Black Hearts: A Dark Captive Romance (Heartbreaker Book 3)

by Stella Hart

  His eyes narrowed again. “John never told us anything about a hunting cabin.”

  “My mom bought it after he died. She was drunk. We never use it. No one does.”

  “If you’re lying, you’re in a lot of trouble. You know I can check land and property records, right?”

  I shook my head weakly. “Not lying. You can check; it’s under her name. It’s just near State Game Lands 54. Forest Road. It’s a few left turns off Game School Road. There’s no house number, but it’s the one-story brown cabin at the very end of the road on the right.”

  It was the very same tactic I once regrettably used with Alex. A lie coated with the truth. Because the cabin was real, and it honestly did belong to my family, it looked convincing when I brought it up.

  Dwyer stared at me for a long time, and then he straightened up. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he said, pulling out a cell phone from his pants pocket. He tapped on the screen, presumably noting down the cabin address or sending it to someone else.

  “I’ll be sure to mention to Magnusson how you gave him up,” he said, smiling down at me a moment later. “He’ll be so happy to hear how easily we broke his little toy, I’m sure.” He tilted his head to the side. “Although, you don’t look that broken. Yet. Why don’t I fix that?”

  With that, he unbuckled his belt and began to unzip his pants.

  Then he stepped closer to me.

  5

  Alex

  The rage that had built inside me all day was now spilling out of me, my hands clenched into tight fists as I tore through the abandoned shack again and again, punching holes in the thin walls. My face was contorted in a deadly grimace, simultaneously hoping beyond reason that something would finally pop up out of the walls, and knowing for sure it wouldn’t.

  Earlier, I’d been able to keep my feelings in check because I thought I had even a fraction of hope of finding Celeste in time. Now, my fear of losing her had overtaken everything, shut out all sense of rationality. It had turned me into a wild fucking animal.

  I had to find her. Fucking had to. I couldn’t exist in a world without her, a world without the light, angelic presence that balanced out the darkness within me so well. There were so many things left unsaid between us.

  So many things I should’ve told her.

  I may have lost hope, but I hadn’t lost motivation. There was no giving up when it came to Celeste. No stopping. If it came down to it, I would strip this entire planet down to its bones, just to find her and hold her again. Talk to her again. Touch her again.

  I would destroy anyone and anything that got in my way, and the punishment for those who had taken her would be brutal and furious. No mercy.

  I drew in a deep, harsh breath and closed my eyes, trying to force myself to think clearly so that I could regain some sense of logic and come up with a new plan. Only seconds later, I had it. I knew exactly what I had to do now.

  I’d spent the last day hiding from the Circle, thinking that was the best course of action. The way I saw it, if they found and killed me, I couldn’t save my girl. But now I realized I could go in another direction. I could drive right back to my property out of the city and fucking wait for them to show up again.

  Bait.

  If I played it right, I could let them lead me from there all the way to her.

  Even as I thought it, I knew the plan had major risks. Putting myself out there in such a way could get me seriously injured or killed before I even had the chance to follow the Circle back to their headquarters. But I had to find a way to get to them, because that meant getting to Celeste, and right now, I didn’t seem to have any other options, unless you counted ‘driving around in all directions looking for a red brick mansion with a cracked fountain’ for days on end as an option.

  Stepping out of the house, I grabbed my keys and strode toward my car. As I went, a man from the house directly across the street approached me.

  “Hey, did I just see you come out of number fourteen?” he asked, his tone hesitant and wary.

  Shit. Last thing I needed was anyone getting suspicious of me and calling the cops, especially when I was driving around with fake plates on my car.

  I affected a friendly, relaxed demeanor and stopped in my tracks. “Hey, yeah, I was in there,” I called out. “You don’t happen to know George Eastman, do you?”

  The guy shook his head. “Nope. Who’s that? And who are you?” His eyes were beady and narrowed.

  I gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I’m Brett, and I’m kinda confused, to be honest. Drove all the way out here to catch up with George, and this is the address I’ve had written down for him for years. But there’s no one here. I called him and he said to let myself in, and that he’s down in the back, but his car’s not here, and I went all through the place and there’s no one around.” I waved a hand back at the rundown shack. “To be honest, this house isn’t even his style.”

  The man’s shoulders relaxed. “Well, I don’t know your friend, and that place has been empty for years, but I’ve got a feeling I know what’s happened. You’re the latest victim of our dumbass naming system.”

  I frowned. “Huh?”

  He jerked a thumb toward the street sign. “Let me guess. The address he gave you ages ago was for Blandess Road. Not Drive.”

  I wrinkled my forehead, thinking back to my conversation with Fitzgibbons. “Uh. Yeah. Couldn’t find a Blandess Road, though, so I thought it was this one.”

  The man shook his head. “Naw. Wrong place. The road you’re looking for is a full goddamned hour north of here.”

  My frown deepened. “What? I checked all the maps, and this is the only place with that name.”

  He shook his head. “There used to be a Blandess Road, all the way north of the city in Dorseyville, up until about three years ago when they changed the name.” He gestured over the road at his house. “I’m 19 Blandess Drive, but at least three or four times a year for the last decade or so, I’ve gotten mail for Jon Lee of 19 Blandess Road, Dorseyville. Sometimes I order stuff online and it never arrives. Guess where it goes?”

