 
The Riptide Series

### Rush
Part One

ADVANCED READER COPY.

THIS DOCUMENT MAY NOT BE SHARED.

By Brooke Page

Copyright 2018

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Brooke Page

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

"Sex trafficking is a form of modern-day slavery in which individuals perform commercial sex through the use of force, fraud, or coercion. Minors under the age of 18 engaging in commercial sex are considered to be victims of human trafficking, regardless of the use of force, fraud, or coercion."

 \- Polaris:National Human Trafficking Hotline

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Resources on Human Trafficking

Acknowledgements

Books By Brooke Page

Prologue

"Once you sign this contract, there's no turning back."

The tapping of his pen on the table was in sync with my bouncing knee. My palms were as sweaty as the back of my neck. I was beyond ready to seal the deal we'd finally worked out after four hours of negotiations. The distorted life I'd been a puppet in had crumbled beyond repair, and signing my life over was the only hope I had for redemption.

It was the only way I'd get my revenge. "I understand."

The hard blue eyes sitting across the table stared at me intently. They held pity, but like everyone else, Riley knew the demon inside of me. I'd grown up the quiet, mysterious one, hiding behind the monster who wanted to mold me into his successor.

But I never wanted to fit into his cookie cutter mold, and _she_ didn't want that either. _She_ had faith I'd break the chains and become a better man.

A man that might be able to escape the hell hole she selfishly brought me into.

I didn't see it that way, though. Protecting and saving her was my purpose, and I failed miserably. If only she knew how sorry I was. The constant ache deep in my soul was a painful reminder every damn day.

"When the job is done, you'll need to relocate within a twelve-hour time period. Can you manage that?"

Nodding, I placed the tip of the pen to the paper, a tremor shaking through my hand. This wasn't supposed to be a hard decision. They offered me nearly everything I wanted. Erasing my revolting past to give me a second chance.

I wanted the new name.

I needed the new beginning.

Because the miniscule amount of good buried deep inside of me was clawing through the ugliness, desperate for a chance to rise above the pain and suffering I'd kept locked away.

"You can take some time to think about it, but I'm afraid this is going to be your best option."

Closing my eyes, her pale, lifeless face flashed in my memory. Remembering the icy feeling when I touched her cheek, her dark hair stuck to her forehead from the salty water she'd been dumped in when I found her lying on the shore of the ocean. The glassed-over look in her lifeless eyes haunted my dreams, never fading when I woke.

The vision was what I needed to fuel my hatred. He was going to pay for taking her from this world before it was her time. If meeting my maker with blood on my hands was the price to pay, it would be worth it.

I'd avenge every damaged soul my father had stolen for his narcissistic empire.

My trembling hand turned into rage, scribbling my name across the dotted line with force. "I don't need time to think about it."

Riley's jaw tightened as he watched me toss the pen on the table. "Congratulations. Welcome to the good side." Standing, he straightened his sport coat and rebuttoned it, leaving me alone under the single spotlight in the empty room.

The good side.

There was no good side.

At least not yet.

Chapter One

Vance

"Bar's packed." Colt anxiously raked his fingers through his short blond hair, scanning the plethora of young and hopeless scantily-dressed women.

Tucker rubbed his hands together, ready to put to use the skills I had taught him. Over the pumping music, he chanted, "I can't wait!"

We're hunters—young, attractive, desirable, and dangerous. Designed to persuade women into making choices that would destroy their lives.

"Don't forget the stereotype," I reminded, handing both Tucker and Colt a wad full of cash.

"The outcasts. I remember," Tucker mumbled, taking the money. "We can play with them first, right?"

"Yes. Only if they're willing," I warned. "Don't rape them."

"Got it," Colt said quietly. He'd been a nervous wreck all day, paranoid about tonight and if he would be able to catch girls. He was good looking with a charming smile. No doubt ladies would be all over him, but we were specific about the girls we chose to come with us.

Tucker gave a wicked grin, his blue eyes sparkling deviously. He wagged the little bag filled with different narcotics in front of Colt's face. "This will help them make up their minds."

My eyes hardened. "Be careful with that." I yanked the drugs from him, smacking it flat against his chest, causing an umph to escape his lips. "Don't flaunt that shit."

Tucker's face fell, grabbing the bag from me and shoving my hand away from him.

"If you're good, you don't need the drugs. Come on," I instructed, waving for them to follow me through the club. It was busy, filled with the last of the Spring Breakers. Girls would get wild tonight, knowing they were heading back to their miserable lives far away from the beach.

Hopefully their intuition would prod them to stay away from us, otherwise, their lives were about to get even more wretched then what they already were.

Tucker and Colt's jobs were to find girls to work as prostitutes.

I had a different job. One I was willing to do in order to get back at my good for nothing father. If I caught the right girl, a _Dove,_ I'd infiltrate his twisted business, putting his ass in a cell block where he couldn't hurt anyone ever again.

The girl who became the Dove would endure some scars, but my hatred for my own blood overpowered my fear for the woman who would be sacrificed.

She would be sold to a Vulture, the sickest fuckers there are in this underground world, until the FBI would intervene. It was worth the risk in my eyes. My hostility for my father was a constant knife digging into my back, slowly bleeding with an overwhelming rage of guilt.

The bouncer gave us a nod as we passed into the back bar, loud club music making my ears throb. "Go out back," I yelled in Tucker's ear. "That's where they'll be."

Both of them followed me to the deck, and sure enough, a girl was staring off into space by herself, smoking a cigarette with a pout to her lips. I tilted my head in her direction. She was dressed in a tight dress, something she was obviously uncomfortable wearing considering she kept fidgeting and tugging on it near her thigh. Tucker nodded, passing by me to approach her. Colt watched, then spotted a few girls on the other side of the deck. One was shut out, a frown on her face. She clearly was out of place with the group she was with, her tank top and jean shorts didn't match the other form fitting dresses, and her hair was curled into a bun while the other girl's had their hair done up with hairspray and volume.

His eyes passed from mine to the group of women, then he paced to them, introducing himself with charm and ease. He was good at talking. Getting a girl to become a prostitute? I wasn't sold yet.

Finding a spot at the bar where I could keep an eye on both of them, I ordered a vodka soda, keeping my eyes open for a Dove.

Hours passed, women came and left, and I kept my eye on the new bartender. She was small and mousy with blonde stringy hair, wearing glasses over her pale blue eyes and looking extremely out of place. She kept running her hands along her black shorts and uniform tank top. The more outgoing, and very attractive bartender was irritated with her, shooting nasty glances and barking orders in her direction. The girl was run down, it was obvious by her tired eyes and slumped shoulders. I wondered what her story was.

It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when I finally reached out to talk to her.

"You new here?" I asked, thankful the music on the back bar outside wasn't anywhere as loud as it was inside of the club.

She didn't smile, but nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Not liking the job?"

She gave me a small grin. "Is it that obvious?"

I winked. "Only a little. When are you done?"

She glanced at the other bartender, who glared at her, making the girl shrivel even more than she already was. "I could probably leave now."

Smirking, I waved the other bartender over. She reluctantly came at first, until she got a good look at me. Practically shoving the shy girl out of the way, she leaned over the bar, putting her cleavage on full display. I took a long glance, a slight grin spreading across my face so she knew I noticed. I didn't want anything to do with this super bitch, but I wanted her to say yes to what I was about to ask.

"Your newbie needs a break."

Ms. Tits rolled her eyes then touched my forearm. "I'm sorry, she's terrible, and not very pretty. I'd be happy to get you whatever you want."

I flashed my smile at her, leaning forward so our faces were inches apart. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and slid it between her boobs. "Why don't you let her take off, then you and I can get to know each other on this side of the bar?"

Her eyes widened with lust, taking the money out of her tits and pulling her shirt down more for me to take a peek inside. I rose my brows, showing her my appreciation. She whipped her head toward the shy one. "Go the fuck home, Abby."

_Abby_. I looked over bartender bitch's shoulder, offering a friendly smile to Abby.

With furrowed brows and slumped shoulders, she grabbed her things and left the bar. She was on the verge of tears, just how I needed her to be.

By the time Ms. Tits had brought me a drink, I'd already slipped away.

Good thing I rotated bars as often as I could. Surely this bartender would be hard to shake if I came here on a regular basis.

"Hey, wait up," I jogged after Abby into the parking lot. "Hope that was okay."

She hugged herself and kept her eyes on the ground. "Yeah. I'm not really good at being a bartender. I need the money, though."

Jackpot.

"Can't your friends help you find a different job where there isn't a mega bitch as your co-worker?"

Abby fidgeted. "I don't really have many of those."

My hands were in my pockets as I leaned my back against her car. "Friends are overrated, especially if you have a significant other."

Her frown deepened and her eyes moistened. "Nope. Not anymore."

She was making this too easy for me. Guilt ran through my bones, wondering if I really could do this. Abby was most likely at her lowest point in life and on the verge of shattering. My stomach clenched knowing I could easily pursuade her decisions. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I remembered my hatred for Marcus.

"I'm Vance." I held my hand out for her to take. She eyed it warily while biting her lip.

I chuckled. "I won't bite. I figured introducing myself would be appropriate considering I followed you outside in the early hours of the morning."

Her cheeks flushed, then her hand cautiously took mine, a weak grip within my strong hold.

She hesitated at first, but then gave in. "Abby."

"Nice to you meet you, Abby. You new to The Shore?"

She let go of my hand and rubbed her biceps in the breezy air. "I've been here a few weeks. I needed a change of scenery."

I stood taller, taking a step so we were standing only inches apart. "You're ex is an idiot for letting you come here by yourself."

She eyed me suspiciously. "How do you know I even have an ex?"

Removing my hands from my pockets, I took a step backward. "You're too pretty to have been single your whole life, and I'm sure whoever he was didn't know how to treat you the way a woman deserves to be treated."

She slowly tilted her head to look at me. Big, lost blue eyes stared into my sea green pupils as if I had all the answers in the world.

"You must get a lot of women to go home with you using that line."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't run across beautiful women that often, and I'm not one to just take a woman home with me. I've got a bit of an old school approach."

She rose a brow, a smile lifting on her lips. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I'm not going to turn a girl down if she wants a kiss, but I'm also not into coming on too strong."

The brightness of her smile surpassed the bags under her eyes. She was pretty. "Want to go get some breakfast? My treat."

Her grin faded, and her brows pinched. She was contemplating.

I held my hands up. "We could always pick another day. Maybe when you don't work?"

"There isn't a day I don't work," she huffed.

So she needed money, to. This could work out. "How about I come back next week?"

She nodded, another smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, okay."

I waited for her to open her car door, but she only stood there. Was she not ready to leave me yet?

"It's been really nice talking to you," she said softly. "You're the first person who's actually been kind to me."

I frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. But, I find that hard to believe. There were men hitting on you all night."

She blushed. "No, they weren't. They were just trying to get to my co-worker."

"If that's true, then they're crazy. You shined like a diamond behind that bar." I took a step closer to her. "She was as dull as a piece of rust."

Her breath hitched, and a sparkle formed in her eyes. She leaned toward me, but still kept some distance. She was interested, and flattered, and I might have a shot.

Forgoing every ethical nerve inside of me, I grabbed her chin, pulling her mouth to meet with mine. She cowered at first, then melted as if she hadn't felt another person's touch in a lifetime. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I held her close, diving my tongue into her mouth. She fisted my shirt, groaning softly with desire.

I could taste her need to be controlled and told what to do with her life. She was searching for more than just intimacy in her kiss, she needed someone to make decisions she didn't know how to resolve.

She would be a perfect Dove.

"Want to get out of here?" I asked through heavy pants, planting my mouth on hers before she could respond.

Breaking away, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and contemplating. Just as I was about to go in for another kiss, she stepped away. "Not tonight."

My insides relaxed in relief. Offering a half smile, I let her go, putting my hands in my pockets before I used physical connection to make her change her mind. No doubt she was looking for an excuse to tell me no. "Does that mean another night?"

She blushed, running her hand through her hair. "Maybe."

I grinned and opened the car door for her, kissing her cheek in the process. I could have swayed her decision, but I felt like I might vomit going through the motions of capturing her.

Rolling down her window, she gave me a ghost of a smile. "I'll see you around, Vance."

Leaning down so I could see her through her window, I said, "You bet. Have a good night."

Once she drove out of the parking lot, my knees buckled, my chest heaving as if the wind had been knocked out of me. My head pounded as shame swarmed through me. _You almost ruined that girl's life, even more than it already is._ I coughed, dry heaving in the process. How the fuck was I going to go through with this? Would my animosity toward my father force me to be that destructive?

Steadying myself against a nearby car, I took deep breaths, pulling out my wallet to get Riley's burner phone number. I couldn't do this. I needed to tell him I wanted out before I went insane with guilt.

Behind the number was a picture of my mother. My breathing slowed to a steady rhythm as I examined the picture. She was beautiful with her sandy blonde hair, her smile bright as if she were proud of me.

Sadness filled me as I looked back at her. She wouldn't be proud I was going through with Marcus's human trafficking excursion.

But... she would be proud of me for avenging her death.

"Forgive me, Mom, but I have to do this," I whispered into the breeze, stroking the photo with my thumb.

Chapter Two

Lauren

"You sure you're okay with driving the next three hours?" Marcy, my best friend, asked. I'd sat co-pilot five of the fifteen hours we'd already driven. My eyes weren't tired, and focusing on the open road helped my scattered thoughts become muted.

"Just take the early hours on the way back," I smiled. My blue, troubled eyes were hidden by my sunglasses. I was only nineteen, but my life had been a cluster of disappointment and uncertainty.

"On the way back? I thought we weren't coming back?" she teased.

I laughed under my breath.

"Colby would miss you too much," she added, unscrewing the top to her bottle of pop. "I know you've been thinking about him the entire ride."

"I have not," I lied.

The glare she sent me while taking a swig of her drink was filled with empathy. "He really does love you, Lo."

My eyes watered behind my sunglasses. Why was it so hard for me to believe he had the best intentions for me? Colby was a good guy. He gave me space, but would be there in an instant if I needed him. It hurt him when I didn't respond to his invitation of co-habitating, and instead took off on an eighteen-hour road trip with his cousin, without him. He asked when I was coming back, and I still had yet to respond to the text message.

"I get that you're afraid to have a relationship, I really do. He wants to take care of you, though," she added.

Finally, she accepted my silence and leaned her seat backward to fall asleep. Marcy knew I didn't like to talk about Colby and his affection for me. I would open up to her once I had a few days of breathing in the salty air. It always seemed to calm my nerves.

YaYa helped, she was Marcy and Colby's grandmother, but she felt like mine too. She was loving, generous, and devoted to her family. Qualities I wasn't used to getting from the only adult in my life.

My phone chirped, notifying me of a text message. As if she realized I'd been comparing her to someone else.

**Mom:** **Where are you?**

Guilt rushed me for not telling her I was leaving town. Normally it was a few days before she sent me a message. This must have been record timing. Glancing between my phone and the road, I replied back.

Me: I'm going to Alabama with Marcy. Not sure when I'll be home.

She began typing instantly. I rolled my eyes, tossing my phone between the seats before I could see her response. I already had an unclear head, and texting with my mother while driving would sure enough get me killed.

"Was that Colby?" Marcy yawned, resituating in her seat.

"No, he knows when to leave me alone."

"Dearest Mom, then?" she asked, but already knew the answer.

"The one and only," I sighed.

"You're too good to that low-life."

Marcy was right, but I was all my mom had. Inside I was desperate for her to change, but knew in my heart it would never happen. Eventually I'd tell her where the stash of cash was hidden in my room. She'd never survive if I left her without part of the little income I made at the Arcade and Go-Kart Fun Spot in our small town.

"Once I have enough money for college, I won't have to worry about her." It wasn't a total lie. I wanted to go to school and make something of myself, but I didn't have the heart to completely abandon my mother. I didn't know what I wanted to go to school for either.

"There are loans for that." Marcy didn't believe my game plan.

"I don't want to be owned by a bank my entire life."

"If you go to college and get a good job, you can pay them off, but that would require leaving the lovely town of Harris."

