Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I sit on the couch in my house back in Pennsylvania, staring at my cell phone. I had to shut it off because I’m tired of ignoring all the calls and texts. Ashtyn has been blowing it up along with Kashton, but again, there’s still nothing from Saint.

Charlotte has started calling me too. I didn’t forget that I was supposed to see her today. I just don’t care. I don’t have time for whatever bullshit the Lords are up to with her.

Unless they’re handing her to me to fuck, I’m not interested. And as much as I want nothing more than her naked and tied to my bed, I just don’t have the energy to listen to her ask me about my feelings right now.

Ignoring my phone, I look at the pictures I have spread across my coffee table. They’re of Benny and another guy that I found in the wicker basket back in Vegas. I’ve never seen him before, but that doesn’t say much. We know very little about Benny to begin with, let alone anyone he knew. He obviously worked for the Lords because he worked with Ashtyn’s mother and Laura four years ago. But a lot could happen in that amount of time.

Reaching out, I pick up the glass of vodka and take a sip. My body is fucking killing me this afternoon. Everything hurts. I need movement. Standing, I grab my pack of cigarettes and lighter. Making my way to the sliding glass door, I step outside and onto the wraparound porch.

I light up the cigarette and take a long drag, letting the nicotine fill my lungs. Closing my eyes, I hang my head and like a video playing on repeat, the past month of my life flashes in short clips.

“I’ve always loved you, Ashtyn.”

“Haidyn—”

I open my eyes and take another long inhale from the cigarette, listening to the sound of the wind through the Pennsylvania woods. It wasn’t a lie. I love her, but how could I not? I love my brothers just as much. I’d do anything for any of them.

For four years, I pretended to hate her whenever someone mentioned her name. Because it was easier than telling the truth that I helped her run away from the life she was supposed to have.

I just wanted one night with her. To take her out to a nice dinner and let her see that her life wasn’t over just because Saint dragged her back. I wanted her to know I didn’t rat her out. I kept my promise to keep her safe.

Adam was still pretending to be MIA and her parents dead. I needed to make sure that she knew she could count on me. Just like before.

Running a hand through my hair, I bow my head, hating that Benny ruined my plans for that night.

“Ashtyn?” I shout. “Ashtyn. I’m going to pull you out.”

I grab her arm and yank her through the broken glass of the SUV. “Ash?” She flinches at my tone, and I pull her to a sitting position. Her eyes meet mine, but she’s not seeing me. “What hurts?” I demand. My hands push strands of hair from her bloody face. “Breathe!” She tries to push me away, but I grip her face in my hands. “Fucking breathe, Ash. Come on, baby girl. Take in a deep breath for me.”

She begins to choke and then cough. “That’s it. Deep breaths. One after the other.”

“Hai-dyn.” Her body trembles in my hands.

“Don’t fucking talk, Ash. Just breathe for me.”

Her hands go to her chest, and she yanks on her dress. “Burns…”

“You’re okay. It’s okay.” I run my knuckles down her face, wiping away her tears.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispers.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Hai—”

She’s yanked from the ground by her hair as she screams. A man pulls the back of her to his front, wrapping his arm around her neck.

I slowly get to my feet and lift my hands in the air. “Let her go.”

Her hands dig into his arm, trying to fight him off, but it’s useless. She’s too weak after the car wreck that we just had. I’m guessing this is the bastard who ran us off the road.

He laughs at her efforts. “Haidyn. It’s good to see you again.”

Who the fuck is this? “Let her go!” I shout, stepping forward.

He pulls out a gun and presses the end of the barrel into her cheek. “What would Saint say if he knew what you’ve done to his girl?”

My jaw sharpens, and I look at her before looking at the masked man behind her. How does he know what we’ve done?

“Get in the van,” he orders me.

“I’ll go with you, but she stays behind.” I nod to a crying Ashtyn.

“Hmm, as tempting as that is, that’s not happening.”

I run a hand down my bloody face. I’m so over this shit. “Then you can go fuck yourself.”

The man laughs once more before he points the gun at me, and I let out a breath since it’s no longer pointed at her.

