by Liliana Hart
Headlights cut through the window and then passed by, and she moved closer to get a better look at the outside. The clouds were so thick in the sky she couldn’t tell if there was any daylight left, and it looked as if the street was empty. Her heart heavy and missing Cooper more every minute he was gone, she sighed and turned back toward the stairs.
The only thing that kept her from screaming aloud was that it caught in her throat on the way out. Her heart thudded in her chest and her hand rested across her neck. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, but there he stood. Cooper always moved with an unnerving silence.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
His voice rasped across her skin and she shivered. One sound—one look—was all it took to make her go weak in the knees. He had such power over her. Up until recently, she thought it had been mutual.
Cooper was a big man, several inches over six feet, and broad through the shoulders. He wore a black long-sleeved t-shirt and olive green cargo pants, but even covered up it was impossible to miss the thick bulges of muscles in his arms and chest. His hair was thick and black, always a little too long, and his eyes were the purest blue she’d ever seen. He was the kind of man that made men take a step back and women get closer for a better look. And every inch of him screamed power.
“When did you get back?” she asked.
“I just pulled into town and saw your car. I thought I could help you shut down for the night.”
When had they become strangers, she wondered. Or had they ever really known each other at all?
Prologue
Miami, Two Years Ago
Cade MacKenzie knew fear.
It pressed against his chest and squeezed at his heart every time his lover screamed in pain. She stared at him out of wild eyes that had melted like dark chocolate when she’d climaxed in his arms only a few hours before. She’d been soft and pliant against him, his name a chant on her lips, as he buried himself inside her.
But now those eyes were full of terror, the bruise on the side of her face already discolored and her lips swollen and bleeding where Miguel del Fuego had taken his fist to her—a man who never showed remorse or guilt over terrorizing women or children. Carmen had been caught giving the location for del Fuego’s next drug shipment to the DEA, and there were no second chances with the cartel leader. Not even for his own daughter.
Cade and Carmen had been dragged from bed in the middle of the night, both of them naked, the evidence of their passion still evident on their damp skin. They’d been blindfolded and beaten, and Cade knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was no one’s fault but his own. He’d been so wrapped up in the woman, so desperate to be inside her, that he hadn’t swept his room for bugs. He hadn’t found one in over two years. Miguel had begun to trust him, to groom him to take over the cartel. But Cade had let his guard down and taken that trust for granted, and now they would both pay the price.
Cade knew the warehouse they’d been taken to well—the large wooden crates stacked against the walls, the oil-stained concrete, the black panel vans parked in the center of the space. He’d spent the afternoon there himself, making sure everything was in place for the shipment of Miguel’s new date rape drug to come into the US from Colombia. Its street name was Rabbit, and it was particularly dangerous because it could be administered through the skin. One touch of the powder against a hand or the back of the neck, and the person it had been given to wouldn’t care where, who or how many they were fucking. Man or woman. Even as their minds screamed no, their bodies would betray them and beg yes. If it was injected into the bloodstream, there was no chance for survival.
There had been too many deaths over the last several years because of the drug, and Cade had been selected to infiltrate del Fuego’s cartel and take them down once and for all.
The warehouse was bugged and his team was aware of the shipment coming in. It would be unloaded at the docks and brought to the warehouse for safekeeping until it could be distributed to del Fuego’s suppliers. But the shipment wasn’t supposed to happen for another four hours, and Cade knew there was a chance he and Carmen could be shit out of luck as far as having anyone in place for a rescue.
Cade’s own wounds were severe and made it difficult to stay conscious. The gunshot wound to his shoulder bled freely—too freely—and he had at least three cracked ribs. But with every blow he received, he kept his eyes steady on Carmen’s, hoping his courage would be her strength. He was proud of her. She didn’t beg for mercy as she was beaten. She stared at her father with all the hatred and loathing she’d always felt for him. She’d spent twenty-two years being his prisoner, and she’d known it was only a matter of time before she became his guinea pig for the drug he was so proud of.
When Cade had gone undercover in del Fuego’s cartel three years before, he’d had every intention of seducing Carmen into giving him the information the DEA needed to shut down the cartel. He’d had no problems lying to her, or spinning a future together he had no plans of delivering. But Carmen had surprised him. Her sweet, shy smiles, and her need for love had broken through every plan he’d made. The last thing he’d expected was to fall in love with her.
“I’m disappointed in you, Carmen,” Miguel said, caressing the side of her swollen face with his pistol. “You’ve been telling my secrets to this gringo. To the American authorities. Your loyalty should always be to your family. Sí?”
Cade jerked against his captor’s arms as Miguel struck Carmen again, and he fought to stay conscious as fingers dug into the wound at his shoulder.
“Stop it, Papá,” Carmen cried, crawling toward Cade. “They’re hurting him. Please don’t hurt him.”
“Would you have me spare this man, Carmen? A man I trusted? One I hoped would take over my business and give me strong grandchildren so I could see my legacy continue?”
“Yes. Please, Papa,” she begged.
