Unleashed #3

by Callie Harper

  “I could bring you around the side entrance,” Vladimir offered.

  “Oh, yes, thank you,” I exhaled with relief. He must have seen the panic in my eyes. As we drove slowly past, the front entrance looked much worse than I’d imagined, with a literal red carpet up miles of stairs thronged with photographers. I’d never have made it up past the first step.

  The side door was much quieter, just a few uniformed men and a bitchy-looking woman all in black with her hair swept up and an earpiece like the secret service.

  “Name, please?” She eyed me disdainfully, holding a slim, silver iPad with what I figured was the guest list. No clipboard for this lady, only the latest issue Apple gadget would do.

  “Kara Brooks.” It came out in a whisper and I had to repeat myself over the emerging din of the party. Voices, glasses clinking, laughter, a string quartet. I wanted to vomit.

  “You may proceed.” She checked me off or whatever and stepped up to the next guests. She sure seemed to give them a warmer welcome.

  The minute I walked in I knew my hair was all wrong. Every woman I saw had their hair swept up in some kind of a glamorous twist. One woman had sticks poking out of her bun like skewers. I’d been a fool to leave mine down like I was headed to a parking lot kegger. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  Also, I didn’t see a single other woman in red. Silver, gold and lots and lots of black. I remembered a novel we’d read back in high school English class about an adulterous woman who’d had to wear the scarlet letter A on all her clothing. I felt about that scandalous and ostracized, standing there head-to-toe in scarlet.

  For a moment, I considered turning and running. I probably wouldn’t get very far though, not with the heels I was wearing plus the corset restricting my breath. What I wouldn’t have given for a pair of old cowboy boots, jeans and a t-shirt. Then I could have gotten the hell out of there.

  I needed to find Declan and I needed to find him fast. I should have texted him before I left the hotel room. After seeing toad man’s message though, I’d practically thrown the phone out the window. I had nothing with me but my hotel room key card and a $20 bill. Tucked into my corset, because I was that classy.

  But a text would have let Declan know I was on my way and he could have been looking for me. Under these high, ornate ceilings, staircases leading up and down and around, corridors and masterpieces hung everywhere I turned. I felt dizzy, like I was in Halloween fun house of mirrors. Everyone looked a little like Declan in impeccable black tuxedos, but no one actually was Declan.

  I accepted a slender flute of champagne from a waiter and faded back into a corner. I’d have less chance of finding Declan there, but at least I’d be less visible, too. I felt like the country peasant who’d snuck her way into Versailles. Stick figure models strut past, a couple of them casting cold glances in my direction. I probably ate more in a day than they did in a week.

  Where was Declan? Maybe I could head to the bathroom, that would give me something to do. And maybe I’d find him on the way. Laughing throngs and men with their hair slicked back and waiters with silver trays bearing unrecognizable tidbits surrounded me at every angle. I needed air.

  Around a corner, I finally broke free of it all. A bit secluded, away from the rest, I leaned against a wall, put my hands on my thighs and breathed. Slowly, carefully, just breathed. No sense in having a panic attack at the type of event people longed to attend. I had to get a grip.

  Once I stood up, things got much worse. I wasn’t alone in the corridor. Now I saw a couple much further down. At first I hadn’t noticed, I’d been too dizzy. But now I could make them out.

  The woman was Courtney, that much I could tell instantly. Her raven black hair matched her blacker-than-black gown, a diamond choker necklace unfortunately not quite tight enough as she still seemed fully alive and kicking. I didn’t know if I was making things up or if it really was the case, but I swore I could see her fingernails blood red as they made their way along a man’s back. A wide, broad back in a black tuxedo.

  The pit in my stomach formed fast and furious. I told myself to look away, but like a big rig wreck on a highway you didn’t want to look at it, but you almost always did. It probably wasn’t Declan. From this far away, I couldn’t tell. They weren’t in the brightest spot, tucked away in a dim corridor, a quiet corner. The kind of place you’d go for a romantic moment.