"I've got time. Besides, I can't leave your uncle hanging at the Arcade."

Marcy snorted. "Ain't that the truth. Your cut-off jean shorts and tanks are what keep the young kids entertained, not the quarter costing video games."

I waved my hand at her in dismissal.

"Those fourteen year old boys don't know what to do with themselves when you bend over to get the baseballs and softballs from the batting cages."

"That's gross."

"What's more gross is how they beat off the second they reach the bathroom. You know how disgusting those stalls are? I'd hate to see what it'd look like with a black light."

I winced. "You can stop now."

"Fine, but it's the truth. They can't get enough of the blonde bomb shell with a booty."

"Your butt is way nicer than mine," I pointed out. It was the truth. She was part Hispanic and had curves to die for. Her dark brown hair looked dazzling with her tan complexion, her green eyes standing out perfectly with her full lips. She was who the boys at the Arcade really admired.

"I know," she smiled, "hence why I don't work there anymore."

Shaking my head, I turned up the music and drove.

***

We arrived in record time, thanks to the lack of traffic. The end of May was The Shores' calm after the spring break storm, and before the summer beach travelers invaded.

"YaYa!" Marcy shrieked as she ran to her grandmother. She stood barely five feet tall, dressed in slacks and a heavy sweater. I never understood how she didn't sweat in the heat.

"Marcy," YaYa cooed, wrapping her in a warm embrace.

Retrieving our bags from the trunk, I tried to not feel awkward. YaYa was amazing, but she still wasn't my own blood. I yearned to have the same connection as Marcy and YaYa.

After Marcy let go, she came back to me, taking some of the luggage.

"My Lo Lo," YaYa called to me, her wrists flicking for me to come and give her a hug.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I scurried to her, accepting her hug as a toddler does to her mother. She smelled like a mix between lavender and fresh sweet corn. I breathed her in, feeling safe and at home.

"Lauren, it's been a while. What's new in your life?" she asked, kissing me on the cheek, keeping an arm around me as we approached the steps. The woman was nearing eighty years old, but took the creaky wooden steps like a champ. Her home was small and on stilts so the water wouldn't ruin everything when the storms and high tides came through.

"Same old thing," I smiled, opening the door to the kitchen. Nothing had changed about YaYa's house. Same sea shell wallpaper along the back of the tiny kitchen, light blue walls painted in the living room with white wicker furniture. There were three bedrooms, one for YaYa and the other two were reserved for Marcy and Colby. When I strolled passed his room, I stopped for a moment, an ache filling me.

He'd held me many nights on top of the tan comforter of the twin bed. Stroking my hair and pressing his lips to my forehead, telling me life was easier here, and to not think about what was happening at home.

"You can stay in here if you want," Marcy cooed, speeding past me to her room. "At least until Colby finds a way to come here and woo you." She wiggled her brows at me before stepping into her room.

" _Cortar hacia fuera_!" YaYa scolded then gave me a grin, "Stay wherever you'd like. Don't listen to Marcy. You _niñas_ are too young to worry about boys."

"I'll stay with Marcy." I didn't need the reminder of Colby, and the fact I couldn't be who he wanted me to be.

Finding the room, I let out a soft sigh of contentment. The bunks were still the same, a soft pale pink comforter on one, while the other was cream. There were crocheted blankets on the foot of each bed. YaYa made them herself, a blend of creams and greens. I always pondered 'accidently' packing one to take home. The walls were a seafoam, a series of starfish planted around the window that overlooked the strip of the touristy town. We could see the high-rise hotels that would hold the mounds of spring breakers looking for fun and temporary love. They were deserted this time of year. Marcy would be disappointed, but that wouldn't stop her eyes from finding new prospects.

"You want the top as usual?" Marcy asked, beginning to un-pack her bags in the dresser.

"Sure." The top bunk allowed snippets of the ocean to come into view at night. The stars always shined brighter against the reflection of the water.

"Hussle, niñas, I need help in the kitchen for dinner. I'm making your favorite."

Marcy held her hand over her heart. We knew by the smell. Mexican-spiced beef brisket was in the oven. "Remind me why we live in Michigan?"

I snickered. "Because that's where we're anchored too."

Marcy slammed her dresser drawer shut. "We're adults now. I'm leaving whenever I feel like it."

I smiled at her. "That's the plan."

Chapter Three

Lauren

"Why are we going for a walk on the beach? I'm tired," Marcy whined as we crossed the street toward the tall, flowy grass separating the road from the sand.

"You didn't have to come with me. I've been craving the feel of the sand between my toes since we left The Shore last year."

Marcy smiled thoughtfully. "Nothing beats the sand from the Gulf of Mexico."

_Nothing beats the sand in general._ I thought to myself. Even at the local 'beach' by the tiny lake in Harris I found some solace.

The sun was low, and I couldn't wait to see the clear ocean water against the sunset. Maybe we'd get lucky and see dolphins playing in the waves.

We set out through the narrow path of sand wedged between the tall grasses. It was high, up to our waists. I couldn't resist taking off my flip flops. Something about the sand between my toes made my mood shift from anxious to calm. The wind brushed against my face, pulling my hair in its direction. The closer to the shore we got, the gustier it became.

Reaching the end of the path, we were greeted with the solitude of the open sand, sea shells skewed amongst the tan ripples. It was cool to my feet with the setting sun and ocean breeze.

"Never gets old," Marcy sang, twirling in a circle as though she were a ballerina, then falling on her back into the sand. Laughing, I sat beside her, burying my hands under the sand. It felt so good against my skin.

The waves were crashing against the shore, big, white caps bringing in new shells and stones, then swallowing them back into her depths. The sun made the blue of the ocean look purple, the sky becoming shades of pinks and oranges. It was hard to figure out where the land stopped and started. It was absolutely beautiful, and made my heart beat steadily with comfort and ease.

Sitting up, Marcy followed my gaze to the ocean. "The water is raging."

I glanced at her and smiled. "Amongst other things."

"You mean the kite surfer?" she asked.

I laughed. "No, I meant the sunset."

"I'm surprised there aren't more of them out there. It's windy enough."

My eyes moved from the sun to the kite surfer, watching him twist in the wind, his kite blowing and dipping with his movements. Curiosity filled me as I watched. He looked fit in his black neoprene shirt, his swim trunks matching. I gasped when he flew high in the air, flipping in a complete circle. "That's insane!"

Marcy smirked, fluffing her hair. "If he can handle those waves, maybe he can handle me."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't even know him. For all you know he could be an asshole."

"Or have a butter face," she added.

I shook my head. "You're crazy."

"I wonder if those guys are with him?" She stood, dusting the sand from her legs and nodding in the direction of two guys in board shorts sitting closer to the water. "Let's go say hi."

That was Marcy, always keeping her eye open. She normally would wait for them to come to her, but I guess she was feeling aggressive.

Marcy loved having flings, and I always picked up the pieces when they didn't work out. Secretly, she liked them to be short, hard, and devastating.

I was the opposite. I had my own forms of devastation, and adding heartbreak from a man wasn't on my priority list.

Marcy smiled, putting on her charm as we approached them. I stood in her shadow, my eyes still on the kite surfer.

Soaring through the air and breaking through the waves seemed so natural to him. He was smooth as he weaved his body with the wind, controlling the massive black and white kite. His body was calm and collected in the angry sea, a talent most couldn't grasp. I was hypnotized and entranced by him, and I hadn't even spoken one word to him.

Marcy and the two other boys were chatting as he began gliding into the shore, the kite in the direction of the setting sun. He hopped off his board, letting go of the bar. My eyes widened in fear, thinking his kite would fly away, but then realized it was attached to his waist.

As I watched him come closer, I could see more of his features. His dark hair was wet and flipped to the side of his head. He didn't have the traditional long surfer hair, but it wasn't short either. He was tan, making me think he was native to the bright Alabama sun. His square jaw-line radiated masculinity, matching his broad shoulders and strong posture.

Then his eyes found mine, and I couldn't look away. His mouth formed a thin line, his eyes squinting from the harsh breeze. The closer he came, the more my heart hammered. He was just as gorgeous out of the water as he was in it.

"Colt!" he shouted, frustration obvious in his tone.

One of the guys Marcy was talking to whipped his head toward the water, then ran the twenty feet to him. The kite surfer wasn't happy with Colt. I thought he was going to smack him upside the head. After Colt was done being scolded, he ran to where the kite landed, helping the surfer get it in order while he un-hitched himself from the cords, fumbling with all the parts that were attached to the kite and his waistband.

"Hey, what's your name?" the guy who was still chatting with Marcy asked.

Peeling my attention from the kite surfer, it took me a moment to answer him. He was about our age, cute with brown spikey hair and blue eyes. His skin wasn't tan like the other two.

"Hi, I'm Lauren."

"I'm Tucker."

He looked me up and down, a mischievous grin on his face. "You gonna come tonight?"

My brows pinched together. What was he talking about?

Marcy nudged my side. "Of course she is."

"Come where?" I asked, my eyes finding the surfer again.

Marcy giggled and twirled a piece of her dark hair between her fingers. "I guess there's a new club on the beach by the pavilion where we used to hang out. They invited us to come with them."

"Tonight?" I inwardly frowned. I wasn't in the mood to be out partying. It was our first night here. I came to the ocean for some peace and tranquility, and to hopefully figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life, not to meet and hook up with guys. I was hoping Marcy would give me at least a few days to settle and enjoy The Shore.

"A local band is playing. They mainly do covers." Tucker took a step closer to me. "You should come. It'll be fun."

He wasn't being very subtle with the flirting. Marcy nodded her head encouragingly, her eyes pleading with me to say yes. "Colt will be there, what about your other friend?"

Marcy caught my gaze toward the kite surfer, catching on to my interest. I guess I was obvious with my infatuation.

Tucker's eyes flicked toward the kite surfer. "Yeah, that's Vance. He'll be there."

"Oh, Vance Everret? I didn't even recognize him," Marcy smiled, bringing her attention back to Tucker.

"The one and only," Tucker said under his breath. He turned back to me. "So?"

"All right," I conceded. "But not for long," I whispered to Marcy.

She wiggled her eyebrows then glanced at Colt, who was still helping Vance with the giant kite. No doubt she was interested in him. He was tall, blond, and tan, totally her type. He most likely had blue eyes. Marcy had a thing for blond guys with blue eyes.

Colt looked up from the kite and winked at her, but soon went back to the kite after Vance had barked more orders at him.

Tucker stole my attention. "How long you here for?"

I shrugged my shoulders, not giving him an answer. I didn't have a clue.

His smile turned into a smirk, his eyes becoming darker. I didn't like the vibe he was sending me. Thankfully, Colt and Vance came over to change the mood.

Vance wasn't exactly the mood changer I was looking for. "We need to go," he was curt to Colt and Tucker.

Colt frowned at him then put his arm around Marcy's shoulders. "Vance, this is Marcy and her friend—"

"Lauren," Marcy answered quickly, realizing Colt didn't remember. My eyes found the sand, then met Vance and his beautiful sea green eyes. He was staring at me intently, and I couldn't look away. I gulped, crossing and uncrossing my arms while fidgeting my feet. His gaze made me nervous yet fascinated at the same time.

Marcy nudged me again, her brows crinkled. I wasn't one to be frazzled in front of attractive guys.

"I invited them to come to The Hangout with us tonight."

Vance's gaze transferred from me to Colt. Neither of them speaking for what felt like minutes. Tucker managed to fill the gap.

"I can walk you there now while Vance and Colt freshen up," Tucker offered.

"We'll meet them there," Vance barked, throwing the bag with his kite over his shoulder and slapping his board into Tucker's stomach. Tucker let out an umph, leaning over his feet, nearly dropping the board in the process.

"We need to freshen up anyway," Marcy mused. "See you in an hour or so?"

Colt gave her a wink and squeezed her closer to his side.

Vance cleared his throat, the signal for them to leave. Waving goodbye, they traveled down the beach along the water's edge. Tucker carried Vance's board, arguing with him. It was obvious Vance was their alpha.

"Did you see how hot Colt was?!" Marcy squealed on the way back to YaYa's.

"I had a feeling you'd be into him."

Marcy wrapped her arms around my neck from behind. "And you were flustered by Vance Everret."

"No I wasn't," I scoffed, shrugging her from my shoulders. "How do you know him, anyway?"

"Right, explains why you turned into a heroin addict needing a fix the second he checked you out. Everyone has a crush on Vance Everret. I'm surprised you're just now noticing him. We've ran into him before. It's just been a long time and I couldn't tell it was him at first."

Crossing my arms as though I were cold, I shook my head, trying to convince myself she was wrong. I'd have remembered him. I blamed my out-of-character actions on the atmosphere, the salty air and sun-kissed breeze messing with my senses. It had nothing to do with the fact that Vance was the most gorgeous guy I'd ever seen.

"Let me dress you up tonight."

Stopping in my tracks, I gave Marcy a stern look. "No."

"Come on!" she whined. "If you want to get Colby out of your head, you need to focus on someone else."

Picking up my stride, I shook my head. "I need to focus on _something_ , not one _someone_. I want to clear my head. Chasing a guy isn't going to make my life less complicated."

Marcy ran to catch up with me. "He'd be one hell of a distraction. I wouldn't tell Colby."

I rolled my eyes. "You know, Colby and I aren't dating. We've yet to become a couple."

Marcy snickered, "Right. You've just slept with him."

My brows narrowed. "If you're implying we've done the deed... you know that's not true either."

She wrapped her arm around my shoulder with a knowing grin. "I know. Fooling around doesn't count, but it's fun to tease you anyway."

Chapter Four

Vance

Trolling wasn't something I was in the mood for tonight, but Riley had sent me a message on my burner phone. He wanted to catch Marcus, my good-for-nothing father, and the filthy schemes he played, and I'd signed up to help. I wanted the son of a bitch to get slaughtered, too, I was tired of playing undercover asshole.

It'd been six months since I signed the paperwork to give my life over to the FBI, but it had felt like an eternity. Marcus wanted to expand his shady business, and I wasn't going to let it happen.

But he was good at covering his tracks. Even I was going to have a hard time figuring out where the holes would be, but I was determined to bury that fucker for all of the pain and loss he'd caused throughout my lifetime.

"What did you think of those girls on the beach?" Colt asked, fixing his blond faux hawk, making the point perfect for the umpteenth time. His button down shirt was pressed and his cargo shorts held the necessary narcotics.

"The Hispanic girl is off limits," I said curtly, leaning against the wall. I was exhausted from kite surfing and not in the mood to go hunting tonight.

Colt's eyes flickered to mine through the mirror, his hands fluffing his collar now. "Does that mean I can make a move on her?"

"As long as she isn't at the Nest tomorrow morning." The Nest was where the prostitutes lived and trained to meet Marcus's high demands.

Colt's eyes lit up along with a wicked grin. "Good. I like the curvy ones."

Marcus would have my ass if I brought him a Contreras. For whatever reason, she wasn't allowed to be brought into his operation. Most likely because she was well known in the community. I knew some of her cousins because YaYa, her grandmother, had a huge family, but I'd never spent time with Marcy. Marcus was adamant I steered clear of YaYa Contreras's blood. Most likely he was afraid of her, I knew I would never cross YaYa. She might be on the older side, but she had a mean presence. Knitted brows and crossed arms seemed to be permanent fixtures on the woman, not to mention she'd start muttering in Spanish whenever I came around. She always seemed to have a wooden spoon or some form of utensil that could do damage.

Tucker slid in from the back porch smelling of fresh tobacco, making his way down the hall to the bathroom he and Colt shared.

Both of them looked a hell of a lot better than when I'd found them on the streets of New Orleans. That's where I always found our trollers.

Tucker was twenty-one, scrawny, and looked on the verge of death when I ran across him and his guitar on a street corner. Colt hadn't been on the streets as long, but his eyes were sunken in with dark circles from lack of sleep as he slapped a drum next to Tucker. I threw a hundred dollar bill in Tucker's guitar case, causing both of them to stop playing and stare, jaws slacked at the money. Squatting down to meet them at eye level, I told them there was more where that came from. Both boys have been my responsibility ever since.

