All is Lost (All Series, Book 2)

by Marie Wathen

  “I’m glad you like it.” He kisses me once more. “Are you okay with staying here, now?”

  Thinking about how much closer I feel to my dad again, just by returning home, I nod yes.

  “Good,” he mumbles slipping off the bed, retrieving clothes from his bag.

  “Are you leaving?” I ask, uncertain if I’m ready for him to leave me with the demons that possess my home.

  “I’m only leaving you for a short time.” After jerking up his jeans, he crawls onto the bed and hovers over me. “Once I check the alarm system and make sure every door and window is secure, I have to meet Tac and Sam. There were new developments overnight and I’m going over to Rhys’ to get all of the details. I thought you might want to relax a little while I’m gone. You could soak in the tub and read one of those hot books right there.” Smirking wickedly, his eyes flick over to my nightstand. My face and neck reddens instantly seeing one of Danielle Taylor’s steamy romance novels lying face down.

  Burying my scalding hot face in my hands, I softly moan, “Ohgod.”

  “You have an affinity for Mac’s, do ya?” He jokes, referring to the books lead male character and the nickname Tristan calls him occasionally. He read it, I mentally shriek.

  “Please stop,” I beg, dying from utter and total embarrassment.

  He moves my hands away from my face and strokes his thumb over my blush from my cheek down my throat, stopping at the hollow of my neck. The heat of his touch blazes dancing flames straight to my core.

  “Hmm,” he moans. “Now that’s how I like putting this color on you.” Bending down he kisses me hard, his tongue seeking mine and for the first time I allow it before brushing and he gets greedy. His hand works up the side of my body under my tee-shirt. Kneading my flesh as he goes, he reaches my breast and a growl so deep and hollow erupts from his chest that it sounds like he is in a tunnel. Nibbling on my lip, he sucks it in his mouth and bites it tenderly.

  “Fuck Baby.” Placing his forehead gently against mine, his gaze bores into me, “I want to stay with you and finish this, but dammit I can’t.”

  He pulls away and sits with his back against the headboard. Lacing our fingers together he pulls me onto his chest and sighs heavily.

  “What’s wrong Babe?” I ask, feeling nervous butterflies twitching ready to take flight in my belly from his sorrowful exhale.

  “Tac has a plane waiting to take him to a small island off the coast of Haiti. There was a ship attacked by pirates presumably, I’m not sure if I completely buy that story. Lately, everything is suspicious. According to the investigator, the large commercial ship was transporting American made vehicles to the Philippines. That’s not the only cargo found. Anna and Waverly were not on it.”

  I blow out a noisy breath of air and glance away after I see anguish darken the green in his striking eyes. “Damn, are we ever going to get a break?”

  “Maybe we did,” he says. I look back and stare, confused by what he could mean exactly.

  “Along with a small crew it had more than twenty young women who were en route to a brothel somewhere in the western Pacific Ocean and only one survivor.”

  “So when you say that Anna and Waverly weren’t on it, do you mean that they could have been?” I ask nervously.

  “It’s a huge probability.” Reaching a hand up, he loops a strand of my hair around his finger and zones out for a moment. “I say that based on the survivors identity.” After pausing long enough to jump start my twitchy butterflies, he slides his hand under my chin and lifts my face so that he can look into my eyes. “He was one of the abductors.”

  “If the girls weren’t on it then they could still be alive somewhere,” I demand, scooting off the bed and pulling him along with me. “If he knows where they are then we could have them back soon. What are you waiting for? You have to go with Tac!”

  “Alright, alright, I’ll go, but before I leave I’m calling Raithe. If he can’t come, he’ll send another unmarked unit to sit out front until I return.”

  Pulling a tee-shirt over his head, he winks at me and then finishes dressing quickly. He sends a text off and then shoves his dirty clothes into the bag with his clean ones. Suddenly seeing him do this, I feel like he might not come back to me. I reach out and halt his packing.

  “Wait, I-” My breath fists tightly in my throat, preventing me from getting out what I need to tell him.

