Found (Bad Boys with Billions Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  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

  NEED Excerpt

  Dedication

  Bad Boys with Billions series

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Liam

  New Year’s Eve

  From our vantage high atop the secluded lookout point, all of San Francisco glittered at Ella’s feet. I’d draped her in damn near a million bucks’ worth of sapphires and diamonds. The size of the engagement ring I’d slipped on her finger was obscene. None of that meant shit compared to the price I’d paid in giving her my heart. She claimed to love me, but how could she have let me propose, only to announce she’s already married to another man?

  Her words had pierced me.

  They’d hit with shocking clarity, driving me to my knees.

  The year after Mom’s murder—I refused to call her death a suicide, considering my father might as well have crammed those pills in her mouth—a tornado skipped through our town with the capricious whim of a child’s pull-string top. I remember waking the morning after the storm to sadly find our home still in place—even though the living had stopped long before, when Mom’s dead eyes no longer held desperation, but quiet satisfaction. Finally, after years of my father’s abuse, she’d been freed. But I was still there. Barely twelve. Riding my bike with my best friend, Owen, between fallen limbs that transformed our usually quiet street into a slalom. We traveled miles, following the twister’s path through muggy May heat that promised more storms. The wreckage was the housing equivalent of a battlefield, leaving paralyzed stares and buildings with missing limbs. Doc Hallburn’s red Caddy tottered like an upside-down turtle in Carl Mack Jr.’s pond. A gator sidled alongside it, although, to be fair, in hindsight, it might’ve been an old log. Missy, from fourth-period English, stood outside in her nightgown and pink cowboy boots, softly crying while volunteer firemen shimmied a limp noodle of the man who used to be her father out from beneath their fallen magnolia. I first wondered why he’d been out in the yard during the storm. I then envied Missy for having her dad die instead of her mom. We stopped at the end of that block for Owen to catch his breath and eat a Snickers. I rested alongside a telephone pole, leaning against it, breathing in the acrid creosote. I looked up to see a rain-dimpled photocopied picture of Jingles—a lost basset hound. Right above that, just past the duct tape holding the sign in place, had been single piece of straw—maybe even a weed? I didn’t know or care.

  All I remembered now, with clarity so striking that I still saw steam rising from the blacktop and smelled the cloying sweetness of row upon row of Opal Tinctor’s smashed peach preserves rotting in the sun, was the way that lone piece of straw had held the power to pierce that telephone pole.

  Like a bullet, it had stabbed clear through.

  Right now, with cold, damp earth seeping through my pants, dragging me back to the childhood I’d never wanted, that straw was no longer sticking out of a pole, but my heart.

  How had I not seen this coming?

  On some level, I’d known Ella—my Ella—still legally wore another man’s vows. I’d almost questioned her about the way she’d referred to him as her husband in the present tense. Instead, I’d followed my cock instead of logic. Rather than having her background checked nine ways to Sunday, I’d mooned over her with enough theatrics for her to have been some unobtainable, movie-star crush. Stupid. I’d known what we’d shared was too good to last.

  “Liam?” she asked. Her voice sounded far away, as if the moments between my proposal and her proclamation had twisted time and the very earth beneath us until we now occupied our own islands, separated by shark-infested waters and vast, rolling banks of acrid fog.

  I hated her.

  I loved her.

  “Liam, you’re bleeding.”

  I’d clenched her ring so hard that I’d cut my palm. Blood trailed down my wrists and over the stupid sapphire cuff links I’d bought on a whim when selecting her jewelry because they’d matched her blueberry eyes. Blood stained my starched white shirt.

  Kneeling alongside me, she coaxed open my fist, taking the biting bauble. She tucked it into my shirt’s chest pocket before removing my tux coat from her shoulders to wrap one sleeve around my hand. She bundled the rest, wrapping and tucking until it became a black hornet’s nest growing off of my appendage.

  “Instead of the party,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, “let’s have your driver take us to the beach house. It’s been such a busy day—busy week,” she tacked on a chatty titter, “wouldn’t it be nice to ring in the new year on our own? We can make popcorn and watch a movie— anything you want. Oh—and we need to stop off for ice cream. We can’t have a party without ice cream.”

  Was she even listening to herself? Why wouldn’t she stop this incessant babble?

  “If you think about it, we have so much to be thankful for, and I really deep-down believe this year’s going to be great. You’ll keep growing your empire, and I’m going to start those online classes.”

  “Stop.”

  “You don’t want ice cream?”

  I don’t want you. Your complications. Your fucked-up past.

  Only, that would be a lie, because even though I knew she was bad for me—like popping an Ambien, then downing a few fingers of scotch—even if I washed my hands of her tonight, come morning, she’d still be in my head.

  I didn’t want to just marry her, I wanted to possess her.

  “Liam, please . . . talk to me.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to say? I don’t commit. You know that. So when I gave you my ring, it kind of meant something. Where do you get off, keeping a bombshell like this? If I hadn’t been dim-witted enough to propose, would you have ever told me?”

