Prologue
Gabriele Walters stood by his brother’s bed and watched over him so he could get some sleep. He was having a rough night despite Brutas’s presence. The rescue dog had come as a great resource in helping Salvatore deal with his PTSD. But here and there, on nights like tonight when the wind was howling and the thunder and lightning so loud and violent, it brought back flashbacks to Salvatore. His brother was a Marine, as tough as they came. Just like him, Gabriele, Lucifer, and their other brother Maxwell also were in the service. But Salvatore was in a special unit and had experienced things that truly changed his personality.
He looked around the bedroom and at one of the older, original parts of their parents’ home. Gabriele and his brothers expanded it a few years back, wanting to update the old farmhouse and also make their place with enough room to accommodate all four of them and then some. The project helped them ease back into living in Pearl after so many years. They had bounced around a bit, and Maxwell got a job as a detective covering areas like Turbank, Keanter, and even Pearl. Remaining in their parents’ home and expanding it was an attempt to give them all peace, but especially Salvatore. They nearly lost him, and it was unbearable to think about just how many times they could have.
Gabriele took a deep breath and inhaled, then leaned forward to caress the rottweiler’s head. The dog, Brutas, was a lifesaver. He understood that Salvatore needed his guidance, his help in calming him whenever Salvatore became distressed. He wished there were more dogs available to give to every needy soldier out there who risked his life and future to protect everyone else. Maybe the dogs could help lower the number of suicides or self-inflicted wounds and could give those soldiers a second chance at life and feeling somewhat normal in society again.
Gabriele saw the change in Salvatore in between his last two tours. He looked angry, was combative and very somber and quiet. The day Salvatore left for what would be his last tour, Gabriele wondered if his brother would return. He also wondered when his brother did finally retire from the service like the rest of them had, if he would be okay, or if he would be a stranger.
They all went through the process of readapting to civilian life. Salvatore wasn’t the same soft-spoken man, ready to lend a helping hand to anyone in need. Instead he was distrusting, snappy, suspicious, and argumentative.
He was fighting the
disorder and trying to keep it a secret, and Gabriele, Maxwell, and Lucifer were guilty of allowing that. Perhaps because they were raised to be strong, capable men, and this disease, this psychological, physical, and emotional disorder, was something no man, no soldier wanted to admit to succumbing to.
Salvatore nearly killed himself, never mind poor Lindsey Tompkins, that night two years ago. Gabriele exhaled. But when he saw the lost, far-off look in his brother Salvatore’s eyes, and the fact that he held the gun in his hand prepared to take his life so he could end the nightmares, the outbursts of anger, he knew they couldn’t ignore it any longer. Then, there was the incident with Lindsey Tompkins. That had been the push they all needed to get Salvatore the help he required and deserved.
Salvatore hadn’t been with another woman since, and the rest of them went out of town to fulfill their needs. They didn’t want Salvatore to get angry or feel left out. They would all do anything to help him feel alive and loved again. But Salvatore just wasn’t budging. He could have killed Lindsey. Thank God they were all home, in their rooms, and heard her screams. Salvatore was stuck in a nightmare, having a flashback in his dreams. He thought Lindsey was the enemy as he held her by the throat, straddling her.
Gabriele, Lucifer, and Maxwell had to calm Salvatore down and help him out of the flashback and back to reality. Lindsey got the heck out of there and never spoke to Salvatore again. Lucifer even tried to talk with Lindsey to help her to understand that Salvatore was going through a tough time and that his therapist was working with him to gain control of the nightmares. But she didn’t want to hear it. Instead she said nasty things about him.
Gabriele remembered it all like it was yesterday. He remembered the anger, the heartache, and feeling out of control. His poor brother needed a miracle, some sort of help in dealing with his anger, his flashbacks, and his anxiety. Brutas was that miracle—a new beginning, and things were getting better and better.
They all still had trust issues, just like Salvatore. They had experiences in war they didn’t ever want to revisit. They kept to themselves, and did the jobs they each had in the community. The town of Pearl was their home.
A bolt of lightning struck and illuminated the bedroom for a moment. Gabriele looked at Salvatore, who just stirred a little as Brutas placed his face on the bed next to Salvatore.
Gabriele had a flashback. Ten troops went in and only four came out. Survivor’s guilt was another emotion to deal with after retiring from the service.
Yeah, they were all pretty fucked up, but they were together. The bond between brothers could never be broken. At least not the one between the four of them.
Chapter 1
It was so damn cold out. She shivered, grasping the lapels of the old sweater that had seen better days. She rocked on the soles of her feet in an attempt to infuse warmth into her ice-cold skin. She was chilled to the bone. Where the hell did these frigid temperatures come from? It was only September. At least that’s what Lucia believed it to be. She saw the yellow school buses coming and going early each morning for the last week. That was her only indicator of the time of year.
The room she rented from the Anderses was small and didn’t have a working television. It was on the side of a barn, yards from their main house, but it was still a room and provided a roof over her head. That was way more then what she had when she initially escaped South Carolina. Not that she could afford cable or a phone. Who would she call anyway? There was no one. Not a soul she wanted to speak to. What was the point? They would only put her down and try to make her tell them where she was. Derek fooled her parents. He had her mother wrapped around his finger and her father ready to hand over a dowry to a man who assaulted and raped his daughter.
It was rape. It was against my will. I was under the influence of the drugs Derek slipped me at the club. I begged him to slow down so I could get away from him, and he forced himself on me anyway.
She felt that sick, aching feeling in her gut. Lucia could still practically feel Derek’s hands on her and the pain of his strikes as he shook her then banged her head against the granite in his kitchen. The man was a monster. Plain and simple. Her parents never loved her or cared about her. They just wanted to control Lucia and make her into someone she wasn’t.
