In Plain Sight (Retribution #8)

Chapter 1

ONE

EMBER

Shock rooted me to the floor, the slap of skin, the throaty cries of pleasure echoing off the walls, surrounding me. My stomach churned violently, and bile crept up my throat, threatening to choke me.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. I just stood there, frozen in shock and disbelief. But disbelief quickly morphed into something hotter. Darker.

Anger billowed up inside me like a thundercloud, gathering strength until it shook every fiber of my being. My hands trembled, my legs shook, and my chest heaved as the storm inside me grew.

I knew he didn’t love me—not really. Steele wasn’t a good man; I’d always known that, too. He was reckless, selfish, capable of things I preferred not to think about. But he’d promised to protect me, and somewhere deep down, I’d clung to the illusion that protection came with loyalty.

I bit back a bitter scoff. I was such an idiot. To believe that someone like Steele could be faithful when he couldn’t even be honest with himself.

And yet, the sight of him kneeling behind the woman hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. The beautiful blonde with her too-tight clothes and coy little smirks. She was new to the club, bold and flirtatious, and she had more than one man panting after her.

But even from the beginning, she’d only had eyes for Steele. The moment she arrived, she’d done her best to capture his attention. Showing off a little too much skin, sending him sultry, sidelong glances that dared him to make a move.

I’d noticed. Of course, I had. But I hadn’t believed he would actually do anything about it. Not until this very moment.

What stung the most wasn’t just the betrayal—it was the cruel irony of it all. Because the woman looked like me. Same slight build, similar golden hair, as though I was nothing more than a prototype, and she was the upgrade.

It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. It sliced through me like a blade.

It would have been bad enough if he’d taken any other woman to bed.

Maybe he had. For so long I’d tried to tune out the dismal world around me that maybe I just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

But the fact that he’d cheated on me with my doppelg?nger… Somehow it was just too much.

My heart pounded in my chest, the blood rushing rapidly in my ears. I’d been questioning my place lately—not just in the club, but in Steele’s life. I guess now I had my answer.

Dredging up every ounce of strength in my body, I managed to move. My fingers wrapped around the knob and I eased the door closed as softly as possible, careful not to let the wood click together and give away my presence.

A strange calm settled over me as the door closed, sealing off the image of the couple inside. The storm inside me wasn’t gone, but it had shifted, solidified into something else completely. The moment I’d seen them together, something inside me had changed.

It was obvious that Steele didn’t want me, and I’d only been with him out of necessity—for safety, security.

It would be a cold day in hell before I forgave him.

I couldn’t live with myself. And no way would I just step aside; doing so would only make me a target to the other men of the club.

They traded women like commodities, treated them like property, little better than animals. I’d rather die than live that life.

There was only one option left. I had to leave.

I owned hardly anything, and what little I did have was in the bedroom.

With them. The thought sent my stomach rolling, disgust and fury warring within me.

I refused to go back in there, not even to retrieve the meager scraps of a life that no longer felt like my own.

Whatever I needed, I could buy later—when I was far, far away from this place.

First and foremost, I needed time to make my escape. I wasn’t certain how long they’d been in there, but Steele would be expecting me to be home soon. More than likely, he would want her gone by the time I “arrived.”

It seemed like fate somehow that we’d finished up in the kitchens earlier than usual tonight.

I typically stayed behind to help clean up after dinner, dreading making my way back to Steele’s house at the back of the compound.

I wasn’t certain why at the time, but an itchy sensation had settled in my shoulder blades, screaming at me that something wasn’t quite right.

Instead of dragging my feet and taking my time, I’d rushed through the job to get home. Now I knew why.

Moving as quietly as I could, I tiptoed toward the front of the house.

My fingers brushed against the wooden doorstop near the threshold, and I picked it up, then carried it back to the bedroom.

I needed to block them in there, just for a bit, just to buy myself a little time to get away.

It was going to be hard enough to evade the men making their rounds; I didn’t need Steele on my trail as well.

Careful not to let it scrape against the floor, I wedged the block of wood under the door leading to the bedroom. It wasn’t much—it certainly wouldn’t hold them for long—but it didn’t need to. It just had to give me enough time to escape.

Not giving myself a moment to reconsider, I padded quietly down the hall to Steele’s makeshift office.

This was his command center when he wasn’t at the clubhouse, and if there was anything valuable in this house, it would be here.

The door creaked the tiniest bit as I pushed it open, and I flinched at the sound, praying Steele hadn’t heard.

Almost simultaneously, the woman let out a moan that could have rattled the windows.

My stomach churned with disgust, anger and humiliation spurring me into action as I shoved my way into the room.

I yanked open the top desk drawer and rummaged frantically through the contents.

Papers, pens, a pack of cigarettes—nothing useful.

The second drawer wasn’t much better. My heart raced in my chest. I was running out of time.

At the very back of the third drawer, buried under a sheaf of papers, my fingers brushed against a thick envelope.

My breath caught as I pulled it free and peered inside.

A stack of green bills stared back at me, and vindication bubbled up inside me, hot and sharp. Steele owed me this, at the very least.

Without hesitation, I shoved the envelope down the back of my jeans, the crisp corners digging into my flesh. I glanced around the room, and my gaze snagged on a dark sweatshirt draped over the back of his chair. Perfect.

I snatched it up and shoved my arms through the sleeves. It hung loosely on my frame, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It would cover my hair and skin as I moved through the moonlight, helping to shield me from the men on patrol.

