Page 1 of Frenzy
Prologue
Courtland
Sixteen years ago
Istood to the left of Juan Pablo, the last man remaining who my father really trusted. Although his hair was now streaked with gray and his shoulders were slightly stooped, I still remembered him as the tall, imposing man who had once put his gun to the forehead of a traitor and pulled the trigger. That had been the first dead body that I’d ever seen, but it wasn’t the last. Not by a long shot.
He looked over his shoulder at me, bushy eyebrows drawn tightly together. “Are you sure about this?”
I nodded only once. There was no room for doubt in life. Procrastination was death by a different name. My father had said that to me many times. But he was dead, and this had little to do with procrastination and everything to do with blood.
His blood. His family.
A car rolled up from a distance, blowing up a dust cloud that was distorted by the wavy heat of the summer air. “Last chance, Little Prince. This is a lot of money.”
I twisted my lips, glad that Juan Pablo couldn’t see the anxiety that coursed through my veins. I was fourteen, and in this world, that made me a man. “It is what Father would have wanted.”
Juan Pablo snorted, but he didn’t disagree. My father had been a man with an almost chimeric nature. He’d been a ruthless and bloodthirsty criminal, who had cut down begging men with little to no remorse. But he’d been soft for one thing, and one thing only. For his family. Blood above all. Above money. Above power.“My children are my real legacy. All this is gone like the ashes of a funeral pyre. But you and the girl? You are forever.”
The girl. He’d never called her by her name, nor did he mention his wife—like losing them was too painful to bear. He’d gone to get them back and died in the process, but I didn’t blame him for leaving me alone in this world filled with sharks. I would have done the same thing.
I wasdoingthe same thing. And that's why I knew my father would have wanted this.
The car slowed to a stop, and two figures got out. One man was in a bad brown suit that hung from his soft, bulging body all wrong. The other was a boy, no older than me. Actually, as he got closer, he was possibly slightly younger than me. The man stopped in front of Juan Pablo, barely sparing me a glance. He didn’t realize that the money paying for the merchandise was mine.
My eyes fell to the bundle in the boy's arms. It was wrapped tightly, but was so tiny I didn’t think it could possibly be the right one.
The boy stepped closer, his blue eyes cutting into my face like knives. He looked between the bundle in his arms and me. Swallowing hard, he handed it over.
“I named her Rosa. I hope you don’t mind.” His voice was so soft that it was almost lost in the guttural arguing of Juan Pablo and the brown-suited man.
I shook my head. “Rosa is fine.” I took the bundle from the boy and held it close to my chest. From beneath the blankets, a tiny sleeping baby face peeked out. Fifty thousand American dollars had bought her safety, and never in my life had I been more sure about a choice.
The boy continued to stare down at the baby, even after it was in my arms. I held it awkwardly, but kept my body taut. Confidence was a state of the mind and of the body; my father had said that too.
Finally, the boy lifted those blue eyes back to my face. They speared into my soul like he could see my every intention, see the blood on my hands already. It was obviously just my imagination, because in the next moment he whispered, “Promise you will be good to her. That you won’t…” I had no idea what he was going to say, because he snapped his jaw shut and shook his head.
I tensed my jaw. “She’ll be happy. I am going to make sure of it.”
The boy nodded. “Good.”
I couldn’t help but ask, “Why? Do you know her family?” I was desperate for news of The Girl, but didn’t want to sound too eager. I didn’t want people to know I had any emotion at all, let alone an interest in a mother and daughter who were supposed to be dead.
But the boy just shook his head sadly. “No.”
He reached out and touched the baby’s face, and I had the strongest urge to draw him to me, to kill this fucking suit and take them both. I must have growled, because Juan Pablo sent me a warning look, and I drew the attention of the suit.
“Pryce, get back in the car,” the suit grunted, and the boy—Pryce, I guess—hesitated, but eventually moved away. My eyes watched him unblinkingly as he made his way back to the nondescript sedan, climbing into the back seat and shutting himself away from me forever.
I had to grit my teeth and dig my heels into the red dirt to stop myself from following him.
Finally, Juan Pablo handed the man a stack of cash, and the guy grinned, flashing tobacco-stained teeth. “Good doing business with you.”
He turned back to the car and walked toward it. I couldn’t help myself as I yelled, “Where are you taking the boy?”
The suit looked back over his shoulder. “None of your fucking business, kid.” His sneer dragged at the jowls of his face.
I fought the shift. “I will buy him from you. A hundred K.”
