Beyond Redemption (Marked Series Book 2)

by Jesse Lorenzo

  The detective leaned across the table. Serious determination was written all over his face. “You and me both. I want Dalton. I know he’s behind it all, and I don’t care what I have to do. I’m taking him down.”

  Giddeon liked the thought of that. “I think this is what you call meeting on common ground, Detective. We both want the same things for different reasons.”

  A confident smile crept across Dominick’s face as he nodded in agreement.

  “I’m taking you back to the States with me, where you’ll be classified as my Criminal Informant. Give me everything I need to take down Dalton, and I will make sure the prosecutor in your case is lenient with your situation. If you cooperate fully, I will be in your corner. It’s a win-win. You help me… I help you. Deal?”

  “I don’t deserve leniency! And I don’t fucking deserve your mercy!” Giddeon snapped, growling out his fury, as spit flew out of his salivating mouth. “It’s going to take a lot more than a cop or a twisted fucked-up person like me to bring him down. Don’t you understand? He has more people in his pocket than you can possibly imagine. Even agents in your department, Detective.”

  Dominick slammed his fists on the stainless steel table. Standing, he shouted back, “I’m not in his pocket! Are you? You his little pocket puppet? Are you afraid of going up against him? Well, I’m not! I’ve got nothing to lose, and I’m sure as shit not stopping until his ass is rotting in a six-by-eight shithole. Do you understand me? No one’s going to stand in my way.”

  Giddeon sat watching the detective freak the hell out, admiring his tenacity. He realized then that they were two sides to the same coin, both driven by an obsessive need to find the same man. He had to respect that. “Are you ready to go down this road, Detective? Are you ready to lose your career… your life? Because that’s exactly what Dalton will go after.”

  “You’re damn fucking right, I am.” Dominick pointed his meaty finger in his face.

  “Why are you pushing this so hard? I’m not the sort of person to be trusted. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done, or what I’m capable of.”

  The detective got up and paced the room, never taking his eyes off the dark, cuffed man. An odd expression appeared on his face. It twisted at Giddeon’s gut as warning bells sounded off inside his head. Halting his pacing, Dominick seemingly came to some kind of decision as he walked back over to the table with purpose. The detective tapped the cold table with his finger. “Obviously, we ran your prints…” Grabbing the envelope, he reached inside and let out a deep breath, as if what he was about to reveal inside was difficult to bring up.

  Giddeon knew that whatever was in there, was about to change everything. Slowly, the detective pulled out a file as thick as a novel, dropping it on the table. The smooth, stainless steel surface had them skittering across its length. Several photos landed directly in front of Giddeon. His stomach bottomed out.

  “I know who you are… Giddeon Cane. You have been missing for quite some time.” Dominick’s voice sounded distant to Giddeon’s ears, and he felt the blood slowly drain from his face. He stared blankly, unable to blink, at a photograph of his deceased parents, embracing outside their old brownstone. The other photograph, a coroner’s photo of their cold, stiff bodies on a metal slab. They stared hauntingly back up at him. His surroundings changed, turning surreal, like Giddeon was standing outside of himself looking in. Bile rose up and threatened to exit. He swallowed forcefully, attempting to hold the growing knot at bay. His vision tunneled as he zeroed in on the photo of his parents.

  The longer he stared, the more he slipped into a memory he’d kept buried in the depths of his mind, long forgotten. “I’ve got a good idea of exactly what you’ve been through, Giddeon.”

  Giddeon was taken back to the tiny townhome he grew up in. He could still smell the lemon scented cleaner his mom used to polish the hardwood floors and tables. It was her scheduled weekend cleaning ritual. A young Giddeon skipped up the stone steps with his dad. They were practicing hitting the bag and sparring with a few other members at the local gym. His father was a very strong fighter, a two time golden gloves winner. Giddeon loved watching him in the ring. It became their weekend father-son bonding time. At the very young age of six, he was starting to show him proper stance, the use of a well-placed jab, and how to mix up his combinations.