  Courtney saw me then, her eyes alighting on mine like a hawk’s. She splayed her fingers along his back and she lit up with a wicked, triumphant smile. It was then that I knew, without a doubt, the man was Declan.

  He turned slightly and I could make out his profile, the strong jaw, the stubble all gone from his recent shave back when he was in the hotel room with me. But now he wasn’t with me, he was with Courtney in a dark hallway far away from the throng, intimate and close.

  She fixed me with her stare as she twined her fingers in Declan’s thick, black hair. Then she looked up at him and leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t move, didn’t back away, didn’t shove her off of him like a disgusting maggot. No, he kissed her back.

  Then I looked away. There was only so much you could take. Reeling, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach, I somehow stumbled back into the party and toward the front entrance. Air, I needed air. I must have looked bad. A waiter asked me if I needed some help.

  “Out,” I managed looking toward the door. He took my arm and guided me to the doors. Once I got out into the warm night air, I didn’t stop. I ran down the steps and down the steps and down more steps. How many freaking steps were there outside the Met? Down at the street, I dove into a taxi cab. The driver didn’t seem phased. I guessed that was the up-side of New York: it took a lot more than a speeding bullet of a girl in a red ball gown to cause a scene.

  “Where to?” he barked in that New Yorker accent I’d found so entertaining and now wished I’d never, ever hear again. I gave him the name of the hotel and managed not to throw up until I got up into the room. I even made it to the bathroom. I was very proud of myself.

  Ripping off the dress and corset, I left them there on the bathroom floor. I wanted nothing to do with Declan Hunt, not the man, not the gown he’d bought me. I’d fallen in love, completely and utterly in love. I’d given myself to him in every way. And he was with another woman. I’d even told him I loved him, yelled it out merely hours ago. It hadn’t occurred to me until now that he hadn’t said it back. I’d told him I loved him and he’d said nothing in return. Stupid me, I’d taken his groan and thrust as a response in kind. To call me a moron didn’t begin to describe my idiocy. My glasses were so rose-colored they made me totally blind.

  I flung the glittering diamond and ruby necklace onto the vanity. Fuck him and his fucking jewels, flattering me and making me think I was hot shit. And I’d fallen for it all.

  Hot tears stained my cheeks but I splashed them away with cold, clear water. I didn’t have time for wallowing in self-pity. There’d be plenty of time for that in the future. But not now. I needed to get out of there, fast.

  This time around, I found my boots, jeans and t-shirt, too. Powered by humiliation and fury, I had everything on and stood ready to go in seconds flat.

  I paused at the door. Everything in me just wanted to dash, take off in the night and begin the complicated nightmare of forgetting any of this had happened. But I knew Declan wouldn’t let me go that easily. He’d proven he liked toying with me. He’d also shown he had no heart. I needed to end things and end them good to have any chance of really getting away.

  I decided to write a note. In a drawer, I found a pen and some hotel stationary. This had to be good. If I left any window open at all, he’d come after me and I knew myself all too well. He’d start talking and touching and before I knew it I’d be in it all over again, a sucker willingly placing my neck on the chopping block. No, this had to be convincing.

  It came to me quickly, and I wrote:

  Declan,

  Someone else has come through f
or me to help with the ranch. I don’t need you anymore. I’m terminating our contract a day early, so I do not hold you to your end of the bargain. You don’t owe me anything.

  Kara

  I left the note on a table with a shaking hand. Terrified he’d return before I left, I closed the door behind me, raced to the elevator and then down to the lobby. Heart racing, yet also strangely numb, I made it outside and a doorman hailed me a taxicab.

  In the car, I blew out the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. No crying, not yet. I had some things to take care of. I needed to buy a plane ticket and fly back to Montana. I had to get in touch with Lymon and sell him my ranch. Then I had to find somewhere else to live and start my life all over again.

  There’d be time in the future to feel everything, to hate myself, to dredge up memories of it all. How I’d told Declan I loved him. He’d grunted and come in me and I’d somehow interpreted that as, “I love you too, Kara. Would you like to spend the rest of your life with me?”

