Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (31 page)

O
ther works
by K. L. Kreig:

T
he
Regent Vampire Lords
series
:

S
urrendering

Belonging

Reawakening

Evading (releasing April 2016)

T
he Colloway Brothers
series
:

F
orsaking
Gray

Undeniably Asher

Luke’s Absolution

Destination Connelly (releasing summer 2016)

L
ooking for a new author
? Have I got two fantastic ones for you! Dark romance your thing? Turn the page for an excerpt of
With Visions Of Red:Broken Bonds
by Bestselling Author Trisha Wolfe. Love a good sports romance? USA Today Bestselling Author Eve Jagger will wow you in
A Night With Knox
.

T
hen keep reading
…you’ll also find a sneak peek of
Destination Connelly
, the final book in the Colloway Brothers series, as well as excerpts from
Forsaking Gray
and
Undeniably Asher
. Release date for
Destination Connelly
scheduled for June 2016.

P
ROLOGUE

Ten Years Ago

The stench of rotting meat permeates the cool, dank air of the basement. A rotating air purifier in the corner does nothing for the smell, only blasts my sweat-slicked skin with a chilly, stale breeze, causing gooseflesh to rise along my exposed skin.

My pink tank top clings to my body, saturated with old and new sweat, dirt and filth. My legs remain bare—my boy-shorts the only guard against the elements…and him.

I nudge the plate of uneaten food aside with my knee, my shackles rattling from above. The chains tighten, and I wince at the sharp, pinching pain. A whimper escapes my mouth.

My arms stopped aching hours ago—my muscles numb. If I stand, the feeling will come alive with unbearable agony. My calves still burn from the stretching. I no longer feel my toes, either. I wriggle them, trying to force circulation into my feet and legs, the cold cement floor fighting back against my attempt.

Three days
.
Five
.
A week
? With no windows, no light from outside, there’s no way to be sure. Time doesn’t pass down here; it stalled and the world quit spinning the moment he touched me. Invaded me. And I stopped existing.

I’ve tried to measure my time trapped in this dungeon by his comings and goings—but they’re too sporadic. Sometimes I’m left alone for so long, I fear he’s forgotten about me. Then I’m sickened by the realization that I actually fear he won’t return.

Twisted.

At first, I screamed. I screamed for hours until my throat burned and my voice gave. He never covered my mouth. So the only thing I know for sure is that I’m somewhere far enough away where he doesn’t worry about me being heard. No. He likes my screams. That’s the first thing I learned. Then I learned to hold them in. Not to encourage him.

My body ices over with dread as my gaze swings to the cross.

I made the mistake of demanding to know what it was used for…having spent hours staring at it, fearing it…and then he
showed
me.

Not today
. Please, not today. A hot tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe the side of my face against my arm. He can’t see me broken. Because when he knows I’m broken—when he’s mastered me—I’ll be of no more use.

I pull at my memories, try to find a sanctuary.

So stupid. So, so stupid. My lips tremble as I recount my actions that brought me here. That dumb fight with Brandon, the one where I slammed his car door and stormed off—I can hardly remember why I was so angry.

He was texting some other girl. That was it. Then it blew up from there. Accusations and claims that I’m crazy. Girls are always the crazy ones. We never actually see what’s right before our eyes.

Furious, I walked off on my own, desperate to be away from him and empowered by the right to be a strong, independent woman who didn’t need her cheating boyfriend to drive her home. Damn if I wouldn’t walk myself right there. Then—

The night swallowed me.

And I’ve been engulfed, surrounded by its darkness ever since. I now know what evil lurks where even the light is afraid to shine.

A
thump
from above hitches my breathing.

Oh, God. I want the fear back. I wish my limbs would quake—that my body would shrivel up and my mind would space. I’ve moved past that fight or flight adrenaline rush, though. I’ve moved on to acceptance. And I want his touch to kill me.

I just want this to end.

As his footsteps travel down the steps, echoing against the cement walls, I decide I’m broken. Just let him see me break. That’s all he wants, then the torment will end.

