When the crazed killer took her, Curtis broke the law and killed a man to save her. He pulled the trigger and watched him hit the ground. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d spewed so much venom on the two people who loved him that it made him ache inside.
He’d given up everything for his marriage, believing that once you said ‘I do’, you didn't quit. Now he was alone. Gone was his partner.
His family.
His heart.
Nothing he did for her was good enough.
Brynn wanted more, and Curtis wasn’t quite sure he had what she needed. What they should be doing was counseling. He was pretty sure that if she’d go with him, they could fix this.
It had to be repairable.
After all, a marriage worked if you nurtured it.
Right?
When he called to check on her it was because he was thinking about his wife. When he left cute texts, it was all out of love for the woman he gave his heart to those months ago. Who hated heart shaped pancakes for breakfast on the weekend?
Apparently, Brynn.
Now he was waiting for any sign of her feeling anything for him. If she did, they could make it work. Their hasty, drunken marriage wasn’t a mistake.
It couldn’t be.
Heading into the spare room he was now calling his own, Curtis stared into the mirror. His face was mired with misery, and a couple days’ worth of stubbly beard. He wanted to shave, but he didn't have the heart.
In fact, he didn't feel like doing much of anything anymore. The last two days, he’d tried to reach her, and when she wouldn’t even give him a chance, he’d turned to his mistress.
Booze.
It dulled the pain.
It numbed his ache.
It helped him forget everything he’d given up and lost in his ill-timed rage.
Only, it didn't help. Every day, following his bender, he was reminded how pathetic he was when he stared at his reflection. He wasn’t kidding anyone--including himself.
As he touched his cheek, all he saw was age and the pain of a man so much older than him.
This whole thing was killing him.
How was it possible?
How could the one thing he craved his whole life be destroying him? Love was supposed to fill you with peace, not rot away everything inside your soul.
He was breaking.
No. He was broken.
Curtis had to turn away before he smashed his fist into his reflection in the glass. It wasn’t easy.
God! He hated his life.
He focused on getting dressed to abate the anger brewing in his gut. Despite the sucky life he was forced to live, he still had to go to work. They had bills, and if she wouldn’t let him be her partner in life, he’d at least be the man of the house.
He’d fulfill his financial obligation.
It was all he had left, and he knew it. He was just a wallet to her, and he was pathetic enough to allow it.
My how the mighty had fallen hard.
Curtis tried to find calm beneath the raging storm. At least he’d head to work and find a smiling face. His new partner would lighten the load for the time being. Thank God he still had that friendship. For the last two months, he’d been teamed up with Agent Tessa Brass.
She was a gem, and Doctor Paris Archer was one hell of a lucky man.
She didn't invade his privacy.
She didn't ask about Brynn.
Tessa always had an encouraging word to cheer him up. Plus, most importantly, she never brought up the ‘C’ word in front of him. Croft was no longer in his vocabulary.
It wasn’t just him. It was all of them. You could add Emma and Dante to the list too.
Curtis liked his partner because she didn't pry, and that was what he needed right now.
“I can’t give up,” he muttered, tucking his shirt in before he buttoned his dress pants. When he reached for a tie, his hand paused as he almost picked the one Brynn had given him for his birthday. It had been only two weeks ago, and it spoke volumes to their relationship.
Who gives their husband of two months a tie? Where were the sexy strip shows, the lingerie to make him drool, and the copious amounts of lap riding? Wasn’t that the appropriate gift for your husband’s big day?
Not in his world.
He got an ugly tie.
That had been his first sign that something bad was brewing. It pissed him off that the only person he could ask was the one man who now hated his guts. While he was pathetic, Curtis wouldn’t crawl--not yet.
He punched the wall, leaving a dent.
Then he opted to skip the tie. Instead, he slipped into his gun harness, and holstered his weapon. For a brief second, he hesitated, his fingers lingering on the grip as ugly thoughts filled his mind.
It scared him.
Was he really capable of doing that?
He had to shake his head to free himself from the ugliness. Curtis didn't know who he was, or why he was becoming this soulless human being.
All he knew was he had to fix it.
Tonight, when Brynn came home from work, he’d be waiting. When she got there, they were going to talk. If he had to break the locks on all the doors, he was going to do it. There wasn’t going to be a place she could hide in their home.
He couldn’t give up.
It wasn’t in him.
Curtis didn't want to be a failure. He didn't want to lose his wife of two months.
He was better than that.
There had to be something that Brynn saw in him that was redeemable.
Right?
When the going got tough, you manned up and took care of business, and that was exactly what Curtis was going to do. He was going to get to the bottom of this mess, if it was the last thing he ever did.
* * * Croft & Croft * * *
Across Town
Sky Villa
Greyson Croft woke to his wife wrapped around his body. Her hair was twisted around his arm, and her lithe frame was splayed across his. The mingling of their scents gave him that tingly feeling that he’d come to crave.
