I wasn’t sure what I believed about the afterlife, but if we did have souls and my little brother was here, watching his funeral, then I was going to at least have on a damn suit coat and button-up. I drew the line there. My jeans and boots weren’t going anywhere. Hayes would understand that.

  I stood at the back of the church, watching people come in and speak to my mother’s parents up front. They had seen me walk in, but neither of them would approach me. I’d made my choice years ago, and although the old man preached about forgiveness and acceptance, he’d never been able to give that to my father. Judgment was clear in his gaze when his eyes met mine. He saw my father when he looked at me. I fucking saw my father every time I looked in a mirror, and I was proud of it. Creed Kingston had been a hell of a man. Loyal, honest, and proud.

  My jaw clenched as I thought of the things he’d said to Hayes and me about my father the day he came to take us away from the only life we’d known.

  He had blamed my father for our mother’s death when he’d died, trying to save her life. He said that their deaths were God’s punishment for the evil my father had done. Carbon monoxide poisoning hadn’t been from God; it had been from a fucking faulty detector. I was fourteen years old and fucking furious. Hayes was six years old and wanted to go with his grandparents. Losing our mother was harder on him. He needed that comfort. He was softer, like she had been. Having a grandmother was something he clung to once our mother was gone.

  I wanted to stay with the Hughes family, and I told them that. I knew Garrett would make it happen. I hadn’t factored in my little brother though. He hugged me tightly with tears in his eyes that day, begging me to go with him. Not to leave him too. My heart fucking twisted so damn tightly that I didn’t think I could breathe. So, I went with them to fucking Alabama. It lasted three years. The day I turned seventeen, I couldn’t take it anymore. Even though I escaped to Ocala, Florida every chance I got, I was done with this life. I called Garrett, told him I was coming home. I packed my things and left Hayes a note, explaining why I had to leave, because I couldn’t fucking face him. Then, I’d gotten on the motorcycle I’d bought with the money I’d made from working at a bike repair shop in town.

  “She’s not even crying,” an older lady said in a hushed tone but loud enough for others around her to hear.

  I turned my attention to the two women who were walking in.

  “Poor Tabitha. She looks so exhausted with having to deal with her.”

  The other woman nodded her head. “I know, but it could just be the shock. They were gonna be married in a few months. It couldn’t be easy for her after he suddenly dropped dead from a brain aneurysm.”

  The first woman smiled tightly. “You’re right. Here I am, in the house of our Lord, being judgmental. Lord, forgive me.”

  My eyes shifted then and locked on the woman being whispered about as she entered the room.

  I hadn’t let myself look at her in that room after the lights came on, but just the once. When I’d gotten a look, I had forced myself not to go there. Because fuck if my little brother hadn’t been engaged to a stunner. Long, dark brown hair hung down her back as she walked down the middle aisle toward my grandparents. The black dress she wore had long sleeves, hit at her knees, and had a respectable fucking neckline. However, it clung to her body.

  Her waist was small, but she had a flare to her hips. That round ass should be illegal. I wasn’t going to even let myself think about her breast size because big tits were my thing, and, Jesus Christ, she had a fucking rack on her.

  “You did good, little brother,” I muttered. “Real damn good.”

  Hayes had chosen religion over the family. He’d told me that he loved me, but that the life I lived—that our father had lived—wasn’t for him. That he wanted to serve the Lord. Save souls and do good. I hadn’t expected him to get engaged to a woman with the body of a porn star. Maybe there had been some Kingston blood in him after all.

  She hugged my grandmother, then stood beside her like a statue. Stiff, uncomfortable with this shit, and fucking gorgeous. I watched her as people came up to pay their respects. She gave them a small smile that didn’t meet her almond-shaped brown eyes. Those lips of hers were so fucking full that I wondered if they were real. I studied her far longer than I should have and knew this wasn’t why I was here.

  Shifting my gaze to the casket to the right of the three standing up there as people arrived, I swallowed the fucking lump that swelled in my throat.

  Dammit, Hayes, it was supposed to be me that went first. Not you. You were the safe one. The good one. Why the hell did you have to go?

  “Walked into a damn nightmare.”

  The deep voice surprised me, but I didn’t flinch.

  I hadn’t told anyone Hayes was dead, simply because I couldn’t say the words. When I had tried, the words wouldn’t come out of my damn mouth.

  This fucker had found out anyway and driven up to the Alabama-Florida line to be here with me.

  “How’d you find out?” I asked Blaise Hughes. The future boss of the family.

  “Tracked your fucking ass,” he replied. “Then made a call. You’d been strange all week. I could feel it. Knew something bad had you fucked up. Shouldn’t be alone with this.”

  This was what a real family was. This was what my father had been a part of. It was what I had wanted for Hayes. Not the fake shit all around me. People expecting stuff from others. Judging them for not fucking crying. It was sickening. The family was different. Hayes had been born into it, just like I had been and our father before us. The man who had raised Hayes considered me evil, didn’t understand what this life was about. What we were about. Well, I’d trust my Mafia family all fucking day instead of these people.

  “Who is she?” Blaise asked.