  They would come home after a few hours to be greeted with the fresh lemon scent. On one particular day, Giddeon’s mother had the radio on so loud she didn’t hear them come in. His dad did his best to sneak up on her stealthily. He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her to him quickly, achieving his intended goal... She jumped a good foot off the ground, startled by his silent approach. His mother giggled playfully as she turned to face him. Slapping him several times was his punishment for her racing heart.

  Dad ran down the narrow hallway and into the cramped bathroom to avoid her stinging slaps as she gave chase after him. Little Giddeon ran after them as usual, entertained by their playful banter. As Mom cornered him, she turned the water faucet on full blast, splashing her husband with cold water. She accused him of smelling like a sweaty skunk and needing a bath. Her laughter came out breathlessly as she cupped the water, splashing Dad over and over. She compared the drenched man to a bristly ape that desperately needed a shave.

  Dad lunged at her, containing her squiggling form in his strong unwavering arms. “All right, honey, pass the shaving cream, will ya.” He slowly reached over, snatching up the cream, while Mom bucked and squealed, knowing full well his intensions. He doused his mother like a chef coating a cake with frosting. Shaving cream splattered everywhere. Their laughter and loving playfulness was forever etched in Giddeon’s heart as he watched them from the doorway.

  Just as quick as that memory flashed at him, it soon morphed into the horrific scene he witnessed not too long after. Giddeon frozen in place. Standing over their lifeless, cold bodies lying on the gritty family room floor. Their blood pooled in a large, stagnant puddle all around them. Their eyes wide open, but unseeing. The smells of sweat, fear, copper, and the faint lemon scent hung thickly in the humid summer air. The only noise was of the flies buzzing around the still forms of their decaying bodies.

  All he could do was stand and stare. The feeling of petrified helplessness kept him frozen on the spot. Too afraid to move. Too afraid to utter a sound.

  A devastating, grief-stricken sorrow crippled him. Giddeon crumpled up inside himself in painful agony. The hollowness inside of him was too heavy to bear as the old wounds were ripped wide opened. An unfamiliar haunting voice came ripping out of the depths of his blackened soul as he screamed out. The disturbing sound eerily echoed around the small empty room. Giddeon’s face was wet with grieving tears he wasn’t aware he had shed.

  Giddeon was shaken out of his hellish nightmare, with the ghostly images of his parents’ dead bodies and the horrid smell that burned his eyes and nose, so many years ago, still at the forefront of his vision.

  Dominick violently shook him back to himself. Grateful that he pulled him out of the hell he tried so hard to bury, he was astonished that his black heart was still able to break after all this time.

  That feeling was worse than any torture he had ever withstood. Worse than dying. That, at least, would be a gift. In that moment, Giddeon silently vowed to avenge their deaths. It was finally time. No more meaningless attacks, no more violent acts that never quenched his need for justice. He would help the detective and use him to find the men who murdered his parents. He didn’t care what happened to him. The time had come… they deserved closure. Giddeon needed closure.

  “Yes, I will help you, Detective. Whatever it takes, I’m in with you all the way. On one condition…” The detective lifted a questioning brow so Giddeon pressed on. “Help me find the men who murdered my parents. Re-open the case. That’s all I want. Don’t worry about trying to help or save me. I’m beyond help now. That’s it. Take it or leave it.”

  Dominick reac
hed over the table, extending his hand to be shook. “I would’ve helped you out with that anyway, now that I know who you are. You’ve got a deal.” Giddeon reached as far as his cuffs would allow, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake. Dominick turned, making his way out the door. “We leave in about two weeks. I just have to sign off and clear everything here. Sit tight in the meantime, and try not to get yourself in trouble with the Scottish authorities… or they will never let you leave.”

  Once the heavy door clicked shut, Giddeon took all his aggression out on the table in front of him, having no other way to release all his pent up feelings of anger, fear, helplessness, and grief. Giddeon’s knuckles cracked wide open after a dozen or so strikes. His blood streaked across the otherwise clean surface.

  Just like that, Giddeon’s motive switched from an addictive need to inflict pain on others, to a desperate need for justice and revenge.

