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“Maisie, I want to take you out. Say yes.”

There it was. The line in the sand. The choice I had to make. Ignore the annoying sense in the pit of my stomach and jump in headfirst, or forever wish I had.

“Sure. When?”

“Tomorrow at eight. I’ll have a car pick you up.”

I laughed. “Sounds fancy. See you tomorrow Virgil.” I ended the call and turned back to my laptop; a big ass satisfied grin on my face.

Chapter Nine

Virgil

It was only a matter of fucking time. I knew it, had known it since that night at the tracks because I couldn’t the images out of my mind. The terrified women who probably didn’t speak a word of English and even worse, the dirty and traumatized little kids. They were the ones who broke my heart.

Drove me to day-drinking.

Hell, drove me to day-drinking until I passed out and had fucking nightmares. And it wasn’t just any random, run of the fucking mill nightmare. No, it wasn’t even a fucking nightmare.

It was a fucking memory.

I was ten years old and sitting at the kitchen table with my head bent over a coloring book. A blue crayon was in my hand and my tongue stuck out in concentration, oblivious to the world around me.

My da storms into the house, drunk and angry. Again. He was always angry when he drank, but for some reason he kept on drinking.

“Where’s yer ma, boy?” I looked up at him and blinked. “You heard me boy, where is she?”

I shrugged. Ma was around somewhere. She was always around, rarely leaving the house and never without Da’s permission.

“Upstairs.”

“Sadie! Get yer ass down here woman!”

“I’m busy, Colm. I’ll be down in a moment!” The exasperation in Ma’s voice was like its own living, breathing being. Still, she never said a cross word to Da and especially not when he was drinking.

He was always drinking.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” His feet were on the move again, and I knew what would come next. I braced for it. With my legs bent so I could bury my face in my legs and cover my ears, I slowly rocked back and forth, hoping the world would go away.

But that wasn’t the Ashby household. We were always loud. Boisterous. Chaotic. And Da? He was always violent.

The first sound was a smack and then a cry fell from Ma’s lips. Another sound, a sickening crack that I would later learn was the sound of her jaw breaking, filled the air. And then the horrific sound of her body crumpling to the ground was all I heard before I took off running out the back door.

Away from the hell of the Ashby household.

Away from the violence of my drunken father.

And right into the arms of the church and Father Ray.

The sound of the doorbell ripped me from that nightmare of a memory.

“Shit. Another fucking dream.”

It had been months since my old man had made an appearance in my dreams, and for that sin The Crusaders would have to pay.

The bell rang again and I swung my legs to the floor and pushed off the sofa, wondering who in the hell was at the door and how they managed to get past all the security on the compound.

We all lived in one big ass mansion, which Ma had dubbed Ashby Manor shortly after the death of our da. But it wasn’t like we were on top of each other. Kat, the only girl among us, got the three-bedroom guesthouse on the east end of the property, while Ma, my brothers and I took different wings of the house. There were ten bedrooms, half with en suite bathrooms, and another seven for houseguests. We also had two half baths for the staff. Still, the person on the other side of that door had made it through the gates and found the entrance to my personal space.

And that pissed me off.

The booze had worn off, but I still grabbed my piece and pushed away the sluggishness that slowed me down. Annoyed and in need of a shower, I glanced at the surveillance screen near the entrance.

“Maisie?” I was sure my face looked like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. What was she doing here in a sexy shirt thing and tight jeans? I buzzed her into the house.

“What are you doing here? How in the hell did you get here?” Instantly, I was on edge as she walked past me into the foyer, and I gripped the door handle tight just in case.

She frowned at me, which should have given her an ugly face but it had the opposite effect. I was slightly paralyzed as she said, “Well, see this really nice and charming guy called me up yesterday to ask me out. Then he sent his sweet driver, Oliver, to pick me up and bring me here.”


Tags: K.B. Winters Romance