapped arou
nd my heart, and I gulp over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat. I school my features into a pleasant mask before turning to face my sister. She’s on the stairs, standing on the bottom step, dressed in her Frozen pajamas, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her shoulder-length honey-blonde hair is in a mass of tangles, covering half of her face, obscuring her cute button nose and those big blue eyes a few shades paler than mine. “You’re going away again?” She pushes hair out of her face, staring at me with hurt shining in her eyes.

  I walk in her direction, crouching down in front of her. “I’m eighteen now, little princess. It’s time to spread my wings.”

  “You’re not coming back?” Her voice elevates a few decibels, and tears cling to her long lashes.

  “Not for a while.” I hate lying to her, and I’m being as vague as possible without making promises I can’t commit to.

  Fuck that bastard.

  I fucking hate him so much.

  I pull her into my arms, and warmth filters through my limbs when she curls her small body against mine.

  “I don’t want you to go. I’ll miss you too much.” She sobs into my neck, and cracks start splintering my heart.

  “I don’t have a choice, but I’ll find a way to see you,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ll miss you too,” I say more loudly to disguise our hushed conversation. I lower my voice again. “But it’s our secret. You can’t tell anyone. Not even Hunter.”

  “Enough,” the asshole barks, and she jumps in my arms before subtly nodding.

  I kiss her soft little cheeks. “I love you.” I love my little brother too, but asking to say goodbye to him is a futile exercise, because I know the asshole won’t permit it.

  He wants to shove me out the door and pretend like I don’t exist.

  Like I never lived here or was ever a part of this family.

  In his eyes, I never have been, because his blood doesn’t flow through my veins, and I was an unwelcome part of the package when he met and married my mom.

  “Vanessa needs to leave, sweetie,” he adds, deliberately softening his tone as he lifts Kayleigh out of my arms. He presses a kiss to her temple. “And you’ll be fine. You’ve got me and Mom and Hunter. That’s all that matters.”

  My hands twitch with the urge to punch him, and I draw deep breaths to steady myself. Blowing my sister a kiss, I swiftly turn around before I do something I’ll regret.

  Like remove my gun and put a bullet between that asshole’s eyebrows.

  I take a shuddering breath as I step outside, closing the door behind me. Relief is sharp but bittersweet because I’m not here to run interference anymore.

  Daylight is creeping across the skyline, casting a glorious golden hue on the land below. In a bit of a daze, I stare at the impressive manicured lawn in front of me. This moment is longed for but still surreal. We live in an affluent area of New York, in an exclusive gated community that houses celebrities, attorneys, businesspeople, and several politicians.

  It’s beautiful here, but, for me, it’s an illusion.

  I’d rather be broke and happy than rich and living a lie.

  Leaving my suitcases by the water fountain, I walk around the side of the massive two-story property and into the ten-car garage. I guess I should count my blessings he has let me keep my Range Rover Evoque. It was my parents’ gift on my sweet sixteenth.

  I know I only got it so they could keep up appearances.

  Aaron Breen values his reputation above anything and everything in his life.

  He turned the legacy his parents left him into a hugely successful business. His parents established and managed a chain of grocery stores across the state of New York, but their only offspring turned it into a global brand that rakes in millions and millions every year.

  He likes to play the part in every aspect of his life. From his stunning trophy wife to his picture-perfect blond-haired blue-eyed kids.

  I’ve always been the odd one out. Trouble with a capital T. His reckless, selfish, stepdaughter who tarnishes his image with her out-of-control behavior.

  Behavior he caused.

  Not that he sees it that way.

  On the surface, it looks like I want for nothing.

  Behind the veil, I’ve been deprived of everything most girls my age take for granted.

  Pain slices across my chest, so I reinforce my steel walls and dull my emotions until there is only a calm emptiness in its place.

  Climbing in my car, I start the engine as a shadowy form in the corner of the garage catches my eye. Mom ghosts toward me, the layers of her pink silk nightgown floating behind her as she approaches. She’s walking with an obvious limp, and acid crawls up my throat. I lower the window when she reaches me, my eyes skimming the myriad of fresh bruises across her chest and arms. They’re strategically placed to be hidden under clothes, but that’s nothing new.

  “Here.” She hands me a thick, padded envelope. “That’s all I’ve been able to get. Any more and he’d notice.” I peek inside at the bundles of hundred-dollar bills. I don’t even consider turning it down. I’ll need every cent I can get my hands on. And this woman owes me so much more.

