Redemption Hills: The Complete Collection

2. Aster

TWO

ASTER

“You bastard.” The accusation flew from my mouth.

Horror that sliced through the pressure-addled air. Through the bitterness that had poisoned the oxygen.

Toxic.

Lethal.

So malignant I thought I would suffocate.

How could he even suggest it? He had no idea what he was doing. How dangerous this was. What was riding on the line.

Logan Lawson merely cocked his head to the side. Vile arrogance lapped from him on waves, the man a stake impaled directly into my mangled heart.

Seeing him had nearly done me in. Dropped me to my knees. But I had to stand strong.

“You can’t do this, Logan.” My voice was anguished. “I am not an asset. Not a plaything to be bought or sold.”

Such a lie. I’d been a possession since the day I was born. Paraded by my father like merchandise.

Logan smirked back like he was enjoying my outrage. Feeding off my pain.

He wanted to hurt me, and it killed me that he did.

What did I expect? Something different than his hatred? It wasn’t as if I could wipe the memory of the last time I’d seen him seven years ago. It wasn’t like I could forget what had been written in his expression.

I’d crushed him.

Devastated him.

Almost as much as I’d devastated myself.

Now he watched me with this hollowed-out disdain that made my skin crawl.

Like death had come to smother him, but the only thing it’d managed to rob him of was his soul.

Because his body was alive. Bristling with strength. Tall. So tall. The man built of sinewy, bristling muscle. Fierce but trim. A viper who would strike.

Perfect beneath his designer suit. Every chiseled angle of his unforgettable face was ethereal, but there was no mistaking the demon lying underneath.

He wore his beard short and trimmed, his dark, dark hair short but long enough on top that it appeared carelessly mussed.

And his eyes—they were the deepest green set in a thousand, intricate layers. Swirled in blacks and golds and old forgotten dreams that he was supposed to have shared with me.

Now they appeared as stones that would forever haunt me in the night.

Malachite.

I ached just looking at him, like if I stared long enough, maybe I could reach through time and space to the man I’d once believed him to be.

Clearly, that man was long since gone.

In pure arrogance, he stood from his chair as if he thought he’d won, while my spineless husband sat fuming in visions of retaliation, his tongue locked in his ignorant mouth as he fisted and unfisted his hands.

No question, Jarek would make good on the visions. He had a legion of monsters at his beck and call.

And it didn’t matter if Logan stood there like he wished death upon me, I wanted to fly around the table, grab him, and tell him not to be a fool.

All while I had the urge to spit in his smug, obscenely handsome face.

I could take his anger, but I wasn’t sure how to take the callousness of what he’d become.

“Get your things…a coat would be good.” Logan said it so nonchalantly, as if I were just another possession, while he was presented with two sets of keys—his own and another man’s who had lost a Mercedes. A man who had laughed and clapped Logan on the back as if it had all been in good fun.

The entire act made me want to throw up. The avarice and gluttony.

“We wouldn’t want you to get cold, now, would we?” Logan’s head tipped to the side. His chosen words might have indicated he cared, but the arch of his brow was pure condescension.

My heart raced, and I stumbled another step backward. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Logan’s expression darkened as he tucked a stack of cash into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Jarek shoved from his chair, his voice a haggard accusation as he sputtered, “That game was fixed. This was a fucking setup. There is no way he had a straight flush. It’s not possible, and everyone here knows it. I’m leaving…with my wife.”

Haille Manchief chuckled as he took in the exchange.

Clearly, it was the ulterior games the man was interested in. The carnage and the aftermath.

I’d made it my business to listen, and yesterday, I’d overheard Jarek talking with his bookie that Haille was the one to see if he needed to earn big and quick.

It hadn’t gone as he’d planned.

Jarek grabbed me by the elbow. Was it wrong I wanted to punch him in the face? This was his fault. He’d gotten himself into this mess, the details obscured, but I’d heard the rumblings.

Had felt his unease.

A desperation that had underscored his already slimy demeanor.

But these were the types of perilous situations by which he lived.

