Lethal Engagement (An Unbounded Novella) (21 page)

A rustling from the cupboard clogged my response in my throat, but there was no cry, so Hannah was probably just moving in her sleep.

I still didn’t know how she’d happened, but the moment I’d realized I was expecting, I’d talked nonstop about the son Simon would have and what people would say. How he’d have someone to bestow his legacy upon. I’d made sure plenty of witnesses were at the birth, and when it was a daughter—after the fear subsided—I was fiercely glad. A daughter I might be able to protect from his anger. A daughter wouldn’t follow in her father’s footsteps.

But whenever he had to hire other men’s sons, he remembered that Hannah wasn’t the heir I’d promised. He’d never forgiven me for what he thought of as my betrayal.

“I’ll do that,” I said. It’d actually be nice to cook for someone who might appreciate the effort.

Simon took a second bite of meat, and this time his face furrowed. He swallowed and took another mouthful. This one he spat out, half chewed, onto the floor. “The middle is cold, and the bottom’s burnt.”

“You were late,” I said, reaching for the plate. “I only just started reheating it. Let me fix it for you. The rest will be hotter now.”

He swept the plate from my grasp. The rare porcelain hit the wood floor and shattered, sending meat, gravy, and chunks of potatoes and carrots flying.

I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding against my rib cage.

“So it’s my fault?” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “My fault? I give you everything. A roof over your stupid head. Food for yer lyin’ trap. Clothes for yer skinny little frame. Even porcelain dinnerware.” He was on his feet now, his anger making him seem tall.

I heard Hannah’s faint cry.
Don’t let him hear her.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the steady glow of her life, even through the mostly closed door of the cupboard.

“Maybe you don’t deserve anything I give you!” He grabbed the neck of my dress and tugged, but the fabric didn’t give. Instead, I was propelled forward, my head connecting with his chest. He shoved me back into the table, and it skidded several feet across the floor. The cups and utensils clattered to the ground. The sliced bread teetered on the edge.

Hannah let out a wail.

I bolted forward, thinking to somehow grab her and get outside, maybe leave her with a neighbor until Simon calmed down, but he was faster. Catching my hair in his fist, he pulled me back and yanked me around. I slid across the floor to slam my head against the solid oak door.

Hannah’s cry grew louder.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Simon screamed. His footsteps to the cupboard were heavy and determined.

Hannah cried harder.

Panic fueled me as I launched myself toward Simon. I reached him as he opened the cupboard door. Little Hannah was in her cradle, her face red and her mouth open. I saw two of her, my head still fuzzy from the blow. She took a breath and let out another scream.

“I said shut up,” he growled.

I reached for him, but I was too late. His fist came down on Hannah.

The crying stopped.

His hand was ready for another punch, but I lashed out at him. Anything to stop him from hurting Hannah further. Maybe she was just stunned. Maybe I was imagining that the light around her had gone completely out.

“You leave her alone!” I screamed. “Or I’ll tell! I’ll tell everyone about the monster you are! And they’ll believe me. Hannah hasn’t been sick a day in her life. They’ll know you’re a murderer.” It wasn’t true. So many took ill and died. No one would think twice about Hannah.

“Whore!” Simon hit me on the side of the head. His next punch took me in the stomach with a blow that was all too familiar. Then I was on the floor and he was on top of me, fists pumping. I felt my teeth cave inward. Blood filled my mouth.

“You won’t tell anyone nuthin’. Not ever again!” His hands went around my throat, blocking all the air. “I’ve seen you making eyes at Barker and even the pastor. Maybe you wonder what it’d be like to be with them. Maybe Hannah belongs to one of them. Eh? She certainly ain’t mine.”

I tried to shake my head, but his grip was too strong. My sight was foggy on the edges, a sure sign that I would soon pass out. I couldn’t let that happen. There might be a chance for Hannah. Maybe the darkness I saw from the cupboard came only because of my own injuries.