Lifting my head, I take another hit from the cigarette before putting it out on the railing. Then I enter the house and take a drink of vodka before making my way to the bedroom, leaving my cell phone off on the coffee table. I’m done for the night. I’m going to finish this drink and then hit my home gym. I need to work out. It’s the only thing that seems to help. If I’m going to be sore and have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, then it might as well be because I did it to myself. Not because that piece of shit shot me.

Then I’ll circle back to the photos tomorrow and start all over.

ANNABELLE

I sit outside the gated entrance to the house that I’m not supposed to know exists. After I spoke to the Lord yesterday, I went home and pulled up the picture of the black house and did a reverse Google search. It led me here. It seemed too easy.

It’s got my mind reeling. If I got the photos from the Lords, then why aren’t they the ones to confront him? Especially if they know he’s here hiding out at this house? What the fuck do they want from him? The unknown is driving me insane.

I have until tomorrow to give the Lords something, or I’ve officially failed. I had the opportunity to turn them down and walk away, but I accepted my assignment. So now if I fail, I’m useless to them. And I refuse to be the woman naked and tied to the chair who gets killed over a Lord. The women in my world give the Lords too much power as it is. I refuse to give him my life.

As I stare at the gated entrance, I can’t bring myself to push the button. What will I say when he answers? How will I explain that I knew he’d be here? What if he’s not?

If his brothers can’t find him, does that mean they don’t know this place exists? So I shouldn’t know it’s here. It’ll bring up questions that I can’t afford to answer. Haidyn doesn’t know I’m seeing him because I was ordered to do so.

Obviously, he knows I’m part of his world. They would never allow just anyone to enter Carnage. Especially to come and go. Once you’re in, you belong to them.

Picking up my cell, I try to call him once again, but it goes to voicemail. I’m getting desperate and very, very pissed.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I put the SUV in drive and speed off, needing to clear my head and think of a different approach. How can I get in? I need to get his attention. Maybe I could park down the street, jump the fence, and set his house on fire?

That’s a little extreme, but that’s what the Lords would expect. They put you in situations where it’s either you or someone else. We’re like rats—claw or eat your way out for survival.

I highly doubt standing in his front yard and saying, “Oh Haidyn, how are you feeling today?” with a smile on my face wouldn’t make him suspicious while his house burned behind him. He’d know that I was the one to set it. Then he’d most likely throw me into the flames, so I’d burn with it.

I’m driving down the curvy road when I see a car in my rearview mirror speeding up on me. The flashing lights turn on.

My eyes drop to the speedometer, and I hit the steering wheel. “Dammit!” Haidyn had all my focus, and I wasn’t paying attention. The main road doesn’t offer a shoulder, so I slow until I come up to a gravel road on my right. I pull off onto it and bring the SUV to a stop.

He gets out and walks up to my driver’s side door as I lower my window, taking in a calming breath. “Good morning⁠—”

“License and registration.” The officer interrupts me.

I go for my purse in the passenger seat but stop myself. Don’t give him the wrong one. I open my glove box and grab what he requests. “Is there a problem?” I ask, pretending I wasn’t going fifteen miles over.

He looks over my information, and then his dark eyes meet mine. “Get out of the car.”

“What?” I ask, sitting up straighter. My heart picks up speed.

He pulls on the door handle and opens the door.

“Hey—”

“I said get the fuck out of the car.” He reaches in, grabs my arm, and yanks me out, making me stumble into him.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, and he drags me to the front of the SUV, spins me around, and slams the side of my face into the warm hood, momentarily taking away my vision and fight. It gives him the opportunity to place my wrists in handcuffs behind my back. He tightens them down on my bony wrists, and I cry out, finally able to suck in a deep breath.

He grabs the back of my shirt, yanks me from the SUV, and pushes me to his car, putting me in the uncomfortable back seat and buckling me in. Tears run down my face as I try to adjust my body, but it doesn’t do any good. They’re too tight.

I watch him return to my car and sit in the driver’s seat, but I can’t see what he’s doing. Moments later, he steps out and walks back to his car. Getting in, he drives off with no explanation.