  I decide on one last-ditch attempt. “It’s not too late to take the twins and come with me. We can plan it. We can—”

  “Stop, Van. You know he won’t let me go.” Her words are clear and un-slurred, and it’s a rarity. Lucid moments between us have been few and far between lately. “There’s no place we can run to where we can hide.” She grabs my arm, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. “I know why you don’t want to go, and I’ll keep her safe.”

  A harsh laugh bursts from my lips. She’s so fucking delusional.

  “I’m sorry I failed you,” she adds in a whisper, tears coursing down her cheeks. “You deserve so much more.”

  “I do, Mom. But this isn’t about me anymore.”

  It’s too late for me but not for my sister.

  I clutch her arm, pinning her with a somber expression. “Don’t fail Kayleigh, Mom, or I swear to God, I won’t just be coming back for that monster.”

  PART I

  Summer after High School

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jackson

  Eleven months later . . .

  “THANKS, MAN,” HUNT says, as I step out of the elevator directly into the hallway of the New York penthouse apartment I share with him. He’s shaking hands with a tall, skinny dude with glasses, both looking all serious and shit.

  “Sup, dude.” I jerk my head in acknowledgment at the geek when I reach them.

  His nose wrinkles in distaste as he quickly scans my sweaty form.

  It’s hot as hell out today, so I ran my usual route in Central Park in minuscule training shorts and sneakers. Sweat has plastered hair to my brow, and it glistens on my upper torso, gliding a path down my spine. I wipe my slick brow with the back of my arm, sending a wave of stinky air in mystery dude’s direction. His face pales, and I grin, chuckling when he takes a step away from me.

  “Jamison was just leaving,” Hunt confirms, ushering the guy toward the elevator I’ve just stepped out of.

  I walk into our large open-plan living space, grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and stalk to the wide ceiling-to-floor window, looking out at the vast expanse of Central Park down below. I guzzle water as I survey the hustle and bustle of summertime life in New York.

  Never thought I’d say it, but I miss Rydeville, and it’s only been three weeks since we graduated high school and headed back to New York for summer break. I miss the more laid-back lifestyle, my other best bud Anderson, his wife Abby, and our group of friends. But I sure as shit don’t miss all the elite crap we got caught up in.

  “Do you have to be so obnoxious?” Hunt asks, appearing at my side.

  I flash him my pearly whites. “Did I offend your fuck buddy?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I’m not fucking Jamison. He’s the guy I told you about. The one I’ve been paying handsomely to dig into Gerald Allen Junior’s background. To
see if he could find some link to Dani.”

  Pain prods at my heart, like it always does any time my sister is mentioned. I still struggle to believe she’s gone. Even though it’s been almost five years, the agony of losing her isn’t fading. I spent years using weed, booze, and sex to numb the pain of her loss, but it also numbed me to most everything else.

  Including the ability to properly mourn, and it denied me revenge.

  It was Abigail Hearst-Manning—now Abigail Anderson, after she wed my buddy Kaiden last Christmas—who altered my way of thinking. Abby’s strength and resolve pulled me out of my head. She fought to regain control of her life and to make her father and those elite bastards pay for what they did to her and others, and it ignited a spark that grew to a flame inside me.

  Now, that flame is an inferno, raging wildly, barely controlled, and the only thing that will tame it is finding the bastard who destroyed my sister and making him pay.

  Dani may have taken her own life, but it was the things they did, he did, to her that broke her spirit and ended her will to live. Dani may have jumped off the roof of my parents’ penthouse in downtown Manhattan, but it was Christian Montgomery who pushed her.

  And I won’t stop until that bastard is dead.

  “Lauder.” Hunt waves his hand in front of my face. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Sorry, man.” I sigh, rubbing the tense spot in my chest. “I zoned out. Did the nerd find anything?”

  “He found … something,” he cryptically replies, crossing to the large leather sectional and dropping down onto it. He grabs a paper file from the coffee table. “Not the something we were looking for, and I’m not sure how it helps or if it helps at all.” He claws his hands through his dark hair, his brow furrowing.

  It’s not often I see Sawyer Hunt perplexed or so ill at ease.

  “What is it?” I sink onto the couch beside him.

  Wordlessly, he hands me the file, and I start reading. I’m vaguely aware of Hunt getting up, but I’m too engrossed in the shit the nerd uncovered to pay any attention. The room pulses with tense silence as I take it all in. “Holy fucking shit.” I slam the file down beside me when I’ve finished reading it. “You didn’t know?” I ask, glancing at my buddy’s back. He’s standing in front of the window, nursing an old-fashioned in his hand.