The Resurrection (Unlawful Men)

“I know.”

I withdraw, surprised. “What?”

“You think I’m leaving you here?” He laughs. “No. You’ll be safer at the mansion.”

My mouth falls open, my reality hitting me harder. “You’re not going to let me leave the house, are you?”

“Nope,” he says, straight up and completely unapologetic.

I swallow down the anger rising before it overcomes me and forces me into doing something really stupid. Like removing my rings. I’ve been free for three years, and he’s going to make me a prisoner again? Has he even thought about where this leaves me and my son? As far as Hilary and Derek are concerned, I live a peaceful, uncomplicated life here in St. Lucia with my normal husband, who they know only as “Danny.” I wake up each morning without fear. Without hurt. Without pain. My life is simple after endless years of agony. It’s exactly what I never dared dream it could be. Calm. Undisturbed. Safe. Going back to Miami won’t only risk Danny’s life and probably mine too, it could possibly destroy everything I’ve built with my son.

I wrench myself away from him and stand, furious. “Asshole,” I spit, storming away.

“I hate you too, baby,” he calls.

“Fuck off.”

3

JAMES

* * *

If I didn’t have a thirst for blood, I might be content staying here. It’s a far cry from the recent chaos of my life. It’s also surprisingly needed. A break from the bloodshed. A timeout from killing. A holiday I didn’t know I needed.

I strike the match and sit back, watching the wood burn down to my fingertip. I hiss and drop the cindered stick onto my naked thigh, blinking slowly as I flick it away and push my fingertips together, staring out at the water on a deep sigh. The ocean is calm, the sun blazing, casting blinding reflections across the still planes. There’s no breeze. Everything is so . . . still. So quiet.

It’s the calm before the storm, but I must delay the storm. Entering a war with this much restrained hatred within wouldn’t be wise. I’ve always operated on resentment. Let my fury be my fuel, but only I had been at risk of being hurt. Now, I have Beau, and I would’ve had our baby too, if she hadn’t been shot.

I shift in my chair, gulping back my anger, dampening its power. The Bear’s demise was always going to be grisly after he ordered the death of my family. Now he’s taken a part of my future. My skin tingles with a need that puts all previous needs to shame. I’ve lost count of the ways I’m going to kill him.

Just as soon as I find out who the fuck he is.

I was certain the safety deposit box would hold the answer. Was so sure Beau’s mum had figured it out and put his name away for safekeeping. Along with mine. The box was empty. And we have the only key.

The Bear knows what I look like—he knows the name behind The Enigma—but he still doesn’t know who I really am, or why I’ve spent years hunting him and his men. I look forward to enlightening him when I can look into his eyes. Or am I wrong? Does he already know? The safety deposit box.

We’ll soon find out.

When I figured out The Brit wasn’t dead, my next moves quickly fell into place. I don’t feel guilty for dragging Danny from the grave, because I didn’t drag him. He’s been dug up by a mutual nemesis. A nemesis he’s going to help me kill.

A thrilling shiver courses through me. Control it.

I look over my shoulder to the voile drapes hanging in the doors to the bedroom. Not until Beau is better. Stronger. It could be awhile. Her physical injuries will take weeks to heal, but the emotional damage? I’m not sure she can ever get over it.

I rise from my chair and go to the doors, pulling the drapes aside. She’s still curled on her side, snoozing. Always so tired. Drained. A shadow of the woman I met, which is an achievement on Beau’s part, because back then she was a whisper away from losing herself completely. Our whirlwind affair brought her into the light. Shady light, but light nonetheless. Now, I feel like I’ve pushed her back to the verge of complete darkness. I have to find her again. This isn’t just about me and my need for vengeance anymore. It’s about retribution for Beau. For the loss of her mother at the hands of the man who wiped out my family. And it’s about us being able to move forward without our demons suffocating us.

I pad over to the bed and crawl on behind her, slipping my arm over her waist, being careful of her wound and the cast on her arm. I get as close as I’m comfortable with, which isn’t close enough. I push my mouth to the back of her head and breathe in, closing my eyes. Finding my calm.