Because that was my job, find the fishermen, teach them how to bait, then show them how to do the dirty work. The entire conspiracy disgusted me, but I had no choice. I'd grown up around the business, my conscious knowing the way Marcus worked wasn't ethical, yet remained faithful to him. For my entire life's mistakes, I'd be able to shut down Marcus for good.

"The blonde was a sight for sore eyes. I think I'll save her for myself," Tucker said.

The blonde... She caught my eye as well. What was her name?

"Lauren? She was a cutie. Not as sexy as Marcy. Damn." Colt smirked into the mirror at his appearance, than winked at Tucker. "I want to hit that from behind. Wonder if she's into spanking?"

Tucker grinned at Colt, fiddling with his spiky hair. "Twenty bucks says I nail Lauren before midnight."

My eyes darkened as I watched them. This wasn't a free fuck session. They needed to be careful where they put their cocks. "They're off limits. You need to focus on finding other women."

Tucker raised a brow. "On a Thursday night during off season? Place will be dead. It's been way too long since my dick has gotten wet by a pussy I wanted. And you never said they were off-limits, only that we couldn't bring them to the Nest."

"She's with Marcy. Therefore, she's off-limits." I pointed my finger at Colt. "Don't do anything stupid with Marcy, either."

Colt held his hands to his sides. "I just want to explore that fine, voluptuous body."

I preferred how the blonde, Lauren, looked. Slender curves yet still held a womanly figure. She seemed innocent yet sexy. Maybe a touch young, but Marcus didn't give a shit about age when it came to finding Doves. My stomach lurched. Finding a girl to use as bait for that might destroy her life, but would help me put Marcus away forever.

Standing behind Tucker, I crossed my arms, catching his eyes in the mirror. "Stay away from Lauren. Got it?"

Tucker stood tall, trying to size me up, but that was impossible. He was still skinny, and my six-foot-one inch frame and kite surfing arms could do damage. I wasn't scared of his attempts to be intimidating.

"Why do you get her, huh? I called dibs."

"That's not how this works," I said flatly. "I call the shots, remember?"

Tucker puffed out an irritated sigh, nudging my shoulder as he scuttled passed me. "And what about the guy who calls the shots for you? When do we get to meet him?"

Turning and following him to the kitchen of the apartment they shared, I let out a deep breath. "You won't ever meet him."

Colt moved behind me. "Why don't we get to meet him?" Both of the young guys I brought into this nightmare situation were looking up to me with child-like eyes. What had I done to these poor souls? I'd turned them from starving delinquents to thugs and women catchers.

"Because the owner of drugs, guns, and a human trafficking operation doesn't let anyone see his face."

I'd purposely kissed Marcus's ass to get into the new trafficking side of the business. It wasn't easy, but he finally allowed me into the club, opening my eyes to more nightmares. I had yet to see the surplus of women for sale he'd been capturing. Guess I wasn't allowed to until I brought in my first girl. The thought chilled me to the bones.

Colt turned pale while Tucker huffed. Colt had a conscious, Tucker... he might have been a lost cause to begin with.

"Human trafficking? All of the girls I've gotten to the Nest have come willingly. They want to be prostitutes. I thought trafficking was drug-induced and forced?"

I glared at him. "And the powder in your pocket doesn't help them decide their fate?"

Colt fidgeted. "I've never had to use that stuff."

It was there to entice the women. All trollers had Rohypnol for the timid, marijuana for the light-hearted, and an eight ball for the rowdy ones.

Tucker chuckled under his breath. "I use it every time. They never say no to any of my suggestions."

Drugging the girls who came from out of town, with no family or self-esteem was their job, then convincing them the money and opportunities they could achieve by joining Marcus's scheme was their last resort to life. Colt hadn't brought as many girls in as Tucker, now I knew why.

Running my hands along the edge of the sink, I sighed. "Human Trafficking is the head honcho's goal." Glancing between the two of them, I added, "If you can't handle that, then I suggest you walk before leaving isn't an option."

Colt sat on the couch, scratching his head. His face was still pale, while Tucker only picked a piece of lint off of his cargo shorts. Colt might crack, and secretly, I hoped he would leave before I took down the entire operation. I liked him, and had hopes he'd get his shit together and leave. Because if he didn't, he'd be in a cell block in a month's time.

Chapter Five

Lauren

"Maybe they decided to stay home," I shouted over the loud music.

Marcy wrinkled her nose and snapped her wrist at me.

Letting out a breath, I sipped my lemonade. It wasn't very packed with people, in fact, we were the only two college-aged kids sitting on the deck. The place was nice enough, lights strung outside from post to post, a DJ booth along with a stage and outdoor dancing area. Picnic tables were scattered outside too, with odd beach games around the property.

Just as I was about to stand up to use the restroom, Vance zoomed in with Tucker and Colt on his heels. I sunk back in my chair, turning away from him. He was just as beautiful in gray surf shorts and a charcoal t-shirt as he was in his kite surfing suit, his dark hair disheveled as if he'd been sitting out in the beach wind all day.

Marcy's brows knitted in my direction, then her sultry smile formed. She saw them and waved her hands in their direction. Colt greeted her with a side hug, taking the seat next to her, Tucker grabbing the one next to me. My back was tense, knowing Vance was standing behind me.

"Ladies, you found it," Colt greeted, putting his arm on the back of Marcy's chair.

"Wasn't too hard to find." Marcy batted her eyelashes at Colt, getting his grin to widen.

"I'm glad you came," Tucker said, gently nudging my bicep with his elbow.

Giving him a weak smile, I shrugged my shoulders. He laughed at my seemingly light-hearted expression, then waved the waitress over.

Once the server came, her friendliness turned seductive as she gazed over the top of my head. No doubt she was meeting eyes with Vance. "What can I get you fellas? The usual?"

Tucker waved his finger in the air. "Yes, and five shots of Patron."

The server barely looked his way. "You want your usual, Vance?"

"Only four shots, no liquor for me tonight." His voice was deep and dominant behind me, causing a chill to creep up my spine. How could I be getting turned on by the tone of a man's voice?

Regaining my focus, I began to stutter. "No shots for me, I'm not old—"

"Of course she wants one!" Marcy interjected, smiling yet somehow shooting me a glare at the same time. I met her stare, annoyed she was about to get shit-faced when we weren't even legal. These guys must have been regulars for the server to not ask for our IDs.

The server glanced between Marcy and I, then shrugged and left to get the drinks from the bar.

"So, ladies, what's on the agenda for your vacation?" Colt asked.

"Oh, you know, work on the tan, girl time, living like every day is going to be our last." Marcy grinned, toying with the straw in her water.

"Sounds like a busy list. How long y'all staying in the lovely state of Alabama?"

Marcy aimed a delicate finger at me. "Whenever she says it's time to pack the car."

All eyes were on me, including Vance's, who happened to slide to the front of the table, his arms crossed as he looked down at me. Those beautiful eyes made completing a sentence a very hard task to accomplish.

Tucker laughed, putting his arm on the back of my chair. "When were you thinking, Lauren?" His smile was friendly, but the gleam in his eye made me uncomfortable.

Crossing my arms and rubbing my biceps I answered. "Maybe a few weeks. I'm not sure. Nothing is really pressing me to get back home."

Chancing a look around the table, everyone was staring at me intently, including Vance, looming over me at the bar top table. Were they waiting for me to say more?

"I mean, if I have no reason to go home, why not stay in paradise?" I added, reaching for my lemonade. I hated being the center of attention.

"I'd agree, the most southern part of Alabama is pretty spectacular. I'd love to take you to some tourist attractions sometime," Tucker smiled, leaning closer to me.

"I've seen most of them," I answered quickly, finding myself cowering away from him. I didn't realize how close I was getting to Vance while trying to move away from Tucker, until the scent of his sporty cologne entered my nostrils. I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. It smelled so good, causing me to lose my train of thought.

"Lauren's right, we've been coming here for Spring Break since we were in grade school."

"I'm surprised you ladies are here in May. Not up for the Spring Break crowd?" Colt asked. "I mean, I assume you ladies are in college, or have you graduated?"

"Still in college," Marcy added. I wondered if she would tell him she was only taking a few online classes and living with her parents, versus a full load and living in campus dorms.

"Both of you?" Tucker asked, his arm dangerously close to my back. My body felt crooked from trying to gain my space from him.

"I'm not in college," I answered truthfully. I wasn't like Marcy; I couldn't lie to save my life.

Tucker shrugged his shoulders. "That's all right. I never bothered with college either."

"What do you do then?" I blurted. None of them seemed to be boys who lived with their parents. They were well put together, too.

Vance answered. "They work for me. I own The Surf Shop on the west side of Orange Beach."

How fitting, the kite surfer had his own business. It made sense, he seemed older and more mature than both Colt and Tucker.

"Oh, we should go check it out sometime when you're working," Marcy said, batting her eyes at Colt.

His smile lit up in response. "That would be great. You ever surf?"

Marcy shook her head. You'd never know she was terrified of the ocean. She didn't like the life under the sea.

"I'd love to give you a lesson while you're here," Colt offered.

Tucker nodded. "Yeah, Lauren, I can teach you, too."

"I think Lauren is more interested in kite surfing." Marcy glanced at me then to Vance.

Colt nodded toward Vance. "That's Vance's territory."

I was afraid to look at him. I could feel his penetrating eyes waiting for me to turn my head and face him. Damn it, Marcy!

"I could show her," Tucker quickly jumped into the conversation. "It's not that difficult."

Vance snorted.

"Oh, right," Colt smirked. "You cried like a baby when the wind took you twenty feet in the air."

Tucker's eyes narrowed at Colt. "No, I didn't. My arm hit a piece of coral on the way down. Hurt like a bitch."

Colt laughed. "Hurt so bad, it didn't leave a mark."

Tucker glared at Colt while everyone laughed. I, on the other hand, felt bad. I didn't like when others were uncomfortable. Even if I wasn't interested in winning his affection. No one deserved to feel like they were being bullied.

"You don't have to teach me," I said nonchalantly.

"No, he doesn't. Vancy can," Colt breathed, needing to take a deep breath from laughing at Tucker.

Biting my lip, I glanced at Vance. His face was expressionless as he watched me.

His look made me hold my breath.

"Lauren and I will have to look at our schedule. We want to work on our tan lines," Marcy flirted, her gaze fixed on Colt.

"Now that, I can help you with," Tucker touched the middle of my back with his finger. I straightened like an arrow, leaning into the table.

Thankfully, the server was back with their drinks to change the subject.

"Here you all go! Corona's with lime wedges for my favorite gentlemen and their guests." The waitress gave Vance an extra-long smile while handing him the beer. "And five shots. Brought you one just in case, Vance." She wiggled her brows at him, but his face remained stone cold, giving her a stiff nod. She wasn't happy with his response. Her face contorted as if she swallowed something sour, then stormed back to the bar.

"Well ladies, after these shots, I'm afraid we need to move around a bit," Vance gave both Tucker and Colt hard looks. "We have some work to do."

Colt removed his hand from behind Marcy to grab the shot, causing her to pout her lips. She was looking forward to spending time with him. I was thankful. Maybe we would be out of here within a half hour.

"I think work can wait a little while," Tucker sneered, meeting Vance's stare. Keeping his arm resting on the back of my stool, he continued talking. "These ladies need some company."

"One. Shot." Vance's voice was low, a warning for Tucker.

Tucker glared at him, then took the shot. Licking his lips, he stood from the bar stool along with Colt. Softening his expression from his interaction with Vance, he met my gaze. "I'll be back. Don't wander off without saying goodbye."

My lip quivered as I tried to smile. Spending time with him wasn't on my top ten list of things to do for the evening. Vance only offered a nod, then led both men across the bar and through a secluded door.

Chapter Six

Vance

"What was that about?" Tucker complained the second we stepped foot into the back room. "No one in this bar is as qualified to bring back to the Nest, and you're ruining our chances with those chicks!"

Shoving him against the wall, I got in his face, towering over his scrawny stature. I didn't like to use my intimidation skills often, but when the hunting party started to step out of line, it was a must. "I told you—off-limits. I'll deal with her."

"You mean Lauren?" Colt sighed, scratching his head and glancing through the opened door. I followed his eyes, seeing he was still gazing at Marcy. Rolling my eyes, I paced to the door, slamming it shut.

"If you want a job, you need to lose interest in Marcy Contreras." Stomping to the table where both guys sat and pouted, I fisted my hands on my hips. "If you two can't hack being a part of this, then you both need to get out. Now. Because I'm not going to waste my time training your asses for the ultimate job."

Both Colt and Tucker looked up at me, curious as to what the ultimate job was. I shook my head. They wouldn't know until the time was right, and hopefully, that time would be a part of the big bust where Marcus would be thrown in jail.

Or shot in the head.

I'd be happy to do option two myself.

"So what now?" Colt asked quietly. "There aren't any other girls here between the age of eighteen to twenty-five. You want us to go home?"

Pacing the small room with tile floors and gaudy starfish wallpaper, I tried to decide what to do with these two. My brain told me to send them to another bar, but I was interested in the blonde.

Lauren. Her demeanor tonight proved even more she was the perfect candidate that Marcus needed. Timid, shy, not from around here, nothing urging her to go back home. I needed to speak with her more, find out just how alone she really was.

She smelled nice too—a citrus scent that tickled my nostrils. It drew me to stand behind her longer. She was uncomfortable when I lingered, so I forced myself to move, studying her mannerisms instead. Noticing she was self-conscious by how she cowered and fidgeted, avoiding eye-contact as if it were the plague, gave me even more intuition that she would be a perfect Dove.

Scratching my jaw, I nodded my head definitively. "Alright. You both can hang out at the bar, have a few drinks, maybe chat with the two girls some more. But nothing more than talking, got it?"

Colts eyes widened, while Tucker frowned. "What fun is just talking to a woman?"

Inwardly I smiled, but glared at him. "Maybe they have friends. Maybe they know other hangouts. Just maybe, they can give you some information that will help you earn more cash."

Tucker sipped his beer, then nodded. He understood and so did Colt. They had only been working with me for a few months, but neither of them wanted to go back to the streets of New Orleans.

"I'm going to make some calls. Go ahead on out there." Both left while I reached for my phone. Calling Marcus always sucked, but the FBI liked to record my conversations with him on a weekly basis.

"You out finding Compost?" he answered.

I held in my anger at his nicknames for the women he recruited. Compost meant future prospects, prostitutes went by worms, while the birds were the clients. I hated his sick nicknames we used to speak in code.

"Not a lot of Compost here, but yes."

His breath was heavy over the phone. I hated hearing it, knowing he was scheming in his head.

"Any Doves?"

My eyes closed and my teeth ground together. He was antsy to start back up again. It was always the second phrase out of his mouth. Doves were the really unlucky ones. They went up for sale at the Cage, where the Vultures picked their prey.

Marcus had a sick and twisted food chain.

"Might have a lead."

"Good. Call me tomorrow, or bring her to the Nest. I'll need to approve."

"Marcus, you know we need to research her before we bring her into anything. For all we know she could have a rich daddy who will search for her until the ends of the earth."

Marcus tsked over the phone. "Now, Vance, are you ever going to call me Dad again?"

I swallowed. "Only during family time."

I sensed Marcus's grimy smile through the phone. I could tell by the inhale of his breath. "So I need to have a barbeque?"

"I won't hold my breath. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it. Go catch em', son."

I hung up the phone, disgusted with myself. How could I pull this off? Was the FBI even going to intervene if the poor girl got chosen? They hadn't intervened a whole lot within the past six months. I understood they needed to have information to catch Marcus from all angles, but he had henchmen that could be taken down easily then work their way up to Marcus.

Sitting down and rubbing my eyes, I contemplated getting the fuck out of The Shore. But my hatred for my father was too strong. I needed to ride this train out, figure out where my options were, or how long this process could take. My heart was covered in darkness, and it wasn't getting any lighter. By the time we caught Marcus, I could still be caught up in the evil. Capturing innocent women for the pleasure of sick fucks would alter my conscience between what was right and what was wrong.