It was addictive.
There was no better way to wake up than like this. With every passing day together, it never got old. It was like the first time, every time.
Frankly, he was grateful too.
After everything that had happened in the last two months, he always had that one rock in his life.
It was his Emma.
She anchored him.
When they found out that Randall Mason left them more money than God, they didn't panic. She helped keep him calm as they figured out what to do with it. Life had changed in that moment, but one thing remained the same.
Them.
This was just proof to him that they had what it took to make it. That chance meeting in Celestia wasn’t a fluke. Emma was meant to be his wife.
Their love was eternal.
Greyson believed that no matter what, Emma would always be his, and he was one lucky man. Most women would run when the shit hit the fan, but not his girl. She was tough, tenacious, and didn't leave his side. In fact, when the chips were down, Vegas didn't stand a chance. His fiery redheaded kitten dug in and stood by his side.
It was a good thing because without the love of a good woman, you were screwed.
Yes, they had money.
Correction--technically, Emma had more money than God, but it didn't change them. Yes, they could afford anything they wanted, but the funny thing was--they still didn't buy anything.
Well, that was a lie.
They opted to keep Randall Mason’s house, and instead of moving in as it was, they were remodeling it. The place was big, secure, and it could work for them.
What Croft wouldn’t say out loud was that he was making it a strong hold in their new empire. When the renovations were done in the next couple days, they’d be heading there to live.
At first he wanted to sell it, but Emma couldn't let it go. She wasn’t ready, and who was he to tell her no? Emma wo
rked just as hard as he did, and she deserved to have some say in where they resided.
So, Greyson, like always, took over and stepped in. By the time the place was done, he was going to have the ‘Fort Knox’ of homesteads. There was high-tech security, round the clock eyes on the place, and even windows and doors no one could get through.
Yeah, he was going there.
If anyone thought they could attack them in their home, they had a big surprise coming.
Greyson went as far as to hire them a Russian bodyguard.
It would be so much easier to have Dimitri Gideon and his band of deadly gypsies watching their backs. While he didn't trust Emma’s life in anyone’s hands but his, he at least knew Dimitri was getting paid, and that often spoke volumes.
Hell, he could have all of the money if he wanted it. Emma’s safety was paramount. That was the bottom line.
The last two months had been exhausting. Who could blame him for being over the top?
Mob men.
Russian killers.
A corruptor.
Plus the work situation.
It was enough to make anyone crazy. Croft really needed a vacation, and he was pretty sure Emma was going to need one too. In all honesty, he’d be glad when it was all over. Then they could move on.
Whether it was going to be in Vegas, or some quiet castle in Ireland, he’d yet to make up his mind. After all this, they were ready for the new phase in their lives.
Hopefully, it would be one where no one was trying to kill them. It was getting old that they were wearing targets on their foreheads.
Damn old!
Over the last few weeks, so much had changed, and Greyson was looking forward to some normalcy. Yes, they still had to worry about the entire corrupt city of Vegas closing in on them, and they still had to stress how everyone thought they were totally crooked, but at least their marriage was rock solid.
Oh, and they had their family.
For a while, Greyson doubted the circle would be the same, especially after the man he called brother had opted to bite the hand that fed him.
But he was wrong.
While Curtis and Brynn had opted to move on, leaving them behind, Dante and Steele hadn’t. There were still people in their lives who they could rely on. Dante had finished his reserves tour, and he was done with the military. He was ready to start his life with Steele Bentley by his side.
Over the last two months, the four had become closer. So much so, that they gave Dante an important job.
Someone had to manage the Randall Mason empire. Honestly, Emma was too busy being a detective, and Greyson was tied up with being the head Fed in the city.
They couldn’t hand that kind of power over to just anyone, so they picked a trusted ally.
Dante was running it all.
And he was doing a great job too! Who knew the man would excel at being a Vegas power player?
Certainly not his big brother.
He was driving it like he stole it and making them even more money.
That amused all of them.
How much money did two people need?
When he told them he’d made them a million dollars, they did the only thing they could. They gave it to him.
The look on his face was priceless. The ex-soldier didn't know what to do.
Greyson loved spreading the wealth around. If his brother was going to work for him, he was going to reap the reward of loyalty. Had Curtis stuck around, remembering that family was all you had in life, he would have been set for life too.
It was his loss.
Screw him.
Yeah, that anger was still there.
Greyson forced himself to let it go. He had to. That was then, and this was now. He had ninety nine problems, and Curtis wasn’t one of them--not anymore.
Wealth brought about its own issues, and they had to handle them. Their lives were under the microscope.
They kept up the normal donations Randall had set up, made their social appearances, and tried to act like they knew what the hell they were doing.
It wasn’t easy.
It was just odd to have a limo driver at your disposal, and a fleet of people waiting for you at the new home.
What were they going to do with a maid and chef? When Emma fired the man who was Randall’s personal assistant, there was a weight off her shoulders.
