The Revenger (35 page)

“She was something else, I’ll give you that. But damn, how many years were you, like, Darth Vader’s evil stepmother? That’s a hell of a turnaround.” Jack had twisted his Corona in the sand as well.

“Yeah. Sleep with one eye open, Devlin. You never know.” Silas wanted the topic changed, but Jack wasn’t through.

“We’ve got two really ugly dogs,” he’d said. “One of them shits on the living room floor every fucking day. I mean, do you feel where I’m coming from? Old Silas would have shot the thing dead on day one.” Jack had grimaced.

“Do you think there’s redemption for an asshole like that? Maybe she got something through to me. When I think of ways to make changes, it feels better than making a million dollars.” Silas had sighed. “I sound like a pussy.”

“I fucking love pussy, so rock on, brother. I’m not trying to bust your balls. I just want to make sure this will stick before I get my hopes up. We’re living the dream.” He’d gestured wildly to the surrounding landscape. “I knew there was a chance for you. Just want it to last.” Jack had picked up his beer for another swig.

“I can try. I owe that to her.” Silas picked up his bottle and held it out for Jack to tap.

Together they had toasted: “To Savvy.”

And now, as his customers approached, Silas hoped this battle between the man his father had created and the man Jack believed he could be was one worth fighting. He knew Savannah would think it was, and that kept him pushing forward.

*~*~*~*

Boston looked at the gravestone, no longer blank like the first time he’d visited it.

Kal, Savvy, and Sara Raine

A forever family

Toby had finally had the stone etched. Boston touched the sharp edges in the words and glanced up to see Match still sitting back in the car, probably listening to music. Their relationship remained complicated. After all, Match’s poor decisions had locked him into the life he’d had with Sagan. But they’d also brought Savvy into his life.

She. She was extraordinary—not a breath of fresh air but a hurricane force for him. She refused to let his mind settle, even after her death. She’d want more for him than perpetually mourning her loss.

So today was goodbye, officially. He reached in his pocket and found her wedding ring. Just a thin gold band. Nothing flashy. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking out loud, albeit quietly. It had taken him years to get to this point. To be ready.

“Hey, Savvy. I don’t know how to start this. I guess I miss you. I mean, I know I miss you. But you’re with your family now, and I know that’s what you wanted. Hope Trooper is being a good dog and all that.”

He slipped her ring onto his pinkie finger and twirled it while he tried to come up with words that mattered.

“I feel guilty for missing you like I do, knowing you’re happy now. Out of pain. And you were in so much pain. I guess I just hope I mattered a little. To you. Like you did to me. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

He shuffled his feet.

“I guess I wish I had a purpose now. I know you’d want me to move on, but I don’t know how. Match is safe, and I’m staying on him. Sagan’s out of business, as far as I can tell. But I feel like he needs to be punished more. I just don’t know what’s next for me. Got any ideas?”

Boston looked up at the sky. The sunny day had been an invitation to lots of children at the adjacent playground. Their joyful noises fit in here. They were a good soundtrack.

“Anyway, I came here to bury this ring with your family. It’s all that was left of you—there was nothing left of that building. God, the stuff you exposed. So many bastards are in jail. Millions of dollars dispersed to all kinds of charities. It was good work. You did a good job, Sav.”

Boston took to a knee and pulled out a pocketknife. He hacked at the soft grass close to the stone. He made a fairly deep hole, his hands getting caked with the soft dirt in the process. He took a deep breath. Parting with Savvy’s wedding ring would be the final separation. He’d kept it like his own private memorial in his pocket, touching it when he missed her, or felt lost. Which was a lot. But it was time.

He nodded at the words on the stone, wiped off his hands, and pulled on the ring. It wouldn’t budge. He tried harder, but it was like the metal had welded itself to the bone in his hand. He tried yanking it again, perplexed by how deeply he felt the ring pull within his finger.

The tingling he felt seeping into his nervous system wasn’t painful, but it was scary. He was about 100% sure he was about to drop dead from a stroke or a heart attack. Boston put both hands on the ground to steady himself, and he felt energy siphon up, using his palms as a gateway to his bones, his heart.