The fabric smelled faintly of him—of motor oil, cigarette smoke, and cheap cologne—but I ignored the sting of familiarity. I had bigger things to worry about.

Moving cautiously, I crept to the side of the window.

The last thing I wanted was for Storme or one of the others to spy me in Steele’s office.

Tonight, of all nights, I had to be extra cautious.

Steele’s brother was a wildcard—a loose cannon with a mean streak a mile wide.

If Steele was dangerous, Storme was twice that, because he was unpredictable.

He had the temper of a rattlesnake—quick to strike and twice as deadly.

I’d always had the sense he didn’t like me. Maybe it was my presence in Steele’s life, or maybe it was just Storme being Storme. Either way, I knew one thing for certain: if he caught me sneaking out, I wouldn’t live long enough to explain myself.

Peeking around the frame, I peered out into the night. The clubhouse loomed a few hundred yards away, its windows glowing faintly. While they were drinking and carousing, I would be long gone.

Regret surged up, threatening to pull me under, but I ruthlessly shoved it down. This place, this life, wasn’t mine anymore. It had never truly been my choice; now it was time to take control of my life.

I whirled away from the window and yanked the black hood of the sweatshirt over my head to cover my blonde locks. It was time to go.

The front door was a death trap. I would be far too exposed if I exited that way. The living room was on the side of the house opposite the compound; a lamp glowed brightly on the end table near the window, obscuring my view outside.

I grimaced. There was a possibility of someone seeing me before I saw them, but I didn’t have another option.

It was this or nothing. My breaths came shallow and quick as I crept across the house, the harsh creak of the floorboards betraying my movements.

The faint murmur of voices from the bedroom spurred me on. My time was quickly running out.

Darting quickly across the living room, I grabbed for the window.

My fingers trembled wildly as I fumbled with the lock.

Finally, the seized metal gave way and the lock turned with a snap.

I winced as I yanked upward on the sash and the wooden window casing gave a loud groan as it reluctantly slid up.

I cast another quick glance outside, scanning for movement. The coast looked clear, but I knew better than to trust appearances. Storme could be anywhere, prowling like the predator he was.

Without hesitating, I clambered onto the edge and swung my legs over the sill.

My foot caught on the edge of the end table, and before I could steady myself, the lamp toppled to the floor with a deafening crash.

I froze, panic seizing my chest like a vice.

For a split second, I didn’t move, listening for any sign of pursuit.

Voices arose, both from inside the house and without.

My heart lurched into my throat, pounding wildly as adrenaline surged through my veins.

There was no time to waste. I threw myself through the opening and dropped to my belly in the cool, dewy grass, the moisture seeping through my clothes in an instant.

Swearing softly, I pressed myself as low as I could and began to crawl, desperate to put as much distance between myself and the house as possible.

The voices grew louder, closer. It was now or never.

Summoning every ounce of courage I possessed, I scrambled to my feet and bolted across the yard, keeping to the shadows as I ran.

The world around me was a dark black-green blur of grass and trees, my focus narrowed on the path ahead.

Every step felt like a gamble, every second like an eternity as I sprinted for the bordering tree line.

Behind me, frantic shouts pierced the night air. My steps slowed, and I risked a glance over my shoulder. A strange yellowish glow flickered in the window where I’d escaped, and a thin wisp of smoke curled upward, carried by the light breeze.

Oh, shit. The house was on fire.

On the heels of that realization, another thought slammed into me. Steele was in the bedroom—with her. And I’d barricaded the door.

My heart clenched and my lungs seized into a tight knot.

For a moment, I stood rooted in place, paralyzed by the sight.

Flames began licking at the edges of the frame, their eerie glow casting sinister shadows on the dark lawn.

The shouts grew louder, angrier, as more voices joined the fray.

It jolted me from my stupor. There was no time to dwell, no time to second-guess. If they found me standing there…

No.

That wasn’t an option. I turned and threw myself toward the fence that encircled the property, my legs pumping furiously beneath me.

My heart thundered in my ears, drowning out the crackle of flames and the rising chaos behind me.

The chain link fence loomed ahead, its jagged points gleaming like teeth in the silvery moonlight.

I zeroed in on the narrow break in the chain link that I’d spotted weeks ago but had forgotten to mention to Steele.

That slip now worked in my favor. Dropping to my knees, I shimmied through the opening, the sharp metal edges tearing at my clothes and scraping against my skin.

A hiss escaped my lips as a piece of metal latched onto my side and sliced through the delicate skin.

Fuck, that hurt!

I pushed through the pain, focusing only on escape. Twisting my body, I carefully detached the sliver of metal then slid through the opening and landed with a hard jolt on the other side.

Once free, I rose and pressed one hand to my side as I turned back to survey the scene.

The house was completely engulfed now, flames writhing like a living entity, smoke billowing into the sky and blotting out the faint stars above.

The fire painted the night in hues of orange and red, a hellish beacon that would bring the rest of the club running in moments.

Guilt clawed at me as I stood there, helpless. Steele was a bastard, but I hadn’t meant for this to happen. Not the fire, not the destruction, not… this.

My stomach churned, the weight of what I’d done pressing down on me. But I couldn’t afford to linger.

I tamped down the guilt, shoving it into a dark corner of my mind.

Survival was all that mattered now. Turning my back on the inferno, I sprinted toward the woods, the promise of freedom stretching out before me.

Each step carried me farther from the flames, from the shouting, from the wreckage of my old life.

I ran.

And I didn’t look back.