CHAPTER 1
RONI
“BREAKING NEWS; at 4:38 pm this afternoon, Dominic Garcia, head of the Breakers Flats Black Widows escaped Longview Maximum Penitentiary for Men. He was last seen heading west towards Bellevue Springs.”
A mug shot appears on the television and I stare at it with wide eyes, my heart racing a million beats an hour as I strain to hear the reporter over the loud pulsing in my ears. “Dominic is responsible for the gang war that hit the streets between Breakers Flats and Blaxlands Grove nearly seven years ago, resulting in multiple deaths, one being the leader of the West Side Wolves, Mikhail Russo. Along with charges of theft, possession of a deadly weapon, and assault. It is safe to assume that Dominic is armed and dangerous.”
My hand covers my mouth as I try not to scream. This can’t be happening. I was supposed to be safe. I still had three and a half years before he was out. Three and a half years before I had to run. This wasn’t part of my plan.
What am I supposed to do?
He’s coming for me. There’s no doubt about it. I know it right down in my soul.
The reporter continues, her face draining of color, almost as though the thought of Nic being out of prison is the scariest thing she’s ever encountered. She’d be right. She should be terrified. The whole fucking city should be. “Tonight, police are searching far and wide to get this dangerous criminal back behind bars where he belongs. This is a public service announcement. If you see him, do not approach, do not communicate, and do not allow him into your homes. I repeat, do not engage with this man. Flee to safety and call your local police department as soon as possible.”
The screen flashes to footage of a white transport van leaving the prison, merging onto the highway, and speeding through traffic to get away. His mug shot appears again, and I suck in a breath. It’s as though I’m staring straight into his eyes. I find myself hitting pause, unable to look away from his face. It’s the face of my nightmares, the face that has held me captive for nearly twelve years.
I was a different person at sixteen, naive and stubborn. If I knew the hell that Dominic Garcia would rain down over me, I'd have stayed far, far away. But I was a girl and he was more than just a boy … so much more.
The minutes tick by with me sitting on my couch, staring at the screen, and taking in his face. It’s just as I’ve always remembered. He hasn’t aged a day in the seven long years since I saw him last. Though, there’s a very real possibility that this is an old mug shot. I’m sure he’s taken his fair share of mug shots over the years.
I go over everything that the reporter just said.
He was last seen heading west towards Bellevue Springs.
My heart races faster.
Bellevue Springs has been my home for the past nine years. I've worked here, thrived here, started a new life here. I live just outside of Bellevue Springs as only the rich and famous can afford to live there, but it doesn’t mean this isn’t my home.
And now he’s coming.
I shoot to my feet, panic surging through me.
He could be heading this way to see his friend Ocean and meet her baby, Storm. I’ve kept up with her all these years, and she’s become a great friend. The way she survived all the bullshit she went through was admirable, but a part of me has always wondered if I kept her close because of her connection to Dominic. Though she never knew about Nic and me, no one did. He was my best-kept secret, which is what makes this so dangerous. I'm screwed if Nic comes for me; no one would know where to look.
Nic promised that he would always come for me, and now that he’s got nothing else holding his attention, I’m all he has left.
If I knew this was how it was going to end … fuck. I never would have gone there. But Nic is Nic. He’s always been so charismatic, so charming, and devilishly handsome. He comes armed with a grin that could tear any woman’s panties right off her body, and he’s only gotten better with time. He has more tattoos than I remember, but fuck, they’re my weakness.
Dominic thrives on the chase; it’s his addiction. He loves having a target to focus all of his attention on. Without it, he'd be running rampant, and no one could stop him—not even his crew. He’s a fucking psychotic killer looking for his next hit, and my name just appeared at the top of his list.
Don’t ask me how I know; it's just a feeling, and so far, my gut has never let me down. My brother taught me two things in life; to punch first, think later, and to always trust your gut. I know I haven’t seen him in at least five years, but I’m not in the business of forgetting important life-saving lessons.