Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J Bree

  I manage one stroke before my ringtone cuts through the air and ruins everything.

  It can only be Illi and we can’t ignore him, even for a few minutes because fuck knows what sort of trouble he could get into at Hannaford if left to his own devices. Harley groans into my mouth, and when I break away he curses viciously. “Is the whole fucking universe cock-blocking me?”

  I manage something vaguely resembling a laugh but inside, I’m dying over the interruption.

  Harley can’t get me back into the dress and tugs his shirt over my head instead.

  My legs are both restless and wobbling, a dangerous mix, and Harley scoffs at my attempts to walk. “Just sit down and I’ll go let him in. Fuck, cross your damn legs! I don’t want him seeing that perfect wet pussy.”

  I blush and do what he says, even though I know Illi has no interest in looking at me. His eyes belong to someone else and I feel a pang in my chest when I think of Odie.

  I hope the Jackal hasn’t gone after her.

  Harley digs around in his swim bag and pulls on his team sweatpants and jacket, zipping it halfway so his tattoo is still clearly visible. I’ve never seen him in them before and his shoulders look so broad and defined I’m hot for him all over again.

  Okay, new rule: no fooling around right before we meet up with Illi to exchange important, possibly life-threatening, information. My hormones are raging and my brain is no longer functioning.

  I take a second to try to breathe, before the scuffing sound of Harley walking back pulls my attention back to where it needs to be.

  Illi couldn’t look more out of place if he tried.

  Harley scowls at him, leading him over to the bench I’m perched on. I can smell the acrid scent of tobacco and the twitching of Illi’s fingers tell me he wishes he was allowed to light up again. Illi smirks back at Harley, blowing him a kiss and tugging on his leather jacket with a tattooed, scarred hand. I shake my head at him.

  “I need you two to get along, Illi, please stop provoking him.”

  Illi strides over to me, his feet eerily silent in his biker boots, and drapes a casual arm over my shoulders as he sits down. “Anything for you, little Wolf. How’s school treating you? The uniform is fucking weird here, you look like a dirty-old-man’s wet dream.”

  Harley was glaring at Illi’s arm, but at his little comment his spine snaps straight and he steps forward to snarl, “Fuck. Off.”

  Illi holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Look at you, assuming I’m a dirty old man! I’ve skinned people for less, little mobster.”

  I roll my eyes at them both and give Illi a not-so-gentle shove away from me. I trust him, with more than just my life, but I don’t want him sitting so close to me when I’m barely covered. He cackles and scoots along, giving me more than enough space to breathe. That does more for Harley’s temper than words ever could, and he takes up watch on my other side. I slip my hand into his, giving him a little squeeze to try to remind him to stay calm. I doubt it’ll work, but I’m freaking trying.

  “Right, well, I’ve had my fun. I was trying to lighten the mood a bit before I break the news to you. We’re in a world of shit, kid. I hope you’ve got something fucking big up your sleeve because we’re going to need it.”

  Fuck.

  I’m not sure I have anything up my sleeve, let alone something big. I give him a nod and mutter, “What’s happened now?”

  “I asked around about your little crew to see if there’s any word in our corner of the world about any of them, like we discussed. Make sure we’re on top of anything that might threaten us. Got a hit back from out of state. Morningstar was approached by Matteo to take out O’Cronin.”

  “It’s Arbour,” I croak, as I squeeze my eyes shut and take a second to steady myself.

  Illi flicks out a dismissive hand gesture. “Right. So, he was contacted about Arbour, but I was expecting that. I wasn’t expecting him to also be liaising with the senior Joseph Beaumont about your twins.”

  My eyes snap to him.

  What. The. Fuck.

  There’s silence for a minute while I try to stop my heart from exploding inside my chest cavity. Illi watches the water and nods to himself slowly, like he’s agreeing with some internal monologue he has going on.

  “Who the fuck is Morningstar?” Harley snaps when he’s finally had enough of waiting for answers.