  Crushed, I shook with unshed tears and fury. I had to keep it together. I had a plane flight and a bunch of business to transact first.

  Sitting there in the dark, speeding to the airport, I made myself a promise. No more believing in fairy tales. From now on, I’d keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. I’d become the strong, independent woman I aspired to be, the kind who’d never have gone running to Declan in the first place. I’d look the truth straight in the face, brave and honest, no matter how grim my reality. I was done with the old Kara, sweet and dreamy, imagining rainbows and moonbeams where there was actually just plain mud.

  I’d embrace the truth, alone and fierce. I could do it. I knew I could. I just had to stay far, far away from Declan Hunt.

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading Unleashed: Hot Alpha Romance, Volume 3! I hope you loved it, and stay tuned for the next installment, the conclusion of the story!

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  Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next and final book in the Declan and Kara story, Unleashed: Hot Alpha Romance, Volume. 4. All four volumes of Unleashed are available now for purchase or preorder here.

  The final volume will be released on Friday, February 12th.

  UNLEASHED: HOT ALPHA

  ROMANCE, VOLUME 4

  The final installment of Unleashed.

  Bombs will be dropped.

  Declan

  I don't let things slip through my fingers. I clutch them to me fast and never let go. The more I desire something, the harder I drive to get it. I fight for what I want, and what I want is Kara Brooks.

  She wants to run away. I don’t blame her. It’s probably the smart thing to do.

  She can run, but she can’t hide.

  I don’t know how this is all going to end. But I do know that sh*t is about to go down. And when it goes down, it’s going to go down big.

  Kara

  I've let him break my heart. Twice. The first time I was 18. Back then, I could blame him. I was just a kid and he played games with my heart.

  Now, I have no one to blame but myself. Sometimes I think that's what hurts the most. Other times, I know that's not the worst. The worst pain of all comes from his betrayal.

  I have to move on. I need to focus on getting my life back on track, setting out far, far away from Declan Hunt. During the daylight hours, I know I have plenty to keep me busy.

  It’s the nights I’m worried about. How am I going to make it through all those long, dark hours when the memories of our scorching hot nights together are so close I can practically taste them? Every time I close my eyes, it’s his face I see, his fingers I feel, his heat making me quiver and moan. I should hate it, resent the power he still wields over me. Instead, I never want it to end.

  NOTE: Unleashed is a four-volume story launching the Beg for It series about the hot, alpha males in Declan's family and the battles they wage with the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.

  UNLEASHED: HOT ALPHA

  ROMANCE VOLUME 4

  Chapter 1

  Declan

  Had I not been so happy, I wouldn’t have let Courtney kiss me. She got a wet one in before I even registered what was happening.

  She’d lured me into a dark, quiet corner in the middle of the gala at the Met. She said she had something important to talk to me about. If I’d thought about it I’d have known what she was up to, but I didn’t. A smile on my face, I was focused on Kara, eager to see her in that gown, searching for her face in the crowd. She hadn’t arrived yet, but she would soon.

  Since the one person I wanted to see wasn’t there yet, I decided I could give Courtney two minutes. She was one demanding and relentless woman. The best way to get her off my back would be to give her a bit of my time. Otherwise, she might make a scene. I knew I could handle it, but why go there if you didn’t have to?

  Even as she led me back into the hallway, I kept scanning for Kara. I saw no sign. In the last twenty minutes I’d texted and called her but it had gone straight to voicemail. I knew she was fine, just taking her time getting ready, but patience wasn’t my strong suit. I couldn’t wait to see her in that gown with the diamond and ruby necklace I’d given her, and even better, later on stripped down to just the corset underneath.

  Courtney dragged me off into a shadowy corner with the subtlety of a tigress. I guess some guys got off on aggressive attack women. I wasn’t one of them. I was all for a woman who knew what she wanted, but this not-reading-my-signals, not-taking-no-for-an-answer bullshit wasn’t going to play. She wanted a piece of me and she wasn’t going to get it. That was final. I belonged to Kara. It was that simple.

