Chapter 1
LOGAN
Ten years later
“Happy birthday, motherfucker,” Wrath says.
“Happy birthday,” Masters adds before the three of us down shots.
It’s been a fun party with my bros—two of them, at least—and friends. We went out for food and cake earlier, and now I’ve had enough alcohol that I’m starting to get horny, which is why I keep eyeing the blonde in the red dress.
“I think it’s love,” Wrath teases.
“Shut the fuck up.”
He pats my back. “Go get yours. It’s probably been a minute since you got laid anyway.”
It hasn’t been that long. Maybe three weeks. Things have been busy—it’s not easy running the family business—but I’m not a total masochist. I make sure to tend to my needs.
I break away from my brothers and slither through the crowd, a predator creeping up on its prey, but when I draw near, the way she’s looking at me, it’s hard to tell who’s really the predator. She’s even more beautiful up close: Wide eyes. Thick, kissable lips. Hips that suggest they will not lie.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” I tell her, “and that’s a problem for me.”
She side-eyes me. “A problem for you?”
“Of course. I try to make sure I know all the beautiful women in town.”
Despite the judgment written all over her face, she cracks a smile. “Is that your line?” she jibes.
“I stole it from my brother, so if it didn’t work, it’s his fault.”
She laughs. “Aren’t you a little old to be blaming others for not being able to flirt?”
“That’s rude. Although, it shouldn’t surprise me because it’s my birthday and you don’t even have a present for me.”
I didn’t think she could smile much bigger, but there it is, and it’s gorgeous.
She moves in close, sizing me up before whispering, “Actually, if we go somewhere private, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find out I do have a present for you.”
Oh, I like her. A lot. Even better, she’s just as eager as I am to seal the deal.
Not ten minutes later, she’s leading me out of the bar, en route to her condo that’s just down the street. Like the universe laid everything out for the perfect birthday fuck.
Lowes and Hayes tail me, which catches her attention. “Bodyguards?”
“I kind of need them,” I say, which makes her laugh.
“Please tell me you don’t think I’m oblivious about who you are, Logan Wilde.”
“My reputation precedes me, and still didn’t discourage you?”
“Might be one of the things that caught my interest to begin with,” she confesses.
She’s so feisty, so fun. I bet she’s a hell of a lay.
I don’t have to wait long to find out before we’re tumbling around in her bed. I tear a condom open with my teeth and roll it on. She’s lying there, looking so fucking gorgeous, her full breasts on display, her legs open, inviting me to take that pussy I can still taste on my tongue.
“What was your name again?” I ask.
“You’re gonna ask that right before you stick your dick in me? Really?”
I cringe. That’s such a fuckup. “Would it be terrible to say I was too fixated on your beauty to remember to do that?”
“You didn’t ask. I didn’t care. It wasn’t important. But I’m Renee.”
“Fuck, a name as beautiful as you are.”
“If I were upset about it, that would have cleared that right up,” she assures me as I finish rolling on the condom. I lean down and take a kiss, starting to push into her. “Fuck yeah,” she breathes as I work my way inside.
She’s fucking wild. Just needs a fuck, same as me. To forget all the bullshit of this world, the responsibilities and obligations. It’s my birthday, so tonight I get to be a free animal.
As soon as she’s adjusted in missionary, it’s like she wants to put me through the wringer, make me demonstrate that everything she’s heard about me is true.
And I aim to show her just that. I fuck that pussy with my all.
On the bed, up against the wall, on the desk, and I can tell by the way she’s calling my name that she’s getting close when I have her pinned up against the wall, drilling.
“I’m nearly…” she warns, and as her body vibrates in my hold, it’s apparent that it’s too late for her. She calls out, rolling her head back, her muscles twitching as she erupts in a full-body quiver.
I’m nearly there too, thrusting, ready to get to the end, when a sound comes from outside her bedroom. Maybe just Lowes or Hayes, but I have a sick feeling in my gut, the sort I’ve learned to trust.
Renee is too caught up in the moment to notice, but I’m on edge, pulling out.
“Aren’t you gonna come?” she asks.
“Give me a second.”
I carry her to the bed, listening for any sound coming from the other side of the door. I hurry to my pants and retrieve my gun.
“Logan, what’s—”
“Shh.”
I approach the door and call out, “Lowes?”
Silence.
“Hayes?”
Shit.