“Would you die for him, Carmen?”
“No!” Cade shouted. “This is between you and me, Miguel. Carmen’s loyalties are divided. Let her go.”
Cade fought again to break free of the hold they had on him, knowing what was coming, desperate to stop it. Two men weren’t enough to hold him down, and two more came from somewhere, getting in punches to his cracked ribs to slow him down. He strained against their hold, sweat and blood running into his eyes, but he couldn’t get to her.
“Answer me, Carmen. Is this traitor’s life worth your own? Do you love him that much?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, her hand reaching out to Cade as she crawled closer, her arm wrapped around her middle.
God, where was his team? They should know something was wrong. Know he needed them. Cade used the last of his strength to work his arm free and hold his hand out to Carmen, praying for a miracle. He needed to touch her, to hold her. She placed her smaller hand in his, her slim fingers bloody and broken, and Cade looked up at Miguel, ready to do whatever it took to save her. To bargain his soul if the monster in front of him would take it.
But when he met Miguel’s eyes, they were mocking and full of hatred. A hatred that had no possibility of being extinguished.
“Ah, young love,” Miguel said, his smile becoming crueler. “This is on your head, Cade MacKenzie.”
Cade threw his body toward Carmen, but he was too late. The shot from Miguel’s gun echoed in his ears along with his screams, and Carmen’s hand went limp in his, her blood splattered across his face and chest. Blood he knew he’d never be clean of.
Chaos reigned around them as the warehouse went black and the shouts of soldiers and agents swarming through the building started to penetrate the haze of shock and anger. He kept waiting for Miguel to finish what he’d started and put a bullet through his brain, but it never happened. Those that held him captive ran for cover, so only he and Carmen lay in the middle of the warehouse floor, flashes of gunfire and smoke building around them.
He pulled himself closer to her body and gathered her in his arms, his mind numb
with grief, and he snarled as hands tried to jerk him away from what was his.
“Dammit, Cade, look at me.”
The voice in his ear was familiar, and he didn’t fight as night vision goggles were placed over his eyes. His brother, Declan, came into focus.
“I can’t—,” he tried to say, holding Carmen closer.
“We’ll get her out, Cade. We’ll do right by her,” Dec said, taking her from his arms into his own. “But we need to get you out right now. The del Fuego cartel will be gunning for you.”
Cade nodded and let his brother lead him out of hell, but he heard the voice that called to him over the chaos.
“You’ll never be safe, Cade MacKenzie,” Miguel screamed. “You’ll never know peace as long as I’m still breathing. I’ll take everything and more that you’ve taken from me.”
Cade couldn’t imagine what more the man could hope to take from him. His future had been the dead woman in his brother’s arms.
Chapter One
Present Day
Neighbors were a pain in the ass.
Especially neighbors who made as much noise as possible at the crack of dawn. Did no one have consideration for their fellow man anymore? She wasn’t asking for much, dammit. Just a little common courtesy.
Bayleigh Scott rolled toward her nightstand to look at the old fashioned alarm clock with the giant hands and noticed it was just shy of 6am. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head, trying desperately to block out the grinding noise from what sounded like a fleet of semis outside her window. She’d closed her shop at ten the night before but hadn’t gotten home until after one because she’d been doing inventory. Not even five full hours of sleep. And she had to be back to open at ten since her assistant was out sick.
When the pillow failed to have the effect she was looking for, she tossed it across the room and felt the slow flush of anger work through her body.
“Who the hell do these people think they are?” she muttered, throwing back the covers and stomping to the bay window in her bedroom.
She could only see the back deck of the house next door from her window, and she scowled as she noted the ferns already hanging from baskets on the porch, the dimmed sconces attached to the posts giving her a good view in the darkness.
“Making yourself right at home, aren’t you?”
She let the curtain drop and stomped through the house, tripping over the edge of the rug and bumping her shin against the table she had at the end of the couch. The coffeepot beckoned, so she punched the button to start her morning caffeine as she made her way to the kitchen window. She had the perfect view of the neighbor’s front yard.
Bayleigh winced as the screech of the truck lift going up and down assaulted her ears. It wasn’t like the noise would bother anyone else. Most of her neighbors turned their hearing aids off after eight o’clock and didn’t turn them back on until the sun rose. There was no way her new neighbors were another little retired couple like everyone else on the street. They were probably party animals or reprobates. Maybe both.
Powerful lights were set up so they could unload the truck that was backed into the driveway, but all she could see was the shadows of men as they unloaded the furniture. They didn’t even need that stupid lift. They were just being lazy. There was no reason for the truck to be on at all.
Muttered curses propelled her out the front door before common sense could take hold. She never did well on little sleep and no caffeine. It wasn’t her fault. She liked to think of it as a medical condition. She’d just explain politely about the noise, and surely they would take care of things from there. It was the decent thing to do.
The cool October air slapped against her skin, reminding her she was only wearing the cotton boxers and tank top she’d slept in. Chills raced across her skin and she tripped over the hose that ran across her sidewalk. She’d forgotten to roll it back up after watering her flowerbeds the previous morning.