  And he wouldn’t stop until he got it.

  Portree Harbor,

  Isle of Skye

  Things pretty much went back to normal after Detective Antonelli took Giddeon back to the States with him. Business as usual. Ellora was finally able to breathe easy, knowing he was in custody and as far away from Portree Harbor as possible. Her nightmares had been few and far between. She guessed that confronting him face-to-face and fighting him helped to overcome her greatest fears. He wasn’t untouchable. He wasn’t some unstoppable monster. He was just a man. He could be hurt, and he could be stopped. The whole ordeal would still take some time to get over, but she was getting over it with the help of her new family.

  Grady’s Pub had been picking up business since the grand re-opening. He was happier than anyone had seen him since before his wife Catie’s passing. He had a sense of purpose now, and they both leaned on each other for support, understanding, and love. They helped each other out through those tough days of grief.

  Things between Behr and Ellora had grown with each passing day. She still wanted to take things slowly. She wasn’t ready yet to take their relationship too far, too fast. After all, this was her first real relationship, and she was in no rush. Naturally, things always seemed to get hot and heavy whenever they were alone together. They were drawn to one another. The pull was more powerful than the strongest magnet. Even when they were separated, it wouldn’t last long. An overwhelming need would pull them back to each other. She knew this was the result of Behr witnessing her attack first hand. After he risked his own life without hesitation to protect her, Ellora dropped all guards where he was concerned.

  Ellora trusted Behr. She was completely safe with him, both with her life and her heart. She loved him. His intensity and strong feelings toward Ellora no longer set her on edge or scared her. She believed that nothing, or no one, could get to her, so long as she was wrapped securely in his strong, loving arms.

  Just like every other day since then, Behr snuck into her second-floor flat located above Grady’s Pub. This had become a routine that she looked forward to. She was awakened by the intoxicating aroma of dark, rich, freshly brewed coffee. Ellora was already awake but lay perfectly still, pretending to be asleep, as this was her favorite part of her morning.

  Dishes clinked as Behr slid the loaded tray onto her night stand, then carefully eased his weighty frame into bed beside her. Ellora couldn’t help herself; she smiled ear to ear as his large, muscular arm wrapped around her waist. Behr pulled her easily to him, her back to his front. Nuzzling her neck, the love-struck man inhaled her scent deep into his lungs, and sighed contentedly into her hair.

  “Mmm, good morning, Behr,” the sleepy girl slurred lazily with a deep and raspy voice. The sexy sound roused Behr into action. He rained kisses up and down her neck and on the sensitive spot behind her ear. The tender caresses sent delightful shivers down her spine.

  “Mornin’, love. Up a little early, are we? I brought your favorite caffeine fix.” Obviously tired of talking to her back, he easily lifted and turned her over. Ellora made quick work of covering her mouth. Morning breath was so not sexy. Behr smiled as he grasped her tiny wrists with his large hands, forcefully moving them to her side, ignoring her weak protests.

  “Behr, seriously! At least let me go and brush my teeth first!” Her protests fell on deaf ears. The magnificent man continued his delightful assault on her pouty lips, not bothering to heed her warnings, and not seeming to care in the least.

  “I love every part of you, Ellora, bad breath and all.” He spoke the last words while chuckling against her lips. The rumble of his laughter shook them both. Ellora slapped him a few times playfully at his choice of words. He continued the onslaught on her now pliant lips, and she quickly forgot all about her breath dilemma. All too easily, she got lost in their quiet moment of desire.

  Behr’s strong mouth pried open her plump lips, delving deep into the kiss. When the first brush of his insistent tongue swept over hers, Ellora let a breathless moan escape. At hearing her reaction and feeling her barely clothed body arching into his, the eager man nearly lost all control. Every time they were together like this, he always pushed her boundaries a little farther, but Behr knew exactly when to slow down and pull away. He knew Ellora, knew how much was too much. Besides, he had a surprise for her today, and they’d never get to it if he didn’t drag his arse outta her bed.