A flash of blonde hair breezed by the doorway, bringing me back to the now. I needed to focus and get back in the game. Enough time had passed that the bar might be more crowded. Hopefully Colt came to his senses and found another girl to invest his time into. But even more importantly, I hoped Tucker found another girl to prey on besides Lauren.

Standing from my chair, I made my way back into the heart of the bar, searching through the sea of locals. It wasn't as busy as usual, but it had picked up since we'd arrived.

I shook my head when I found Colt. As I predicted, he was dancing with Marcy, getting up close and personal. I held back my scowl. That kid will never make it in this business.

Moving my eyes to the back bar, I saw Tucker sitting by himself. Relief swept through me, knowing he wasn't with Lauren. I searched further, my brows furrowing when I couldn't find her. Turning, I headed backward to the deck facing the water. The cool breeze swept across my face once I passed through the threshold. Lights were strung along the railing, creating a soft glow toward the sand. Taking a deep breath, my heart found a moment of peace.

The ocean was my saving grace, it always had been. Gliding high in the air while on my surfboard was when my head was most clear. The wind controlled where I went, but protected me from all of my demons. Some people were terrified of being taken by the ocean, but not me.

The stars were bright tonight, casting over the waves. Instinctively, I headed to the stairwell, kicking off my flip-flops once I hit the sand. The grittiness between my toes was cool to the touch, enveloping my feet with each step.

Then I saw her. Sitting and staring out at the water. Her blonde hair was flowing in the wind, her knees hugged tightly to her chest. She was curled up like a hermit crab, the perfect bait for the shark I was.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "Sick of being inside?"

She jumped as I approached, her head craning toward me. Letting out a breath of air, she smiled at me. It was contagious.

"Hi," her quiet voice greeted. "Bars aren't really my thing."

"No?" I responded. I found myself taking a seat next to her, keeping a good foot or so between us. She remained tightly wound, her arms still hugging her legs to her chest. This girl wasn't trusting. "I figured you weren't into the party scene after you almost admitted to being underage."

Her lashes touched her cheeks as she smiled. "Sometimes I don't think before I speak."

I rested my elbows on my knees, hoping my relaxed state would make her feel safe. Tonight wasn't about making a move, at least not yet. "That's not always a bad quality."

"Might be my only good quality."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know if I believe that."

She bit her bottom lip, twiddling her fingers between each other. "You don't really know me."

"I'd like to. Let me try?"

Her chin rested on her bicep as she contemplated, then finally nodded.

Rubbing my hands together, I guessed, "Midwestern girl, yeah?"

Her lip quirked first, then a subtle nod.

"Happy house with mom and dad, maybe a sibling or two?" Her expression was somber. I knew I was wrong, but needed to feel out her reactions. "They're a touch controlling? Don't like the fact that their little girl is growing up and doing things on her own, for instance, traveling to a Southern hotspot where careless decisions are made. Am I right?"

Her eyes were hooded as she dipped her chin, hiding behind her bicep, holding her legs closer to her chest. She even began rocking.

"Not quite," she whispered. "The only family I have is my mother."

"Is she overprotective?"

Her eyes found the ocean, staring off before she shook her head. "She's not one to hover."

Her shoulders trembled as she balled herself together as tight as she could. Even her toes flexed into the sand. Guilt consumed me. I was doing this to her on purpose, seeing how sad she really was.

"Wow, I'm not usually this bad at predicting where people come from," I chuckled in attempts to diffuse the tension.

Tilting her head toward me, she cracked a small smile. "If I come across as the spoiled rich girl who has a family who cares about her, that doesn't say much about me."

My brows knitted together. "That wasn't what I meant."

She arched one thin eyebrow. "No? It's kind of what you implied."

"I meant, you seem... poised. Like you have support and not a heap of problems." So, I might have lied a little.

Lauren laughed under her breath. "Everyone has problems." She uncoiled her arms, leaning her hands back in the sand and stretching out her long legs. I couldn't help but notice how toned they were in the light of the moon and the faint glow from the bar behind us.

"Even you," she challenged, re-directing my inappropriate daydream.

"Oh yeah? And how would you peg me?" I goaded.

She tapped her chin and scrunched her brows as if she were in deep thought, yet mischief sparked within her blue eyes. "You're quiet, do what you feel is best no matter what anyone says, and beat to your own drum. Athletic, but didn't like team sports because of the ego-driven superstars, so you stick to individual sports, like surfing and biking. You'd prefer to be alone, but people are attracted to your easy confidence."

I had to use every ounce of muscle in my mouth to keep my jaw from dropping. This woman had great perception and could be an undercover agent.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she became anxious, worried she offended me.

Leaning back on both my hands, I stretched my legs alongside of hers, my expressionless face turning into a grin. "Wow, you didn't hold back."

"I'm sorry," she apologized instantly. "Remember, I speak before I think."

Tipping my head back, I laughed out loud. She was too sweet for her own good. "Don't apologize. You were partially right," I lied.

She caught on, giving me a knowing grin. "Partially, huh? Exactly what parts were correct?"

I bobbed my head from side to side. "Quiet, yes. I'm not normally one to start the conversation."

"You did five minutes ago."

I paused, blinking at her. "I did." Tilting my head down and pulling my brows in, I added, "Very uncharacteristic of me."

She smiled down at her knees. Eye contact really wasn't her thing.

"Loner, yes. People being attracted to my confidence? Not so sure about that one. Doing what I feel is best? Typically." Guilt ate at me as I lied. If I were doing what was truly best, I wouldn't be contemplating putting this beautiful girl up as bait.

"You're right about team sports, not really my thing. I do enjoy kite surfing, guess you could call that an individual sport."

Her eyes lit up when I said kite surfing. "I watched you today. That looked insane."

"Yeah, it's pretty stellar."

She giggled.

"What?"

"I'm going to add true surfer-boy vocabulary to your description." She covered her mouth this time as she snickered.

"Like, totally," I teased.

She laughed harder, throwing her head back. The way her eyes crinkled and her smile broadened made my heart pump faster. She looked carefree and happy, living in the moment. Maybe I was completely wrong about her. Lauren was probably finding herself, needing time away from wherever she came from to figure out her life.

"How old are you?"

Her laugh slowed as she wiped her eyes. "Nineteen. You?"

"Twenty-four."

"I take it you're done with college? That's awesome you own your own shop."

I shook my head. "Nope. Never finished. Took a few classes out of high school, but it wasn't for me."

She looked at me curiously. "Yet you have your own store?"

I smiled at her. If she only knew the upper level was one of my father's headquarters for deadly meetings. "I had an investor."

She nodded. "I work at a local arcade and activities center." She was embarrassed. I could tell by the way her voice quieted when she talked.

"Sounds fun, actually."

She looked at me with raised brows and a half smile. "It's not my long-term goal."

"What is your long-term goal?"

The life from her eyes faded. "I'm not really sure." Her face fell as she thought about her own words. She was clearly torn about her future.

"I kind of take care of my mom. I mean, she depends on me."

"Is she sick?"

Lauren looked toward the moon. "Something like that."

I couldn't help but dive deeper. I didn't like her vague answer. "Cancer?"

She sighed, brushing sand off her thighs. I watched intently, noticing her shorts were hiked damn near to her hips. Her skin looked smooth, and I wondered if she was as soft as she appeared.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "She's an addict."

My jaw clenched at the word. It was a terrible disease that destroyed my life. Drugs, sex, power...

My eyes closed as I took a deep breath. This girl and I had a lot in common.

"My mom was an addict too." My mouth snapped shut the moment I made the confession. Never, had I ever, talked to anyone about my mother.

Her eyes shot to mine, flickers of concern flashing in them. I couldn't break away from her blue irises. There wasn't any pity like I'd feared behind her gaze, only understanding and empathy.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" She sighed, resituating her body so she was sitting up tall and crossing her legs. "You said was... does that mean...?"

"Yeah. She overdosed." I ground my teeth, hating the fucker who shot her up with too big of a dose, doing it on purpose so he could watch his wife drown like the rest of the women he used for his fucked-up way of life.

"Every time I come home, I wonder if she's going to be breathing while lying on the couch, or if our house will be burned to the ground."

She said the words easily, but I could tell by the heaviness under her eyes the thought of finding her mother dead and her home gone was one of her ultimate fears.

I could confirm that fear. Discovering my own mother dead was indeed a nightmare no one should ever endure. The eerie feeling crept through my veins, haunting me with the memory of her washed up on the shore.

"I know the feeling. My mom was pretty good about not doing it in front of me at least. I didn't catch on until I was older." Marcus didn't introduce and force her to do the drug until he was sick of her nagging him and threatening to leave with me.

Picking up sand with her hand and letting it fall through the creases between her fingers, she asked softly, "Do you miss her?"

My heart pounded. I'd do anything to feel the warmth of my mother's smile one last time. She was the only good in my life for a long time, until the drugs and addiction took over.

I stared at her until she met my eyes. "Every. Single. Day."

Not blinking, she said, "I'm terrified I wouldn't miss her." Her eyes moistened, and she looked away, scraping her cheekbone with her thumb. "Wow, that must make me sound like a heartless bitch."

I scooted closer to her. Baffled by the overwhelming need to comfort her, I went against my brain that said she was only a future prospect to help me put away my dad. Her crushed spirits were disheartening, bringing the painful ache I carried with me to the surface. "No, it doesn't make you heartless. Hopefully you'll never have to find out."

She blew out air, both of us knowing it wasn't a likely outcome. Addiction is a terrible sickness. I knew if I ever touched the stuff, I'd fail. The supposed good feelings narcotics brought would suck me in, pulling my soul to the depths of sinister defiance. This was why I was adamant to never try it outside of a little pot. I didn't want to be any more of a monster than I already was.

I had my own taste of addictions. Harmful and harmless. Kite surfing was one of them. The need to fly through the air consumed me like a drug. My hands needed to be calloused from the bar, my muscles craved the burn from fighting against the wind. It was a power control between me and Mother Nature. If I could master her strengths, then I was in control of my own destiny.

As for harmful addictions, my biggest was the need for revenge. I was hell bent on taking down the monster who had created me.

Her chest rose as she shared such an intimate fear. Sucking in a gulp of air, she changed the subject. "Tell me a good memory you have of your mom."

I racked my brain, digging through my memories before Marcus went crazy and turned my mother into a junkie. It wasn't a long period, but I held my fondest memories of her close. "She introduced me to the ocean."

Lauren smiled, helping to ease my comfort and allowing me to open up to her. "It was more than just looking for shells and building sandcastles. My mother showed me that the sea held true peace, along with its power and force. She was a bit of an earth child. Normal wasn't her style. I think my mother would come back as a mermaid if she could."

Lauren's grin widened as she nudged my bicep with her elbow. The contact was friendly, and I couldn't help but lean into her after the innocent gesture. Our arms were touching, and it felt nice. I hadn't had a positive conversation about my mother in quite some time.

"My mom made me strong, and the memory of her helps keep my head clear." Forcing my expression to stay soft, I added, "I know what my purpose is in life."

To fucking kill Marcus, and redeem every individual life he destroyed.

Lauren fidgeted. "I debate going to college to become a counselor, but then I shove that thought away."

"Why?"

Her brows scrunched together. "Obviously, I haven't been able to change my mother. If I can't help her, who's going to have faith in me to help them?"

Her head dipped low in shame, causing her hair to fan across her face with the calming breeze. I couldn't help but tuck it behind her ear. I wanted to see her gorgeous skin against the moonlight. It was breathtaking, and she was as soft as I imagined. So much so that I couldn't move my hand. Swallowing hard, I fought the foreign feelings that rose in my chest.

"There's still time for your mom," I murmured, rotating my hand to stroke her cheek.

Her mouth slightly opened as her eyes fluttered closed. She was affected by my touch. "Time will tell," she muttered, releasing a slow breath.

I felt her breath on my wrist, noticing her chest beginning to rise at a faster pace. My body slowly moved closer, pulled in by her natural beauty. She hardly had any makeup on, yet her lashes were thick and long as they brushed the tops of her cheeks. My thumb grazed higher, curious to feel the soft flutters when she slowly blinked.

Butterfly kisses. My eyes closed in memory of my mother. She had the longest eyelashes, and I remembered them tickling my cheeks whenever she held me close as a child. The softest touch gave me an incredible amount of comfort.

"Vance?" she whispered.

My name sounded perfect coming from her sweet mouth. Opening my eyes, I was captured by her gaze. She was staring at my parted lips with half-lidded eyes. Saying my name was an invitation, and I was dangerously close to tasting her. She licked her lips in anticipation, willing me to come closer for a sample.

Leaning in, my nose brushed hers, my hand now cradling her warm face. A cool breeze fanned her hair in the opposite direction. It should have been a sign, Mother Nature pulling her from my damaged soul. Telling me I was no good for her, that I'd destroy her life and drown her with my own if she gave into the temptation.

I ignored it though, basking in how unbelievably alive I felt. My hand stroked her jaw, causing her to release another raspy breath. She melted, tilting her head at the perfect angle. A fraction, that was all I needed to move to mold my lips against hers.

"Vancy!" A belligerent voice shouted from behind us. Lauren jerked upright, coiling away from me with a shaky breath. Holding in a groan, I turned my head, knowing who the asshole was that interrupted us.

Tucker swayed down the steps toward us with a shit eating grin on his face. Colt and Marcy were wrapped in each other's arms behind him. "Let's make a fire!" he shouted.

Clumsily, he forcefully squished himself between Lauren and me, completely oblivious that we were having a moment. "I've been waiting in the bar for you. Did you forget about me?"

Lauren had a timid smile, and I tried to hide my grin. She really wasn't into him. "Sorry, lost track of time. The ocean does that to me."

My blood raced to my heart. Me too, beautiful.

Marcy and Colt were in front of us now. Unraveling her arms from him, she yanked on Lauren's arm, pulling her to her feet.

My eyes were glued to her, my pants stirring as I noticed her shorts were bunched, and the curve of her ass was peeking out for the slightest moment before she adjusted her clothes.

Tucker saw it too, and I caught his hand as it started to lift. Like a viper catching its prey, I snagged his wrist, shooting him a glare when his head swayed in my direction.

"What the fuck, Vance?" he growled, attempting to yank away from my grasp.

Quickly standing, I pulled Tucker with me. In a low voice so no one could hear, I muttered, "Keep your hands to yourself, you drunk idiot. She'll get you for sexual harassment. I won't help you out of that one."

Tucker glowered at me, nudging his body away from me. I let him go, following him closely as he sauntered after Lauren. Her arm was tangled with a stumbling, giggling Marcy. They must have bought a few rounds of shots to get that tipsy in the short amount of time.

Colt followed behind the girls, holding his arm out to stop Tucker from coming too close to Lauren. He knew how grabby Tucker could get, and by our exchange of glances, Colt understood Lauren was off-limits.

At least she was to them. Her personality was perfect to become a Dove, but could I live with myself if I threw her to that treacherous lifestyle, even if it would be for a miniscule amount of time to catch the monster?

Then there was the spark we shared. I was still on the fence whether or not I should invest my time in her. I'd never had a true friend. The small amount of time with her just now opened my eyes to the idea of not being a loner the rest of my life.

"Do I need to call you a cab?" I asked Tucker.

"No," he snorted, straightening his shoulders.

"Then sober the fuck up and get your shit together."

Tucker shot daggers out of his eyes at me, but quieted down. We walked in step with each other as we followed the girls and Colt.

"How far away is the firepit, Colt?" Marcy flirted. She clung to Lauren as if she couldn't stand on her own. Maybe Colt had slipped something in her drink? Better not have. Even if he did it just to fuck her that could be bad for his future.

"Not far, it's pretty close to the shop."

I stopped in my tracks. "Find a different pit." My voice was stern, causing Colt and Tucker to stop and look back at me.

"There's one by YaYa's on the beach," Marcy said, turning in the other direction.

Both girls passed by Colt and me as we stared at each other. We were pretty good about being on the same page, but he seemed confused.

"Vultures meet on Thursday nights," I said under my breath so the girls wouldn't hear.