  “The Devil,” I whisper, and Illi gives me a chagrined smile.

  He flicks his eyes over to Harley’s and for once he doesn’t try to provoke him. He just lays out the facts of exactly how bad this is. “He once walked into the biggest MC clubhouse in the country by himself and painted the fucking walls with biker innards. Not a metaphor; the city had to provide crisis counseling to the first responders because it was the stuff out of nightmares. When the cops ran forensics there were fourteen different strains of DNA, but no bodies were ever found and it’s still ‘unsolved’. He’s a sociopath. He feels nothing. If he goes after you, we’re fucked. If he goes after your cousins, we’re fucked. If he leaves his state, and wanders the hell into Mounts Bay, we’re fucked.”

  Harley groans under his breath and scrubs his face with both his hands. “Why is there always someone worse? I thought you were the fucking worst there was.”

  That breaks the somber mood a little and Illi smiles like Harley’s just called him pretty. “So sweet of you to say, but there is always someone worse. I for one never want to meet whoever the fuck is worse than Morningstar. Any idea on why that fuck Beaumont wants his own kids dead? I thought you said they were good people? I’ve never known you to put up with dickheads. Well, other than that cock D’Ardo.”

  I grimace and shrug. “They’re the best people. I know some of why their family is messed up, but I’ll get the rest of the details and we can work this out. Fuck.”

  Illi cuts me another look. “Kid, there’s no dealing with the devil. This isn’t a story from old; you can’t cut a deal. If he takes the job from Beaumont… they’re gone. All of them.”

  I swallow roughly. There’s no way I’m letting that happen. No. Fucking. Way. “Reach out to everyone and tell them the twins are mine. Morrison too.”

  Illi blows out a breath and rubs his jaw, his skull rings catching the light and grinning at me ominously. “You inducting them?”

  Harley watches me closely, but I shake my head. “I haven’t asked them, just put it out there that they’re under my protection. I don’t care how you word it, just make sure it’s well known that if anyone touches them they answer to me. If Morningstar takes the job… I’ll start calling in favors.”

  Harley glares at the ground, his fists clenched dangerously. Illi stares at him and then says, softly, like he’s testing his grit, “It’ll be war, kid.”

  Harley shrugs. “They’re richer than God, if we need to we’ll get them out of the country. I hear Antarctica is nice this time of the year. Ash will fucking love that.”

  Chapter Nine

  Harley agrees to keep the bad news to himself until I get the chance to speak to Ash alone about it. I don’t want to tell Avery until we have a plan on how to deal with her father and I can’t make a plan without knowing what the fuck is wrong with the man.

  Getting Ash alone is impossible without an intervention. The five of us are all in the same classes and share our mealtimes, and his extracurriculars are at the same time as Avery’s so there’s never the chance to be alone together. He’s always affectionate towards me, snarking and sarcasm included, but with his sister around I barely get more than a peck on the lips from him.

  I feel so fucking guilty.

  Blaise pins me to the bed most nights during our study sessions and Harley has been sleeping-over a few nights a week, kissing me senseless before the sun comes up and he has to leave for his swim practice, so it doesn’t really seem fair.

  I spend two weeks trying to carve out time for a private conversation with him, but nothing works. Avery starts to stare at me with suspicion and on the fo
llowing Monday, when I ask her what her plans are for the third weekend in a row, she huffs at me in mock upset.

  “Which one of them do you have a craving for? I guess I’ll go find a park bench to sleep on for the night. Just don’t fuck any of them in the kitchen, bathroom, or my bed. Or the couch. You know what, just stick to your bed and change the sheets immediately post-coitus.”

  I roll my eyes at her dramatics and usher her away from the breakfast dishes so I can do them instead. She moves to make us both coffees to-go and I could kiss her damn feet in gratitude.

