Prologue One
The prison bars jangled behind Cash Whitehead and he was a free man. A tumultuous wind whipped around him as he strolled into the outside world ready to lay claims to one blonde-haired beauty, a true sex goddess, a woman who was undoubtedly his fate given the history they shared.
A yellow cab was waiting for him a few feet from the main gates. Cash opened the door and took a seat next to the driver. “Did Lance send you?”
“Yeah,” the driver replied. “You his brother?”
“Looks give me away, yeah?”
“You’ve been on the inside for what, ten or twelve years?” The driver laughed. “I know Lance well and I wouldn’t have been able to tell you apart. The two of you even walk the same.”
“You got anything for me?”
The driver handed him an envelope. “It’s all in there.”
“Excellent,” Cash said, slapping the thick packet against the windshield. “Let’s hit the road.”
“Name is Mic Compton,” the driver said. “I’ve worked for Lance the whole time you’ve been inside. That gal of yours…does she know you’re heading her way?”
Cash chuckled. “Not yet.”
“How’d the two of you meet?” Mic asked.
Cash shot him a sideways glance. “You ask too many questions.” And he would tire of him long before they reached their destination. “It’s a long story.”
“We got a while,” Mic reminded him.
Cash leaned back in his seat. He pressed his neck against the headrest and closed his eyes. “Once upon a time, I was housed in a cell located right across the way from Stephen Pratchert, an ordinary guy who became obsessed with a young woman he’d never met before, a woman who was the nineteen-year-old daughter of the lady responsible for putting him away.”
Mic frowned. “Pratchert? Hell, I know that name. He was all over the national news for nearly half a decade. The general public became enchanted by his lunacy. He was sort of like the modern-day Manson.”
Cash grunted. “He was child’s play.”
“Whatever, man. The nut job went after an innocent girl. She was a camp counselor at Cow Camp here in Virginia.”
“Cow Camp?” Cash sat upright.
“Have you heard of the place?”
“You might say that.” Cash studied his driver. “Do you know where the camp is located?”
“Sure I do,” Mic replied. “The property is the largest spread on South Holston Lake. It’s a beautiful spot and pretty much deserted. It’s been that way for seven or eight years.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cash said, thinking he’d just cut to the heart of his story. “Mitch Colony owned the camp.”
“That’s right.”
“Mitch was my cell mate after Pratchert served his time in the pokey.” Cash grinned at a recent memory. “In case you didn’t know, Mitch Colony put Pratchert in the grave. Irony is a cynical bitch, huh?”
Mic frowned. “Sure is.”
“I know. Right?” Cash rubbed his palms together. “Fate has a funny way of bringing people together.”
“How so?”
“At the heart of this tale lies a story about a desirable young woman and several men who loved her from afar.” He sighed dramatically. “But only one of these guys could get the girl and live happily ever after.”
Prologue Two
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Trixie muttered, ignoring her sister and focusing on the large oak tree at the end of the driveway.
Ansley balked at that. “Hmmm…could’ve fooled me. Either you’re over there fantasizing about what’s waiting for you on the other side of a bedroom door or you’re pregnant again. Either way, something’s up and I want the scoop. Spill.”
Trixie set her coffee cup in the sink, narrowed her gaze on the large tree once more, and turned to Ansley. “I think I’m going crazy.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? I could’ve put your mind at rest.” Ansley’s smile broadened. “You went crazy years ago when you started a relationship with Brock and Rory.”
“This coming from a woman who shares a bed with four men?” Trixie fired back.
“There’s a big difference here, sweetie. I don’t think I’m crazy. I’m certifiable and loving every minute of it.” Ansley waggled her brows. “Come on, sis. What’s eatin’ at you?”
Trixie refused to glance outside again even though the temptation was almost more than she could bear. “I feel like someone is always watching me.”