  “Dorseyville.”

  “Yup. Even though it’s so far away, it’s still the same county, so I guess they get confused sometimes. Fucking postal workers, eh? But anyway, like I was saying, they renamed that other road a while back. Your friend really should’ve told you.”

  “Yeah, he really should have,” I said, a spark of hope igniting in me again.

  If there was a chance Fitzgibbons was actually telling the truth earlier about the house’s address, and I was simply in the wrong spot, then I wouldn’t have to lay myself bare to the Circle as bait, hoping they didn’t get the jump on me before I could get to Celeste. I could just continue with my original plan to save her.

  For now, I had to wonder again whether or not the therapist was full of shit. I assumed she was an hour ago, but to be fair, I knew she hadn’t lied about at least one thing. I’d heard that cracked fountain story before, from the mouth of someone who could actually be trusted.

  So maybe Fitzgibbons did feel guilty in the end, after all. Maybe the place she described really existed in Dorseyville.

  “It’s Revell Drive now,” the man said. “Want me to write that down for ya?”

  “I think I can remember it. But thanks, that’s really helpful.”

  “No problem. Sorry you had to drive so far out of your way.”

  “I’ll say hi to Jon Lee for you,” I said with a wink, still faking a convivial air.

  The guy laughed, then gave me a wave and headed back into his house, no longer suspicious of me or my intentions.

  I uploaded my new destination into my GPS and took off, going as fast as I could on the slick roads as the rain started up again.

  The minutes seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace, and I drummed my hands on the steering wheel, willing the traffic in the city to clear. It was almost rush hour by now, though, so what was meant to be a fifty minute drive was going to take more
like an hour and a half, and the congestion wouldn’t be clearing anytime soon. Especially with all this fucking rain.

  Finally, I made it to Dorseyville. Revell Drive was on the outskirts, all large chunks of land with a thick patch of forest stretching into the distance behind it. Just like Fitzgibbons described.

  “Well, well,” I muttered as I parked at the end of the long driveway that led to number fourteen. “Looks like you deserved that quick death after all.”

  This was the right place, beyond a shadow of doubt. The same dark car with government plates that I’d seen on the footage from my property was sitting by a little house, half-hidden behind a patch of thick green shrubbery.

  I broke out into a run, my heart pounding. “I’m coming, angel,” I muttered, my body flooding with adrenaline. “I’m fucking coming….”

  6

  Celeste

  It seemed like the air in the room had turned dark all of a sudden, smoky and bitter with pure dread and trepidation.

  Dwyer had his pants unzipped all the way now, and his turgid pink penis jutted out like a club. He was working away at my jeans with a knife, drawing out the process of cutting them off just to torment me. The table had been tilted back in the opposite direction so that I was facing him, and my fear-contorted features only seemed to make him harder.

  “Please, don’t….” I moaned. I’d rather be stabbed in the neck than have this disgusting man force himself inside me.

  His eyes gleamed with sick desire, and I knew he couldn’t wait to make me scream. He couldn’t wait to violate me so deeply, so utterly, that I might finally lose the will to fight back, my body forced to surrender everything to him.

  “No! Don’t!” I cried out as he uncuffed my feet so that he could spread my legs. I kicked and shrieked, but he was much stronger than me, and with my hands still cuffed above my head, I had no hope.

  He laughed and stuck a hand around my throat, dragging the air from my lungs and choking my screams into silence. I tried to twist my head down and sideways so that I could bite his other arm, but I couldn’t reach.

  Suddenly he whirled around, his hand dropping from my throat. Someone had kicked the door in. “What the—”

  An earth-shattering scream ripped from me as I saw who it was. “Alex! Help!” I shrieked.

  He was here. He was really fucking here.

  In a flash, he flew toward Dwyer, dragging him backward and away from me. The older man was no match in terms of strength, but he refused to go down without a fight, grunting as he tried his best to swing around and get in one good hit.

  Alex’s eyes were lit with fury as he smashed his fist into Dwyer’s nose, and he dropped him to the ground with another hit to the jaw. Dwyer’s back slammed against the concrete when he went down, and his head made a sickening crack as it connected with the floor a split second afterwards.

  Alex stared at him for a second, his knuckles coated with blood. Then he came for me, making quick work of the cuffs biting into my wrists before pulling me into his arms, away from the table. “I thought I fucking lost you,” he muttered, his voice gruff with emotion as he stroked my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimpered as tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I left.”

  He drew back, his eyes dark and haunted. “Why did you go with them?”

  He already knew half the answer to that. He knew I longed to be free, ached to step back into the real world and see all my friends again. So I knew what the real meaning behind his question was. The powerful connection we had, the same one that drew us together like magnets so many times in the past… was it not enough to make me realize he could be trusted in everything he said and that he truly did love me? Was it not enough to make me stay?

  At the time, it wasn’t. But I was a fool. I didn’t know any better, and I screwed everything up. I almost paid the ultimate price because of it.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, tears endlessly streaming down my cheeks. “I was wrong. So wrong. Please forgive me, Alex. Please!”