Colt and Tucker both frowned. "The what?"

I sighed, knowing I'd already said too much. "We can't bring girls anywhere near there tonight. Got it?"

They both nodded then turned to follow behind Marcy and Lauren.

Colt's eyes fixated on Marcy, and she knew he was looking. She'd glance back at him and wink, adding an extra sway to her hips. Lauren would scowl at her every now and then when she'd stumble. Her annoyance with her drunken friend put a half smile on my face. I knew what it was like to babysit. Noticing Tucker miss his steps more often, I knew I'd be in the same boat soon.

"I need a lighter," Marcy said as we reached the fire pit.

Tucker pulled one out of his pocket, lighting it and waving it in the air. I snatched it before he lit us all on fire.

"There's wood across the street by YaYa's carport." Her eyes became sultry as they found Colt. "Will you help me?"

Colt instantly veered toward her. I rubbed my face, knowing they'd take their sweet time.

Lauren took a seat in the sand close to the fire pit. She curled her body as close together as she could, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Tight, wound up, anxious, closed off... she'd be perfect.

"You cold, beautiful?" Tucker slurred, stumbling toward Lauren. Her eyes widened more and more with each step he took.

Just as I was about to grab his arm, he tripped over his feet, flopping down face first in the sand. Lauren gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Are you okay?"

He only responded with a groan.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned down, tapping him on the shoulder. "You alright, big guy?"

He muttered something as I rolled him to his side, then his jaw slacked, and a soft snore escaped his lips. I shook my head in disapproval.

"Is he going to be okay?" Lauren's sweet voice graced my ears, and when I turned to the soft sound, she was crouched down beside me.

I was taken back by her proximity. Her scent surrounded me, and I had to close my eyes to gather my senses. Clearing my throat, I said, "Yeah, this isn't the first time."

Her wariness turned into a slight grin. She was trying not to laugh to be considerate, but she slipped when I smiled at her.

"He just, fell over," she giggled.

I laughed with her as I stood. "He'll be fine."

Lauren stood alongside me, putting her hands in her back pockets. She bit her lip, her eyes wandering to the shoreline.

"They might be a bit," I said, breaking the silence between us.

Her lip quirked as her eyes found her feet. "You might be right."

"Want to walk along the water?" I blurted without thinking.

Her brows pinched together as she looked at Tucker, passed out in the sand. "Should we leave him?"

"We won't go far," I promised.

After a moment of contemplating, she whispered, "Okay."

I followed her lead. She took out her phone so the glow from her screen would face the sand. "Sorry if the light of my phone bothers you. I stepped on a hermit crab once. I felt awful."

I smirked and pulled my phone out to help guide us as well. "Did it hurt you?"

"Only emotionally," she said seriously.

I was puzzled. "Why? Didn't it cut your foot?"

"Yeah, but I survived. The hermit crab didn't."

Holding in my laughter, I asked, "So you're a crab killer?"

She smacked my shoulder, and I couldn't hold my chuckle in any longer.

"I felt terrible during my whole vacation!" she exclaimed, holding in her own laughter.

"How old were you?"

"Maybe twelve. Marcy rolled her eyes at me, but Colby was sympathetic."

My brows furrowed. "Who's Colby?"

Her steps slowed down as her face tightened under the moonlight. "Marcy's cousin." She seemed shut off now, like something was bothering her. I didn't want to pry. Whenever she became sad, my brain pushed me to bring her to Marcus, make her the Dove that would help feed my revenge.

"Well I'll be sure to save any hermit crabs if you decide to get physical again."

She shook her head, but I could tell she was smiling.

"There's a surplus of them anyway. Colt thinks we should sell them at the shop."

She began moving at her normal pace again. "You mean with all the crazy painted shells and cages?"

"Yeah, but my surf shop isn't a tourist spot. It's for actual surfers. We don't sell souvenirs."

"Do you not like being around the vacationers?" she inquired.

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't really like being around people in general. "The ocean is my life, it's not a vacation for me."

"Tourists must annoy you," she said quietly.

"Only ones who don't respect the ocean," I answered truthfully. She glanced at me, and I couldn't help but smile.

"I love the ocean."

"Well, we have that in common. What else do you love?"

"Sand?"

I smirked. "Figured that. It comes with the ocean. Anyone else?" My tongue caught in my throat. That wasn't what I meant to ask.

Her lip quirked upward slightly. Cautiously, she tilted her head to meet my eyes. "Love? No."

An unusual flutter simmered in my stomach, and I couldn't contain the grin that spread across my face.

"Were you trying to figure out if I had a boyfriend?" We stopped at the water's edge, our bodies instinctively turning to each other. She gazed up at me, her hooded eyes focused on my lips.

She sucked me into her again, but I needed to be stronger this time. If I weren't going to use her to help take down my father, then I shouldn't get involved with her at all. And I sure as hell shouldn't touch her as if I had good intentions. I'd committed myself to a single life style. I couldn't have any weaknesses, and becoming attached to Lauren would be a thorn in my side, and something my enemies would use against me.

But she was here, pulling on all my strings, causing a battle between my heart and my brain. My conscience urged me to take her, but my heart pulsed for me to keep my distance. Keeping my distance would be best for her, but damn it, those lips were like a magnet, inviting me to forgo all I had worked toward in the past six months. My hand moved to touch her cheek, itching to feel its softness again. She took a quick breath, leaning into my hand. She wanted our skin to touch just as badly.

Why would my touch affect her? My hands were destructive, destroying lives one guilty finger at a time.

Her eyes closed in anticipation, while I gazed at her beautiful features. One taste wouldn't control me? I couldn't possibly ruin her with indulging myself in a simple kiss, could I?

My thumb caressed her jaw. I could do this, I could kiss her and let her go. It would be simple. It's not like I hadn't been physical with women, then sent them off and on their way.

Tilting my head, I was going to give in and sample her. My chest rose as I inhaled her scent

Just one quick taste.

Before closing my eyes, I noticed a shadow lurking toward us. My hand slid across her cheek and curled around her neck, my other arm snaking around her waist once the shadow came closer into view.

I gulped as I pulled her into my chest, attempting to look unaffected by the way her hands felt as they wrapped around my waist. She was pressed against me in an intimate way, but my body was as stiff as a board. I held her in place, making it impossible for her to realize someone was about to walk past us.

The shadow was twenty feet away, trudging slowly with his arm around a girl's waist to hold her upright. Her eyes were glassy as she leaned against his shoulder. She looked lifeless in his arms, and the man gave me a nod while I held Lauren.

I knew who he was. I saw him every Tuesday night above my shop. He was just like me, another trainer for the hunters who found women and dumped them to a different way of life, and for most, their biggest nightmares.

My arms wrapped around Lauren tighter. I couldn't do this to her. I needed to find a new Dove.

Chapter Seven

Lauren

I'd never wanted someone to kiss me so badly. The setting was perfect, the ocean waves singing behind us, the sand cool beneath our feet. Vance was big and broad, protectively holding me while his eyes searched my face with passion. His hand was rough yet comforting as it explored my cheek. My lips ached for his to touch mine.

We were so close, but then something spooked him. His desire transformed into uncertainty. The way he held me close was delightful, but the rigidness to his touch was obvious.

Pulling back so he could look at me, he said, "Promise me you'll never come on this beach at night by yourself."

I scowled at him. "I always come out here to watch the sunset. Most nights I stay until the stars come out."

Both calloused hands were cupping my jaw now. His brows pinched together as he stared at me. In a dangerous tone, he warned, "The beach isn't how it used to be. Neither you or Marcy should be out here alone any time of day."

Unfurrowing my eyebrows, a small smile formed on my lips. Bravely, I reached for his chest, placing my hand on the hard muscle of his pec. He inhaled sharply, covering my hand with his and squeezing. "Does that mean you'll watch the sunset with me every night?"

Looking toward the water, he shook his head, removing my hand from his chest. The action burned, causing me to coil away from him. Wrapping my arms around my body, my eyes found my feet. His rejection hurt more than it should have.Running his hand through his hair, he sighed. "Lauren, I'm not... good. Sunsets and walks on the beach aren't me."

"Just like you don't start conversations?" I murmured, finding my way back toward the fire pit. If Marcy weren't there, I'd go back to YaYa's. I never should have gotten caught up with Vance in the first place. I didn't come here to create more problems.

He didn't say anything, only followed me until we were side by side. We were both quiet until we found the pit, a fire silhouetting Marcy on her back with Colt hovering over her. Their tongues were playing tonsil hockey, and the way Colt's hips were grinding into Marcy was a sign they needed more alone time.

Not bothering to interrupt Marcy and Colt's make-out session, I stepped over a passed-out Tucker and headed toward YaYa's house. The footsteps behind me were obvious. I stopped midway, spinning to find Vance hot on me heels. "I can walk myself back."

His hands were in his pockets as his hard eyes met mine. "I just told you being alone at night in this town isn't safe."

"I thought the beach isn't safe at night?" I turned to continue to YaYa's, rolling my eyes.

"Nothing about this town is safe," he muttered.

Once my feet hit the pavement, I turned to him. "YaYa's house is right there. You should go back and take care of Tucker."

Taking my forearm, he led me across the street after a truck drove by. "Tucker's fine. I'll take care of him once you're inside."

Nudging away from his grasp, I glared at him. "I'm not a child, you don't have to grab my arm as though I'm going to run into oncoming traffic."

He met my glare, but didn't say anything.

Just as I was about to climb the steps to YaYa's, Vance reached for my arm, pulling me to him. "I meant what I said."

His touch was less harsh, turning into a caress. I watched him swallow and take a long blink. "If you want to watch the sunset, I can send Colt to take you."

Confusion filled me. He wanted Colt to watch the sunset with me? Was this his odd way of saying he was never going to see me again? That he regretted ever sitting by me on the beach and infiltrating my brain? Talking about how fucked up my life was to a gorgeous stranger wasn't exactly something I normally did.

Narrowing my eyes, I challenged, "Why not send Tucker?"

His green eyes hardened. "Tucker isn't an option."

"You can't say that." I snorted. "You're not the boss of me. If I want to go out on the beach with Tucker, I can. If I want to go out on the beach by myself, I will!"

He stepped into my bubble, his lips dangerously close to mine. I melted, and I hated it. His mood was giving me whiplash, and the fact that I turned into putty from being so close to him irritated me.

"There are hundreds of Tuckers on that beach at night. Is that really who you want to come across when you're by yourself?" he whispered. His stare was harsh, but faded once our eyes met. "I think you know as much as I do what a drunk Tucker is capable of doing to a beautiful girl like you."

My eyes closed tightly, remembering all of the drunk men who'd taken advantage of my mother, terrified they'd come crashing into the closet I was told to hide in whenever they'd come over.

Vance's hand found my cheek again. "I don't want to scare you, I'm just trying to make you realize what's out there."

"Niña," YaYa scolded from the top of the stairs. "Come inside. Now."

Backing away from Vance, I refused to look at him, then once I reached the top step, my eyes stayed to the ground, afraid to look at YaYa. I hated disappointing her. "Where's Marcy?" she demanded.

"She's down at the beach. I can go get her if you'd like," Vance offered.

YaYa turned to me, waving a spatula as she spoke. "Lock the door behind me and don't leave. I'll be right back." She meant business as she stomped down the steps. "Now, Niña!"

I did as she asked, upset I'd left Marcy on the beach. Hopefully all her clothes would still be on by the time YaYa made her way down there. Walking to the front of the home, I opened the sliding door to the screened in porch. Creeping out, I eavesdropped on YaYa reaming out Vance.

"Your father is destroying this town. Don't you dare take down my family too!"

"Your granddaughter is safe. Don't worry."

"That means Lauren, too. I can't imagine your intentions are any better than your fathers!"

His father? I didn't even think to ask about his dad. We only talked about how messed up our mothers were.

"I have no intentions of hurting Lauren." His voice almost sounded disgusted, and my stomach sank. He really wasn't interested in me.

"Stay away from them," YaYa warned, beginning to trudge across the street. Vance followed her, and she yelled at him in Spanish.

Taking a deep breath, I meandered back inside and to Marcy's room, crawling to the top bunk. The blankets were soft and comforting, exactly what I needed after Vance's rejection. From the little bit I'd heard from YaYa and him talking, it was probably a good thing he wasn't interested in me. The slightly dangerous vibe that I got from him was true. YaYa had good intuition, and I believed her instincts.

I needed to stay away from Vance Everret.

Reaching for my phone in my back pocket, I scrolled to my text messages.

Colby: The beach doesn't fix everything.

Debating, I finally texted him back.

I'm sorry.

Colby: Lo Lo....

He always called me Lo Lo when he was frustrated. Biting the bullet, I swiped his number on my phone to call him. He answered on the first ring.

"I've been worried about you," he breathed in relief.

I closed my eyes. "I know. I'm sorry I left without telling you. I just... needed to get away."

"Didn't know you needed to get away from me." I could feel the sadness in his voice. I hated making him upset.

"You know that's not why I left."

He sighed. "Sure feels like it. I ask you to move in with me and you disappear."

I ran my hand over my face. "You know I can't leave my Mom."

He snorted. "Lo, you can't take care of her forever. Besides, I live five miles from your house."

"She'll freak out."

"What's new? She's hurting you. You don't deserve to be treated that way anymore. You're nineteen, you should have left over a year ago."

"It's not that simple," I croaked, emotion thick in my throat.

Colby's voice softened. "We don't have to be romantic, Lo. You can stay in the spare room across from me. That way I can be there for you when you have nightmares."

A tear rolled down my cheek. I'd most likely have one tonight. Vance stirred memories inside of me from when I was younger. It always triggered them whenever I'd be reminded of those torturous times.

"I wish I were there now," he murmured. "I could hold you all night."

I reached for my pillow, hugging it close to my chest. "Thank you," was all I could say. I wanted Colby, but at the same time, I didn't want to take advantage of him. Taking care of me shouldn't be on his priority list. Especially when I wasn't willing to be more than a friend to him.

"I'll drive up there now. I could probably catch a flight," he said quickly. I heard a chair scratch against the floor and I knew he was on his feet.

"No, I'll be fine. You can't mess up your job, and I need to figure things out on my own."

He was hesitant, but finally spoke. "All right. If you need me Lauren, you call. I'd do anything for you."

More tears shed. "Thanks, Colby."

"I love you, Lo. Don't ever forget that."

Sniffling, I nodded as though he could see me then hung up the phone.

Why couldn't I just forget my mother and run away with Colby? She didn't deserve for me to take care of her, but at the same time, I felt like I owed her. She protected me from monsters in a messed-up way, and I couldn't get passed that. My eyes had seen the horrible, but thankfully my body had stayed pure, and it was because of my mother that the demons never got to touch me.

I knew Colby wanted more. The moment he got his manager position at the local small engine parts factory, he expressed how he could take care of me. His job was good, compared to what I'd grown up with. How could I run away with someone I wasn't romantically in love with? Granted, we'd never really tried. He'd held me multiple times, we'd kissed heatedly, and it felt nice, but we never explored further than that. He was always a gentleman when I'd crawl into his bed with him.

Anger fueled me. Why couldn't Colby's hands feel like Vance's? How is it a complete stranger's touch could make feelings arise inside of me that I'd fought off for so long? I'd seen the damage physical connection could do. My mother had slept with dozens of men for money and drugs, and that's what I'd always associated sex with.

Vance's touches weren't how I'd expected a man's touch to feel. They were soft, they were gentle, they implied he wasn't using my body as a payment plan.

The skyline through the window caught my attention, the stars shining bright over the water. If only my purpose could be as simple as a star. Light up the galaxy for earth to gaze up at, giving a sense of hope with its twinkle.

The front door opening followed by YaYa's Spanish dissolved my daydream. "Grandma, don't be so uptight," Marcy sighed.

"Marcy, you've known that boy for what, twenty minutes? Control yourself! Niños calientes!" YaYa scolded.

Marcy skipped into her room, a bright smile on her flushed face. "I found my early summer fling."