She paused for a moment, wondering if she’d made a mistake when she felt three sets of eyes look in her direction. The sudden stillness of the night was unnerving. She couldn’t see the two men in the shadows clearly, but she got a heck of a glimpse of the man standing closest to her. The Devil in disguise. The sudden urge to cross herself had her squeezing her fingers into tight fists. She wasn’t even Catholic for Pete’s sake.
His scowl was black and menacing and he narrowed his eyes at her in warning, automatically putting her back up. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by the likes of him. At least not by much.
Bayleigh straightened her shoulders and marched across the tiny patch of grass that separated the two houses. She climbed into the cab of the big white truck, the cracked seats scratchy against the backs of her legs, and turned off the ignition before taking the key. She jumped out of the truck and watched warily as the three men gathered close, their arms crossed over their bare chests and various looks of surprise pasted on their faces. Maybe Satan was having a convention, because surely all three of these men were fallen angels of the worst kind, or hardened criminals at best.
They were muscled and bare-chested, and their jeans hung low on narrowed hips. It was obvious they were related, and her gaze passed over them all quickly. But she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the one in the center—the one who’d made her lose her common sense with just one scowl. There was something in his eyes that had her taking a step back before she remembered she was standing in the middle of a safe neighborhood. She wouldn’t be intimidated on her own property. She looked down and took a quick step back so she was actually on her own property, and crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to say anything.
The Devil’s dark hair was longer than she liked on a man, almost to his shoulders, and his eyes were as black as coal. Probably because he’d been hauling it in hell before he’d decided to move to Fort Worth, Texas. A short beard covered his face and a wicked looking tattoo swirled over his shoulder and part of the way down his arm. His chest was scarred, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine what had happened to him to cause such marks. Her gaze lowered, following the black smattering of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans, and all rational thought left her head as she noticed the sizable bulge behind his zipper.
“You’ve got some mighty friendly neighbors, Cade,” the man next to the Devil said, his smirk evident in the slow drawl of his voice. “She can’t take her eyes off you.”
Bayleigh felt heat flush her cheeks, and she brought her eyes back up to meet his. The keys bit into the palms of her hand reminding her she had them, so she tossed them to the walking hard-on a little harder than was probably necessary. He snapped them out of the air and glared in her direction, and the urge to turn tail and run was prevalent in her mind, but instead she turned around and calmly and put one foot in front of the other.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She knew it was him that spoke without having to turn around. His voice slid across her skin like rough velvet, and she shivered at the demand in it. Not that she expected the Devil to be an easy man or be without a modicum of power, but she liked to think she had enough self-control to ignore the dangerous seduction of his voice and keep walking.
She eyed the distance to her front door and looked back in his direction. He’d taken a couple of steps forward, and there was no way to get away from him if he came after her. He narrowed his eyes as if he could read her mind, and shook his head slowly, warning her not to try it, so she swallowed her fear and turned around to face him.
She was an idiot. Running would have been the smart thing to do if the look on his face was anything to go by. She could have made it. Maybe.
“Most of us sleep here in the middle of the night,” she finally said with more bravado than she felt. Never let them see you’re afraid. Her father had repeated the mantra constantly during her childhood. “I figured since it was your first day in the neighborhood, you might want to start out on the right foot.”
“You thou
ght wrong,” he said. “And this is far from the middle of the night. The sun’s already coming up. Maybe you’re just lazy.”
Bayleigh’s eyes narrowed at the insult. She’d never been accused of being lazy a day in her life. But while her father’s advice rattled around in her brain, something her mother always told her came to mind, just as it had every time she’d moved from school to school and had to deal with the inevitable “new kid” bullying.
Kill them with kindness.
So she smiled as sweetly as possible and said the only thing she could think of to strike terror into his heart.
“You know, there are a lot of elderly people that live on this street.”
“So?” he growled. “And then there’s you. Let me guess. You’re single?”
“I’ve been engaged,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“I can see that worked out well for you. I take it he couldn’t manage to bring himself to the altar?”
“Something like that,” she said softly, the old feelings of not quite being good enough surfacing before she could tramp them back down.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of line. I promise I’ll leave everyone on the whole damned street alone if they’ll leave me alone.”
Bayleigh felt the beginnings of a headache forming at the back of her skull. Between the lack of sleep and the one-two punch her new neighbor had just delivered, reminding her of her former fiancé and the myriad of inadequacies she hadn’t realized she’d had until she’d met him, she decided she wasn’t in the mood to be nice after all.
“Oh, no. No need to apologize. If anything it’s my fault for getting in at one this morning after working a fourteen hour day,” she said sarcastically. “It was inconsiderate of me to expect you to move in after the sun came up. Tell you what I’ll do to make it up to you.”
She smiled—a smile that her brothers would recognize as trouble. Her new neighbor must have recognized it too, because his eyes narrowed to black slits and the muscles in his arms bulged as he crossed them in silent warning.
