Past Will Haunt

Copyright © 2016 Morgan Kelley LLC

All rights reserved. Without limiting rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, introduced into a retrieval system, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including without limitation photocopying, recording, or other electronic or technical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

The scanning, uploading, and/or distribution of this document via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. For permission requests, email
 
[email protected]

Content Advisory:
 
This book is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, explicit sexual activity and disturbing imagery

©
Copyright 2015 cover by Lillian Asterios

Other works by Morgan Kelley:

Standalone Thrillers

The Junction 

Serial Sins   

The Blood Betrayal

FBI Romance Series

The Killing Times (Book 1)

Sacred Burial Grounds (Book 2)

True Love Lost (Book 3)

Deep Dark Mire (Book 4)

Fire Burns Hot (Book 5)

Darkness of Truth (Book 6)

Devil Hath Come (Book 7)

Consumed by Wrath (Book 8)

Redemption is Here (Book 9)

Dead Shall Speak (Book 10)

Pledging to Die (Book 11)

Slay Bells Ring (Book 12)

Past will Haunt (Book 13)

Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Series

Celestia is Falling (1)

Vegas is Dying (2)

Christmas is Killing (3)

Love is Bleeding (4)

Heaven is Weeping (5)

Hell is Burning (6)

Littlemoon Investigations

Blood Red Rage (Book 1)

Lost & Broken (Book 2)

Unthinkable Games (Book 3)

Truth is Found (Book 4)

The Carter Chronicles Trilogy

Sinner Repent (1)

Sinner Realized (2)

Sinner Reborn (3)

Oracle/The Phoenix Files

Oracle Rising (book 1)

The Harcourte Vampyre Society series

Dangerous Revelations (1)

Dangerous Choices (2)

Dangerous Misery (3)

Dangerous Retaliation (4)

Behind Closed Doors Anthology

Illegal Fantasies ~ Behind Closed Doors (1)

Romance Under Arrest~ Behind Closed Doors (2)

Holiday Reinforcements ~ Behind Closed Doors (3)

         ~~~~       About the Author    ~~~~

Morgan Kelley lives in the beautiful Pocono Mountains with her husband and two children. After attending college at Penn State University and studying Criminal Justice, Morgan knew her only true passion in life would be murder and books.  She put them both together and began her career as a writer.  Other than books and writing, you can find Morgan hanging out in her garden and digging in the dirt.

Her other works include: The Junction, Serial Sins, The Blood Betrayal, The Killing Times (1), Sacred Burial Grounds (2), True Love Lost (3), Deep Dark Mire (4), Fire Burns Hot (5), Darkness of Truth (6), Devil Hath Come (7), Consumed by Wrath (8), Redemption is Here (9), Dead Shall Speak (10), Pledging to Die (11), Slay Bells Ring (12), Past will Haunt (13), Blood Red Rage (1) Lost & Broken (2), Unthinkable Games (3), Truth is Found (4), Celestia is Falling (1), Vegas is Dying (2), Christmas is Killing (3), Love is Bleeding (4), Heaven is Weeping (5), Hell is Burning (6), Dangerous Revelations (1), Dangerous Choices (2), Dangerous Misery (3), Dangerous Retaliation (4), Sinner Repent (1), Sinner Realized (2), Sinner Reborn (3), Oracle Rising (1), Illegal Fantasies (Anthology 1), Romance Under Arrest (Anthology 2), and Holiday Reinforcements (Anthology 3)

Please feel free to visit Morgan at her website: www.morgankelley.com, email her
[email protected]
, or visit her blog at
www.morgankelley.blogspot.com
.

Elizabeth’s Girlfriend code:

1. Never lie unless it’s to protect her heart.
   
2. Secrets are perfectly fine and expected.
   
3. Your girlfriend will always have your back.
   
4. Anything that happens between the girls stays between the girls. OR ELSE!
   
5. Sex talk happens often, and is kept on the down low.
   
6. Weight is never discussed, because your girlfriend loves you as you are.
   
7. If there is one piece of cake, your girlfriend will try to steal it, and that’s expected- as is the slap fest to get it back.
   
8. Husbands are not above Girlfriend Code.
   
9. No matter how far apart you are in distance, you’re still on your girlfriend’s mind.
   
10.        
    When in doubt, hug it out.
    
11.        
    You’re obligated to remind your girlfriend’s husband about anniversaries, birthdays and what to buy.
    
12.        
    The secret code word is: Bacon. If your girlfriend is a vegetarian, well, the code word is still bacon.
    
13.        
    When your girlfriend is sick, you offer to bring soup- even if it’s in a can with a sleeve of crackers.
    
14.        
    You are obligated to help carry all your girlfriend’s worst secrets, and you take them to your grave.
    
15.        
    You never talk about your girlfriend behind her back, unless it’s to conspire with her husband on a present.
    
16.        
    You can always drop in, swing by, or stop at your girlfriend’s house. Just bring wine and the above code word.
    