This was it, he was dying. His mind whirled with pictures and thoughts—some were his, some were not. Boston’s eyes rolled in his head and he feared he might pass out when suddenly he could focus again. A tornado of energy swirled to a stop in the center of his chest, and he gasped.

On the gravestone he now saw shimmery, mirrored words:
Stop the bad people; keep the good people safe
. And he heard her then, just like after the explosion all those months ago—simply his name in his ear, her voice, her words, her goodness.

The words on the stone faded into nothing, and all was still. All was painless.

But now he had a purpose.

Husband and Kids: You are exactly the reason I’m here.

Helena: My beautiful friend, I like it best when you flatiron my hair. My salt forever

Nina: You are a force of nature. Can’t believe you haven’t been able to shake me off yet.

Shannon: Your gorgeous mind makes everything more beautiful.

Tijan: For every day, all damn day. #Bootcamp

Teresa: The friendship is so easy, you’re in charge of deleting my user history and the beautiful images! Thank you for the gorgeous cover

Erika: The best laughs are when I’m sitting right next to you.

Jillian: You are more vibrant and gorgeous than your shoe collection! (And that’s saying something!) And thank you for the use of your feet in the chapter headers and teasers!

Jessica RO: I can’t believe your genius puts up with my crazy. Thank you so much.

Texas K: If I could put that handstand rose guy pic here for you I would

Leisa: Your selfie camera takes the best pictures

My Midian: Is this one kicking enough ass? No one can top you.

Pam: I’ll see you on Sunday nights

Mayhem: You do this thing like a beast!

Jen Matera: Still sorry about that Fire book.

Tara S and Meghan and JM: In Vegas we shall rule

Kelly, Lb, Sara, Lisa M, Beverly C, Nise, Patti, Michele, Nancee, Daisy, Liv and Ruth Mom and Dad (S&D) Uncle ted and Aunt Jo I adore you all!

PST girls forever! Thanks to my boob group, all the Pams, the Filets, 101, C.O.P.A and FB groups that offer so much help.

CP Smith for the pretty insides!

My SWAT Team and the Revenger Group!

Heather Wish, Dina Littner, L.J. Lisa, Roberta Curry, Ramona Johnson, Even Chin Lavin, Blair Ackerman, Robyn Diebolt and TL Wainwright.

Rachel Marks!! You made me the happiest woman!

Friends, family, readers, bloggers and author friends –Thank you!

There are a lot of eyes in Debra Anastasia's house in Maryland. First, her own creepy peepers are there, staring at her computer screen. She's made two more sets of eyes with her body, and the kids they belong to are amazing. The poor husband is still looking at her after 17 years of marriage. At least he likes to laugh. Then the freaking dogs are looking at her—six eyeballs altogether, though the old dog is blind. And the cat watches her too, mostly while knocking stuff off the counter and doing that internal kitty laugh when Deb can't catch the items fast enough.

In between taking care of everything those eyes involve, Debra creates pretend people in her head and paints them on the giant, beautiful canvas of your imagination. What an amazing job that is. The stories hit her hard while driving the minivan or shaving her legs, especially when there's no paper and pen around. Within all of the lies she writes hides her heart, so thank you for letting it play in your mind.

Debra has written a smattering of books in a few genres. There are two paranormal romances in the Seraphim series and now four contemporary romances in the Poughkeepsie Brotherhood series. Fire Down Below and Fire in the Hole complete the Gynazule Series. The Revenger, a dark paranormal romance, is finally unleashed on the world. A novella called Late Night with Andres, is special because 100% of the proceeds go to breast cancer research. (So go get it right now, please!)

You can find her at
DebraAnastasia.com
and on Twitter @Debra_Anastasia. But be prepared

Crushed Seraphim

Bittersweet Seraphim

Poughkeepsie Begins

Poughkeepsie

Return to Poughkeepsie

Saving Poughkeepsie

Shackled

Late Night with Andres

The Revenger

Fire Down Below

Fire in the Hole