Prologue
Carly Shay heaved against the ropes that held her prisoner. The rough hemp cut into her wrists, making her bleed even more and the wooden chair that she was tied to shuddered as she jerked and twisted. Her hair fell into her face as she screamed, “Don’t! Stop!” Tears streaked down her cheeks. “Please, I am begging you, don’t hurt him anymore!”
But the men kept up their attack. Not on her, not now. She wasn’t the target right then.
Ethan was.
Ethan Barclay. The man who’d been her only friend on most days—and the man she’d secretly loved for the last two years.
But Ethan was on the floor, and four of Quincy’s goons—Quincy Atkins, a man who truly had to be the devil—were beating him.
Was Ethan still moving? Still alive?
“Please!” Her cry was both a plea and a scream. “Stop hurting him!”
Quincy stepped forward. A big, hulking man. He hurt me. So much. But…she slammed the door on that thought. She couldn’t go there, not right then. She couldn’t remember all that he’d taken from her. The memories would come later, she knew that.
Right then…she just had to help Ethan. He’d come to save her, but if she didn’t do something, soon, he’d be the one to wind up dying.
Quincy Atkins was a crime boss who pretty much ran D.C. Terrifying. Psychotic. And he wanted her.
What Quincy wanted, he took.
Don’t remember. Don’t. Focus on Ethan.
Because Ethan’s golden eyes had just met hers. She could see that he was gathering his strength. Preparing for an attack.
Ethan. Twenty-one years old. A fixture on the D.C. streets. He’d always watched her back. Always looked out for her. She knew the whispers—the stories that said Ethan was turning into just as much of a criminal as Quincy. That Ethan was even gunning for Quincy but…
Those stories were wrong. Ethan was good. He was her friend. He’d risked his life for her. She didn’t care what anyone else thought of him.
Ethan is good…
But if she didn’t stop Quincy, Ethan would be a dead man.
As she watched, Quincy motioned for his men to leave the room. Relief made her a little dizzy. Maybe he’ll stop now. Maybe…
But as soon as the others were gone, Quincy took a knife from the sheath at his hip. ‘I’m gonna cut Loverboy open,” Quincy announced, his voice cold and cruel. “Then you’ll be mine. Body and soul. I’ll own every inch of you…and no one will ever be able to help you again.”
This was her fault. All her fault. She’d taken the job dancing at his club. She’d lied about her age to get the gig, but she’d needed the money so desperately—her dad, he wasn’t well. If she hadn’t gotten that money, she and her dad would have been cast out on the street.
Her gaze slid back to Ethan. His handsome face was battered, but his golden eyes glittered. He wouldn’t stop fighting. Giving up wasn’t in his blood. He’d battle Quincy and Quincy’s men until—until Ethan died.
Then what would she do? Her hands kept jerking at the ropes behind her. Her whole body hurt. She had so many bruises. So much pain. But she wouldn’t let Quincy take Ethan away from her. Almost distantly, she heard herself say… “Please. Don’t hurt him anymore. Don’t. I’ll do anything—just don’t!”
But even before those words were fully out of her mouth, Quincy had lunged toward Ethan. As she yanked against her ropes, Quincy kicked Ethan in the ribs, again and again. Then Quincy rolled Ethan onto his back and put the knife right over Ethan’s heart.
This can’t happen! I won’t let it!
Her fear faded as rage burned through her. Quincy had taken too much from her already. He wasn’t going to take Ethan, too.
Quincy’s back was to her. And in that moment, as she saw him with that knife over Ethan’s heart, something broke inside of Carly—even as the ropes that bound her finally gave way. Carly shot out of the chair and lunged for Quincy. “Don’t hurt him!” It wasn’t a plea this time. Her words were a roar.
She slammed into Quincy’s back. They both fell down, tangling over Ethan’s body. She heard Quincy give a choked gasp and she scrambled back as he heaved up—
Only to immediately sag back to the ground.
That was when she saw that the knife wasn’t in Ethan’s chest. When she’d slammed into Quincy, she had saved Ethan. She started to smile and then she saw—
The knife is in Quincy’s chest. She hadn’t meant to stab him, had she? No, no, she’d just wanted to stop him and he’d fell—gotten all tangled up and somehow the knife had gone into him. The handle stuck out, but at least half of the blade was in his chest. In his heart?
Quincy opened his mouth, and she realized that the guards were just outside of that door. If they heard their boss call for them, if they rushed in and saw what she’d done…
I’m dead. Ethan’s dead.
Carly put her hand over Quincy’s mouth. The tears kept pouring from her eyes. Shudders racked her body. She could feel Quincy’s lips moving beneath her palm. Nausea rolled in her stomach, and Carly thought she might vomit.
Ethan crawled toward her. He left a trail of blood in his path. His hand lifted—
Ethan?
And he shoved the knife even deeper into Quincy’s chest. Quincy’s lips stopped moving beneath her palm.
She kept her hand over his mouth. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t hear anything but the scream—a scream echoing only in her mind.
She’d done this. She’d killed a man. Killed the man who’d attacked her, raped her, who’d tried to kill Ethan.
And now…now his men were just outside the door. She wasn’t going to get away. There would never be an escape for her.
Ethan’s fingers curled around her wrist. “It’s okay, baby,” he told her, his voice a rough rasp.
No, it was so far from okay that it wasn’t even funny, but Carly couldn’t manage to speak.
“I’m…going to take care of everything,” Ethan said, his words little more than a whisper. “All you have to do…is trust me.”
His hand lifted—the hand that had just driven that knife deeper into Quincy’s chest, and his fingers curled around her wrist. Slowly, he moved her hand away from Quincy’s mouth.
I did that. I killed him.
For Ethan, for her own survival…I’d do it again.
Darkness stretched inside of her, threatening to consume her. She clamped her lips together to hold back the scream that wanted to break free.
“Trust me,” Ethan said again.
But she was afraid she’d never trust anyone again.
Especially…not herself.
Present Day…
Chapter One
Carly Shay hurried up the subway steps, her high heels making the climb feel far more difficult than it should. People jostled around her, moving quickly, but she kept pace with them. After all, she’d been living in New York for years. She knew this town. Knew this place inside and out.
The crowds—the wonderful energy—she could disappear in this city. Blend in easily. And no one gave her a second glance.
That was why she’d first come to New York. To vanish in the crowd. To stop attracting attention. The way Carly figured it, she’d done a damn good job of vanishing.
One hand kept a firm grip on her bag as she marched forward and across the street. A few more minutes, and she’d be home free.
“Carly.”
She almost slammed into him. She’d been focused on the crowd. On the guy in the fancy suit who was yelling into his phone. On the mother trying to comfort her crying toddler.
She hadn’t even seen him.
But now, she couldn’t look anywhere else.
Because in the middle of the sidewalk, standing less than three feet from her, was the man who haunted far too many of her dreams. Well, her nightmares really.
Ethan Barclay.
Tall, dark, and far too dangerous to know…Ethan Barclay.
The dying sunlight fell on his dark hair. Hair that was a little too long. Dark stubble covered his jaw and his golden eyes—tiger eyes—were locked on her with the full intensity of a predator who’d just found the perfect prey.
I won’t be his prey. Not this time.