  I’d been looking at her again. Fuck, my eyes just seemed to keep going in that direction on their own. She looked so damn lost and hopeless, yet there was some fire there. I’d seen a spark of it in her eyes when that horrible woman came to get her.

  “My brother’s fiancée,” I replied, still finding it hard to believe Hayes had been about to marry her.

  She was not minister’s wife material. Unless he wanted the men in his congregation to go home and beat off every Sunday after looking at her all during the service.

  “Hmm,” he said, but nothing more.

  The redheaded bitch who had come to get her walked past me, then snapped her head to look in my direction. She glared at me as she walked over to sit on a pew with some other equally awful-looking women. With their floral dresses that went to their ankles and their helmet hair. Could they be any more unfuckable if they tried?

  “Looks like you already made a friend,” Blaise said with amusement in his tone.

  “That bitch is the fiancée’s mom, I think. Not sure,” I grumbled.

  “Wouldn’t have guessed that one. No resemblance at all.” Blaise pointed out something I’d already noticed myself.

  I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the stupid suit coat I was wearing stretch even tighter. “Not my business,” I said more for my benefit than anything.

  Blaise said nothing, but we’d been friends our entire lives. I could read his thoughts in the silence, and I felt like planting my fist in his face for thinking it. He was right, of course. The girl made me fucking hard. She was sexy as hell. But she had been my brother’s fiancée, and she was one of these people. Not for me.

  “It should be me in that fucking casket,” I muttered. “He was the safe one. Where was that God he wanted to serve?”

  My heart constricted in my chest. I’d never see his face again. Never hear his laugh. Fuck, this hurt.

  “Fucking wish he’d been with us,” Blaise said beside me. “Not here with these people. But he was happy. You got that to hold on to. Even if it hurts like a son of a bitch.”

  Three

  Trinity

  Six Months Later

  This house was much bigger than I’d anticipated. I wasn’t sure I could continue cleaning the local library and the other two businesses I currently cleaned for. As much as I liked my evenings alone in the library, the grand I made a month from cleaning it six nights a week didn’t compare to the five grand a month I was going to get for cleaning this house three days a week.

  With that kind of money and extra time, I could not only pay all my bills, but there was also a possibility I could go to the junior college in town. My future was starting to have some hope. There was a chance for a real life if I could keep this job. It would take me cleaning the library, bank, preschool, and at least four more businesses a month to make this kind of money. Even then, I wouldn’t have a moment to do anything other than work.

  Smiling for the first time since Hayes’s death, I began to dust the furniture in the room that the house manager, Ms. Hottel, had brought me to. She wasn’t the friendliest person, but I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to make money. This was an opportunity that I wasn’t going to lose. Good things always seemed to get snatched away from me. I hoped I got to keep this one. It was time the universe gave me a break.

  The next few hours, I cleaned several rooms, being sure to clean every square inch even though this house was as clean as it was elaborate. I had yet to meet the man who owned the house. He’d hired me through the bank manager, Philip.

  Apparently, Mr. Esposito was a very important client in need of a new house-cleaning service. Philip had said he was a private guy and didn’t want a team of cleaners in his house. I owed Philip for getting me this job. I was aware that Philip liked me, but he was much older than me. Maybe forty, but I wasn’t sure exactly. He had claimed he was separated from his wife when he asked me out once last month. Thankfully, he had accepted that I wasn’t ready to date. I was still grieving my fiancé’s death. I wasn’t sure how long that excuse was going to hold though. He was an attractive man, but I had watched him flirt with other women at the bank. I had a feeling he was separated because he’d done something wrong. Not the other way around.

  I would deal with that if and when the time came.

  I had been working on my anxiety. The first few panic attacks I’d suffered through after Hayes’s death were difficult. It wasn’t like they were new to me. I’d dealt with them all my life, but Hayes had helped me work through them. When I went to my dark place, where I escaped from memories, that was a different story. Thankfully, that had to be triggered by something. It didn’t happen often. I wasn’t going to rely on another person again. If I let myself, I’d lose them. That was a lesson I’d learned. I had to be strong for myself.

  Feeling more confident, I gave the last room on the main floor one more glance and felt good about how it looked, then headed for the stairs. I had been informed that Mr. Esposito was at home but that he was in his private quarters that I wouldn’t be cleaning, ever. This was a sprawling residence and I was curious where those private quarters were located. Not that I’d go looking for them. I wasn’t stupid, just intrigued.

  As I made my way toward the second floor, I heard what sounded like a muffled scream. Was someone watching a television? I hadn’t come across another human since Ms. Hottel had taken me through the house, going over what was expected. I paused and thought about going to investigate, then decided against it. Being nosy was a bad idea if I was going to keep this job. My foot hit the first step just before a cloth was shoved in my mouth from behind, muffling the scream that tore from my throat.

  My heart slammed into my chest as the reality of what was happening hit me. Whoever was behind me grabbed my wrists and tied them so tightly that I cried out in pain.

  “Where is the fucker?” a deep voice demanded near my ear.

  What fucker?