  There’s no good way to tell her so I sigh, scrubbing the pans a little harder than necessary. “We promised not to lie to each other so… I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve found out that we’re facing a new threat. It’s not something you can help with right now so I don’t want to tell you about it yet. You have enough going on with the cougar whore and keeping the sheep in line, and I’m already doing everything possible to neutralize the situation. If the situation changes, I will come to you and we will plan out a new course of action.”

  Avery hums under her breath softly. “You need some stress relief? Tell me which guy and I’ll go sleep in their room. If it’s Blaise I need to take my own sheets. I swear he doesn’t ever wash his; I’ve trained the other two better than that.”

  I scoff at her and wipe my hands. “Actually, I need to talk to Ash. This isn’t a… relationship thing. It’s to do with the threat. I know you don’t want to say anything that might push him when he’s not ready to talk about the sheer fucked up levels of bad that your father is, but I need to know. The situation has forced my hand.”

  Avery stares at me for a second, then frowns and pulls out her phone. “I’ll cancel tutoring with Blaise, tell him and Harley to stay away for the night, and Ash can skip track.” She chews on her lip and then says, quietly, “I should stay, too. If it’s… if it’s a matter of safety I don’t want him skipping things or trying to make it sound… less than what it is for your sake. He’ll try to shield you from it all like he does with me. I mean, he shields Harley and Blaise from it, too.”

  My heart sinks all the way down to my stomach, but I nod.

  Avery pre-warns Ash of the reason for our dinner so he arrives to our room in a vicious and argumentative mood. Avery puts up with it for about three minutes before she throws a towel at his head and tells him to go cool off in the shower. I make dinner and ignore them both because I’m smart enough to know that you shouldn’t involve yourself in a fight between twins.

  Avery dishes up our food and pours Ash a bourbon from her secret stash. I raise my brow at the pint-sized glass she fills because he’ll be slurring his words in no time if he sculls that down. She shrugs and when the bathroom door opens she leans in to whisper, “There’s no way he’s going to talk about it without a little something to loosen his tongue.”

  Fuck.

  I nod and take a seat. Ash hesitates for a second before taking the seat next to me, kissing the little wedge of skin that’s exposed on my shoulder thanks to Blaise’s oversized band tee I’ve, ahem, borrowed.

  “Thanks for dinner. I’ve really missed the slum food since we got back to civilization,” he murmurs and I roll my eyes at him while Avery kicks him under the table. I hold up a hand to stop the tirade that’s about to spill out of Avery and she smirks at me.

  “No amount of shitty attitude is going to stop this conversation. I realize this isn’t something you want to do and I’m willing to offer you a trade; I’ll tell you my shitty stuff if you tell me yours.”

  Avery’s eyes flare before she can hide it. There’s a whole list of things she is desperate to ask me and now I’m offering them to Ash as an incentive to talk. I’d thought a lot about it, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe.

  “Questions, like you did with Harley? Or are you just going to tell me it all?” Ash says, his eyes icy as he glares at his drink. He hasn’t picked up the glass yet.

  “How about you tell me what you want to know? Because I need to know everything about your father. Why he’s trying to kill you, what he’s done in the past, why he favors Joey, and anything you know about who he chooses for his cleanup. I wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

  Ash picks up the glass and drinks half of it in two gulps. When he speaks, it’s with clinical detachment and a steady tone. “My father is a sadist. He used my mother as a front for his standing in high society. He’d beat her, slap her around, ‘punish’ her, but he was never a monster to her. He saved that for the girls he’d buy at auctions. He enjoys hurting people. He prefers to fuck females, but it’s the pain that gets him off and really, as long as the person is screaming, that’s all he needs. The day my mother was killed, she had followed him through the manor to his private chambers. They always slept separately and she was never permitted to enter his rooms. He had a twenty-one year-old college student, who had been kidnapped and sold off to him, strapped to a table and he was carving his name into her skin with a scalpel, over and over again, while he jerked himself off over the open wounds.”

  Sweet lord fuck. Ash takes the glass again, a fine tremble in his fingers, and he finishes the bourbon. Avery looks like she’s going to vomit, like knowing the facts and hearing them laid out right now with our dinner growing cold between us are two very different things.