  “Yes—no . . . maybe.”

  “Maybe?” At that, I had to laugh. “Christ, I’ve gotta get out of here. Away from you.”

  “No, Liam, you don’t. Nothing has to change. I’ll wear your ring. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve got the perfect solution. Don’t marry Ella, but Julie Smith. She’s single and ready to mingle.” Her forced cheer turned my stomach. “Perfect, right? We kill Ella. Blaine never has to know. With all your money, you could actually do that, right? Fake Ella’s death?”

  “Yeah . . . That’s not gonna work.” My legs cramped, so I awkwardly stood, turning away from her, because even though her so-called solution was so ludicrous I couldn’t bear seeing her hopeful expression, a part of me wanted to agree. She’d gazed at me all wide-eyed and eager—like my kitten anticipating a treat. As if somewhere in the time since refusing my proposal and now, she’d developed a split personality and didn’t remember the terror she’d shown moments ago. I was beyond pissed to even be in this situation—
not only at her for not telling me sooner, but at myself for not having asked. This whole issue was stupid. But not impossible. “Look . . .” I forced a deep breath. “First thing in the morning, I’m going to get Garrett on this. He’ll file the necessary documents and get the ball rolling. But now . . .” I shook my head. I didn’t want to leave her, but in the same respect, I didn’t trust myself to be with her and keep my hands off her. I needed space to process what just happened. How what was supposed to have been the best night of my life—our lives—had disintegrated into a nightmare. “Just like that? You’re breaking your promise?” I arched my head back and sighed.

  “Funny, how when you said you’d never leave me, I trusted you. Now, I know you’re no different from anyone else I’ve ever loved.”

  She started walking, tottering on the packed dirt road, and I let her.

  I literally felt frozen. What had she expected? How was I supposed to react upon learning she was still married to a guy twisted enough to have carved a message on her tits? He was fucked. I was fucked. Hell, we were all fucked.

  Her crystal-coated gown caught the moonlight.

  When she tripped, she fell like a lightning bug stripped of her wings.

  I could no more leave her sitting alone and crying in the dirt than I could pretend I’d soon forget her. How could I, when she’d become part of me?

  I jogged her way, kneeling alongside her. “I’m sorry. But finding out you’re still legally tied to a monster? It’s not okay.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I know, but realistically, what did you think would happen? Where did you think we were headed?”

  “I don’t know—I just thought we were together. Why can’t we be a couple without marriage? Why is it even a big deal? You said you don’t commit.”

  True. Which was exactly why this was a huge deal—because she’d turned me upside down and inside out and I couldn’t stand it. She’d emotionally stripped me naked and raw and here I was, left struggling to find my way—only, she was my way. My everything.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop. I know you didn’t plan this.” Honestly, I’d never even planned on proposing. But then I’d also never seen myself developing an obsession, and, like it or not, that’s what Ella had become. “Not gonna lie—this situation sucks, but it is what it is. Garrett will handle it.” I took her hands, drawing her to her feet. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Good,” she said with a grim-faced nod.

  “Need me to carry you?”

  “I . . . can—walk.” Her words tumbled haphazard like falling leaves. I wasn’t convinced, so I called the driver.

  In the moments before the limo returned, I took her left hand, drawing down her glove. When it was off, I shoved it in my pants pocket. I unwrapped my jacket from my palm to find my cut had stopped bleeding. I tucked the jacket under my arm, then put Ell’s ring where it belonged. “Here’s how this is going down. We’re going to continue as if this talk never happened. We’re going to enjoy our night—our engagement—and in the morning, Garrett will make your ugly marriage go away.”

  The limo approached, washing us in the headlights’ harsh glare.

  The driver should have found us in an embrace. Instead, Ell and I stood like strangers. After slipping my ring on her finger, I couldn’t even bring myself to hold her hand. None of this was her fault, so why couldn’t I let it go? Why did my body feel heavy with the sensation of having been duped?

  I helped her into the car.

  Seated alongside her, I texted Carol to meet us at the suite I’d reserved at The Fairmont with a fresh tux for me and dress for Ella. Then I sat back and brooded.

  We sat a couple of feet apart.

  I wanted her on my lap.

  She stared straight ahead, twisting my ring as if it were a prayer bead. The set of her mouth was grim.

  I asked, “What’re you thinking?” She shook her head.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I can’t.” As if proving her point, she refused to even look my way.

  “Seriously?” I sighed.

  Twist, twist, twist she went with my ring.

  “Why are you pissed at me? What the hell did I do—other than try to give you a happy ending?”

  “God—how can you not get it?” She covered her face with her hands. “You don’t know my husband—what he’s capable of doing. You say you want to give me a happy ending as if Garrett has a magic wand, but it won’t be that simple. When Blaine said he’d kill me before letting me go, he meant it.”

