Chapter 3
Three
“Some predators don’t chase prey. They claim it and dare the world to take it back.” —Cyan MacBrady.
Just like the first time I saw her at the festival, she sparks something visceral inside me. It’s infuriating, this flicker of warmth that has no place in my world, a ghost I buried long ago.
Yet here she is, taunting me with it, chipping away at the ice encasing my soul.
Fury coils tight inside me, volatile and unchecked.
My arm lashes out, knocking the glass off the table as my fingers clamp around her throat.
The shattering sound becomes background music.
Her breath catches. A soft, broken whimper escapes her lips and I drink it in.
Aria’s doe-brown eyes go wide. Her fear is naked—and rightly so.
I don’t blink, don’t loosen my grip, even as my free hand moves with practiced ease into the side of my jacket, unsheathing my Bowie knife, then driving it into Hayden’s thigh.
The steel slides through flesh and muscle with sickening ease, stopping at the guard of the blade.
Hayden’s scream shatters the tense silence.
It’s a melody that plays well with the narrative of the man I have become.
Blood spills, pooling on the expensive loveseat.
When I pull the blade free, a splatter of crimson paints Aria’s stunned face.
“Cyan... I... I have the money. All of it.” Hayden stammers through his agony. “I’ll give it back, every cent!”
Pathetic. I don’t even acknowledge him. My focus is on her, this dove that has flown into my territory, sitting frozen, tears spilling silently down her cheeks. I can feel her pulse beating erratically under my palm.
“Collin, do I care about a measly ten million dollars?” I ask.
My younger brother fake-chuckles, unbothered as always. “No, bro. It’s the principle. If we let this slide, what kind of message does that send?”
I smile. “I’m liking the way you articulate things, little brother.” I turn to address Aria. “My brother has a master’s in English Literature. Doesn’t look it, does he?” I say, and with the edge of my thumb I stroke the trembling column of Aria’s throat, feeling a shiver run through her.
Her lashes flutter, confusion flaring in her gaze, as fear morphs into something that resembles desire as she leans into my touch. I don’t know if she’s conscious of her actions, but my grip shifts; it’s possessive now instead of punishing.
Her lips part. “P… Pl…”
She seems to catch herself. Instead of begging, her hands curl around my wrist, pushing.
I admire her fight. I like that she doesn’t beg like Hayden, that even in the face of genuine fear, she meets me with resistance.
She doesn’t rub at her throat when I ease my grip, doesn’t pull away into hysterics.
Instead, Aria steadies herself, staying still in my hold. She struggles to slow her breathing, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth.
Good lass. There’s so much more to this woman.
“C don’t let all our secrets out. I like it when everyone thinks we’re just a bunch of big dumb muscles,” Thomas says, pulling me back to the moment.
With a last brush of my fingers against Aria’s skin, I release her.
“True that,” I mutter, turning my attention back to Hayden.
“If only the idiot had known that Troy is a certified Chartered Accountant, he would’ve thought twice before trying to fuck with our books.
” I wipe my blade clean on Hayden’s shirt.
Unlike Aria, Hayden is spineless, curled in on himself, whimpering. A disgusting coward.
“This was your test, and you flunked it big time.”
Hayden sobs. “Please... please, I have a wife.”
“Your wife deserves better,” I cut him off. “Get up. Let’s go.”
Aria rises, gripping her oversized bag like a lifeline, staring daggers at me. Interesting.
We lead Hayden out through the back of his rented house, the dense pine forest beyond offering the privacy we need for tonight’s work.
Then, like a fucking idiot, Hayden stumbles, face plants into the dirt, and Aria takes off running.
A flash of dark-brown curls, legs moving fast as she sprints toward the woods.
Troy moves, pulling out his gun, raising and aiming. “Don’t shoot,” I shout.
In a split second Troy adjusts his aim as his finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet grazes a tree instead of her back.
My gut twists in unexpected rage. I almost lost her. “Troy. Sebastian. Bring her back,” my voice razor-sharp. “Don’t harm a hair on her head.” The foolish woman almost got herself killed! What the hell was she thinking?
Troy lingers for a second look at me, his brows creasing.
He knows this isn’t my style. But loyalty wins out with one nod; he takes off.
He and Sebastian disappear into the trees after her.
I inhale, trying to quell the possessive fury boiling in my veins.
Does she have a death wish? Did she think she could hide from me in Crescent Bay, it like Boston is my playground?
“Lock Down the Town,” I say, dragging a hand through my beard.
“Thomas, call Trent and Johnny; give them her description. If anyone sees her, pick her up.”
“Got it.” Thomas is already dialing.
“Collin, get Jake on the phone. I want everything on her.”
Collin raises an eyebrow. “It would be faster if we had her last name.”
I roll my shoulders, glancing down at Hayden’s pathetic form. “Not a problem.” I drive my boot into Hayden’s gut. He chokes and vomits. Another kick. Another strangled gasp as he coughs up more bile. “What’s her last name? Start talking, fucker, tell me everything you know about Aria.”
His breath rattles. “Aria Boschett, she’s... she’s an accountant...junior level...at J&G Accounting...”
I smirk. I have what I need, and now it’s time to hunt. “Run, run, Dove...” I turn toward the forest. “... but there’s nowhere to hide.”