Page 26 of Ruthless Rebel

His brutal honesty tears me apart, and all I can do is toss my controller down and turn to him. “I know what it’s like for powerful men to take someone from you, I watched my father kill my mother in cold blood and it changed me forever,” I admit more freely than I ever have before, and I don’t miss the way his eyes widen at my admission. My childhood is never something I have talked about, not even with my brothers, they just knew my parents were gone and that I didn’t want to talk about it. “My mother was like Rachel in a way, innocent, trusting, too good for this world and the devils that roam in it, and just like her she paid the price. And just like you I would never forgive the person responsible for her death, which is why I killed him after he killed her, but Asher isn’t my father, Jace, and he isn’t his father either.”

I don’t hang around for his response, too pent up to continue down the avenue our conversation is heading in, but when I reach the door he calls out to me. “I’ll try and do better,” he starts, standing up and moving toward me. “I’ll try not to hate him, but for you, not for him.”

His response isn’t what I expected, in fact it’s the opposite given the confession he just made. So I can’t help but ask, “Why for me?”

My brother just smiles, a lightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before he met Riley and Sofia, but is now present every day. “Because you don’t see as much as I see when it comes to him,” he muses, his smile turning into a cocky smirk which is much more usual for him. “And because you need me not to hate him,” he adds with a shrug. “Some of us are in denial and some of us are just waiting for things to get more interesting around here,” he chuckles, slapping me on the back as he slips past me and out the door. “I’ve got to go pick Riles up and I’m staying with the Deckers tonight, so I guess I’ll see you across the ocean in a few days, brother.” He offers me a mock salute and then disappears out of sight as I stare after him dumbfounded, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

I spend the next few hours working from home before cooking enough dinner for two, despite knowing that Asher won’t come back here now that his daughter is gone. Then I head to the gym and work out while also tracking the plane that everyone is on as it travels across the ocean. Then I grab a shower and sit down at my desk in my room to do some more unofficial work.

The next man on my list is called David Bennett, a low-life thug and alcoholic who spent years fostering and abusing young girls without getting caught. One of the girls even died, but thanks to a brother that works for the police department, it was all covered up and her death was ruled an accident. He lives about two hours away and I need to ensure my plan for him is solid before I lure him in to meet his maker, which means I need to do some research.

I suit up, grab a small bag of tools I will need and then head out to start my hunt. The first rule of being a predator is that it needs to stalk its prey, and David Bennet is now mine. So, let the games begin.

11

ASHER

Ididn’t sleep at all last night, despite the comforts of my master bedroom at the penthouse, and I wish it was just an off night, but it wasn’t. Not even my king-size bed and stupidly high thread count sheets could placate me, not when there has been a knot in my stomach since the moment Elle and Cassie drove away from the house yesterday and left me behind.

At least last night I knew which demons were keeping me awake, and it’s not like it’s unusual. I am no stranger to not being around the girls, I travel for business all the time, so we are all accustomed to it, especially when I always choose to sacrifice myself being away from Cassie over Elle. Hell, I had to miss the first couple of years of my daughter's life to keep up a ruse with my father in order to protect her, but this is different. They aren’t just in another town, they are halfway around the world and I am too far away to protect them. Which I know is a ridiculous notion, they have Marcus, and Zack, and Max and his team, who I know would protect them with their lives, but none of them are me.

My stomach burns with annoyance, as I am forced to sit behind my desk and listen to my client drone on and on about the vandalizing of his house and the suspected culprits, and I know I should be listening, yet all I can do is fantasize about smashing his face into my desk and watching him bleed. He is one of the reasons I am not with my daughter right now, one of the obstacles in my way, and right now I don’t care about his fucking problems.

My schedule of clients, which was apparently too fixed and important to move, included this meeting with Mr. Justin Baxter today, and another on Monday with Miss Sierra Banks. Mr. Baxter has come to us with countless issues over the last few months, and the only thing I have deduced is that he’s a grumpy prick who needs to fucking relax. Most of our meetings are me just listening to him ramble about his latest issue, which is always dealt with before he even leaves my office, and me telling him to install cameras that he refuses to pay for.Same bullshit, different day.