  I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “Look, I get that this guy hurt you. I understand you’re afraid of rocking his boat, but babe,” I grasped her wrists, pulling her hands from her face to take them in mine, “I promise you—promise—that in me, this guy has more than met his match. No matter what, I’ll protect you.”

  She shook her head. Streetlights reflected in the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “You think I can’t protect you?” The mere thought hurt deep in my soul. A woman needed to feel protected. I wanted to save Ella from her husband the way I hadn’t been able to save my mom.

  “You don’t know him. He carved a note into my skin. He’s sick—sick in a way I don’t think you can even comprehend.”

  Oh—I knew sickness. I’d lived with it. My dad was—still is—a sick fuck. But she was right in the fact that I’d never done direct battle with someone not right in the head. So what? Did that mean I couldn’t take him on? Not a chance. Once I got through with him, the guy would fold like a cheap camp chair.

  “I’m not only afraid of him hurting me, but you.”

  “Never going to happen.” I cupped her cheeks, brushing her tears with my thumbs. “Trust me, a few months from now, your marriage will be nothing more than a bad dream.”

  “I-I want to believe you. But—and please don’t be offended—your way of dealing with problems is to throw money at them until they go away. Blaine has lots of cash. How do you fight a guy who’s immune to your most powerful weapon?” Good question. But I’d figure it out.

  Ella

  “O-M-G!” On the elevator ride to our suite at The Fairmont, Carol grabbed my left hand, then inspected my ring. “Are you kidding me? This isn’t a ring, but a golf ball.”

  The driver had dropped us at a private garage entrance, where Garrett met Liam. The two of them had taken off, with Liam promising to meet me in an hour so we could make our grand entrance to the party.

  “Did he propose to you on the ride over? Why aren’t you more excited? I never saw this coming—like, never.”

  “Yeah . . .” I managed with a faint, breathless chuckle while she hit the button for the eighth floor. “Me, neither.”

  We finally emerged to enter an elegant foyer. Black and white checkered marble tiles echoed our footsteps, and the air smelled of power, old money and faint ghosts of pricey perfume. Carol led the way to a living room, and I couldn’t help but wonder how different this trek might have been had Liam never given me his ring. I wanted him, but in the same breath, I wanted nothing to do with the potentially lethal task of divorcing Blaine. Of course, Liam felt he could handle my husband as simply as if I were nothing more than a company he wished to acquire, but my gut told me Blaine would hold true to his vow to never let me go. More than anything, I prayed that Garrett was able to obtain my divorce as simply as buying a box of crackers. For all I knew, Blaine wasn’t just over me, but had already moved on to his newest victim.

  Carol presided over a tall rack of long gowns. “One of these days, you’ll have to tell me the story of how you and Liam showed up looking like such a hot mess, but until then, pick something new.”

  I stood dumbfounded, still in the suite’s foyer, so deep into my fear that my ankles felt trapped in black mud into which I was only sinking deeper. Tonight was supposed to have been the best night of my life. Sting was scheduled to sing. At this moment, Liam and I should be dancing, twirling among th
e beautiful people, because we are the beautiful people—at least we used to be. Now, he was just another rich guy and I was another dead girl.

  “Ella?” Carol approached. “You okay?”

  I nodded. Shook my head. Then covered my face with my hands when I started to cry. Blaine would kill us both. It was only a matter of time.

  “Hey . . .” She rushed to me, drawing me into a hug while fear shrouded me in black. “You’re marrying the most eligible bachelor on earth besides Prince Harry. What could possibly be wrong?”

  I somehow presented her with not just the night’s highlight reel, but the sobering facts of my innermost identity. I told her about my ugly scars and how Liam might say he would still marry me after Blaine granted me a divorce, but what happened when that day never came?

  What happened when he realized my husband teetered between psychopath and murderer?

  “Holy shit,” Carol said when I was done.

  She took my right hand, leading me to a sofa upholstered in cream. I had tunnel vision, and the rest of the suite was blocked from my view. Much like my suddenly dark future, I could only see a few feet ahead. On my left hand, Liam’s ring burned cold like dry ice. It served as a catalyst launching the beginning of our end.

  “Okay . . .” She forced a breath, dragging me down alongside her. She tucked some flyaway hair behind my ears, then held the tips of my cold fingers. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Mimi and Rocco will be here any second to work their magic all over again. Until then, you’re going to take a couple of these . . .” I watched her move as if she were on TV. As if her actions took place on a separate plane from mine. She reached for a jeweled evening bag she must have set on the coffee table earlier, then popped it open. She withdrew a silver box that couldn’t have been over a square inch in size. She opened that, removed two pretty, peach-toned pills, placed them in the cup of her palm, then closed the box and tossed it back in her purse. Then she was rising, towering over me and leaving me alone. But I didn’t want to be alone. I might have cried out, but couldn’t remember. I heard running water and maybe the suite’s door open and then close. Voices. So many voices. Was Blaine’s among them? I didn’t know. I just couldn’t be sure.