  “You don’t need to ask me for that. You always have it, and you’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he muttered, pulling me close again, his strong arms tightly wrapped around me. “I’ll never let you go. Never.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to let me go,” I sobbed. “I love you. I don’t deserve to, but I do.”

  “I love you too,” he murmured, his hands weaving in my hair.

  We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. I could finally breathe again, safe in his arms, and it was all I wanted to do—stay wrapped up in his warm embrace, feeling his hands on my skin and my hair, gently rubbing and stroking me until the last day seemed like a distant nightmare.

  I knew it wasn’t over for us yet. Alex hadn’t chased away every demon in our lives, but for now, we were okay. We could take a breath and rest assured that the other was alive and well.

  Dwyer stirred and moaned on the floor, and I stiffened, the feeling of dread and terror quickly returning.

  Alex pulled away from me, grabbed a rope from the cart and tied Dwyer to the metal legs of the table. “Don’t worry. He’s not fucking moving anytime soon,” he said quietly, giving him a swift, hard kick in the ribs. Then he pulled a gun out of a pocket and smashed the side of the barrel into his temple. Dwyer groaned and slumped forward, passing out again.

  Alex looked over at me again, and he spotted the goosebumps on my arms as I shivered in the corner. “You’re freezing,” he said, slowly putting down his gun. He removed his jacket and held it out to me.

  I wiped my cheeks and shook my head. “It’s okay, you keep it. I have a jacket in here somewhere. He took it off me.” I cast my eyes around the room for a moment, then pointed. “There it is.”

  It was bundled up in a corner with my shoes. Alex stepped over to it and picked it up. As he shook off the dust from the dirty floor, my heart charm bracelet and the photo of Evangeline slipped out. His eyes widened, and he stared at the photo for a long moment. Then he picked it up and held it out to me.

  “Why do you have this?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “It’s why I left. Why I didn’t trust you for so long,” I said softly. “When the power went out that day, I found a box in your study, and I thought… I thought….”

  “That I lied.” Alex ran a hand through his hair, and his entire body seemed to deflate. “That I had her there before you?”

  “Yes. And then Dwyer told me you murdered her. That they found her body in the backyard at one of your other places. I know it’s not true now.”

  “No, it’s not.” He shook his head. “Jesus, all those questions you asked me. The distrust. It all makes sense now,” he muttered. “It’s my fucking fault. You wouldn’t have left if I just fucking told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “The whole story.” For the first time in weeks, I saw vulnerability in Alex’s eyes. He shook his head slowly, then spoke up again. “I was going to tell you one day. I knew you were curious about how I discovered the Circle, and how I knew who some of them were. I always planned on giving you all the answers, but I stalled. I hate talking about it. It’s… hard. But it’s my fault you left. Jesus, I should’ve just fucking told you….”

  “You can tell me now,” I said in a pleading voice. I hated seeing him like this. I needed him to stop holding back; needed him to open up.

  “Evangeline was my half-sister. We all called her Lina,” he began in a soft voice, not meeting my eyes.

  All the air in the room seemed to evaporate. I felt like I’d been punched in the chest.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  Alex told me his sisters’ first names a long time ago: Abigail and Lina. Of course they had a different last name to him. Alex’s stepfather wasn’t a Magnusson, for obvious reasons, and when his daughters—Alex’s younger half-sisters—were born, they must’ve been given his last name. That had to be Gibson.

  When Alex told me his sisters ‘weren’t around’ a
nymore, I assumed he meant they’d left the state along with the rest of his family. It hadn’t occurred to me that one of them might actually be dead.

  “What happened to Lina?” I asked in a small voice.

  He looked down at the photo of her again. “This was taken at our old house. She always loved this rug,” he said, seemingly not hearing my question. “I suppose that’s why you thought I had her at my current house at some point? Same rug. I took it with me when my parents left the state. They didn’t want it anymore.” He looked up at me, waiting for me to confirm his assumption.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered, my cheeks flaming with shame. If I’d only asked….

  “Lina and Abigail were twins. Four years younger than me. I loved them both, but I was always a bit closer to Lina. She was just so….” He trailed off for a moment, staring into space. “She was fiery. Confident. Abigail was more of a shy bookworm. She preferred to keep to herself.”

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded, prompting him to continue.

  “When they were around thirteen, Abigail was still very much a quiet thing, but Lina developed a bit of a wild streak. She used to sneak out of the house, get in trouble at school, get caught smoking… things like that. So young but so desperate to grow up. I kept telling her to calm down, enjoy her childhood, but she didn’t want to. This photo was actually taken around that time.” He looked down at the picture again.

  My eyebrows shot up. “She was only thirteen there?”

  He nodded. “She loved makeup, as much as our parents hated it. It made her look older. But yes, she was essentially still a child. Barely weighed ninety pounds.” He was quiet again for a long moment. “Not long after she started to get into trouble, she vanished. Everyone assumed she ran away, being a wild child and all, but I always knew something else happened to her. I knew as much as she wanted to grow up, she wouldn’t just disappear like that. Then one day, two years later, she was found.”