A rumble of discomfited laughter and quiet speculation floated through the room, and my nerves rushed beneath the surface of my skin as I witnessed the raw amusement in Haille’s eyes and the cold caution that ridged the guard who’d led us downstairs.

“We honor our bets when we sit at this table, Mr. Urso,” Haille warned in a low voice.

Jarek looked like he was going to snap when he glared at the man.

The rest of the players might have found this entertaining, but from a young age, I’d known that in the end it was always blood on the line.

I wrangled out of Jarek’s hold and backed away.

“I’m not going anywhere with either of you.” The revulsion and sickness I’d carried for years spewed from my mouth as my attention swung between him and Logan.

I was done. So done. Let the pieces fall where they may, but I was finished being a pawn.

Before anyone could stop me, I turned and ran upstairs, my heels clacking on the wooden steps as I went. I fisted the slippery material of the skirt of my dress to keep myself from tripping over its length.

Hitting the top landing, I flew as fast as five-inch heels would take me, racing across the warmth of the fire-laden room, the flickers of flames that burned from the hearth casting a fake comfort on the house that was nothing but a viper’s den.

Footsteps pounded behind me.

Jarek.

He reached me just as I made it to the coat rack in the foyer. He snatched me by the wrist.

Hard enough the sting of it spiked on my skin.

Or maybe it was only the hatred I felt for him.

Whirling around, I tried to yank myself free. “Let me go.”

He tightened his hold, nails digging into my flesh, but it was his voice that penetrated like a spear. “Let you go? You’re my wife, and you’re leaving with me. Right now.”

I struggled to get free. “I said to let me go.”

When I didn’t give in, he shoved me against the wall, his foul being looming over me. “Make me look like a fool and see what happens, Aster. I’m warning you now.”

“And if you don’t remove your hands from my prize, tomorrow, you no longer exist.” The ice in Logan’s words froze the air.

Jarek stilled, and my attention whipped around the room. Searching for a way out.

Fight or flight.

I intended both.

Then Jarek laughed. “I think you’ve forgotten who I am.”

Logan smirked, so confident I was afraid he had forgotten. I was worried he’d gotten so far from that world he didn’t remember what was at stake.

“Nah. I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t care. Now if you’d let her go.” Logan straightened his suit jacket.

Jarek’s teeth gnashed, though his hand loosened. I took it as my opportunity to shoot into action, and I wound out from under his hold and rushed for my coat.

I threw it on, and I forced myself not to listen to the words that were exchanged, the vibration of hostility, the blood that would be shed.

All I wanted was to get my things and get out of there.

Get my things.

I almost laughed it was so absurd.

I had nothing. Nothing that was my own.

I tossed open the door and rushed out into the frigid cold.

I could hear the commotion behind me. Shouts and footsteps and a single gunshot.

Oh God.

My chest nearly caved in dread. In a fist of that old, stupid love that should have died long ago. I had to force myself not to turn around and go back to make sure it wasn’t Logan at the receiving end of the bullet.

Run to him to ensure he was safe.

That he was whole.

Instead, I let the panic chase me down the stone steps.

Everything burned as I sucked in lungfuls of cold-mountain air.

Above, the stars were strewn on forever, so dense they appeared knitted together, a glittering blanket that went on for an eternity that I refused to continue to live.

A life that had been chosen for me.

My heels clacked against the pavement, my movements inhibited by the ridiculous dress, one that was slit up high on one side, my legs bare underneath.

Another showpiece.

Dressed as a jewel.

I’d worn it to do a man’s bidding. A part I refused to continue to play.

Hugging my coat tightly, I ran as quickly as I could down the long driveway.

Ran with the lights of the mansion fading in the distance. Through the gate and out onto the side of the winding road shrouded by thick forest that rose up on all sides and into the cover of snow that blanketed the earth.

I ran until there was only darkness and stars and pavement underneath.

Ran until my breaths puffed in white plumes from my burning lungs, and I heard the loud roar of an engine coming up quick from behind, the spray of headlights illuminating the dense, dark night.

I simply ran.

But I knew, no matter how far I ran, I had nowhere to go.