Page 108 of Pure Vengeance

SEIZED

THE REVENGE OF LAWES

BY FELICITY BRANDON

PROLOGUE

Languished

Mark Lawes

Darkness. Peering around the limited expanse of his cell, Mark Lawes found nothing except the overarching shadow of night. Closing his eyes, he blew out a breath. Why torture himself by searching the same dank space for the thousandth time? Even if the lights had been switched on in the cellblock, there was nothing to see except aging mold and peeling paint.

I deserve better than this.

Nothing was ever going to change while he was entombed in that damp Victorian crypt.

“Hey, Lawes.” The gruff voice of his cellmate, Paul Dylan, interrupted his dismal train of thought. Mark tensed, already sensing where the so-called conversation would lead. He seemed to have had the same ‘chat’ with a number of Dylan’s mates. “Are you awake?”

Mark considered ignoring Dylan’s call, but weeks of sharing what little personal space he had with the idiot had taught himthere would be little point. The moron wouldn’t stop bleating until he’d been heard.

“What do you want?” Mark ground his teeth together, trying to quell his growing irritation. He’d been stuck in confined places with troglodytes like Dylan for too damn long.

“I heard what you were in for.” Dylan’s voice sounded gleeful. “Kidnapping all those women and keeping them in the basement. Nice!”

In the gloom of the lockup, Mark rolled his eyes. “What about it?”

He’d been listening to cretins like Dylan jerk off to reports of his crimes ever since word had got around about why he was there. So what if his current cellmate had finally heard the rumors? He had nothing to tell Dylan.

“So, it’s true?” Dylan’s chuckle echoed around the suffocating space. “You sneaky bastard! I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

“That’s because you don’t know me.” And that was how Mark wanted it to stay.

If he had to endure the ongoing nightmare of serving time, then he’d do so alone. He didn’t need allies. The inmates and the screws were as bad as each other.

Whatever the judge said, Mark didn’t consider himself to be a criminal. Dylan and the other scum held in the place were genuine delinquents, while he and his old dental partner, Fuller, had only acted in good faith. Sure, they’d indulged themselves in their fantasies, but they’d also taken care of those women, and despite the theatrical performances some of the alleged ‘victims’ had displayed in court, he and Fuller had only given those whores what they wanted. Those women had been too afraid to ask for what they most craved, too ashamed… but shame meant nothing to him.

“Tell me about it.” Apparently undeterred by Mark’s curt tone, Dylan sounded eager to hear all the gory details, but Mark had bad news for the goon—that wasn’t going to happen.

The things that had happened in the swanky dental surgery facility he and Fuller had built, along with the joys of the basement, were fortheirconsumption only—his and his old friend’s. Mark’s attention flitted fleetingly to the memory of Brandon Fuller. He hadn’t heard what had become of him since the end of his trial.

“What were the women like?”

“None of your business.” Mark squeezed his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smack it into Dylan’s not-so-pretty face. “Go to sleep, Dylan.”

“Don’t be like that.” Dylan’s voice lowered to a snarl. “We could be friends, man. I’ve heard you could use a friend or two.”

“I don’t want any friends.” Mark hissed the words over the edge of his bunk, waiting for the inevitable wallop from below as Dylan kicked out at the flimsy metal bedstead. The impact came as expected, shaking the rickety frame in the shadows. Clenching his jaw, Mark disregarded the tremor. Let Dylan take it out on the bed.

Better the bed than me.

“You ain’t gonna last long in here.” Dylan practically sang the prophecy, his insight breaking into a deep cackle.

I won’t be here long enough to care, you dick.

Mark bit down on the retort, knowing there was no point in articulating it. Men like Dylan were common thugs and robbers. They didn’t have real intellect and couldn’t understand what Mark had hoped to achieve. They were all looking for an excuse to kick off and beat the seven bells out of prisoners like Lawes, but Mark wasn’t going to give his nefarious cellmate any justification. He’d meant what he’d said—he didn’t want friends—but he could also do without a long list of enemies. Adversarieswere difficult to avoid in the narrow rooms and corridors of the crumbling prison.

“Wait until I tell my mates about how you don’t wanna share.” Dylan laughed. “They’ll all wanna ‘chat’ with you.”

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