  Noticing my panic is constricting my airway Marcus draws me against him and murmurs, “Hey Baby, I’ll be back soon. I promise. I love you and nothing will keep me away from you ever again.”

  The slow strokes of his hand dragging down my hair aids in calming my anxiety and I manage to get control again. With my face pressed against his chest and hands gripping the back of his shirt, I nod slowly and pull away to look at him.

  “I believe you and I love you too.”

  He pulls my hand up and kisses it before lacing our fingers together and marching us downstairs. He jogs through the house toward the back and returns after a minute. Opening the door, he shakes his head spotting an old Honda Odyssey van occupied with two large gentlemen parked down the road.

  “The back door and garage access are locked. Promise that you’ll go upstairs and relax after arming the alarm. And do not open the door for anyone other than me, or someone from our team. Hell, I’m not sure if I even want Morgan here after he sneaked you off to Granddad’s.”

  “I’ll be good and stay right here until you get back,” I promise, kissing him one last time before he opens the door and leaves.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Morgan

  “Morgan, I said no and I’m not repeating myself again,” Marcus growls, piercing me with a look that threatens to stomp my ass if I push the issue again, but I don’t give a fuck.

  “Whatever. I’m going and you just need to get the fuck over it. Sam asked me to go in her place. After showing up at Granddad’s last night and discovering Elise crawled on top of Tristan, she refuses to leave his side.” Thank fuck Sam got there before that leech stole what rightfully belongs to Anna. “Besides, Sam said it was Tac’s detail. She was just tagging along. I’ll be tagging along instead.”

  I know my sister suggested I go with them to help, but she really did it to get me and Marcus to spend some time together. She is always trying to fix things between us, but this little trip isn’t going to get it done.

  Sighing audibly, I add, “Marcus, whether you like it or not I am part of this shit. If there is something I can do to help get…” Catching my almost flub, I say, “the girls safely returned home then I’m doing it.”

  Damn, I nearly said Waverly’s name out loud. Saying her name, especially to Marcus isn’t a good idea. He doesn’t need to know how much she means to me. He just needs to shut up and accept that I will be flying out with him and Tac to interview this guy that could have put his filthy, disgusting hands on my little sweetness. That bastard better not have harmed one hair on her head.

  “It’s pointless and you’ll just get in the way. You can’t just tag along on a fucking abduction investigation. If shit goes down, you can’t protect yourself. Besides, I could use your help watching Breesan until I return.” I see the flicker of deceit in his eyes and know that there is no way in hell he really means that bullshit.

  “No,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and staring him down. “I’m not babysitting your girlfriend this time.”

  “Let’s go,” Tac says, walking into the front foyer. “The plane leaves in fifteen minutes. Morgan, I’m glad to have you with us. I understand you’ve got some sweet intel for me to review for the trip down.”

  “Yes,” I say, giving my brother a shit-eating-grin while shrugging a shoulder, relaying that my tagging along really isn’t his decision to make. “I made a few calls yesterday to some associates. I just hope what information they gave me is useful.” Turning toward Marcus again, I add, “I’m going, and just so you know I can protect myself. I actually knocked out two fuckers rece
ntly.”

  Grunting loudly before chuckling, Marcus shoulders his carry-on bag and asks, “What happened? Did a couple of pissed guys, already torn down from too much alcohol, fall down onto your fist?”

  “No,” I answer, mocking his cheekiness. “Both were sober and neither got up from the single strike I gave them.”

  That’s not exactly a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that I got lucky on both accounts. Luckily he doesn’t ask about the meat grinder look I showed up with after Peanut bashed my face. I would have to lie about that one. I’ve got to save face somehow if I’m going to convince him that I can handle whatever happens.

  “Since I can’t carry a gun, do you think I can get a taser?” I ask Tac, after we board the plane.

  He laughs while sitting down in the leather seat as the rumbling aircraft begins bouncing down the runway. After reaching into his black tactical bag he tosses me a can of pepper spray.