17.        
    Never disparage your girlfriend, even if you disagree with her completely. Offer your opinion and accept her choices.
    
18.        
    Do silly things with her. It’s like a marriage and needs attention.
    
19.        
    Don’t judge. Chances are you’re just as crazy most of the time. You just don’t see it.
    
20.        
    Most importantly. Tell your girlfriend you love and appreciate her. Even when she makes you bat shit insane. 
    

Gabriel Rothschild there’s more out there than just work…

THEN…

        Fifteen years ago

prologue

Georgetown

He loved the way their blood ran through his fingers. When he’d cut them, he could smell the coppery scent waft up to meet his eager senses. There was never a scent that attracted him more. Whenever he could detect the delightful fragrance, it would send his body on a rollercoaster ride of pleasure.

It called to him.

They called to him.

When they bled, he could watch the red sticky liquid coat his fingers. It was glossy and gorgeous, and in all honesty, he couldn’t get enough.

It was a trigger for all his senses.

Then he would taste it.

The minute the coppery taste coated his tongue, it would give him this rush. It was like being a superhero, only he didn't save the day, he destroyed it. One taste and he was addicted to it.

Now, he needed more.

That was why they called him the
‘Irish Butcher’
. He would find his victims, rape, and then slaughter them. While they saw him as a monster, he saw himself as an addict.

Plus, it was an art.

The fine art of the kill was one not learned anymore. It took time to do it right, and he was extremely attentive to his victims. It began with pleasure and ended with pain.

If anything, he was proud of his skills.

It wasn’t easy to find the perfect woman, get into her apartment, and then destroy her beauty. It took a skill that many killers didn't have. Why use poison or a gun when you could ruin her by your own hand?

It was a difficult job, but someone had to do it. There was something artistic in the way it went down, and that, too, called to him.

He couldn’t give up his craft because he truly loved his work.

What he found he liked the most was that the FBI was chasing him all over the place. They didn't have a clue who he was, and they never would. While he started out in Boston, he loved that he could bring it to their turf.

They’d asked for it, and now they were his focus.

Yes, he was in Georgetown, and he was going to raise some hell. When he was finished with it, the town would never be the same again.

He wasn’t a dignitary.

He wasn’t a politician.

He was a killer. 

As he found a location, much like the one back home, he was able to scout out the opportunities around him. This was a new hunting ground, but he was still going to make the best of it. After all, he had quite a few kills under his belt.

Just the memory of the other women filled him with so much pride that he wanted to shout from the tallest rooftop at what he’d managed.

He’d fooled them all.

He was the best.

In all of Georgetown’s history, there was no prolific killer quite like him. The Feds were chasing their tails back home, and he couldn’t wait to see who they pointed at him now. The last two investigators were barely a challenge.

He prayed it was someone worthy of his amazing skills as a killer. He loved a challenge, and that made it worthwhile.

It made the game fun.

Without that little bit of chase, he knew that it was nothing more than murder, and that made him a dull boy. They couldn’t have that, now could they?

Being bored to tears by the idiots hunting him was getting on his last nerve.

He wanted excitement.

He wanted something fresh.

He wanted a woman to try and stop him.

Oh, how that would tantalize his taste buds.

He could see it now. The
‘Irish Butcher’
was going to be back on the news, back in the hearts of those who feared him, and most importantly, back on the hunt. With some lovely flower after him, it would make the game more intense.

That’s what he wanted more than anything. He wanted someone who was beautiful, and then he could make her living art when he was done with her.

Yes, if that happened, then this new area would be the perfect hunting ground.

In fact, he couldn’t wait to start.

As soon he found the perfect woman, he’d take her and make his mark on this town too. Boston had become boring, and now he could enjoy the new prospects of this place.

It made his body tingle.

He was so glad he brought the game to them.

By tomorrow morning, the FBI would know the cold, ugly truth.

He was back.

And he was closer than they thought.

When they figured it all out, he hoped it was an insult. It was meant to be. The morons in Boston couldn’t figure out jack shit, and they made it all about the deaths and not about the chase.

Well, that was the most important part—
to him
.

If the next set of investigators were just as bad, he might as well hang up his knife and call it a night. He needed this little bit of excitement to get him through the day.

He needed them to chase.

They had to be actively involved.

A part of that was why he liked the women. The second they felt him following, what did they do?

They ran.

It made his heart pound.

It made his body hard.

It made him…powerful.

There was nothing like that deer in headlights look and the pounding of the artery in their neck. The adrenaline rush was so very hot, as they fought for their lives.

He lived for it.

It was what called to the primal beast in him. Little did they know that it turned him right on.

They were why he couldn’t stop.

The little sexy lambs kept him engaged in the game. With the help of the FBI—they had one hell of a threesome. He took the women, got off, and then they chased.

It was his perfect trifecta.