And when I meet his intense gray eyes—no mask to protect his features—I know. This
is
my end. He’s no longer concerned about my escape, or someone finding me. I’ll never be able to utter his likeness to a soul.

His tall, muscular form moves to the wall behind me and he cranks a lever. My chains jerk taut, and I’m forced to my feet. My arms and body stretch thin, fire-hot needles attacking my arms and calves, my toes just scraping the floor. I shut my eyes against the pain and bite down on my lip to stifle the scream slithering up my throat.

He hates this. He’ll punish me. He wants to see my fear through the windows of my soul. Smell my sweaty skin. Taste my terror. If I anger him enough, maybe he’ll make it quick.

The feel of his calloused fingers gliding along my skin knots my stomach. “You’re being a bad girl again, I see.” They trail down, down my arms. Down my ribs, and farther to my waist. The chains jangle at my uncontrollable tremble. “My dirty girl.” His guttural voice surrounds me, blanketing my body with malicious intent, and my vision tunnels until I detach, removed far away from myself.

But he doesn’t allow me to stay there. He always brings me back.

The second his fingers dip beneath the front of my underwear, I seize with awareness. I’m present. I
feel
. Shocked into alertness, I fight back. Writhing against his iron-fisted hold, I force my legs closed. The same dance every time.

I never win.

He bites my earlobe and his feet move between mine, kicking them apart, before he wraps one large leg around my thigh to lock me in place. The struggle only urges him on—I have to stop fighting. And when I do, accepting my punishment, praying he’s quick…my fucking treacherous body deceives me.

I feel myself slick against his rough fingers. I cringe and squeeze my eyes closed tighter.

“Yes,” he says against my ear. “There’s my fucking dirty girl. You can’t hide from me.” He pinches me hard, wrenching a cry from my mouth, and then his hand is gone.

He backs away just enough to grip the hem of my tank top, then I hear the loud tear of material, fibers ripping, shredding the seams of my sanity. The cool air assaults my skin. My whole body shivers, fright enveloping me. A cold, hard object lightly grazes my bare back.

I shudder slightly, attempting to keep from flinching. I know what that object is; his favorite. He’s wasting no time getting to his good part. I keep my eyes sealed shut. Do not react.

I sense his presence before me, moving in, as he drags the cane along my stomach. “Look at me, Sadie.”

My eyes fly open. He’s never used my name before. Never wanted me to feel like a person. I’m his pet. His possession. At this point, I almost inherently believe that.

His face is not how I pictured it behind his mask. He’s younger than my parents; thirtyish, maybe. Dark strands of hair layer a handsome face. It’s all wrong. He should be vile. Inhuman. Not blessed with… I almost think
beauty
. But I cannot even utter that word in my head without the nauseous tumble pulling me under.

I never want to hear that word again.

He leans down, cane pressed against my belly. His hot breath sears my shoulder. “You’re not like the others,” he whispers. “They didn’t enjoy their punishment.”

My jaw tightens, my neck quivers, making my head shake from the restraint. Fear evaporates, and anger bursts forth. “You’re sick. I’m nothing like you.”

My head is yanked back as he digs his fingers into my hair and grips at my scalp. His gray eyes widen. Face right before mine. “Remember, Sadie. Every time you suck a dick, every time you fucking come, see
these
eyes watching you. I know where you live.” His tongue snakes out to lick my chin. “Now, let’s have some fun before we’re interrupted.”

The confusion at his words pushes my eyebrows together, but I’m not lost for long. In the moment he raises the cane to strike, a
bang
reverberates through the room, followed by stomps against the ceiling. My captor releases my hair. Fury ignites his eyes, his silver irises aglow with rage.

He pushes me away from him and snaps the cane apart, revealing a blade lodged at the head. I swing back into his arms as the footfalls grow louder. He moves behind me and clutches me against his chest, the blade pressed to my throat.