  But even without Kara, I’d have no interest. Courtney wasn’t my type. She needed a himbo she could drag around to different socialite events. She didn’t need any man for his money, that was sure, she just needed some man candy who could pose for the cameras. There had to be a long line of interested candidates. I just wasn’t one of them.

  In the dark hallway she started talking real low so I had to lean into her. She faked picking something off of my lapel so she could touch me. I found it annoying, but didn’t really get pissed off until she planted one on me.

  Usually I would have seen it coming, ducked it like a punch in the ring. I knew how women like her worked. Usually, I had my guard up.

  But being with Kara had made me soft. I felt all smiley and shit, like I’d start humming any minute, my heart light. And so Courtney got her three seconds in heaven. Until I grabbed her around her boney shoulder and pushed her away, firm and clear.

  “Not going to happen.” I shook my head no.

  She looked too pleased as she said, “Suit yourself.” Shrugging, she walked off like getting rejected was no big deal. She was up to something, but I honestly didn’t have time for her games. Maybe I’d gotten off easy and she’d lost interest. Maybe she was off to find some other cowboy to ride for the month.

  It was time to stand up and address the guests, me and the rest of the philanthropic moneybags. I still found it funny to be counted as one of them.

  I’d figured Kara would have arrived by then. I remembered she didn’t have a lot of experience attending these sorts of events. She must be nervous. I cursed myself. I should have made arrangements to meet her. But there wasn’t time for that now.

  I got up on the podium, took the mic and said a generic word or two about the importance of the cause, the necessity of funding and improving services for children in the foster care system. I praised the event organizers and thanked all of the guests. Public speaking didn’t phase me. Easy as pie.

  What phased me was that I couldn’t see Kara. I kept searching for her face amidst the throng, but no luck. Afterwards, I had to work the crowd, shaking hands with this Rockefeller and that Astor, drinking a high ball with a DuPont and discussing bow hunting in Montana with a Vanderbilt. New York really knew how to pull out the ol
d money. You could always tell, too. Old money never looked as done up as new money. The pearls looked slightly worn, passed down over the generations. The older women might let themselves go grey. The younger ones never, ever flashed even a bit of cleavage. New money had giant fake boobs and perfectly veneered teeth, and new money was out to have a good time. They wanted to write you a big check right there in front of everyone. Old money would head home early. But the next day you’d get an even bigger donation, requesting anonymity.

  One classic old-money, silver-haired gentleman spoke to me with a sense of urgency about the cause. He clutched his cane with his boney hand and pierced me with his startling blue eyes as he talked about the plight of foster children and how many slipped through the cracks. He looked frail and somewhat sickly, but he spoke with passion. He wanted to know about my background and what had driven me to become such a dedicated supporter.

  Normally, I’d have given him more time. I appreciated the man coming out, especially since he honestly looked like he needed to be resting at home in bed. But it hit 10 o’clock and I had to excuse myself.

  Where the hell was Kara? She wasn’t responding to her cell phone and she definitely wasn’t at the party, I knew because in-between all the glad-handing and chitchat, I was prowling the premises like a panther. I called Vladimir and he confirmed that he’d dropped her off almost two hours earlier. Sometimes you needed to stay and host the huge gala benefitting your charity. And sometimes you needed to quit it and hit the road to make sure everything was OK with the one you loved.

  Almost at the door, another socialite shark cornered me. I could really use some sort of danger/warning system, maybe something that could cue the Jaws soundtrack so I could prepare myself prior to attack. In alcohol-soaked breathy tones, she clasped a boney claw to my bicep and told me she wanted to make a very special gift to my foundation. She wanted to discuss the terms in private. I’d heard she had recently finalized a divorce with husband number two. With a sigh and a few shreds of remaining protocol, I managed to steer her toward a more interested party so I could finally slip away into the night.