He laughed in the silence of his car as he watched the quiet street in Georgetown. Everyone, especially the inhabitants, were safely tucked away in their beds, but he knew that she would come by.

They always did.

He trusted his skills as a predator.

And when he saw that perfect woman from the pub, he was going to make his move.

Glancing down at the dash of his older car, he saw the time and did the mental math. If memory served him correctly, the woman he saw at the bar would be heading home shortly.

She was, after all, his prime choice.

From the second he saw her, he knew she would be the one for him. They always had a specific sparkle in their sexy eyes. It was that come hither stare that drew him in. He knew their blood would taste the best when he stole that taboo little lick.

They were as sweet and innocent as a baby lamb, and he wanted this one to make his night.

He couldn’t wait to carve the flesh from her bones. It would be amazing to hear her scream and beg for mercy. When he was done with her, she’d live in his memory forever.

She’d be his greatest work of art.

Plus, it got him off.

He couldn’t help it.

It just did. There was something about the chase that made him want to track down countless little Irish lambs for the slaughter.

One by one, he wanted to open them up and leave a lasting impression.

And he would…

As he sipped his coffee, praying she would hurry up, he saw the shadows of the alley come to life. They grew in the distance, and he knew what that meant.

It looked like it was going to be show time after all.

Hurrah!

She was right on schedule for their little date.

Sliding down in his front seat, he watched as she moved swiftly through the darkness toward him. The light in the alley flickered, and he couldn’t help but notice how it danced eerily across her flesh. The yellow tint was garish, making her look so much older.

Oh, but he knew the truth.

She was perfect. This woman would be the perfect one for him.

Truth be told, there were only a few characteristics that she had to have in order to be his perfect lamb. She had to be innocent looking, she had to be Irish, and she had to have that sexy red hair. That was what mattered most.

It turned his body to molten heat. If they had that, they had everything.

He’d chosen well, because this woman had all three. He never knew how he’d react once he was on the hunt, but this was the perfect indicator that he nailed it.

She was special.

Now it was time to add her to his list and start the game off right. He would only get one shot at her, and if she made it into her home, slamming the door, he was screwed.

No one had escaped yet, and he was going to make sure she didn't either. After all, what kind of predator would he then be?

As she raced up the stairs to the rented apartment, he crept from the confines of his vehicle.

It was time.

She had to die.

His art couldn’t wait.

Creeping silently across the wet pavement, he reached the stairs in no time. She didn't even hear him coming.

He was just that damn good.

This wasn’t his first victim. He knew how to play the game. At this stage, it was all about not getting caught. He’d done his research on new his prey. All he needed was to get her inside.

Then the game would begin.

As she fought to get the key in the lock, he knew the minute she knew that she wasn’t alone.

Her breathing quickened, leaving her body in a puff of steam.

Her hands became shaky as her fight or flight instinct kicked in.

Immediately, she panicked and struggled to get away.

As the door clicked open, and she pushed it in, he made his move. It was perfect timing, and he knew she’d never overpower him.

As his larger body hit hers, she fell. When she went to scream, he couldn’t let that happen. Instead, he slammed her head off the floor to knock her out.

One hit.

Two.

On the third one, as the struggles died, he smiled to himself.

Yes, this was going perfectly.

Out of all the women he saw, she was most definitely the one. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d chosen well. This little lamb was on her way to the slaughter.

But first, he had a ritual, and it was time to get to work. To him, every step mattered.

They were all vital.

Locking the door, he grabbed his backpack filled with blades, knives, and other torturous devices that he planned on using on that nubile body.

His excitement rose.

This was well worth the travel to the new city and spectacular new hunting grounds.

“I promise they’ll never forget you,” he whispered in her ear before he began dragging her into the kitchen. Once there, he scoped out the possibilities. The island looked sturdy and large, so it would have to do. She was a small woman, and in the end, it would be where he destroyed her.

Yes, this was the perfect place to begin his art. By the time he was done, it would speak to them all.

It would be unforgettable.

This Irish beauty was about to meet her maker.

But first…

He needed to make his mark on this town and woman.

It was time for her to die.

       
         
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Early Tuesday Morning

His breathing was heavy.

His muscles sang in delicious pain.

The slapping of the rubber soles on the pavement filled his ears. The staccato was steady, strong, and sure. This run was necessary, and it couldn’t be skipped.

Why?

Because he was a Fed.

Because he was tormented.

Because…he wanted her in the worst way.

Gabriel Rothschild had always only craved one thing in his life, and it was to run the FBI. He wanted to be the boss one day, and he’d set that goal in stone.

He worked hard, studied, and kept his nose to the grindstone, all in an effort to control the largest FBI office in the world. From early childhood, when his father and uncle had been in the FBI, he wanted to follow in their footsteps.

He had his heroes, and he needed to make them proud. Every day, that was his one and only goal.

It fueled him.

It fired that drive to achieve what his old man and uncle couldn’t.