Payback

Chapter 1

Cason

Strawberry blonde hair twisted in a messy bun, tiny tendrils escaping to frame a soft jaw.

Dark-rimmed glasses perched on her nose as she turned a page, oblivious to the busy world around her.

Drenched in sunlight on the campus lawn.

And the sweetest hips and tits I'd ever seen.

I smiled. Target acquired.

"When?"

A single question.

"Tonight," I answered, continuing to watch. Something about her reaching inside and twisting my nuts so hard I could barely breathe.

"Why not now? Let's get it over with," my buddy Tito Sanchez countered, impatient, twitchy. "This place makes me want to take a shit. Bunch of over-privileged assholes, you know what I mean?"

I smiled briefly, my eyes never leaving her.

"Nice to meet you, Holly Brannon," I murmured, firing up my '73 'Cuda. The vintage muscle car growled, the torque shaking the frame with barely contained brute strength. "Now I know why your brother has been hiding you all this time."

"She's hot," Tito observed, adding, "Nice and thick, too. Enough meat to hold onto."

I agreed. Holly was an unexpected surprise.

A gift hand-delivered and placed right at my feet.

Perfect for my plans.

Holly had no idea I was the predator and she was the prey.

Recently, I discovered that Butcher Brannon, leader of the Ice Town Rebels, had a little sister he'd been trying to keep secret.

But the thing about secrets was that eventually, someone talked.

And that's exactly what happened when I started applying pressure to one inside Brannon's inner circle.

It's amazing how quickly people talk when extreme pain was involved.

Which brought me to this private college campus, away from the city, away from the dirt and grime, shit and piss that people like Butcher and myself often called home.

"So what's the plan?" Tito asked. "Slap her around a bit? Maybe have a little fun? I wouldn't mind getting a look at those soft titties."

I cast a sharp look at Tito, instantly fighting a growl that came out of nowhere. The girl was mine. She didn't know it yet but I did.

Don't ask me how I knew.

Tito raised his hands. "Hey man, chill. I was just playing around. You got a plan?"

Yeah, and it was simple.

Holly lived in a small apartment complex, bottom floor, not far from the campus.

Each night she walked alone to her place, after spendi

ng hours in the library.

I couldn't imagine what anyone could possibly do for that long in a place filled with nothing but books.

I hated to read.

I'd been watching her for days; I knew her pattern.

I was a bonafide stalker.

But I would do anything to brutalize Butcher's soft spot.

Even break a pretty young thing like Holly.

The 'Cuda rumbled down the road, away from the campus, a shark prowling.

Soon, Holly.

Soon.

Chapter 2

Holly

My senses pricked, sending the hair on my arms rioting as if a cold breeze had licked my skin but it was practically ninety degrees today, almost too hot to be sitting in the sun.

I rubbed at my arms, noting the pinking of an impending sunburn and sighed. Once again, I'd lost track of time.

That happened more times than not.

But burying my nose in a book was my preferred relaxation of choice.

With finals breathing down my neck, I needed every moment of quiet I could get.

There it was again, that sense that I was being watched.

Ridiculous, I know. Too many late-night movies and buttered popcorn.

But for the past week, I couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on me.

Cataloging my every move.

A shaky laugh escaped as I realized how patently ridiculous it was to fear such a thing.

No one was paying any attention to me.

I was the invisible girl here on campus.

I didn't fit in — I didn't want to fit in — I just wanted to get my degree and move on.

I didn't even want to come here but my brother had insisted.

Seeing as he was paying for my tuition, I wasn't in a position to argue.

But Cornwall University was filled with people I had nothing in common with -- and loneliness was something that'd come along with me when my brother had sent me off.

It was also something I was used to.

My brother had always paid for my schooling, starting from boarding school all the way to university.

Of course, he was a lot older than me.

We shared the same daddy, different moms.

At least that was the story. I was too young to remember. All I'd ever known of my family was Butcher.

I suppose he felt some familial responsibility to take care of me even though we were practically strangers.

His answer had been to ship me off, as soon as I was old enough.

So in the library was where you'd always find me.

With my nose in a book, ignored by everyone else around me.

Books were my sanctuary, my friend, my solace.

But sometimes I wished that I wasn't quite so invisible.

That maybe...there was someone out there who saw more than the shy girl who probably enjoyed chocolate ice cream too much and whose idea of a good time involved snuggling on the sofa watching a rom-com together.

Someone who could look past the fact that my brother, James “Butcher” Brannon ran one of the most notorious street gangs in New York.

Yeah. Right.

Now you know why I kept to myself.

Books were safer.

Chapter 3

Cason

It happened quickly.

Taller than her by almost six inches, it was easy to get behind her, arm locked around her neck, chloroform-doused rag over her nose.

One sharp inhale and she was out.

I hoisted her into my arms and carried her to the car where Tito bound her hands and stuffed a gag in her mouth.

Five minutes, in and out.

