Total Control (Deadwater Crew #1)

Chapter 1

Kasen

Aderanged laugh escapes me, echoing through the gum trees like a haunted melody.

It’s not like me, I don’t find anything remotely amusing.

But here I am having a good laugh at my own expense as my phone screen reads “ACCESS DENIED: LEVEL RESTRICTED.” What’s the point in having access to a system that keeps me blocked out of the most important portion.

There is no point, and I’m done with it.

I’m tired of the constant deception and the burden of hidden truths when it won’t bring me what I truly want. Her.

Keller set me up, created something I can’t access without my missing girl, and gave me no way to find her. After all this time, I finally understand why Jay left. Why stay, why suffer through this life for “the game” when there is no winning. In the end, everyone loses.

Maybe it’s the ominous feeling hanging heavy in the air tonight and the way the full silver moon illuminates the ocean like a siren, beckoning me; it just hits differently.

Our tainted hometown’s greatest asset entices me to bathe in the depths of her beauty.

Even if she holds more secrets than the system itself.

The fresh night air speaks of new beginnings after the late-afternoon summer storm swept through, killing today’s scorching forty-degree heat.

From my newly acquired ivory tower, I suffered through developer meetings all day in my straitjacket of a business suit, while I watched young surfers nose-diving off waves I could ride with ease.

If I had the time. But this parasitic town now owns me, along with the toxic grip of Throne Enterprises and everything that entails.

But it doesn’t have to… I can escape. The cool steel in my hand should send a chill down my spine as I raise the barrel of my Glock 19 to my temple, but I outran fear a long time ago.

I would say about the same time people started looking at me with terror in their eyes, much like they did him. King Throne.

I might have been young, but I knew what it meant: money, power, respect.

A life I should want after growing up with nothing, and he would remind me of that fact so often I couldn’t forget it.

Not with his words so much, Keller wasn’t one for talking, but he had other ways of getting me and my brothers to cooperate, and before I knew what was happening, every promise I made to myself was lost. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw were his cold eyes staring back at me. That’s when I knew my life was over.

Salt spray licks my sun-drenched skin in a way that takes me back to the days when I used to feel alive.

The crashing of waves against sheer cliffs ten meters below my bare feet, sinister as it whispers my name, telling me freedom is just one step away.

If the gods have spoken and tonight is where fate chooses to release me from the noose around my neck, then so be it.

I have always taken pleasure in the belief that there is something greater than me out in this suffocating world.

And why wouldn’t they choose tonight to release me from this torture.

Me and my boys learned from the best. Anything Keller Throne could do, my crew would go one further just to prove ourselves worthy.

I could kill a man with my bare hands, extort money out of any scumbag I decide to target, and have every cop, judge, and mayor in my pocket.

That was all before I turned seventeen. But nothing was ever enough for him.

I was never enough. Neither was my brother Jayden; he fucked off years ago, unable to deal with the disappointment from the man he looked up to a day longer.

But maybe it should have been us that were disappointed in him.

And maybe that’s why the idea of becoming him is enough to send me over the edge.

A few rocks tumble over the cliff as I glance over, remembering the last time I was here.

I was fifteen and thought I had my whole life in front of me.

Thought I was invincible. We all did. Me and the other Deadwater Bay Crew.

Without a care in the world, we sprinted up the dry dusty path, arms and legs flying everywhere as we each tried to be first to make the jump.

I left Jayden and Dove for dead way back at the start of the path, knocked River flat on his face, and took Bodhi out just in time, flying off the edge, plunging into the deep icy-cold water with a stupid grin on my face because I was first. In Keller’s opinion, there is no second place, and that was one trait I apparently inherited from him.

I keep that same grin planted on my face now.

Yeah, I know I’m a crazy motherfucker, you have to be to survive in this town.

But tonight is different. It’s not about surviving.

This game of Russian roulette I have been playing with myself is wearing thin.

Every day for the last seven, I have come to Grave Point Drop thinking tonight will be my last. And every day, I’m bitterly disappointed when the barrel is empty.