  Ellora groaned when he pulled away. Oh, God help her, she was falling so hard for this man that it scared her how much she felt for him sometimes. What if he got sick of her… sick of waiting? That thought was always weighing heavily in the back of her mind. But, all she had to do was look into his soulful blue eyes, and all those fleeting thoughts and insecurities would melt away. His affection for her, his love for her, was always gazing right back at her as plain as day.

  Behr kissed her neck, cheek, earlobe, and up into her hairline as he spoke to her. “Get. Your. Beautiful. Round arse. Outta this bed. Go ‘ave yourself a shower. I ‘ave a surprise for you today, love.” He kissed her eager lips a few more times before throwing the covers off her and onto the floor, laughing as she groaned her disapproval.

  “Get ready, love. I’ll meet ya downstairs.” Behr laid one more dangerously delicious kiss on her parted lips. Ellora ran her hands up into his thick dark hair, tugging it roughly, while pulling him down on top of her. He never seemed to be close enough to satisfy her. She might not have been ready to go all the way with him yet, but she certainly had uncontrollable and unbridled feelings for Behr that just grew and grew the more time they spent together. He made her want more. She always wanted more when it came to him.

  “If you don’t release me soon, love, I will never let you out of this bed. I know you’re not ready for that yet, so you’d better let me go soon before I forget that I’m a gentleman and change my mind all together.” Reaching around, he spanked Ellora’s ass hard, unleashing a squeal out of her as he quickly rolled off the bed. Ellora stretched her arms and legs out on the bed, releasing all the kinks and joints from sleep. After a very noisy unladylike yawn, she watched Behr make his way to the door, where he hovered half inside-half outside the door. His eyes roved over her as she lay sprawled out on her messy sheets.

  His expression was one she couldn’t understand. When their eyes finally met, he smiled so beautifully, it took her breath away. Behr shook his head, in awe of the goddess that lay out before him. “You. Are. Mine,” he whispered over to her with pride. Turning on his heels, Behr made his way downstairs. The encounter was quick, and his departure out of the room was just as quick.

  Ellora let herself lay in bed a few more peaceful moments, thinking a lot about Behr… About them both. Yes, she was falling in love with him. Easily. She had always been helpless against it. She knew that now.

  Hopping out of the bed, the still sleepy girl headed into the bathroom for a long, cold shower to cool down her escalated temperature and desire for the man responsible. She found herself hurrying as she dressed and dried her hair, already anxious to be close to him once again and impatient to find
out what his surprise was.

  As she made it down the stairs and around to the front of the bar, she could tell she was the topic of everyone’s conversation. She was met with silence as soon as she entered. Kristy, Grady’s sister-in-law, proved her theory correct as she gave her a big cheesy smile. The motherly woman quickly scooted behind the bar and into the kitchen to grab Ellora some breakfast.

  The object of conversation could hear Lachlan express how much ‘she’ll love it,’ in hushed tones to Gavin, while Behr was readying himself to leave. Patrick apparently loved what he was told because his reply was, “Oh, yeah, brother, she will love you forever for this! She will owe you big time.”

  Curious, she walked in the midst of their conversation with her plate and heavily buttered bagel. She sat on the only available stool, in the center of all the guys. She felt like she had walked onto a Gone With the Wind scene, and she was Scarlet O’Hara. “Do I have time to eat?”

  Behr strolled over to the owner of his beating heart. “For you… I have all the time in the world. Eat up, love. I’m not going anywhere without you.” Ellora blushed scarlet. Oh, this man.

  After breakfast, they headed on down Bank Street, and Behr grasped Ellora’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he always did. They walked at a slow pace, taking in the unusually warm, sunny morning. Behr led her to the old Armadale building. It was the old hardware store her father used to work at before he’d moved to the States with Ellora’s mother. The very same one Giddeon dragged her to, where he had attacked her. A shudder shook her tiny frame at the memory of what took place right here, not so long ago. It was strange; this building held such fond memories of Ellora and Behr’s first date, and the heart-stopping story of her parents’ love-at-first-sight encounter in this very same location. But, it was also the site of terrible encounters and nightmarish close calls.