Page 109 of Pure Vengeance

Mark pressed this hand to his temple with a sigh. He knew the types of chats that went on in this place, especially in the abandoned shower block. When were those guys going to get it through their thick skulls that they just weren’t his type? Mark preferred them bound and with a uterus.

“I can’t wait.” Mark wondered if Dylan was bright enough to discern his sardonic tone. After so long being forced to keep company with lowlifes, he realized he wouldn’t be surprised either way.

“You shouldn’t be so tightlipped.” Dylan was still whining about Mark’s refusal to share the details of his crimes. “My pals could make your stay here more comfortable, ya know? They could get you chocolate and cigarettes.”

Chocolate and cigarettes? Was Dylan joking? He wasn’t a kid.

“Those are really bad for your teeth, you know.” Mark smiled into the darkness, the gesture relieving some of the tension in his body. He knew Dylan wouldn’t understand the connection between his prior career and dental hygiene, but his cellmate’s ignorance made the scenario all the more amusing.

“Girlie mags, then?” His cellmate sounded increasingly desperate. “Whatever you want.”

“What I want is to be left alone.” The last thing Mark wanted was some fifth-hand porno magazine from the 1980s. Scum like Dylan would never understand he had rather specific proclivities that needed tending to. After the things he’d enjoyed with Fuller, no amount of pornography would ever satisfy him again. “Just go to sleep.”

“You just turned down the best offer you’ll get.” Dylan’s voice was full of scorn. “We could have got you what you wanted.”

What Markwantedwas for his true friends to sign the appropriate papers and expedite his early release. That’s what he’d been promised weeks ago. That’s what he longed for. He’d languished in the disgusting hellhole of a prison for long enough, and every time he closed his eyes, the mental picture of why he was there sprung into his head.

Hannah Bowman.

There had been plenty of women—recollections of their frantic faces as they clutched the bars of their cages were available to him any time he liked—but it seemed only one of them had the power to haunt him.

“You’ll regret it.” Dylan sounded annoyingly sure of himself.

Mark longed to wipe the cocky grin from his face, but some battles weren’t worth the effort.

“Just you wait and see…” His voice droned on, throwing around threats Mark had no interest in hearing, so he muted the grating noise coming from the bottom bunk.

Mark had other things on his mind.

Betterthings.

Far more enticing thoughts than those that were garnered from listening to Dylan ramble on.

For starters, Mark enjoyed musing on what he was going to do when he finally got out of jail. What he was going to do to the little girl who’d testified against him and stamped the final nail into his proverbial coffin, where he’d take her and all the fun times they’d have together.

By the time Dylan had stopped ranting, Mark had a clear mental image of her fate.

Hannah wouldn’t know what had hit her.

CHAPTER ONE

Mirage

Hannah Bowman

“What can I get you?” The bartender leaned closer to be heard over the rhythmic thud of the club’s bass line.

Mirroring the gesture, Hannah raised her voice. “Three gin and tonics, please.”

“Got it.” He nodded, turning to organize the drinks, and Hannah’s attention flitted back to her friends.

Shannon and Milly were seated at a nearby table and appeared to be engrossed in conversation. Hannah smiled as she watched them. She’d forever be grateful for their love and support. They, along with ample therapy, had pulled her out of the darkest pit of her life and empowered her to start thinking about a future again. For the first time in years, she was ready to contemplate a new relationship. Given what Hannah had been through, that was nothing short of miraculous.

“Here.” The bartender’s voice caught her attention as he pushed the drinks across the bar. “Anything else?” he prompted.

“That’s all, thanks.” She reached into her purse for her credit card and thrust it in his direction. Tall and dark-haired, he might have been a decent candidate for her to ‘move forward’ with, but it was damn near impossible to strike up a spontaneous conversation in a club this loud.

Anyhow, I’m not desperate.She smirked.I deserve to take my time and find the right one.

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