I grinned. "He did seem pretty into you." I left out that I saw her practically having sex with her clothes on, not that she'd be bothered by me walking in on her. It wouldn't be the first time I'd seen Marcy being dominated by a male.

"I didn't get his number," she sighed while stripping from her tank top and shorts. "YaYa yanked me from under him as fast as lightning."

An emptiness settled inside of me. I didn't get Vance's number either, not that he wanted to see me again. It must have been a sign. No numbers meant no more interactions. Good. YaYa didn't like Vance, therefore neither should I.

"Their surf shop! Colt told me where it was!" Marcy squealed.

I frowned. "Maybe we shouldn't get involved with them."

Marcy waved at me. "You may have lost interest in Vance, but Colt and I are heating up. His dick has to be huge!"

I laughed. "Did you touch it?"

"He was rubbing it against my clit overtop our clothes. Monstrous," she sighed. "We have to go there tomorrow."

My brows pinched together. "Marcy, I don't know."

"Please," she begged, pouting her lips as she hung onto the edge of the bed.

Sighing, I caved. "Fine."

"Yes!" Marcy exclaimed, diving into her bottom bunk.

"What did you and Vance do?"

"Nothing."

Her head tipped out from the bottom bunk, mentally urging me to look down at her.

Rolling my eyes, I hung my head over the bed. "He's not into me like that."

Marcy's lip curled. "Colt said he doesn't date, but he was surprised how close he was sitting next to you when we found you outside of the bar."

A flush crept up my neck.

"He was going to kiss you! Wasn't he? Oh, Lo, I'm so sorry! I knew we should have stayed in the bar longer!"

I shook my head. "No, it wasn't going to happen. We had multiple opportunities. Don't worry about it."

After a beat, her head found her pillow again. "Maybe he just needs time. We'll see how he reacts when we see him tomorrow."

My head found my own pillow. "Marcy, I don't think YaYa would like that."

"YaYa doesn't like any men. She hasn't been with any since my Papa died."

Holding my hands over my head, I muffled, "Fine. Only because you want to see Colt."

Marcy giggled, then got cozy in her bed. Pulling off my own shorts and tossing them to the floor, I buried into my covers, falling asleep thinking about strong, calloused hands stroking my cheeks.

Chapter Eight

Lauren, Age 15

"Lock yourself in the closet," my mother urged, moving items from the kitchen counter and into the already loaded with dishes sink.

I groaned. "Tonight? Mom, I have a final I need to study for."

"Bring a flashlight."

"Mom, it's cramped in there. And I thought you said no light."

Her twitchy hand pulled a lighter from her purse, the flame catching the butt of the cigarette she held in her mouth. She took a long puff of her cigarette then blew it out of her nose. "Lauren, don't make this difficult. Get your earbuds and Discman. There should be a flashlight under the cupboard in the bathroom."

I hadn't even made dinner yet. My stomach was rumbling.

"Now, Lo!" Mom shouted, taking another long drag from her cigarette. Her blonde hair was thin and poking out of her ponytail. She had on a white tank top, no bra, and her black leather skirt. I knew what that meant. Rent wasn't due for another two weeks, but by how she was fidgety, I guessed she needed money for something else.

"You don't have to do this.The counselor at my school-"

Her eyes bugged out more than normal on her thin face. She looked twenty years older than she actually was. "What did I tell you about talking to that counselor? You know she only wants to take you from me! Is that what you want? To leave me here all by myself and put you in some foster care center with some sicko foster dad?"

That had been my mother's childhood. Moving from home to home, seventy percent of the men in the houses had abused her in some way.

My eyes found the stained laminate floor. I'd seen what men like that had done to my mother through the crack in the closet door. I didn't want anyone to touch me like that.

"That's what I thought. Go get the flashlight and get in the closet." she ordered through gritted teeth.

Snatching my books from the card table, I crossed the kitchen covered in faded mint wallpaper and into the living room with shaggy orange carpet where my mother slept. She gave me the tiny bedroom, but we shared a closet between the two spaces. The bathroom was just off the kitchen. We literally lived in a box, and I hated it. Tossing my books into the cramped space, I moved toward the bathroom to grab the flashlight underneath the sink. The pipes were rusty from a slow leak, dripping on an empty bottle of toilet cleaner.

Taking out the flashlight, I tapped it a few times, but the light didn't flicker on. Of course, the batteries were dead. I'd get a fresh pair if we had any in the junk drawer and grab some crackers before I headed to the musty closet.

"Mom, where are batteries-"

I stopped in the kitchen, seeing a man standing in the frame of the front door. My mother was leaning on the wall, her skirt hiked up shorter than normal. A sickness filled my stomach.

Backtracking as quietly as I could, I made my way into the closet. No studying for me tonight. Finding the closet, I ducked inside, lodging the door closed.

Sitting on top of dusty coats and leaning against the vacuum cleaner in the dark closet, I decided to ditch my Discman, using the batteries to fill the flashlight. Studying was more important to me than listening to the same 80's rock CD my mother insisted I learned to love.

Finally getting the batteries in, I wished I made a different decision. The noises coming from the other side of the door made me want to gag more than the musty smell in this closet. The man in the doorway must have liked screaming, because my mother was doing plenty of it.

My chest tightened more than it normally did in this stupid closet. Hearing her heavy breathing turn into moans, then her screaming ouch, made me want to vomit. I knew by the time of the month who she had called. He was the one who paid her the most, because she was willing to let him do anything and everything to her.

Keeping the earbuds buried into my ears, I willed myself to hear the crappy music the Discman had been playing earlier, then attempted to focus on my history book. If I aced this test, I'd qualify for the AP program, and could stay after school for an extra hour every day for an extended class. It was important to me, but the rattling of the floors and brittle walls, followed by grunts and groans from what that man was doing to my mother only made my anxiety rise.

I was hyperventilating now, covering my mouth like Colby told me to do whenever I'd get upset. "Focus on breathing, try to block everything out, Lo," he told me the last time I'd snuck into his house. My chest heaved as I fought the small space for air. What I wouldn't give for an open window and the cool fall air to infiltrate my lungs.

After what felt like forever, the horrendous sounds stopped, and I felt like I could breathe again, until the door creaked open.

It was my mother. She offered me a smile. I studied her, holding back tears from her appearance. Her face was bruised and swollen, fresh blood marks spread across her cheek. Her eyes were hazy, so I knew she didn't feel any pain. The man masked it with the drugs, leaving a pile of money on the kitchen counter along with a baggy of her favorite narcotics.

"Go ahead to bed, Lauren. I'll take us to breakfast in the morning."

I stood up, wiping my eyes and darting to my room. Of course, she wouldn't remember in the morning, because she'd either be high as a kite or drunk when I would be getting ready for school. She rarely was awake and moving that early. I'd have to rest a frozen package of peas on her face once she passed out.

I couldn't focus on my school work anymore. It was 1:00 in the morning, and I was emotionally exhausted. Images of my mother being beaten caused the bile in my stomach to rise, dry heaving my empty stomach into a plastic bag on the floor.

I buried my face into my pillow, attempting to drown out my shrieks of fear. Then I jumped, hearing the door to my window slide open. It stuck halfway, the body on the other side fiddling until it cracked open all the way. I curled into the fetal position, terrified it was the man coming back for seconds.

"Hey, I couldn't sleep," Colby whispered.

I covered the sob from hurling through my mouth.

"Jesus, Lo, are you okay?"

I cried harder. "You can't just come through my window at all hours of the night!"

Colby frowned, his eyes furrowing apologetically. "I'm sorry. I saw the truck in your driveway when I rode by on my bike earlier. I've been waiting for him to leave."

I shook my head. "You shouldn't do that to your Aunt and Uncle."

Colby sat on my bed. "They think I'm staying at a friend's house. Told them my mom normally let me do that."

I hiccuped, wanting to scold him for using his mother's death to play his Aunt and Uncle.

Keeping his distance, Colby knew how to handle me when I was so worked up over my mother's attempts to get extra money.

"Remember when we were at YaYa's and we tried to catch seagulls on the beach?"

I nodded my head, closing my eyes and recalling the ridiculous memory.

"I thought they were going to eat you alive. Those birds could smell French fries from a mile away." He smiled. "I think it would have worked if we could have hidden the smell. Do you remember what happened to me?"

Sniffling, I nodded. "They attacked you. You yelled for Marcy to call 911." I let out a snort, the smallest of smile cracking on my mouth.

Colby tried to contain his grin by biting his bottom lip.

Once our laughter subsided, timidly, he asked, "Can I lay by you?"

"Yes." I scooted so Colby could lay on the side facing my door. I felt safe when he was with me, as if he would block whatever monster could pounce through the door. "Want me to hold you?" he asked softly, his hands itching to pull me to his chest.

I nodded, letting him throw the beat-up Cinderella comforter I'd had since I could remember over us and snuggled into him. His arms wrapped around me as he whispered happy memories against my ear. He would stay with me until the morning, knowing my mother would be too high to notice he was in my bedroom.

"I wish you would tell someone about this," he whispered. "You don't have to stay here."

I nuzzled his chest, well aware the school social worker was on to me and my situation. "She needs me."

"It's supposed to be the other way around, Lo."

A tremor ran through my body. She was taking care of me the best she could. He held me closer, breathing me in, pressing his lips to my forehead. "In a year, I'll have a good job and my own place. I'll take care of you."

My eyes scrunched closed, my hand fisting his shirt. "I can't."

Colby's hand ran up and down my spine, his other stroking my cheek. "You've got a year to think about it." Lifting my chin, he brushed my eyelid with his thumb, forcing them to open.

His blue eyes met mine. "I'll never hurt you. I'm not like the men you've seen your mother with."

"I know," I breathed, afraid he thought I compared him to those demons. "You're kind, sweet, and compassionate. I feel safe when I'm with you."

My eyes followed the large gulp running down his throat. He studied me, contemplation clear on his face by the way his dark eyebrows pinched together.

He opened his mouth, but then closed it.

"What is it?"

Stroking my hair from my forehead, he studied my face, debating what to say. "You deserve to feel safe all of the time."

My lip quirked upward on one side. "Does that mean you'll stay with me tonight?"

"I'll stay with you every night."

I laughed under my breath, my eyelids closing briefly. When I looked at him again, his mouth was in a straight line. "I'm serious, Lauren. I love you."

My eyes moistened. That wasn't a phrase I heard very often. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember the last time my mother told me she loved me.

I stroked his face, noticing the worry lines creasing on the sides of his eyes as he looked at me. I hated that I stressed him out. I wasn't good enough for him, he didn't deserve to waste his time on me when I didn't know what I wanted.

My thumbs grazed his strong jaw as I bit my lip. I needed to give him something, but I didn't know what. He needed to know how much he meant to me.

He swallowed again, touching his nose to mine. I sucked in air, my eyes fluttering closed. I'd never been kissed before, never had an interest in being that close to someone. I'd cuddled with Colby a plethora of times, but he was always a gentleman.

His breathing deepened. Licking his lips, his hand caressed my cheek. I could feel his heart racing underneath my hand, my own heartbeat beginning to quicken. Suddenly, my senses were on high alert. His scent infiltrated my nostrils, the smell of wood and freshly cut grass. I inhaled deeply, basking in the way his hands slowly drifted from a delicate, friendly stroke, to a firmer, more intimate caress. The sound of his breathing rang in my ears, mixing with the beat of my own pulse.

Licking my lips one last time, I bravely tilted my head to meet his mouth. He sighed heavily, his whole body tensing as though he were fighting his own movement. My kiss was shy, a small pluck, unsure if I were doing it right.

When I stopped sucking gently on his bottom lip, he took the lead, kissing me back softly. My body trembled, frightened yet curious from the foreign feelings that were arising.

Colby traced my lips with his tongue. Did he want me to open my mouth? With cautious lips, I did as his tongue requested, allowing him access. Colby grunted between kisses, his hands seeking underneath my shirt. The heat from his hands brought a new sense of comfort. I kissed him the best I knew how, trying to not be self-conscious and worry if I were doing it wrong.

His hand grazed up my spine, reaching the strap to my bra and unclasping it. My hands froze in his hair, my mouth stilling against his lips as he reached around my rib cage.

"I'm... I'm... not sure if..." I stuttered, squirming away from his touch.

Colby's hand instantly halted, grazing back to my spine. "That's fine," his breath was shaky as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, mentally punching myself for being such a wuss.

Placing his hands on the outside of my shirt, he shook his head. "Never be sorry for telling me to stop. You're well worth the wait, Lo."

Chapter Nine

Vance

"I was hoping to find your first Dove at the nest this morning, Vancy," Marcus said as he strolled through the doors of the surf shop. I peeked up from the accounting book at the sound of his voice, closing it and sliding it under the register when he approached.

"She wasn't good for the job," I lied, knowing Lauren's personality fit well.

Marcus's smile was like a shark as he set his hands on the glass countertop. He didn't believe me.

"You need to be faster. I'll do a background check on her."

My eyes narrowed at him. "You don't even know who she is."

Marcus scratched his chin. "Did you do a background check on her?"

"I don't need to. She doesn't fit." I moved away from him, disgusted by the smirk on his face. His tanned skin matched mine, his eyes the same color green. I hated my resemblance to my father.

Marcus clicked his tongue. "It's been two weeks since I've given you this task. Are you not up for it?" He sounded sincere, but his eyes were different. If I told him no, he'd kill me, and him killing me meant I wouldn't be able to throw his ass in jail.

Or put a bullet in his head.

"I'll do a background check on her," I snapped, wanting him to get the fuck out of my sight. "I've got another girl I can take in, too. I'll get a hold of her." I added, remembering Abby from the bar I took Tucker and Colt to the day Marcus told me he wanted a Dove.

"Good. Playing surf shop owner isn't your destiny, son. This entire empire is for you. Blood is thicker than the mud the world will drag you through. In the end, family is all we have."

I swallowed hard. I didn't want his empire of drugs and sex, and soon it would be gone along with him.

"I'll let you know what I find," I murmured, busying myself with a pile of kite ropes. "But from talking to her, she doesn't seem as shut off as I thought."

His lip quirked. "Women lie, son. I figured you'd realize that by now."

I wanted to punch him in the face. He was referring to my mother. She'd made me many promises, that he forced her to break.

"We open in twenty minutes. Unless you want the trollers to see you, I suggest you leave," I attempted reining in my anger toward him.

He gave me a snarky smile, then slinked to the door.

A bright, semi-familiar voice greeted him. "Oh! Sorry sir!" She squeaked, moving past my father.

My eyes widened; it was Marcy. Then fear crept through me as Lauren followed. Marcus's eyes roamed over Lauren, and she shriveled under his scrutiny.

No no no.

"Shops not open, sweetheart," he said to her, cocking his head curious at her timid stature.

"Oh. We can wait outside."

"It's fine," my voice boomed as I zipped toward them. The way my father looked at Lauren like a starved lion was agonizing, and I wanted her as far away from him as possible.

"They can come in," I stood between my father and Lauren. "They're helping me out today."

With a snake-like smile, my father instantly knew who Lauren was to me. "Get to work then," he said smoothly and left.

"Is Colt working?" Marcy asked as she fingered through a rack of purple wetsuits.

"No." I locked the door once my father left. "He doesn't come in for another hour."

Marcy pouted. I looked to my side, finding Lauren cowering away from me. Why was she afraid of me?

"Tagging along?" I asked her as I eyed the two of them.

Her voice was soft. "Yes. Marcy wanted to see Colt. Sorry if my being here bothers you."

"No, doesn't bother me at all." I liked being around her. I just knew it was in her best interest to stay as far away from me as possible. She'd end up as one of Marcus's Doves.

She bit her lip, confusion spreading across her face.

"Well, we can hang out until Colt gets here, or... you can rent us one of those dune buggy things."

I peered out the window, noticing my father lighting a cigarette and standing outside of his car. Was he waiting for Lauren to leave? He no doubt would make a move on her. I knew the look he had in his eyes. My father took what he wanted, and Lauren was on his list.

"No, I could use your help actually."

Marcy raised a brow. "We don't know anything about surfing."

"You don't need to know anything about surfing to organize the booties by sizes."