She remembered waking up in the hospital, wondering where the hell she was and why she was in so much pain. Especially down there and between her thighs. Though her mind was fuzzy and ached terribly from the concussion, her gut instincts, her sense of connection with her body and soul, told her that she was violated. As police and detectives came and went, asking the same questions and writing things down, she could barely keep conscious. She remembered Derek though. She remembered shuddering at his touch, seeing that manipulative expression as he created some story about her drinking, having a good time, and how someone must have put something in her drink. That triggered something in her head.
But no matter how hard she tried to remember, she couldn’t recollect a single thing. Not then. Not with the detectives when it could save her from such a despicable man and his agenda. No, she remembered days later. Or maybe it was weeks later, as she awoke in a cold sweat in her bed knowing that Derek had been the one to drug her, have sex with her, and then knock her around, giving her the concussion.
The sick bastard thought he had gotten away with it. She was enraged, scared, and she knew she needed to get away from him. He kept coming to the house, bringing her flowers, sitting by her bed, and talking to her about how he would take care of her and always be by her side.
After numerous nights of terrifying nightmares that revealed the truth about what happened, she decided that she needed to tell her mother. She needed to get out of South Carolina and away from Derek.
She was even more shocked at her mother’s response as she told her what Derek had done.
“He loves you, Lucia. He’s a good man.”
“No, Mom, he’s a monster. He gave me the drugs and slipped them into my drink. He raped me and then smacked me around as I tried to fight him off. It was he who banged my head and gave the concussion.”
Her mother shook her head and pacified her. “Sweetie, you’re lucky such a wealthy, respectable man who comes from a family like the McMillians even wants you. It’s not like you were a virgin. Be sensible here.”
“Be sensible? Are you out of your mind? He’s a monster and I want nothing to do with him.”
Her mom stepped forward as if she would strike her. Her black salon-styled hair and dark eyes bore into Lucia’s. She pointed her finger at her.
“You little witch. There’s a lot riding on this. You’ll do as I say, and you’ll marry Derek and bind our families. We’ll be one of the top three richest families in the United States, never mind in South Carolina.”
“He raped me,” Lucia stated with clenched teeth as her mom looked her over.
“Get over it. Sex is a tool—a power a woman has over a man and one thing she can give over to a man to make him feel empowered and invincible. For some reason, your body does it for Derek and he’s been obsessed with having you since he was a teen. This is your destiny, the purpose for you living. Don’t fuck it up. Your father and I worked hard to make this deal happen. You’ll marry Derek, you’ll have his child, hopefully a boy, and we’ll all be set for life. Now I don’t want to hear another lie about him raping you. He’s a wealthy, attractive man that any woman around here would love to have. Never speak of this again.”
Lucia cried her eyes out that night. She thought about her life, the decisions she made, and her own desires and plans for the future. She thought about the two parents she barely knew and who obviously loved money and power more than they loved her.
She was no debutante, not a rich snob who married into a family to tie them together or comingle to maintain a bloodline already tainted by lies and games of manipulation. Lucia learned who Derek really was and what he would expect from her as his wife. She would have rather died. Sometimes, she wished she had.
r /> She gulped the emotions combating her resolve to remain strong and put the past behind her. She got this far on her own and undetected. Texas was a bit of a trek from South Carolina.
She had become a hermit, kept to herself, and ignored engaging conversations with the locals because it was better that way. If she liked them and got close to them, it would only hurt worse when it was time to leave. It was bad enough she let her guard down with the Anderses.
They had come as a surprise to her, as well as the first indicator of what this town called Pearl may turn out to be like. One woman, Kelly, was married to three brothers, Dave, Shay, and Ron. Her guard had come up immediately, and she thought that perhaps this town wasn’t so perfect as it first appeared. She wasn’t about to escape one dangerous, life-threatening situation to wind up forced into some sort of Southern weird cult where men grabbed a woman and made her theirs. Or perhaps where one woman snagged a few men at a time and claimed them.
She chuckled. She had really freaked out a few months back when she first arrived here. But something made her stay. And someone. Mrs. Anders.
She was really nice, and offered Lucia a place to stay when she found out Lucia was all alone and only had a little bit of money. People in town recommended the women’s shelter, Second Chances, but Lucia’s pride got in the way. She figured that she came from a family that had money and always had things provided for her, or that she could work for herself. There were other people who had nothing and needed it more than Lucia. Being without wasn’t so bad. It helped her to see that the decisions she made that got her here were the right ones, even though she was cold, hungry, and scared.
Her mind was still frazzled and clouded even months after sustaining the head injury. She also would have flashbacks of the assault and close up, losing focus on what she was doing for a few minutes. She should have looked for a job immediately while the weather was still nice, but she was a bit intimidated by certain townspeople. Well, the men of Pearl actually. There were lots of them. They always seemed to be watching, and it put her on edge. Especially right now as she stared at the storefronts and wondered who may have a job opening to hire her. Her cash was getting low, and she needed to start working on that.
As Lucia began to ascend the hill and head toward the shopping center first, she saw the sheriff’s patrol truck. She kept her head down and held the sweater tighter as she waited for him to pass by so she could cross the street.
No such luck. Wyatt Cantrell stopped the patrol truck, placed it in park, and rolled down the window. He smiled softly at her, which was kind of odd for such a large, intimidating-looking man.
“Good morning, Lucia. How are you today?” he asked.
Her heart hammered inside of her chest. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and spoke softly, voice cracking and revealing how much of a mouse she really was.
“Good, Sheriff Cantrell. How are you?” she got out.
He looked her over, and she knew he would probably reprimand her for the sweater in such cooler fall temperatures. His wife Anna and her friends ran the women’s shelter. This time of year, they ran a coat drive and clothing was given to women and children in need.