This was not how my birthday was supposed to go. Well, aside from fucking a gorgeous woman. That was definitely supposed to happen, but I would’ve preferred to come.
I move close to the door, starting to open it when there’s a thud and it flies open, knocking me back. I try to aim, but two guys rush me, seizing my wrists.
What the hell? Before I know it, there’s a bag over my head and they’re carrying me off. Fuck, is this how I die? Edged and needing release? On my goddamn birthday?
*
Left. Right. Right. Left. Down a set of stairs.
Right.
More stairs.
I count steps as I struggle in the zip tie locked around my wrists, twisting and contorting my body as my abductors haul me through a building. If I’m about to die, I won’t make it easy on these fuckers.
After they pulled my ass from Renee’s condo complex, they shoved me into a car.
About fifteen minutes later they yanked me out and started dragging me through wherever the hell we are now, and despite my attempts, I’m not making much progress.
These guys are pros. Exacting revenge on behalf of one of the Wildes’ enemies?
It wouldn’t be a huge surprise, given the shifting powers now that the O’Dells are moving their business to Chicago.
Maybe the Cronkites or the Dementes? There are so many options when you’re the eldest son of one of the legacy families of the drug-trafficking underworld of Fury.
Despite their strength, my contortions force one of my abductors to release my arm, but just as quickly, he seizes control, hooking an arm around my throat.
“Keep on trying me, motherfucker,” he says. “I dare you.”
The chilly blade of a knife tenses against my throat, and I know I’d better go along with this. There are only two guys, which gives me hope that if I can stay alive, I might be able to escape.
No need to die. Not just yet.
Left. Right. More steps.
Finally, we stop. I hear Knife Guy’s blade retract.
Sounds like he’s tucked it away, then begins punching into a keypad before a beep and the click of a lock.
Given how long it took to get to this part of the building, I figure it’s our destination, and that lock might not work both ways. This could be my only chance.
“Hey, boss, we got him,” one of the guys announces.
Boss? Just as I feared: a turf war. I’m leaning toward the Calvaris, based on Wrath’s recent issue with them. But the Dementes would do it just to fuck with us. I’ll sort it out later because right now I have one mission: survive.
I pull back, then shove forward, ramming my body against Knife Guy, and as he pushes me away, I go with the force, hurling myself at the other.
I feel resistance as he hits the wall, maybe the doorframe, hard to be sure.
He calls out, releasing me, granting me a moment of freedom.
I’ve only just pulled away before I feel what must be Knife Guy’s hand on my arm, and I make a guess at his height, attempting a headbutt and nailing him in the head, which is followed by a crack and a thud—his head hitting something?
Pain rockets through my head, but I hear him groan on the floor beneath me.
Success! I drop down and slide my bindings around to the front.
When I remove the hood, the other guy, with longer hair, is coming at me with something.
Figuring it’s a knife, I dodge it and let his hand slip between my arm and side, crushing down and twisting to disarm him.
A smooth move because a Wilde always trains for self-defense.
Knife Guy, still on the floor, grabs his stun gun, so I step on his arm and slip it out of his grasp before bashing his head against the doorframe. Then I rush Hair, give him a good kick in the crotch that has him hollering.
Show them to fuck with a Wilde.
No sooner have I secured the stun gun than I feel something against my side. The pain radiates through me, and my legs give out, sending me tumbling to the floor. Apparently, there was more than one stun gun. That was my shot, and I fucking blew it.
Despite being down, I’m still one determined fuck, and I start to get up when someone grabs me by the wrist and pulls it behind my back, pinning me to the ground as he puts the weight of his knee against the small of my back.
“Dammit,” I grunt as I feel the metal of the stun gun against my neck.
“Come on, sexy. Time to give it up, don’t you think?”
That voice, deep and resonant, sounds so familiar. It also annoys the fuck out of me for a reason I can’t explain. How do I know this guy? Try as I may, I can’t place the voice.
I start to turn to get a look at my captor when he yanks on my arm again to the point where I scream.
“Be a good boy,” he says. “Stop resisting.”
“Over my dead body.” That’s where this is gonna lead anyway, so I struggle until another jolt incapacitates me. By the time I come back to my senses, I’m back in restraints, hood over my head. Just got out of that damn thing. I’m a dead man, for sure.
Two guys have me by the arms. Not sure who they are—Knife Guy, Hair, or the man whose voice I recognize—but they take me into the room I resisted entering. When I hear the click of the lock, I know it’s probably too late for me.