Marcy crossed her arms. "Water shoes? That sounds boring."

"We can do it," Lauren offered sweetly, walking passed me. Her butt looked awesome in her very short jean shorts. "Where are they?"

I waved for them to follow me. Six big boxes of different booties were sprawled across the floor, all holding different sizes. "Right here. This was going to be Colt's job when he came in."

Marcy jumped, opening the boxes and began sorting them by size. I smiled at her enthusiasm. Colt didn't shut up last night about how bad he wanted her, and if he knew she were here, he'd drag his ass out of bed and get here in no time.

Lauren laughed as she hugged her bare arms. The yellow tank top she wore was tight to her frame, not leaving much to the imagination.

"You want to help me?" I asked, pointing to a pile of bumper stickers. She nodded, neatly stacking them before placing each one in their correct spots on the display rack.

"Listen, about last night," I started to say, unsure what I was going to tell her. "It's not you. I just... I'm not good for women."

She gave me a half grin. "I believe that."

I was taken aback by her statement. "What does that mean?" She was pretty upset with me for shutting her out, at least I thought she was.

Glancing at me, her half grin became a full-blown smirk. I couldn't help but return her smile. She was playing with me, and her shy appearance was fading. I liked that. It made her personality less like a Dove's.

"I feel as though you're judging me."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I call them how I see them."

My curiosity got the best of me. "How exactly do you see me?"

Her grin faded as she stared at me. "I think I should be fighting whatever it is that keeps drawing me to you."

I sucked in air. She knew I was dangerous. Was it that obvious that I manipulated women to help them join Marcus's dark force as prostitutes? And now to be slaves. I was trying to be better, trying to get out of this hell hole, but how could I do that if I were just as much a demon as my father? So what if I helped to catch the monster? I was one myself. I was still the enemy.

Lauren's eyes softened as she watched me. "I'm having trouble fighting it though," she whispered, her eyes moving from me to the bumper stickers.

My heart hammered. She needed to be stronger, because I would eat her alive if I couldn't control the monster inside of me that was aching for her.

"Did Tucker make it home okay?" she asked sincerely.

I was thankful for the change of subject, but talking about Tucker wasn't ideal either. "He's asleep in his bed. Isn't scheduled until noon."

"Good. I was worried you'd leave him out there."

"I'm not that heartless," I laughed. "Even if he deserved it."

"Why would he deserve it?"

Because he was going to drug you and fuck you.

"If you can't handle your liquor, then you deserve to sleep on the beach."

She laughed. "Sleeping on the beach wouldn't be that terrible. As long as you have someone with you," she smirked. I offered a small smile, pondering if she was teasing me for being protective or if she had taken me seriously last night.

Lauren leaned across me, setting a bumper sticker on the rack closest to me. The citrus scent of her shampoo was intoxicating. "Just so you know," she murmured, "I think Marcy would kill Colt if he watched the sunset with me."

Tilting my head toward her scent, I whispered without thinking. "I think I'd kill him, too."

Her eyes widened as she stood frozen in place.

Yes, beautiful, I'm dangerous, and I'm the only man allowed to watch the sunset with you.

"I couldn't fucking sleep. I woke up with this raging boner," Colt muttered as he sauntered through the backroom door.

I grinned, knowing he had no idea the causer of the raging boner was stacking shoes a few feet away.

Colt stopped in his tracks, a slight flush forming on his cheeks as he smiled at Lauren. "Oh, hey, Lauren."

She offered him a slight wave, trying to hide her own blush. I wanted to stroke her cheek. I loved how innocent she really was.

The sound of shoes falling caused all three of us to look toward Marcy. "Damn it! I'm too fucking short for this!" she shouted. Colt rushed around the countertop to help her.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" He smiled broadly, taking the pile of shoes she was trying to hold.

Marcy's anger turned into mush. "I was helping with your job duties. I hope that's not weird."

"Hell no!" Colt grinned, placing the shoes on the highest shelf for her then wrapped her in his arms.

I rolled my eyes. I'd give them a few minutes to catch up, even though it hadn't even been twelve hours since they were caught practically screwing on the beach by YaYa, who happened to call me every obscene name in English and Spanish the entire way to the fire pit. I warned her I should get them first, otherwise she might see more of her granddaughter than she was prepared for. She only shouted at me in Spanish and shoved me to the side. Thankfully, their clothes were still on and only disheveled.

"Oh Marcy," Lauren muttered under her breath.

I gazed at her with a slight grin. "I was thinking the same about Colt."

***

The shop had been steady all morning, and I was thankful Marcy and Lauren decided to stay and help out. Lauren worked like a machine. She finished her task then asked for more to do. Some of the local surfers let their eyes linger too long on Lauren's body, and I tried to convince myself it didn't matter. She wasn't mine after all, and the possibility of her being mine was slim.

Marcy helped some, but she more distracted Colt from working. He would attend to a customer, but then stop mid-sentence whenever Marcy would bend over to grab a shoe from the bottom of the box. I had to intervene a few times.

I was done telling him to stay away from her. He needed to fuck her and get her out of his system, but I knew that would only make him fall harder for her. Marcy had Colt in the palm of her hand, and it hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours of knowing each other.

Tucker mozied in a half hour late, looking like shit. "Sorry, Vance," he muttered, his head thudding when it hit the glass of the counter top. He hadn't even noticed Lauren organizing the new shipment of t-shirts.

"You feeling okay?" she asked him sweetly. Tucker rotated his head so he could see her with one eye. Shocked, he lifted his head and squinted at her.

"Am I dreaming?"

Lauren giggled. "Marcy wanted to see Colt." She pointed in their direction, where they happened to be canoodling each other behind a row of surfboards. "I've been helping Vance all morning."

Tucker's eyes narrowed. "Of course he needed your help."

Lauren patted his shoulder. "Maybe you should go back to bed, you seem a little hungover."

He raised a brow at her. "More than a little. I think the bartender slipped something in my drink."

I smirked. Served him right. Now he had a taste of his own medicine.

"Hey, can I take off? I want to show Marcy how to surf," Colt asked. His arms were wrapped around her as she looked dotingly at him.

"You've only been here for four hours."

Colt frowned, then a smile crept on his face. "Yeah, but so has she, so if you think about it, we've been helping you for eight hours, and she brought Lauren, so that's more like twelve hours."

"I don't mind staying and helping. I know I don't know much about surfing stuff, but I can keep sorting and organizing," Lauren offered.

I smiled at her. She was a hard worker. She was a survivor, they tended to get things done once they put their minds to it. I was a survivor too.

"Yeah, Lauren and I can close the shop down," Tucker winked. I couldn't contain my frown, but a grin slipped once I saw Lauren's eyes widen. She didn't want to be here all day with Tucker. Which was good, because there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.

"Colt, you're scheduled until four. You can teach her then."

Marcy grumbled under her breath and Colt shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, babe, boss's orders."

"You girls don't have to stay." Although I secretly hoped Lauren wouldn't leave.

"I don't mind," Lauren smiled, carrying another box of shirts to the display shelf.

An image of her being here with me every day popped into my mind, her helping open the shop, working the long days with me then crawling into bed together. Her scent would surround me, her hair tickling my chest when she'd curl into me to sleep. The thought of snuggling with a woman had never crossed my mind. It was the most normal reality, an actual life every other human being in this world dreaded recreating every day, but I was infatuated with the idea.

I didn't deserve a normal life, but I wanted one with her.

The revelation sent a chill through me. My knees felt weak, the tremble caused me to rest my hands on the counter. One evening on a beach with a woman shouldn't make the ground shake beneath me.

"You should come and teach Lauren how to kite surf," Marcy implied, her eyes passing between Lauren and me.

I held my breath, reaching for a folder with invoices, appearing to look passive. My heart sent shock waves through my body, anticipating what her reaction would be to spending time with me.

"You don't have to do that," she mumbled, fumbling with a stack of surf wax. "I'm sure you're busy."

Tucker rubbed both of his eyes with his palms. "After I nurse this hangover, I'll teach you."

"She'd be safer in a shark tank," Colt joked, removing himself from Marcy to grab a box from the backroom.

Tucker glared at Colt, then laid his hands on his arms as though they were a pillow on the counter top. "I'll have her standing up in no time."

"Yeah, standing on a reef under the water."

Clearing my throat, I finally interrupted their bickering. "I'll teach you."

Her eyes darted to me, softening along with her facial features. A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, and my heart pounded in my chest. She wanted me to teach her.

"Only if you have time," her voice was low, an unsure invitation.

"Tucker can handle closing the shop." I moved passed her to my office holding a file of invoices. "I can bring you back to YaYa's afterwards."

I sat down in my chair, tossing the folder on my desk and firing up my desktop to check the weather. Every morning I'd take a peek to see what the winds were like. Today was going to be a calm day, not fun for me, but perfect for teaching.

"Don't feel like you have to teach me." Lauren was standing in the doorway, her bottom lip pinched by her teeth with her arms crossed around her body. The way her blonde hair was swiped to one shoulder elongated her neck, causing my lips to imagine what her pulse point would taste like.

I had to shift in my seat, my cock stirring at the idea of kissing her throat. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to."

She glanced over her shoulder toward the counter where Tucker was resting. "You sure it's not because Tucker offered?"

Containing my frown was impossible. "Why would that bother me?"

Her apprehension turned into a grin. Without answering me, she turned, her hips swaying as she sashayed away. Now my shorts were tight and uncomfortable. Why was this girl making me insane with lust?

Taking a deep breath, I worked on finances for an hour. It wasn't easy with the door open, because Lauren decided to re-organize a display of surf leashes. I couldn't peel my eyes from her. She was so lean and athletic, her skin barely kissed by the sun. My fantasies ran wild when she'd toss her hair from shoulder to shoulder, wondering what it would look like against her bare back. I wanted to curl it around my wrist and give it a good tug.

Yeah. My dirty mind wasn't helping my cock settle down.

Then my phone rang, and the name on the screen instantly pulled my thoughts from the gutter.

Standing, I gently closed my office door, giving Lauren a small smile when she turned her head in my direction.

Hitting the answer button, I took a deep breath preparing to talk. The voice on the other end beat me to it. "We're getting closer. Has he picked a selling date?"

"No. We meet on Tuesday night. He'll discuss buying times and client necessities. He's very specific about the women. Vultures won't take just anyone."

Riley breathed into the phone. "Have you found a girl yet?"

My hand gripped the back of my neck. "Sort of. When will the FBI intervene?"

"As soon as we have evidence."

"That's not an answer."

Riley was quiet for a moment, then broke the silence. "We won't make the call until deals are made. Then we can bust all of them."

I paced in my office. If I did use Lauren to help bring down Marcus, I'd have to wait until the last minute to bring her into the Nest. I wouldn't be able to live with myself with what Marcus's filthy henchmen would do to her before putting her up for sale.

"I'm working on it. I'll know more by Tuesday."

"I'll bug you before."

I shook my head. "They take all electronics from us before. You'll blow my cover."

Riley was silent again. "Fine. Call me the moment you're out."

"Always do." I hung up the phone, tossing it on my desk. We were close, and I had the key standing behind my office door.

Chapter Ten

Lauren

"Let me tell Vance we're ready to head out." Colt finished helping a customer, then cruised toward Vance's office. He hadn't opened the door in three hours. I was beginning to wonder if he was avoiding going to the beach with us. His initial reaction to join us was hesitant.

"I don't think he wants to go," I whispered to Marcy.

She gave me a lopsided grin. "Doubt it."

"He's been checking you out all day," Colt added, kissing Marcy as he passed by us.

Like he would have noticed. He and Marcy had been too busy playing grab ass.

"I bet he's trying to get work done so he doesn't feel guilty for leaving. This is his business after all."

"It's his dad's," Tucker interrupted. "Vance doesn't own this place."

Tucker obviously didn't like Vance as much as Colt did.

Colt knocked on the door, waiting for Vance to acknowledge him. After a beat, he opened it. He looked stressed, his eyes heavy and mouth in a straight line.

"We're going to head out. I'm going to grab some stuff for Marcy. Want me to pack the beginner kite for Lauren?"

Vance searched Colt's face for a moment, then his eyes found me. He was staring, contemplating what to say. I hated being an obligation.

"No, I'll get her stuff. Take what you need for Marcy. We'll meet you."

"Sounds good." Colt turned to Marcy. "Let's get you some gear, baby."

She giggled and took his hand, following him into the back room. They left almost instantly after grabbing supplies.

Vance stood in his office, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You don't have to show me today. I know you have a lot of work to do."

His hands dropped to his sides. "The weather is perfect for learning. Just give me five minutes. Why don't you pick a pair of booties and a rash guard, not sure if you'll make it into the water today, but we might as well be prepared."

"Rash guard?"

Vance furrowed his brows, then straightened them in realization. "I forget you're not a surfer." He pointed to a rack on the other side of the store. "The women's sizes are over there. I'd start with a long sleeve one."

Blushed in embarrassment, I turned to look at the rack.

"I'll help," Tucker offered, rising from his chair. Vance laid a hand on his shoulder, forcing him down and then throwing a small box on the counter. "You, my friend, can price tag."

Tucker glared at Vance, and I held in my snicker. Vance really didn't like Tucker showing me attention. It was a first. No man had ever shown dominance toward me in that way. It was kind of hot.

Skimming through the shirts, I picked out a hot pink one with white sleeves. The fabric was smooth and elastic. It wouldn't be forgiving and would stick tight to my body. Guess that was the point.

Vance joined me, wearing board shorts and a t-shirt. "Grab a suit too. The beach we're going to is in the opposite direction as YaYa's."

"I can't do that," I said timidly, glancing at the price tags.

Vance noticed, ripping the tag off the shirt I'd been eyeing. "Don't worry about the price."

"Yeah, they're all marked up ridiculously anyway," Tucker huffed from across the shop.

Vance shot him a glare, then gave me a grin.

Giving in, I grabbed a matching hot pink bikini. I normally wore tankinis, but nothing like that was in the store. Didn't matter, the rash guard would cover most of my skin anyway.

"You can change in my office," Vance offered. "I'll pack up the kites and boards."

I nodded, finding his office and closing the door gently.

His space was tidy, not how I'd expect a man's office to look. Papers were stacked neatly and organized. I glanced at them, remembering YaYa's remarks. Nothing about his office looked suspicious.

Stripping from my clothes, I put on the tight fabric. I was right, no room to breathe. I'd never been more thankful for my naturally slender frame. Slipping my shorts on over the bottoms, I noticed a photo taped to the lower left side of his computer screen. It was of a young boy and a woman, sitting in the sand, the sunset in the background.

My heart filled with warmth. It must have been Vance and his mother. I skimmed the back of his desk, curious if he had any other photos, but no such luck. No sign of his father. YaYa's comments were biting at my conscious now.

Grabbing my tank top from the floor and slipping my sandals back on, I left Vance's office, only to be greeted by a pouting Tucker.

"Something wrong?"

Tucker stared at his feet. "I was hoping to show you how to kite surf."

A small smile played on my lips. "Tucker, you're really nice and all, but this," I pointed between him and me, "won't ever be something more than a friendship."

His eyes darted to mine, a frown forming on his lips. "You haven't even given me a chance."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Sometimes a girl just knows."

His lip went lopsided. "Oh, but you'll give Vance a shot?"

"This is how Vance is paying me for working at his shop all day. I'm not looking for love right now, Tucker."

Tucker muttered under his breath. "Neither was I."

My brows pinched together as he went back to the counter. Now I was really glad I never gave him a chance.

"Ready?" Vance was standing in the doorway behind the register.

I nodded, following behind him through the backroom filled with boxes and other merchandise ready to be stocked and priced.

"If you need more help organizing, I wouldn't mind coming tomorrow." Vance glanced over his shoulder as we took the steps out the back entrance. "Why would you want to work on your vacation?"

"I could use some extra cash." And so could my mother. Sending her money would keep her from pestering me and away from the dangerous jobs she'd fulfill to get extra money on her own.

We reached a black truck. "We could work something out." He stood on the passenger side holding his hand out for me to take.