No one saw the shadow tailing her on the bike trail, no one saw me overtake her.

The girl really should've been more careful.

The world was filled with monsters and perverts.

"So you really think this is going to work?" Tito asked as we barreled out of the quaint college town that was filled with enough preppy pricks to populate a John Hughes movie. "What if Butcher doesn't give a shit about his sister?"

I cast Tito a knowing look. "The man went out of his way to ensure that no one knew about her. He tucked her away like a princess in an ivory tower. He wouldn't have gone to so much trouble if he didn't give a shit. Trust me...he cares."

A slow smile followed.

It was an inspired fucking plan.

Kidnap baby sister, show Butcher that he wasn't the only one who could make a mess of people, and then use the girl to make Butcher pay for what he'd done.

I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way.

Chapter 4

Butcher

I let the paper drop to the desk, satisfied with current progress.

“Her finals are next week. Grades are good. She should graduate with honors.”

“Excellent,” I grunted with approval. My little Holly was all grown up.

Finally.

And I was proud of her accomplishments as if they were my own.

Mostly because I took full credit for making them possible.

“Make preparations to bring her home. I want the house prepped, her bedroom ready. This will be a special occasion.”

A low hum of happiness found its way to my mouth in the form of a smile. A rarity for me.

So rare that Johnny found it unnerving.

“You okay, boss?”

“Better than ever. All my plans are finally coming to fruition.”

“What if she…doesn’t share your goals.”

My smile faded. “She will.”

Johnny was being a killjoy.

“Leave that to me, she’ll come around,” I said, confident. “Besides, once she realizes that this is her life…she’ll learn to embrace it.”

Johnny’s short nod told me, he wasn’t so sure but he wasn’t going to argue with me because he liked being able to use his tongue.

Holly was willful, but I liked that about her.

Beneath that shy, quiet exterior, beat the heart of a woman who simply needed a firm hand.

I was that person.

I’d waited so long for this moment. The next two weeks would be agony.

I was so close.

Holly, my sweet Holly, you’re coming home.

Chapter 5

Holly

My head ached, a sour taste clung to the back of my throat. I tried to move. A moan escaped as I discovered my hands and feet bound tightly, the rope chaffing the skin. Panic threatened. My gaze darted to my surroundings.

I didn’t recognize anything in the cramped room. It smelled as if it hadn’t been cleaned — ever.

A combination of motor oil, pizza, beer and things best left unsaid assaulted my nose. A weak cough tickled my throat.

I tried to remember what’d happened but my memory was foggy at best.

Books.

Paula, the campus librarian had reserved the book I’d been searching for, and had it waiting for me. I remembered being so excited to get home to read. I wasn’t paying attention but I knew the path so well, I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings.

Butcher was always telling me to watch myself.

Of course, this would happen to prove him right.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the pounding making mincemeat of my brain. I’d been kidnapped. That was the only answer.

Kidnapped by a hoarder, apparently.

I struggled to focus my vision, which kept crossing like marbles kicked across a room.

I struggled to a sitting position, using abs that I’d forgotten about, and found myself on a dingy plaid sofa, the scratchy ‘70s era fabric nearly disintegrating beneath me.

Using my teeth I tried tugging at my bindings. My fingers were cold from lack of circulation.

The door opened and I sucked back a gasp.

A tall man, broad like a linebacker, apprised me as if he were assessing my value.

His dark hair, too long with a bit of curl, was just this si

de of sexy bed-head, but his slate gray eyes looked chipped from ice.

A slow smile curved cruelly sensual lips.

My breath caught in my chest as my heart beat erratically.

Electricity snapped between us, forging an unlikely connection that both horrified and fascinated me.

I’d lived a sheltered life. My brother, Butcher, was insufferably protective. If he could’ve put me in a plastic bubble, he would’ve.

Right about now, I wished I’d paid better attention to his constant fussing.

“What do you want?” I asked, going straight to the point. Perhaps by feigning bravery, I could bluff my way out of this.

Not that this man could be bluffed.

His eyes zeroed into my soul.

Picking at the tender parts as easily as a bird speared its prey.

That steady smile returned, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I want you,” he answered, coming toward me. “Isn’t that obvious?”

I shrunk against the sofa cushion, trying to disappear but there was no escaping him. He leaned in and bracketed me with both arms, trapping me between muscle and bone.

“Why?” The tremulous question did little to bolster my attempt at bravery but then I’d never been a badass. “I’m no one.”

He caressed my cheek with a roughened knuckle. “Oh, you’re wrong about that, sweetheart. You’re everything I need.”

Why did that statement both thrill and terrify me?

I didn’t know him.

But there was something about him that stole my ability to breathe. There was a word for this: stupidity.

He was everything I’d never have the opportunity to experience.

Hard as granite, each muscle, rigid and roped, a body that promised bad things in the best way and a dangerous attitude that practically screamed “heartbreaker” in shrill tones — the kind of man women dreamed about in their darkest fantasies but never spoke about.