  Ash continues without so much as a grimace. “Joey found us in the kitchen as my mother was getting us out. She had known for years that he was a sociopath too; he’d already broken my arm twice. She had no intention of taking him with us and when he found us he called my father. He caught her by the chauffeured car and dragged her back to the house by her hair. He laid her out on the same table that girl had been strapped to, the blood was still warm, and he got Joey to help him. Then the two of them butchered her. When our nanny brought us down for dinner that night my father had Avery wait outside the formal dining room and he described to me exactly what they had done to her. He called one of his crooked higher-ups in the police department and my mother’s death was ruled a suicide.”

  I swallow the bile in my throat and, very carefully, I reach out and cover his hand with mine. I hold back a sigh when he doesn’t shake me off.

  “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.” I say, trying to offer him a break from his demons.

  Ash shakes his head sharply and looks at Avery. “He told me that if I didn’t ‘show some promise soon’ he’d be forced to do the same to me. He put Joey in charge of teaching me how to be a real man, not a fucking pansy that respects women. He can’t stand that I love my sister, that I loved our mother. He just wants a legacy. He wants to die knowing his sons are continuing to torture, beat, rape, and destroy everyone and everything around them. He’s insane, but he’s also very smart. He looks handsome and put-together in a suit. Not a soul on this earth would believe the things he’s done. The only thing reining the two of them in is our standing in high society. He gets away with everything because of who he is. If he were to be exposed, he’d be facing the death penalty in at least ten states and three countries.”

  I squeeze his fingers, but he ignores me. I’m starting to get a little worried that we’ve broken him. “So they’ve used Avery as the bargaining tool from the moment they killed our mother. I am to submit to everything Joey chooses to teach me, to do to me, or Avery ends up on that table. I’ve tested their resolve once, and Harley nearly went to juvie to get Avery to the hospital before she was gone forever, too.”

  Avery shivers and rubs her arms, trying to fight the memories from prickling at her skin.

  Ash spins the glass on the table absently, still staring at Avery. “The clean-up is all done by officials. He has so many dirty pigs in his pockets that it would be harder to find someone clean then to find someone he owns. That’s it, Mounty. That’s everything.”

  I nod and clear my throat. “Do you know why he would contact someone else to kill you? To kill you both? If he’s so…
proficient and willing, why would he pay an obscene amount of money for someone else to do it?”

  Avery frowns at me. “The threat is against us?”

  I swallow roughly. “Yes. He’s contacted a man about having you both killed. The guy is… actually pretty similar to your father, except everything he does is big and showy. I think he likes the attention of being so good at covering his own tracks that he’s untouchable. It just doesn’t make sense that your father would contract your murder out when it sounds like he would enjoy doing it himself.”

  Avery stares at me for a second and then her eyes flick to Ash. I wait for the planning to start. I wait for her phone to come out and her sharp, ruthless mind to get to work.

  It doesn’t happen.

  She stands to grab the plate of dinner and shoves it, dish and all, into the garbage. I watch as she grabs everything from the table, all our plates and cutlery, cups and napkins, and shoves the whole lot in the garbage. The shatter of the glass breaking and ripping the garbage bag follows in her wake, but I let her go.

  She has the exorcize the demons out of our space and she won’t be able to rest until they’re gone.

  I sit in silence with Ash while Avery tears the kitchen apart. We’re not going to have any utensils left by the time she’s settled again, but who the fuck cares when I have a best friend losing her mind and a boyfriend who’s just told me he’s been the victim of two serial killers for the last decade? I certainly don’t.

  “What do you want to know? I promised you some truths.” I whisper, careful not to touch him beyond the hands we have clasped together around his empty glass.

  “Not tonight, Mounty. I’ll take my payment some other time. Can I drink now? I don’t want to become a sulking, morose fuck. We already have one of those in the family, no need for another.” He says and I tug him to his feet gently, directing him over to my bed.