Except that Simon’s own body glow was so bright I could see it with my eyes closed. I could feel his rage, his sense of betrayal. I also saw an image of the farmer who had just come from England and was working the land two homesteads over. He had a twenty-year-old daughter with silky black hair. Simon was already planning my replacement.

My sight darkened. Before I passed out completely, the pressure on my throat eased. I tried to move, but my body refused to obey. Everything hurt. Worse than anything I’d ever known. When I finally pried my eyes open, I saw Simon, his pants around his knees, felt him pushing up my dress. My underclothes ripped. His weight pressed down on me.

His face was close to mine. He was breathing heavy, not with exertion now, but with arousal. “Just one thing left I’ve been wanting to try,” he grated. A knife glinted next to my cheek. “Once, I almost . . . but I didn’t. Don’t need no potion for this.”

He had prepared for this moment. Maybe not exactly like this, but he’d planned my murder. Maybe because he’d decided he didn’t want me anymore, or because that new farmer’s daughter might give him sons. He slid the knife down, and in a single motion, swiped it across my throat, cutting deeply. I gasped for breath, but none came. The blood welled.

Simon gave a deep laugh that sounded demented. His body trembled against me.

I felt strangely disconnected. I didn’t care, not for me. Not with Hannah gone. I couldn’t even feel or care about what he was doing.

Maybe I’d finally found my luck like the first Mrs. Brumbaugh.

Except it wasn’t the end but only the beginning.

END OF SAMPLE.
Please note that
Ava’s Revenge
is separate from the main series of full-length novels and can be enjoyed at any time. However, the last scene is present day and fits into the Unbounded timeline just after the end of
The Change
(Unbounded Book 1).
Click here
to purchase a copy of
Ava’s Revenge
on Kobo. Or continue to the next page read a bonus preview of
Your Eyes Don’t Lie
by the author under the name Rachel Branton. To learn more about the author and her books, you can visit the
About the Author
page.

Bonus Preview

Chapter One

M
akay Greyson bent over the book in her lap, but she didn’t read the words. Her eyes kept running off the page to see if he was coming. This was always the most dangerous time. She never knew if she’d have to run, make up a story, or simply walk away with another month of rent.
Hands shoved in her pockets, she held her jacket tightly around her, shivering despite the warmth of the evening.

There he was, coming down the walking trail past three little girls kicking a bouncy ball on the grass. The trio was laughing hysterically, and Makay knew it was their way to feel free after spending the past month back in school. Their mothers sat together on a blanket nearby, two of them with babies. Seeing the girls and hearing the laughing made Makay’s stomach hurt. She’d known little girls like them, but she never remembered being one.

The man ignored the children, though his foot grazed the ball as it landed in his path. He looked just like his picture, an attractive, sixty-something man with gray hair that still had enough dark in it to be called distinguished. His brown slacks and striped brown shirt didn’t seem to be special, but she didn’t know enough about brands to be certain. He wore the cuffs of his sleeves turned up. Looking for a fight? She hoped not. The pistol she hid under her jacket was mainly for appearances.

Makay didn’t look up, but she followed his progress beneath her eyelashes. He was alone as far as she could tell. No one lingered at the edges of the park, staring in their direction. In fact, the park was almost deserted; it seemed most people in the town of Gilbert were heading home to get ready for dinner. Her stomach growled at the thought. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, but that would have to wait. Unfortunately, she still had a thirty minute drive to Phoenix to pick up Nate before she could even begin thinking about home.

She shifted her booted feet as the man sat beside her on the bench. Blaine Cooper was his name, but she didn’t really care. She looked at him now, saw him glance at her and then at the children as he reached for a fat white envelope in his pocket and laid it on the bench between them.

Makay reached for it, but his hand didn’t move away.

“How do I know this is it?” he said, still staring at the little girls. “That you won’t come back for more?” He paused before adding in a rush, “I can’t believe anyone with my blood would do something like this . . . this extortion. I work for what I get. I don’t steal from others. You’re nothing but a leech.”

