Reclaimed (Powell Sanctuary #5)

Chapter 1

1

Aiden

Each of my four brothers have all found their happily ever after’s when they weren’t looking. Me? I almost died a virgin.

Stepping in front of a gun aimed at my brother’s girlfriend wasn’t a hard choice to make.

After all, my brothers have been stepping up for me for most of my life.

But in the weeks that followed, it was all I could think about.

Sex.

And how I’m not having any.

The low lights glint off the amber liquid resting in the crystal glass in my hand, and I clench my teeth as the pulsing music crescendos. The incessant thought ceases momentarily as the curvy, blonde bombshell sashays across the stage.

A raucous cheer thunders in the humid room. Sweaty, eager men train their eyes on the beauty they only know as Stella.

Star in Italian.

Only I know her personally as Isla.

And I’ve developed an obsession.

My phone vibrates beside my hand. The screen illuminates but I flip the device upside down. I don’t bother to see which of my meddlesome siblings drew the honor of calling me this evening. Right on fucking schedule.

Four months have passed since I stepped in front of that bullet. In that moment, nothing about me mattered except making sure that my brother Jude didn’t lose the only person he allowed to freely love him. I couldn’t fathom seeing him return to the broken shell of a man he was in the decades before she came around.

And I survived with minimal damage.

With a humorless snort, I sip my drink and lean back in the padded seat. The arm I drape across the back of the booth paints a relaxing picture that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The truth is that sitting in this club night after night is the only remedy to the demons that moved in the minute I woke up in that hospital room with a bandage on my shoulder and an IV in my hand.

The carefree reality I’ve lived in ever since the Powells took me in as a kid was shattered in an instant. I went from the baby of the family, the comedic relief posed against my stoic brothers, to almost having my life snuffed out by a vengeful lunatic.

In that moment, everything flashed before me.

Things I didn’t know I wanted that before seemed like a far-off dream. A wife, a family. Stability and peace. The milestones I’d shrug and grin at, shaking off the idea of settling down like a joke. Like I had the rest of my life ahead of me to make such adult decisions.

One barrel.

One hospital bed.

I bite the inside of my cheek as my phone vibrates again.

Corjan:

Want to watch a movie?

Me:

Busy tonight

Corjan:

How about tomorrow? We could catch a late one at the East Branch theater

My fingers hover over the screen as I glance up at the woman swiveling her shapely ass at the attuned audience. This brotherly conversation fizzles into the background of my consciousness at the sight of her.

A stringy, crisscrossed contraption barely holds onto her sparkly, flushed tits that appear seconds away from spilling out of the top. The sequins glitter in the spotlight as she twirls and tips back on the pole. Her thick legs go on for miles in black thigh high stiletto boots. Images of the leather wrapped around my waist invade my mind.

Fuck.

I toss back a swallow and retrieve my phone to respond to Corjan.

Me:

Not available. Maybe next weekend

Or not. Habit dictates I’ll be sitting right in this very spot, fighting once again against my dick getting hard.

Because for some unknown reason, watching Isla up there brings me a sense of tranquility I didn’t know I’d ever feel again.

She finishes her set with a crawl across the stage while grimy, unworthy men slip dollars beneath the band of her cheeky panties. I toss a twenty up onto the raised platform and stride out the rear exit door.

I don’t like this next part. I never stay once she finishes her set.

The thought of watching which motherfucker gets a private dance fills me with such a swift jealousy that I need to leave. But the idea of buying one for myself feels so fucking invasive I can’t allow the thought to linger for more than a handful of seconds.

We’re too acquainted for a casual lap dance. Over the years our circles have overlapped. She’s best friends with my brother’s wife, after all.

A cloud of smoke billows from the outside, the acrid smell of cigarettes clogging the fresh, night air. Fighting the urge to curl my lip in disgust, I move beneath the yellowed light aimed at the parking lot. The pair beside me trade laughs before stamping out the cigarette and returning indoors.

A soothing breeze stirs a few leaves across the cement, and I glance up at the starry sky just as the door beside me opens.

I swallow down an exhale of surprise.

She doesn’t notice me beneath the light, but I’d have to be blind not to notice her. It’s as if her soft soul reaches out to mine, stroking me back to life. In fact, I haven’t been this close to her since she left three years ago, and my heart beats quicker at her unexpected nearness.

The end of her pony swishes across her upper back, now covered in an oversized gray sweatshirt, as she walks past.

“Isla Fitzgerald.” Pure grit drips from my voice, as if I haven’t spoken aloud in twenty-four hours rather than one.

She stops and throws her chin to her shoulder. I watch her gaze track to the now-closed door before returning to my face. A mask quickly covers her look of surprise.

An eyebrow ticks up her forehead. “Powell.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. There’s six of us, you know.” I push off the bricks at my back.

That pink, pouty mouth twists. “Aiden.”

“You remember me.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “My best friend married your brother. You boys are really not that hard to keep straight.”

Considering only two of us are blood-related siblings, she’s not wrong. The six of us were unconventionally adopted by our mom, Nancy, and Terrance, who passed away not long after I joined the family. I went from losing my father, only to lose the guy meant to step into that role all within a few years.

“Does Juniper know you’re back in town?”

“She does.” A hesitant edge accompanies her response. “Why?”

I shrug, biting back the grin rising to the surface. The motion is unfamiliar after so many weeks without one. “Just curious.”

“Well aren’t you as evasive as ever.”

“Am I?”

She ticks up her brow again and I nearly laugh.

“What brings you back?” I ask, sinking my shoulder against the brick for support.

“Life. I missed home. Got bored of the city.”

Now that pulls a reluctant chuckle free.

“What?” she asks.

I can’t fight the way my eyes trace over her from head to shoe. “Somehow I doubt that.”

She gives me a haughty twist of her lips and flicks out a hand. “Can’t the country girl miss wide open spaces?”

“With that sparkle? You’re much too pretty for these dirty pastures. Always have been.” I slip my hands into my pockets.

Her face registers shock before she schools it back into impassivity.

“You’re an incredible dancer,” I blurt, the words falling from my tongue without a filter.

She smirks. The cocky tilt punches me straight in the chest. “I know.”

I lick my lips. “I know you don’t need me to boost your ego or anything. That’s not why I said it. I’ve just been spending a lot of time around here, and I’ve seen you.”

Her lips drop a little and her eyes scan my face. The crease forming between her brows is one of concern. “I know,” she repeats softly.

I’m not sure what to make of that, and I’m not in the place to ask. That familiar feeling slinks into my chest, something dark and inky that coats my insides with a sullying oil.

Pushing off the wall at my back, I tip the brim of my ballcap with my index finger. “Have a good night, Isla. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

She pulls her bag onto her shoulder and grips the strap in a fist. “I’m sure you will.”

Her hesitant retreat washes away a little of that oil.

I watch her walk to her car, not bothering to leave until she’s tucked safely inside and driving out of the parking lot.

Only then do I make my way through the dark to my sedan at the edge of the lot, climb inside, and drive back to the lonely silence waiting for me at home.