  “What the hell?” I raise my eyebrows. “Dude, I don’t want to get close enough to spray some fucker in the eyes.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to catch your misfire because you don’t know how the hell to use a tasergun,” he says coolly, flipping through the reading material I provided.

  Marcus joins him in laughing at me. I flip off both of the bastards and mock their laughter. Cock suckers

  Feeling a twinge in my shoulder, I cover my hand over the thick bandage as a slight smile snakes along my face from the memory.

  I couldn’t sleep last night so I got on my bike and took a ride out to the docks. I sat staring at my family yacht, remembering back to the night I drank like a fucking fish to wash Waverly’s beautiful face and body out of my memory bank. It didn’t work. Every good memory I have of the past three years include her. Finally being alone for the first time since returning from Vegas, I push the past month to the forefront and watch my history pass like I am looking into the rear view mirror. Dead inside by my own design, I did so much stupid shit out of desperation. I never wanted to say goodbye to Waverly, not really. A smile breaks out on my face when I admit out loud to the rolling ocean waves that my soul misses my little star.

  My bliss fades quickly when I remember running away like a little bitch after losing her (I know I threw her away, but I didn’t have a choice at that moment). Escaping my pain, I chased the devil and replaced the grief with sin. I really thought it was a fucking genius idea. Looking back at the results, revamping my life and filling it with booze and babes was a complete cluster fuck of bad ideas.

  Briefly, my mind drifts to Candy. I sigh as the guilt inundates me. I hope that she managed to stay out of the clutches of those fucking bastards who were trying to kill her. I stand behind the fact that leaving her alone was best for me and her. Marcus and Tac are right, I can’t protect myself much less a woman running from hired killers.

  Every choice I make effects more than just me. I finally figured that shit out after paying a hefty price that will surely bankrupt me emotionally if I don’t get Waverly back.

  She is the one, I whisper to the twinkling in the dark sky.

  Swiping a boot against the kickstand, I gun the throttle on my motorcycle and ride into the city center. On the hunt for Spyder, I park at O’LaLa’s and join a crowd who appear to be looking for the infamous man also. Parking my ass in a leather chair inside his shop, I wait my turn and two hours later I walk out of the tattoo parlor sporting the outlines for two intertwined stars. Everything has changed especially my dreams and plans. Gone is the egotistical prick, I was before losing her. Now I’m the man who desperately wishes his real life little star’s head was resting on my shoulder where the replication is now.

  ***

  Breesan

  I watch Marcus pull out of my driveway and give a little finger wiggle wave before shutting and locking the front door. I punch in the code to set the house alarm and climb the stairs going back to my bedroom.

  “I’m just going to relax and clear my head of everything for one evening. I can do it. I just need to focus on good things and control my breathing,” I say to the now empty house.

  However, my ghosts eavesdrop on my little pep talk and accept the challenge. A flood of memories inundate me as I enter my bedroom. I spot the open packet from the University of Miami and my eyes instantly avert to the calendar positioned on my desk. Spotting the thick red circled date, I realize I have just over three weeks before I am expected at freshman orientation. I can’t just show up now with the whole damn world believing that I was abducted.

  A heavy sigh rushes out when I think about my plans and the plans my dad always expected me to follow. What would he expect from me now, given the deadly situation? I know he would want me safe. Is it safe now with Julia gone? Will Dr. A want to come after me now or was it Julia’s plan alone to get rid of me? I have a million more questions and I really need answers to at least a few of them. At the top of the list is what am I going to do to help my friends?

  Feeling my way through the haunting memories the guilt hits me like a sucker punch to the jaw remembering that Tristan is supposed to join me at school, but since his injury I don’t know if he’ll be healthy enough to make that move, and now that he’s different will that still be his plan? Anna would be moving to Paris a month after our move. Oh Anna, I’m so sorry. I pray that we find her in time. As much as I want to keep her with me when we do find her, I know starting a life in fashion is her dream and I can’t expect her to give up everything for my selfish needs. I wonder what Morgan’s plans will be now that his father has disowned him and attending graduate school is no longer part of his future.