Miss Sierra Banks however, is my newest client, and after some digging into her background I’ve confirmed her story of a jilted ex-husband who is stalking her. Hence, why I accepted her onto my already packed schedule. If there’s one thing I truly hate, it’s men going after women. Yet I am feeling far from kind towards her, after Eliza informed me that she called early this morning to reschedule our meeting to today.

The first thing I did was try and alter my travel arrangements, but my emails to Max were futile as he told me to take it up with Jace who is leaving today. An idea that seemed more tempting than my current travel plans, but I knew how it would be received, and as much as I wish I could tag along with Conrad and his new-found little family, it seems I am stuck around waiting to leave with Blackwell on Monday like originally planned.

By the time I usher Mr. Baxter from my office I can feel a headache weighing down on my brow as I bid him goodbye, and turn to Eliza with a scowl.

“What was it this time, Mr. Donovan? Toilet paper on his lawn? Dog shit on his doorstep?” She asks with a teasing smile, and I can’t help the small curl of my own mouth at her questions.

“Nothing as inventive as that unfortunately,” I sigh, before adding, “Someone spray painted the word asshole on his garage door.”

Eliza laughs with a shake of her head, as she takes his file from me to put away. “Would you like me to track them down and send a gift basket?” She jokingly asks, but for a moment I am half-tempted.

Footsteps approach behind us as I shake my head at her, yet before I can respond, a new voice cuts in, but it isn’t directed at us.

“You have the audacity to tell me this isn’t about money when you have one of the richest men in the country standing right there,” the voice scoffs, and I turn towards it, recognizing its owner instantly.

Josh Peters, the prodigal son of Fairfield, a town not too far from here that is run by his father, Mayor Hugo Peters. I know Josh from our time in high school, he didn’t attend Hallows Prep with me, but went to a school of a similar background in his town, and we often found ourselves in the same circles at sporting events and parties. I’ve heard his dad is a real piece of work, but not as bad as the late Mayor of Black Hallows, yet that doesn’t answer why his son is now here.

“Josh Peters,” I nod, abandoning my conversation with Eliza and moving to stand next to Lincoln, who is still staring at Josh intently, as if he wants to rip his head off.

It’s clear they have just finished up a meeting, for what I’m not sure, and when I don’t say anything else after his name, Josh’s focus snaps back to Lincoln. “The world revolves around money, you can get people to do anything for the right price,” he snaps, his anger not showing any restraint, and for the first time Lincoln pulls his gaze from him to me, looking between us both with that keen eye of his.

Yet I don’t feel scrutinized, more like Lincoln is looking into the deepest, darkest parts of my soul, and not backing away, before he breaks my stare and sighs, “And with the right power you can change that world.”

His words shouldn’t placate me, they shouldn’t make my cheeks feel suddenly warm and erase the feelings of discomfort I’ve had since I left him at the house yesterday, but they do, and I can’t put my finger on the reason why.

Those same words also seem to force back Josh’s anger, as he absorbs them in his mind and looks at me again, and asks, “Are the rumors true?” A question that can only lead to one thing, given the rumors of the Donovan downfall remain rampant to this day, despite how hard we tried to contain them.

I smirk, not shying away from the memories of the day my father and brother were killed as I shrug, “Some of them are true, and some of them are a lot kinder than the truth.” I don’t let my tone hide the feelings I had toward my family, wishing I could go back in time and make them pay an even higher price for their sins, but you know, I was busy getting shot in the chest and trying not to die.

The scar beneath my shirt flares with a phantom burn as my gaze collides with Lincoln’s once more, and it looks as if he remembers that moment more than I do, as if he knows my scars more than I do.

“I’ll get it done this weekend,” Josh cuts in, reminding me of his presence, but my focus remains on Lincoln, who just nods.

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