Croft saw it in her eyes.
She really didn't need someone picking out her clothes. Greyson already did that, and he was paid in sex. It was the best salary he could get, and he wasn’t sharing that perk.
Not now and not ever.
Honestly, the chef wasn’t going to have a long shelf life either. Greyson gave Emma about two days before she fired him. She liked to cook and having someone make her food was going to get on her last nerve.
He was kind of looking forward to watching that go down. Greyson was sure it would be a spectacle. Once it was done, and Emma was the bad guy, Greyson could celebrate.
He already had it planned.
It was hard to molest your woman in the kitchen when a chef popped in and out. When they were ‘help’ free, the games were going to begin.
Needless to say, once they moved into Terrace Glen, as the place was named, the fun would begin. A new chapter would start, and they were going to have Dante and Steele with them. The place was huge, and they didn't want to be there alone.
They liked having their ‘children’ around.
It was crazy, but they loved every second of it. There was nothing like noisy dinners where the brothers argued sports, or when Steele and Emma talked engagements.
It gave them all a sense of belonging, and he loved it.
This family was his to protect, and Dante and his boyfriend were part of it.
Screw the world.
Let them talk.
They were a force to reckon with, and he didn't give a shit about the gossip. He had love.
Speaking of which…
When Emma shifted, stirring against him, Greyson couldn’t help but watch her. They’d been married just over a year, and he still found that amazing. All his life, he’d wanted a woman who accepted him for who he was, and he’d gotten one.
His wife was his universe.
From the coppery red hair, to the emerald green eyes, he was at peace when she was by his side.
“Morning, kitten,” he whispered, as she stretched alongside him as she woke.
“Mmmmm, Greyson,” she said, practically purring. “How did you sleep?” she asked.
“Like a rock. It seems my bold kitten wore me out when I came to bed.” He glanced around the room at their strewn clothes. It had been a battle.
He’d won.
She grinned wickedly before sliding over his body to straddle him.
Okay, maybe she’d been the real victor.
The warmth of their bodies mingled, pulling a moan from him. “Let’s quit our jobs and do this all day,” he offered. “You can crawl all over me, and I’ll be your willing pillow.”
Emma grinned. They’d had this conversation before.
“Sure, babe. You turn in your resignation, and then I’ll be right behind you.”
For two months, her husband had been trying to get her to leave her job for the safety of their home. It hadn’t worked yet, and it probably never would.
Emma loved her job. At one time, she never believed she could be a homicide detective again, but she’d been wrong. Emma was tougher than she thought.
She was back and stronger than ever.
In fact, she was currently buried in a case.
“Don’t you trust me, Em?” he asked, silver eyes twinkling in mischief. “You can quit first.”
She laughed. “No. I don’t, and you’re full of shit, Greyson Croft.” She punctuated it by sliding her naked body across his taut one. Someone was rock hard and ready.
It thrilled her.
Greyson couldn’t resist touching his wife. Slowly, he slid his hands up her torso to
tickle her. When she was caught off guard and started laughing, he rolled trapping Emma beneath him. When she couldn’t escape, only then did he kiss her.
Their lips met.
Tongues glided.
Fingers wandered, each finding a home in the other person’s hair.
“Oh, Grey,” she whispered, when he finally surfaced for air. “I love you. Marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
His heart kicked in his chest. Greyson needed that confirmation. He never wanted to lose her. Everything else could fall away, but not his Emma.
She was his all.
“I love you too.”
Emma addressed the pink elephant in the room. “We could have sex now,” she began as he rubbed his lower body against hers, “but then I’ll be late for work. How about we opt for breakfast, and meet back here for lunch?”
He lifted a brow. “What’s on the menu?”
“Well, you might like to know that someone’s toys arrived from the catalog yesterday. Maybe there’s something to satisfy your hunger. I’m sure it won’t be a quickie, so cancel your one o’clock--just in case we run over.”
Croft grinned ferally. “I know what you ordered, so yes, I’ll be here. I can’t wait to tie up my kitten and have my wicked way with her.”
Emma felt her body temperature soar. Lately, her sexy husband had been dropping clues about kicking up their bedroom sex. It was scorching hot, so she was pretty sure the things she picked out would melt the paint off the walls.
She was a lucky girl.
“I can’t wait. I hope you’ve been practicing your knots, Mr. Croft. I’ll pretend to be your secret lunchtime liaison, but we have to get ready for work.”
“I can do anything I want?” he asked.
Emma grinned. Then she whispered something in his ear. It was so dirty and outrageous, that he stared at her.
“Jesus! That’s on the table too?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, but now I have to get to work. If I’m late, and I try and cut out early, my partner will know you’re getting your kink on.”
He didn't care. Greyson genuinely liked her new partner. Mace Bristol was a damn good cop, and he was also a friend.
“Let them talk,” he stated, grinning like a kid.
Hell Is Burning Page 3