  The price everyone has paid for me is an unfair sacrifice. Just when I think I can control the bullshit, guilt starts squeezing the life out of me. I picture the faces of Jack, Ian, and Tyle and imagine their pain at losing Waverly. What are her plans? I don’t know anything about her other than she works at the club.

  Everyone’s stories have changed because of two very evil people who want me dead.

  My protection hasn’t come easy for the four member team, whose real jobs are national protection against drug dealers not babysitting me. Although, being with them has significantly changed me and opened my naive eyes to a completely fucked up world. I am grateful for their relationships, but I accept that if not for this Dr. A situation, that destiny has dealt them, they wouldn’t know the name Breesan Maxwell.

  Something snaps in my head. Who is Breesan Maxwell? Everything I was is dead and gone. I thought I was a fighter before but since the abductions that is all I have been doing and now I know I am. Fighting to survive, fighting for friends, fighting through loving others, and I will keep getting stronger with the help of the people that surround me and those whom I’ve lost.

  “Everything has changed,” I breathe out proudly.

  I turn on the water in the tub and begin sorting through clothes hanging in my closet for something familiar and cozy to wear. Smiling as I scoop a vintage Backstreet Boys tee-shirt off the wall of tee-shirts, I chose a pair of soft white shorts and just for some added comfort I pick up a thick pair of fuzzy red and white striped socks.

  I flip on the radio and sort through the stations until my favorite Paramore song Still Into You gets me wiggling around and I sing along with the lyrics. Letting myself go I get silly thinking about my man and replace all the ‘You’s’ with Marcus’ name. The biggest, goofiest grin perpetually plasters itself on my face.

  Literally, everything with him has changed after making love last night. Waking up this morning and knowing that he loves me encourages me to move forward with that one little, four-letter word that I forced away for almost fourteen years. Stripping out of my shirt and panties I smile as I remember watching my angel morph into a devil last night as he plunged into me repeatedly. I never imagined how fantastic sex could be; or is it fantastic because of Marcus? Ohgod yes it’s because of Marcus. I have never felt like this with anyone else. I love him more than anyone and I’m so thankful that he is all Mine
.

  I drop my towel on the vanity and just as I stick my toe into the steaming water the door chimes with a warning, ‘Back door is ajar.’

  Instant and total fear invades every cell in my body. Someone is in my house? The alarm didn’t activate so they didn’t break in. Who has a key and the code? Quickly I grab my bathrobe and slip out into the hallway. Taking the back stairs I slowly creep down them and crane my neck around the doorway leading into the kitchen. I spot the lock and notice that it is engaged. What the hell? An overwhelming bothersome, but faithful warning signal skulks into my head.

  My fingernails dig into the door frame as I force my body to turn around. Moving slowly through the house I check the front door and the alarm panel. Everything is still secure, but that damn alarm in my head is getting out of control, loudly telling me that something is not right. The blood moving through my body feels thick and sluggish as I trudge quietly up the stairs expecting evil to come down on me at any moment.

  I hear a bump at the end of the hallway and freeze in place. Someone is in the house. I pan the area looking for anything to use as a weapon. Instantly my mind tells me that it is one of the hired thugs who somehow found out that I am still on Willow Island. Shit what if it is? They will have guns. How will I get out of this alive?

  Remembering the guns my father keeps in his safe in his office downstairs I quickly and silently bolt back down the twenty steps and slide on bare feet along the wood floors as I whip through the hallway and rush through the doorway. I retrieve one of his personal small handguns, all of his heavier firepower would be with him in Afghanistan or wherever his prison is now.

  Another bump upstairs, louder this time, makes me jump and I suppress a scream by biting the hell out of my lip. Exhaling a heavy breath, I decide on taking the back stairs up and hope I catch whoever it is off guard. It’s dark on this side of the house so my eyes must adjust before I can see clearly after my feet hit the upstairs landing. My bedroom is on the left and the sound seemed to come from the room across from it. Julia’s bedroom. The door was closed before I went down and now it is standing completely open. I hold the gun up in my outstretched arms, gripping the handle until my knuckles no longer have blood flowing through them.