“God, what I could’ve done with you, accomplished, if I’d had more time. Never forget your lessons.” The blade drags along my collarbone, a searing fire splitting my skin and bone, and a shrill scream scrapes my throat as it claws free. “You were truly special, my filthy Sadie.”

Blackness threatens the corners of my vision. I’m detaching again…fading. My defense against the pain and terror. But my tormentor won’t let me fall. He keeps ahold of me; taking me with him.

“Drop your weapon!” Shouts. Clicks. Then a thunderous
boom
bursts my eardrums.

Damp warmth sprays over me. Covers me, drenching me in blood.

Silence hums. I close my eyes. A blink that lasts an eternity. And when I finally open my eyes, the world is red.

C
hapter
One

I
pull
up to the Library bar in a brand-new gunmetal gray Porsche. Bit of an upgrade from the rental I was clunking around in last time I was in town. What can I say, I had some time to kill after meeting my new coach and checking out the facilities.

I toss the keys to the valet and sail past the crowd, while giving the bouncer a nod. “Welcome home, Knox,” he says as leans in for a fist-bump, “I’m looking forward to watching you play for the right team this season.”

A couple of girls in line perk up at the sight of our exchange. I like the skin-tight jumpsuit and bright red heels I’m seeing behind that velvet rope, but there’ll be plenty of opportunities for mingling with the locals once I’ve caught up with my friends. And part of me is hoping I’ll run into Shelby. A woman so far from being a groupie she actually
dislikes
the fact that I’m a baseball player.

The thought of her name has me taking a trip down memory lane to that late night caper on that ratchety old baseball field. Long brown hair, perfect little nipples, and an ass that could make a grown man cry. Damn. I wish I’d gotten her number, but she made it clear that our New Year’s Eve adventure was only going to be a one-time thing.

Technically a two-time thing, if you count that time on the couch.

Make that four, for those times in the shower and on her bedroom floor.

I shake off thoughts of Shelby as I muscle my way through the crowd and up to the bar. “Barkeep, what does it take to get some service around here?”

Cash turns around, a hand raised to meet mine in a clasp that quickly turns into a bear hug.

“Man, it is so good to have you back. What are you having?”

“How about a generous helping of my favorite scotch?”

“You got it.” He sets me up with a nice pour from a good-looking bottle of Macallan and leads me upstairs to the VIP section.

The place still looks good, with the dark, oaky feel of the bookstore that used to be here. All the work of Jackson has paid off, the architect in our crew, whose face is the first thing I see as I round the corner at the top of the stairs. The whole crew is out tonight—Parker, Ryder and his girl Cassie, and Savannah, Cash’s ball and chain. The DJ starts playing Mötley Cruë’s “Home Sweet Home,” and as I look around I realize that the room is filled with old friends and acquaintances.

I’ve been so focused on the trade that I’d almost forgotten a homecoming would be part of the package.

“You forgotten what Southern hospitality feels like, buddy?” Ryder comes in for a pound, his brawling days behind him but still looking every inch the fighter. A cocktail waitress rolls up with a bucket of champagne and some flutes, and we pop the cork on a bottle of Moët. “To the official and permanent reunion of the Sexy Bastards of Atlanta,” Cassie toasts as we raise our glasses.

Looks like my once indivisible bachelor crew has fallen apart at the seams. First Ryder and Cassie, then Cash and Savannah. Maybe something in the taps in this new place.

Parker has always been a shameless hound, his taste for the hunt honed by his years as a Navy SEAL. But he’s the lone member of our crew of two left in New York, only coming to Atlanta for the occasional long weekend when finance business brings him to town. So it’s just me and my old buddy Jackson holding the status of bachelor here in the ATL.

Out of the corner of my eye I spy a luscious threesome with legs up to their ears and a bare midriff or two. Being traded sucks, but it doesn’t hurt that the women in this town are as good-looking as I remember.

I nod to Parker. “You been tearing up the streets of NYC?”

“Hey,” he says with a shrug, “I’ve gotta represent twice as hard now that it’s just me.”