  I shook my head, panicking. I had to do something. I glanced around and tried to turn to see who it was that had me when my body was slammed against the wall. The side of my face pressed against the stucco, and I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering if I would cry now.

  Was this enough to provoke my tears? My own death?

  “Take me to the fucker.” The threat in his voice was clear.

  If I didn’t do what he wanted, I wasn’t going to live. Problem with this was, I had no idea who the fucker was or where the fucker was.

  “Motherfucker,” another male voice growled.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t being pressed against a wall. I didn’t move though. I stayed still, afraid to breathe.

  “What the hell?” the first man snarled.

  “Not that one.” The other man’s deep voice made me shiver.

  I closed my eyes, amazed that they were still dry. I was possibly in my last few moments of my life, and I still couldn’t cry.

  “Jesus, Huck,” he said.

  Then, I watched as a man climbed the stairs without looking back. The gun in his hand made me whimper. He was going to kill someone. Possibly me.

  A large hand wrapped around my arm, and I winced as I was pulled away from the wall.

  “Easy, Trinity,” he said, close to my ear.

  He knew my name. How did he know my name? I turned my head slowly until my eyes locked with the most unique color I’d ever seen. Was that what people referred to as cornflower blue? Why was I even thinking about this man’s eye color at a time like this?

  “Do you remember me?” his deep voice asked.

  I blinked, then let my gaze take in the rest of his features. The strong jawline, defined angles, the … oh my God. Huck. The other guy had called him Huck. It had been six months since the day in the church when Hayes’s brother had walked into the prayer room and stood up to Tabitha.

  I swallowed nervously and nodded my head.

  “Don’t fight me,” he warned. “You’ve got to get out of this house. I’m going to get you to safety, but I need you to trust me.”

  Trust him? I was gagged, and my hands were tied behind my back.

  Hayes had never spoken of a brother. That had bothered me. I was now beginning to understand why he hadn’t mentioned Huck.

  Huck was a criminal.

  I nodded, not because I trusted him, but because I knew I had no other choice. The other man with him had no reason to help me. However, the determined look in Huck’s eyes gave me a shred of security. I’d been his brother’s fiancée. Was that enough for him to keep me alive?

  He took my arm with one of his hands, and in his other hand was a gun. I followed him as we walked back through the house. There was no sign of life.

  Where was Ms. Hottel? Had they killed her? My stomach twisted in a sick knot.

  I had to almost run to keep up with Huck as he maneuvered through the hallways until he came to a door I hadn’t been through. We stopped, and he listened before opening it and stepping out into the sunlight. I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Turning my head, I watched as a bullet went into a man’s head, and he dropped to the ground.

  I screamed into the cloth muffling me. Huck began moving again and followed, but my gaze was on the gun in his hand. The one he’d just killed a man with.

  Why the hell was I not crying? Was I truly this broken? I had just watched a man get shot in the head.

  A black SUV came around the corner, and I started to duck. In the movies, this always appeared right before the gunfire erupted. It came to a screeching halt in front of us, and Huck jerked the door open and threw me inside. I scrambled to sit up, but Huck shoved me back down.

  “Stay,” he barked.

  “Where’s Gage?” the driver shouted.

  “There!” Huck replied, his hand still on my back, keeping me pressed to the leather seat.

  A car door opened, then slammed before I was jerked back as the driver shot off. A gunshot caused me to flinch, and then sick, maniacal laughter followed.

  “Find him?” Huck asked.

  “Am I in the car?” the guy from the stairs asked.

  I was looking at him as he turned to reply, and his eyes dropped to me. Without barely any movement or warning, the man had the barrel of his gun pressed to my forehead, but Huck moved almost as quickly and pressed his gun to the other man’s temple.

  I was frozen in shock. I didn’t dare breathe.

  “What the fuck?” The man sounded shocked at Huck holding a gun to his head.

  “Drop the gun,” Huck replied.

  The other man took his gun back as he glared at Huck. “I didn’t know we were taking souvenirs.”

  Huck removed his gun from the other man’s head.

  “If the two of you could refrain from killing each other while I try to get our asses out of this fucking compound, that would be fantastic,” the driver drawled.

  The other man looked at me one more time, then shook his head in disgust before turning back around. “This is your ass,” the man said. “Blaise is not gonna be happy.”

  No one said anything for several minutes, and it wasn’t lost on me that Huck continued to hold his gun as if he would need it at any moment. I was definitely not out of danger. His hand remained on my back, keeping me low, and I didn’t try to move. My arms cramped, and I was sure my wrists were raw, but I didn’t care. This was better than a bullet in my head.

  Huck’s hand wrapped around my arm, and he pulled me up. I cried out as the rope dug deeper into my tender flesh.

  “Dammit,” he muttered, and his hands moved to my wrists.

  I remained still while he untied me.

  “Did you just fucking untie the bitch?” Gage asked.

  “Call her a bitch one more time, and I’ll make you mine,” Huck snarled.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? I know you got a thing for big tits and fat asses, but, Jesus Christ, did you have to take that one? You could have gone to the damn club tonight and gotten one of the girls there.”