Chapter One
Paulette
The beeping of machines is the first thing I hear when my mind makes its way out of the fog, and I can’t help but resent whatever force pulls me back to life.
I’d rather be meeting my maker right now instead of having to open my eyes and see the one man I don’t want to see.
“Her BP is levelling out…spleen…over the danger…”
All I hear as I struggle against regaining consciousness is little snippets interspersed with the sound of pacing and the odd voice that I can’t seem to recognize.
Now that Cleo is gone and I’m “free” of the Patriots, I’ve got nothing, less even than I had before. So what’s the use in waking up and being happy to have survived when all I have to look forward to is going back home to my parents and marrying a man I despise more than any other human being in creation.
If there’s a version of the devil wrapped in flesh, it’s Andrew Huley, the man I’m engaged to, and also the one who got me so wrapped up in this mess in the first place.
He’s the one who suggested me to Cleo, and he’s the one who gave her an in with me so that even now, almost a year and a half later, I’m so deep in this cesspool that the only way out is death.
A death I almost attained before Jared Lane came to the rescue.
To what end, though? I know he has to hate me now that he knows what I’ve been involved in. I mean, I suspected he liked me...since he spent a long time watching me from afar. Then when we’d talk on the phone, ostensibly for him to get information about the Lanes out of me, it was more than just business.
I liked that, though, because as wrong as it is to admit, I am in love with Jared Lane. And yet I knew from the start that it wasn’t meant to be.
I’m one of the bad guys, willing or not, and he’s a good guy. And I’m also not really the kind of girl who guys look at as more than just a friend.
So maybe Jared thought of me as his pal, and now he knows that I’m nothing more than a dirty, rotten liar.
It sucks, because for the first time I don’t want a guy to look at me that way. I want something more. The truth of the matter is, I want more with Jared because I know that if I were ever lucky enough to have him, to be his, I would be protected and loved with an intensity that would scare most women, but would be heaven to me.
Too bad for me that Jared will probably see me incarcerated along with whoever else they catch and cuff.
I lived. I fucking lived after having the shit beat out of me, and now I have to open my eyes and face punishment. If I thought all I’d see is the face of a cop and the clang of handcuffs clicking around my wrists, I’d actually be okay with that.
But I know he’s here, standing right next to me, watching me. I can feel it. I always have. Since that first moment he started spying on me, I felt him there, and just having his eyes on me made me feel safe.
Now all I feel is despair.
Maybe I should play possum for a day or two. I am, after all, a walking bruise. I can feel it on my face, my swollen eyes and the bruised ribs. I should just lie here and think for a few days.
“Yo, we got nothing yet. Jace has been following up leads on Williams, and Wyatt is still watching Ronny and Cleo. Nothing yet. Ma spoke to that doctor friend of Pop’s and they don’t want to do anything that might upset Cleo’s recovery.”
That’s Miah. I recognize his voice and feel the air change around me as Jared’s twin walks into the room. The two are identical, but where Miah is easygoing, Jared is hard and controlled and somewhat ruthless.
“I could give a fuck about her recovery. I want that bitch awake and talking before Paulette wakes up,” he growls and I feel my heart plunge into despair.
I inwardly cringe when I hear him say my legal name, making our relationship sound so impersonal.
“I don’t think we should push things, bro. Paulie will wake up soon and tell us what we need to know. Christ, just look at what those animals did to her.”
“Paulie.” He snorts and I feel his eyes on me again. “You think Paulie will do anything but tell us what those bastards want us to know? Don’t put all your eggs in that basket, asshole, because more than likely the things will come out rotten. Nah, Paulette will wake up and probably put on that sweet, confused act she plays so well and everyone will just forgive her lying ass.”
He thinks I’m sweet and confused? God, why does that hurt and make me mad at the same time. I have never once gone for sweet or confused in my life, and I hate it that he thinks so.
I’ll show him sweet and confused, and if my head and body weren’t aching like a pulverised tooth, I’d kick his awesome ass!