Last time the two of us hung out, we started out in the meatpacking district and saw the sun rise in Atlantic City, driving around with a couple of leggy Danish models sprawled out in the back of Parker’s Ferrari. My head aches just thinking about the hangover I had the next day. But you only live once. Better make it hurt.

“We’re going to have to look into setting this guy up with a quality female,” Cassie says, furrowing her brow as if she’s scanning her mental rolodex.

“Yeah, between the two of us we’ve gotta know
someone
.”

Savannah pulls her phone out, ready to start scrolling through her contacts.

Cash laughs. “Don’t hold your breath, ladies. Knox is gonna be fresh blood for the local diamond dolls.”

Groupies. I’ve gotta admit—the routine gets old, but the eye candy never fails to tempt. As I said, you only live once.

“Not exactly what I’d call ‘quality,’ but the quantity can’t be beat,” Ryder says, lifting his glass.

“Hey,” I grumble, defending myself. “Last girl I hooked up with didn’t even know who I was.”

“Where’d you find her? Under a rock?” Cash may be tied down, but when the subject of random hookups comes up he’s still got that old twinkle in his eye. Once a hound, always a hound.

“Actually, I met her right here in this fine establishment of ours.”

“Nice. Hooking up in the Library—exactly what we had in mind,” Cash says with more than a little enthusiasm.

“You’ve been holding out on us, bro. When was this?” Ryder asks.
“New Year’s.”

Yeah. Definitely not the first time a New Year’s countdown and a whole bunch of booze worked some last-minute magic in the romance department. Fortunately my memory of that night isn’t cloudy at all.

“So that’s where you disappeared that night, you dirty dog.” Cash smirks.

Savannah laughs as she puts her arm around Cash. “I don’t have a problem with you living vicariously, babe. Just wish you weren’t so obvious about it.”

Cash shrugs and breaks out into a shit-eating grin, topping off his bubbly with the last of the champagne.

“Anybody you care to see again?” Savannah asks, turning my way.

Yeah, you could definitely say that. If I knew how to find her, that is.

“She’s a bit of a mystery woman,” I say, playing it down. “Didn’t want to give me her digits. Didn’t seem to want to see me again.”

“Oooooh,” Cash says. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em. The very best kind.”

Savannah punches Cash in the arm and steals his drink out from under him.

“I love a mystery. We’ve gotta get to the bottom of this,” Cash continues.

“Yeah. What did she look like?” Cassie asks. “Maybe she’s a regular.”

I do my best to describe my one-night stand. Brown hair, brown eyes, sexy as hell, hates baseball. You’d have to be some detective to solve a case with clues that vague. I’m not holding my breath.

“Hey, it’s a big wide world out there. I’ll find someone else.”

And at least I’ve still got Jackson, a solid wingman when he can be convinced to hang.

“What’s going on with you, man?” I ask him. “Too busy at that drafting table to wing a friend in need?”

Jackson shrugs. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not really in the game these days.”

“Sounds suspicious,” I say. “Got someone special you’d care to introduce to the group? Ain’t no shame in taking an early retirement package if you find someone who’s willing to make it worth your while.”

“Don’t you know we never discuss Jackson’s love life in the presence of his sister?” a female voice calls out before I can go any further. “You’d better quit before we have to call in a family shrink.”

I turn to see who’s speaking, and it’s the redheaded member of the trio I’d glimpsed moments ago. But she’s not the one who catches my eye.

Shelby.
My not-so-long-lost New Year’s hookup. Easier to find than I’d thought she’d be, and looking me right at me with an innocent smile on her lips and the slightest hint of a dare in her eyes. Before I can rush over to tell her how glad I am to see her again, she squeezes past me and heads straight to Jackson for a hug. What the hell? Are these two . . . together?

“Knox, meet Avery and Ruby. And this is my little sister, Shelby.”

Little
sister
? Jackson’s younger sister is my mysterious New Year’s hookup?

Fuck.

You have got to be kidding me.