Tonight, though, I know it’s different. Tonight, erratic energy swirls in the air, along with the salt of the sea.

A bittersweet combination, and I know in seconds I will be at one with the ocean, back to nothing, just shark food like I should be.

I suck in my last full breath as my steady finger slowly tightens on the trigger.

A haunted cry shatters the moment, vibrating off the nearby gum trees as irritation slithers down my spine.

Some crazy bitch has gone and gotten herself more trouble than she can handle.

Not unusual in Deadwater Bay. Every day there is some news story about another unfortunate soul who was tangled up with the wrong people.

Our high crime profile I’m sure keeps our media outlets afloat.

Also, not my problem. I stare out to sea and prepare myself.

But I can’t focus, there it is again. A scream that sends an icy-as-fuck shiver down my spine and has my bare feet slapping against the slick, jagged rocks as I move toward the commotion. Frantic, I shove branches out of my way as I run through the thick bush.

“Get off me, fucker.” The girl’s shriek rings through the trees.

That voice. It couldn’t be. But by the way the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, I know it is.

My feet move at double time, stumping over rocks and broken twigs back down the winding path.

When I get closer, I shove back the low shrubbery to reveal a small clearing we all use as a car park when we surf at the nearby break.

There in the center is a green Ute and two fucked-up-looking assholes covered in tats and leather, hovering over a petite chick, her silver hair lit up by the light of the moon.

She’s crumpled in a ball on the sandy ground below, her face ashen as one of them buries his boot into her ribs.

My bones fuse, my insides turn to liquid, my heart stops rattling round.

It’s her. My birdie.

“You think you can escape me, bitch? I fucking own you!” one of the thugs, the one in the biker jacket, seethes as he drags her back up to her feet by a fistful of her hair.

He shoves her against the side of the car.

“You know what happens to girls who run.” His hand flies across her face, and she shrieks out in pain.

The hand gripping my gun flexes as I raise it in the fucker’s direction and pull the trigger.

I never miss a shot, and I already know tonight will be no different.

The single bullet that was meant for me flies from the barrel and hurls toward the thug, hitting him in the back of the head, blood and brains exploding on impact.

He stumbles forward then crumples to the sandy floor below.

I knew someone was going to die tonight. What do you know, it wasn’t me.

“Prez,” the second guy calls, glancing over his shoulder to find me approaching from the shadows of the trees.

He doesn’t know it yet but I’m this fucker’s worst nightmare.

I might be sans a gun since that was my only bullet, but he’s about to find out what I’m capable of with my fists.

It’s been ten gut-wrenchingly long years since I saw this girl last, but no one messes with my birdie and gets away with it. No one.

Dove’s eyes widen in shock as she works out who’s approaching her.

Not quite the reaction I was expecting. She moves to duck away from the man, but his meaty hand grabs her up, holding her between us as a shield.

Cowardly piece of shit. I guess I didn’t expect anything more from a man beating the life out of a tiny defenseless chick.

“Let the girl go, and you won’t end up like your mate,” I demand, my voice filled with threat. Not that I need it, he has no idea my gun is empty, and I just showed him I’m not averse to a bit of violence. Or a lot. My fingers twitch into a fist.

“Not till this little slut pays us what she owes. She’s the property of The Southern Breakers until that debt is settled.” His eyes narrow in on me, and I think he’s trying to intimidate me. “Don’t get messed up in shit you don’t understand, pretty boy,” he hisses, puffing out his chest.

Who is he calling a pretty boy? I might be cleanly shaven, with my hair cut neatly on account of the image I need to portray to this town, but there is nothing pretty about me. I’ve got my share of scars.

“Last warning. Let her go,” I growl again, this time my voice lower.

I don’t know this fucker or the gang he’s a part of; he’s not from my town or any of the neighboring ones, and he clearly has no clue who I am, or this conversation wouldn’t be a thing.

But he’s about to find out what being untouchable in this town means.

My dead eyes lock with his, ready to have some messed-up fun at his expense.