Hot anger flared inside Makay. It was all she seemed to feel these days with anyone except Nate. “Don’t worry,
Daddy.
I won’t be back. This is a one-time deal. Your wife and children will never know about your affair with my mother—or about your current girlfriend.” She put venom into her voice. “And you know what? I feel exactly the way you do. I can’t believe any
blood
related to me could be so detestable.” She snatched the fat envelope from under his hand and placed it between the pages of her book, snapping it shut. “For the record, I earned this every night I went to bed hungry.” And also for every tear she’d shed for a parent who had never wanted to know her, but she wouldn’t say that aloud.

Cooper moved suddenly and she tensed in expectation—it wouldn’t be the first time one of the marks had hit her—but he simply stood. This time his eyes fixed on her face. For a moment she thought he might say something that would show he wasn’t as calloused and indifferent as she believed, but the thought was fleeting, blotted out by the fury in his dark eyes.

“I won’t pay twice for a mistake I made almost twenty-five years ago,” he snarled, his pale face becoming blotchy. “If you contact me again, I won’t call the police. I’ll hire someone to deal with you.” He strode away, every line of his body taut with anger. He didn’t look back.

Makay jumped to her feet and walked in the opposite direction. On the whole it had gone rather well. She much preferred a mark’s anger to his sorrow and remorse. The outright rejection to nosy personal questions and answers she’d have to make up. Exact sums in the envelopes instead of extra bills that tried to atone for the sins her targets weren’t willing to make right.

Pushing thoughts of Blaine Cooper from her mind, Makay left the park, pausing only to count the money once in her blue Chrysler Sebring convertible, because it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been shorted. Thankfully, all five thousand dollars were there. She stopped by the bank in Phoenix to deposit some of the money at the ATM, and the rest she put under her seat on top of a manila folder that contained information about Blaine Cooper. She checked four times on her drive from the bank to Lily’s House, and no one appeared to be following her.

The wooden sign Lily’s husband, Mario Perez, had put up over the gate entry gleamed with new paint, as if welcoming her personally to Lily’s House. Makay sat in the car for several minutes just looking at the old place. She and Nate had moved out two years ago when he was four, but somehow it still felt like home.

Sighing, she hurried up the walk. Finding the front door ajar, she went through it and into the living room. Worn couches lined all the walls except the one taken up by a flat screen television. Four of the house’s teen inhabitants lounged there, but the television was off and school books were out. Lily had a firm rule about homework before television and for the most part the girls here wanted an education so they could one day support themselves. They certainly didn’t want to return to the families that had abused and abandoned them, or to the streets where many had barely survived.

Makay knew because she’d spent most of her teen years on the street, sleeping in parks or crashing at a friend’s. Sometimes she’d slipped inside a stranger’s garage. She’d showered early at school and kept her few extra clothes in her locker. There had been no Lily’s House then.

“Hey,” Makay greeted the girls. A sleeping bag, pillow, and a couple of suitcases next to one of the couches told Makay that Lily had once again accepted more girls than they had space for. Was the new girl seated on one of the couches? Makay didn’t stop to ask. She didn’t know the girls individually or want to know them. Their needs were deep and endless, and her focus had to be on Nate. She couldn’t handle any more than that right now.

Their mumbled replies were overrun by Lily’s happy voice as her gravid body appeared in the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen. “Makay, great! Nate’s been asking for you.” Lily Perez had blond hair swept up into a casual ponytail, revealing a long, graceful neck that belied her plumpness. She was twenty-three, the same age as Makay, and was expecting her second child. Lily always seemed young to Makay, though she’d been rescuing abused girls since she ran away from an oppressive home herself to marry at eighteen. Maybe it was because of her eternal optimism. “Tessa took him out to see Serenity. Will you be joining us for dinner?”