I eyed it for a moment, then cautiously took it. His hand wrapped around my fingers, his thumb brushing across my palm. Taking a sharp breath, I stood there, not sure why he took my hand, but enjoyed the contact. He didn't say anything, only stared at me.

"Did you want to drive or...?" Vance slowly asked, his eyes moving back and forth from me to the truck.

Red crept on my face. He was taking my hand to help me into the truck, not to hold it.

You're a moron, Lauren.

"Right, sorry." I hopped inside, my hand shaking with embarrassment as I attempted to click my seatbelt.

Vance jumped in the driver side, cool as a cucumber. He slid on a pair of Ray-bans then set his hand on my headrest as he backed out of the parking lot.

I shouldn't have been affected by his fingers brushing my shoulder. I'd craved his touch all day. Whenever he'd pass by, I secretly wished he'd run his hand along my back, shoulder, hip... For the first time, I wanted what Marcy had. A man not afraid to show affection.

I wasn't afraid of Vance like I was of other men. There was a gentle side to him, and I couldn't wait to see more of it.

Removing his hand from my seat, he brushed my skin again, then placed his elbow on his armrest. He flexed his hand, causing the veins in his forearm to pop. Even the way he sat relaxed in his seat, his strong thighs nearly touching the dashboard. I sucked in a breath of air.

Was everything on this man attractive?

Needing to focus on something besides what Vance was capable of doing to my body just by sitting next to me, I tried to find something to talk about. "So... how hard is it?"

He scratched his jaw. "Kite surfing? You want me to be honest?"

"That easy, huh?"

He grinned. "Depends on the wind. You might hate it during training."

"Why would I hate it?"

Vance tilted his head, scanning my body. "The wind is strong. You have to be able to keep up with it."

"Are you implying I'm not strong?"

Bringing his head back to focus on the road, he smirked. "No, the wind is just stronger."

***

"I'm surprised Marcy and Colt aren't here yet." I held my hand to my forehead, searching the fairly empty beach. There was only one couple off in the distance strolling along the shore. Other than them and the fishing boat a half a mile out, we were the only ones around.

Vance handed me two bags from the back of his truck then carried two boards. "Are you really surprised?"

I blushed, knowing what he was insinuating. "They might have made a stop or two," I said quietly, following him along the beach. "Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if they don't show at all."

Vance chuckled. "You might be right."

Once we were close to the shore, the wind picked up more than where we had parked. I was beginning to wonder if it were too strong by noticing how the waves had grown in size and how my hair was whipping across my face.

Vance set down the boards and took the bags with the kites from me. "You're going to practice with a small kite on the beach first."

I waited patiently while he pulled a red and black kite from the bag. After he placed the kite on the ground, he gave me another direction. "Throw some sand on the edges so she doesn't fly away."

I did as he instructed, one eye on my task while the other watched him untangle lines of rope that were connected to the kite. After I was done, I approached him attaching the lines to a hook. He held them in one hand, then reached for a strap on the ground. "Here, wrap this around your waist. Make the eye loop in front."

"Like this?" I asked, latching the hooks tightly around my stomach. He nodded, pulling on the loop. I was caught off guard, my breath hitching as I took a step forward.

He smirked at me. "Stronger than the wind, remember?"

My gaze found my feet.

After latching the strings to my waist, Vance's hand grabbed my chin, lifting my face to meet his. "Teacher's up here," he gently re-directed my attention. "You can do this."

I offered him a small smile, and he returned one. Dropping his hand from my chin, he circled so he was behind me. "The first thing you need to do, is think of your kite being a clock. When it's straight in front of you, the kite should be hovering at twelve. Tilt it to the left, you're at eleven. Get it?"

"Yes," I whispered, well aware of his proximity.

"I'm going to get the kite in the air. I want you to keep it at twelve."

He moved from behind me, walking the twenty feet to the kite, lifting it for the wind to catch. As soon as the wind got a hold of it, the kite shot up in the air, jolting my entire body forward. I squealed, surprised by the force, taking a few steps forward. My hands reached for the string, looking for stability. Vance jogged toward me, a smirk on his face.

"You didn't fall over. Good job."

My brows furrowed as I strengthened my stance, trying to control the kite that clearly had a mind of its own.

"Grab the bar," Vance instructed, helping to hold it in place. Duh.

"I don't know why I didn't grab that at first," I said through gritted teeth, taking a moment to toss my hair over my shoulder so it was out of my way. I knew I should have brought a hair tie.

Once I had a hold of the bar, Vance circled behind me again. "Let's try something. Sit down."

Holding onto the bar with all my might, I began to sit, only to pause when I felt Vance's hands on my hips. He guided me down, his own body straddling behind me. His legs brushed the outsides of mine as I continued to find the sand. We were close, his pelvis touching the small of my back. I held my breath as his arms came around me to grab hold of the bar. "I'm only going to help you get the hang of it, now that you've battled with the wind."

I gulped, my eyes focusing on the bulge of his biceps aligned next to my scrawny ones.

The kite dipped, and the muscles on Vance's arms tightened. "Don't make me do all of the work," he teased. His breath tickled my ear, sending shockwaves throughout my body. He was so close, I could feel his strong chest pressed against my back.

"Okay, I'm going to move the kite from twelve to one, then I want you to try on your own." His arms rotated slightly, controlling the kite with ease.

"You're turn," he murmured against my ear. "I'll keep one hand on the bar, but you steer." Taking a deep breath, I slowly moved my arms as he did, dipping it lower than I intended to.

His free arm snaked around my waist, his palm flattening against my stomach. "Use your core, not just your arms."

I couldn't breathe. My chest rose rapidly from his firm touch. I straightened my back, becoming vertical against him. His hand stayed put on my stomach, his thumb slowly beginning to caress the fabric of my shirt. The rise and fall of his breathing molded with my back.

A delicious tingle traveled down my spine from his warm breath tickling the back of my neck. "It's only a slight movement. Use your wrists."

Trying to concentrate on the kite verses Vance's scent beginning to waft through my senses, I rotated my wrist, then brought it back to the center.

"Good," he whispered. "Keep doing it until you're comfortable. Then we are going to move it from twelve to two."

I took a deep breath, continuing the movements. Vance's hands stayed put on my stomach, flexing every now and then. His thumb found my navel over top the suit, making gentle circles.

' _Lower!_ ' my head screamed against my conscience.

"Now you're getting the hang of it. Want me to let go?"

No. I want both of your hands on me. "Sure."

Cautiously, he removed both hands, leaning back on them in the sand. I let out a huge breath in the process. I waited for him to move away from me, but his legs were still caging mine.

A gust of wind deterred my dirty thoughts, regaining my focus on what my original intentions of the trip to the beach were.

Twelve to one, one to two, two to one, one to twelve.

I smiled. "This isn't too bad!"

Vance chuckled behind me. "Try the other side now."

Twelve to eleven, eleven to ten, ten to eleven.

I giggled in triumph. Maybe I would be able to kite surf, scrawny arms and all. I tilted my head back to glance at Vance. His Ray-bans were masking his emotions, but a ghost of a smile played on his lips. "I'm stronger than you thought."

His grin widened. "I was hoping that were the case."

As long as it took for me to gain confidence, Mother Nature decided to test me, a massive gust claimed the kite, forcing my body to lurch forward. Vance squeezed my waist with both arms assuming I'd fly away, but I gained control, my biceps tightening as I reeled the kite back to twelve.

"Nice grab," Vance murmured, his lips dangerously close to my ear.

My throat grew dry from the sweep of his breath. My lips parted to say thank you, but the words wouldn't come out. Goose bumps formed on my legs and arms from his grip around my waist.

Leaning into him, I wanted the heat of his breath to brush down to my shoulder and back to my ear. As if he were reading my mind, he ran his nose along my neck, taking a deep breath to scent me.

I was practically panting, hopeful he'd keep his arms snuggly wrapped around me, pulling me into him like he had the evening before. Only this time, I begged with all my might that he'd give in, taking the next step that we danced around before.

Slowly craning my neck, his cheek skimmed across mine, breathing me in again. I'd only need to lift my head an inch to meet his mouth.

Licking my lips to moisten them, I made the move, tilting my head just enough. As I opened my mouth to speak, he pressed his lips to mine.

I turned into butter, the tight grip I had on the bar loosening. His mouth claimed me with a passion I'd never experienced or imagined, his teeth nipping gently on my lower lip. I released a subtle moan, my stomach doing somersaults underneath his hands.

I wanted more, opening my mouth as an invitation for his tongue to explore with mine. He didn't reject me, but groaned, taking one hand and cupping my jaw, pulling my face deeper into his kiss. The tingles that tickled my skin turned into a throb, my hips beginning to lift from the sand, wanting to turn and straddle him.

Reading my mind again, Vance released the kite, a swoosh followed by a thud notifying us of its departure and nosedive into the sand.

Moving his hand from my jaw to my hips, he swiftly lifted and turned me, taking both my legs and wrapping them around his waist in one quick movement. I inhaled sharply by his smooth transition.

One hand grabbed the nape of my neck, the other holding me to his chest. He was like a lava rock against my heated skin, intensifying the small flame he lit from his kiss into a rapid and out of control fire.

I was surrounded by his scent, my arms wrapping around his neck. He tasted more delicious than I imagined, my mouth aching to explore every inch of him. All my rationality was thrown into the wind, spiraling out of control like the kite just had. My hips moved, rubbing against his lower abdomen. A low growl emerged from his chest by my movements. My skin trembled as his hand slid under the neoprene shirt, pressing down on my lower back, urging me on top of his...

I gasped, my head falling backward. He lifted his hips into me, the friction between my shorts and his swimsuit sending a jolt throughout my entire body, his lips capturing my throat in the process. Grinding my hips with his strong, calloused hands, he guided me and I began to lose myself, forgetting about the beach where anyone could come across us, forgetting about the danger YaYa warned about Vance and his family. I even forgot about my home from hell I'd escaped from. It was only me and him, on this beach, ready to ditch my clothes and give him every single piece of me I had to offer.

His hands reached for the hem of the rash guard, ready to whip it from my head, and I was more than willing to let him, but his lips paused, his breath hot against the crook of my neck. Both his arms wrapped around my waist, holding my hips still, pressed into his erection. He nuzzled my neck, squeezing me as close to him as possible.

"We need to stop," he murmured through a raspy breath against my shivering skin.

My head dipped low, my nose touching his shoulder. Long, deep breaths came from my chest as I regained my sanity. Did I really just lose all control on a beach with a man I'd only known for a day?

Yep, I did.

Taking another breath, I began to stand from his lap. Vance stopped me though, pulling my forehead to his. "I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have lost control like that."

My brows pinched together as I realized I was nothing but a massive mistake to him.

A throaty breath came from his lips, teasing my senses. I hated how the deep release of breath turned me on in such a desirable way.

"Guess we're done for the day," I said, as emotionless as I could. Vance closed his eyes, dropping his hands from my back. I hated how my body longed for him to keep touching me. I should be irate with him for his denial.

He cleared his throat. "I think you've got the hang of it."

I nodded, standing awkwardly from his lap, shuffling my legs from side to side to get the blood moving throughout my entire body, and not just in certain spots, that happened to still be begging for Vance to touch.

Vance stood with me, pausing in front of me for a moment as though he were going to say something, then he proceeded past me, careful not to touch me in the process. I didn't need to turn around to know he was going after the kite we so irresponsibly dropped in the heat of the moment. Running my hands along my face, I did the best thing I knew how to do.

I ran, and didn't look back.

Tears threatened with each heavy stride in the sand.

What was I doing? Making my life more complicated by throwing my emotions into a complete stranger? I was supposed to be clearing my head, figuring out how to change my current life for the better. Vance blurred my vision of the future.

And somehow, my heart hurt more after being with him than before I met him.

I was fucked up beyond repair.

Finally, I reached the long grass that separated the beach from the road. The walk back would suck, but I didn't want to be anywhere near Vance, and from the looks of it, he was perfectly okay with that. He didn't come running after me.

Which for some god awful reason made my heart ache even more.

I sat on the edge of the grass, burying my head in my hands, curling my body as tightly into a ball as I could. It was the way I coped, making myself as small as possible as if I would disappear. Just as I found my comfort zone, a shadow cast over the light that was warming my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head, assuming to find Vance, but I was greeted with someone else.

"Odd place for a pretty girl to be sitting."

Chapter Eleven

Vance

I was an idiot who only thought with his cock.

What's wrong with me? How could I give in so easily? If I wanted Lauren to have any future, I needed to stay as far away from her as possible. I couldn't be stroking her soft skin, inhaling her as though I needed her scent to survive. I sure as hell couldn't be kissing her.

I closed my eyes, rubbing the back of my neck after packing away the kite. I couldn't look at her. She was so beautiful, so mysterious and exquisite in her own damaged way. My heart pounded faster from the memory of her lips nipping at mine, her naive tongue darting out with no reservation.

Then she straddled me.

Okay, so I might have spun her around, but she didn't stop me. Her hips moved steadily, urging my hard-on to full mast. The frenzy took over, my hands eager to rip her clothes off and finish what we had started.

But then my conscience kicked in, scolding me for giving in to the estranged feeling she brought out of me. My brain told me to fuck her, drug her, then drag her to the Cage to be prepped, then meet her demise for the smallest of time until I could regain my revenge on Marcus.

Tossing the bag with the practice kite over my shoulder and grabbing the boards and other bag, I knew I needed to get it together and take her home. I needed to turn around and face her, and somehow keep my hands off her. It wasn't going to be easy, especially now that I'd had a taste. I could drown in her, bask in the incredible feelings she erupted inside of me within those few minutes of kissing.

Finally gaining control, I turned to talk to her, but she was running half way down the beach and back to the truck.

Fuck.

The smart thing to do would be to let her go, avoid her until she and Marcy went back home.

My heart fought with me. The sun is setting, you asshole. You know what type of people hang out on the beach and streets at this time of night.

With a pounding heart, I thought of all the hunters and trollers that grazed the streets. They'd snatch her up in an instant. My feet hit the sand, beginning to move faster after her. She disappeared into the tall grasses while I contemplated what to do, but she couldn't have gone far.

Reaching my truck, my heart fell out of my chest, and I stopped breathing.

There was Marcus, standing over her and holding a cigarette. She was looking up at him, wide eyed, most likely terrified from his tall and intimidating stature. He was well put together, enough to fool the authorities and any other onlookers that he was a good guy.

My heart raced with each step I took to get to her. I didn't want Marcus to get the wrong idea, and running and punching him in the face would certainly do that. He couldn't know I had a soft spot for her. He needed to think I was actually debating using her for his trafficking program.

I nearly lost my shit when he reached his hand out for her to take. She only looked at it skeptically, her body still tightly wound into a ball. I couldn't help myself from taking her hand before he had the chance to shake it. She popped up next to me from my force, taking a sharp breath in the process. She was surprised to see me, I could tell by the way her brows shot up and her breath hitched from our touch.

"Vancy, what are you doing here?" Marcus greeted, his snake of a smile curling across his lips.

"He was teaching me how to kite surf," Lauren stammered. Marcus glanced at our hands that were still interlocked. I quickly let go. She stepped back from me when our fingers released.

Shit. The interaction stung her.

"I wasn't aware you still offered that at the shop. I assume that's where you met?" he asked curiously, already knowing the answer. He had pinned who Lauren was the moment he saw her this morning.

"No. We met last night. It was coincidence she came into the shop this morning." My voice was flat. Even though my mouth was in a straight line, Marcus knew I was seething.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

Don't tell him.

"Lauren. Lauren Owens."

I closed my eyes and ground my teeth. She just handed herself over to him on a silver platter.

His shark of a smile flashed her way. "You here with your family on vacation?"

Lauren offered him a small smile, but wouldn't meet his eyes. She wrapped her arms around her body as she spoke. "No. I'm here with a friend."

"Bet that drives your boyfriend wild," he probed.

A small flush crept up her neck. "No boyfriend for me."

Marcus nodded, then placed his sunglass back over his eyes. "It was great meeting you, Lauren. Vance, I'm sure I'll see you around." He offered me a nod, then like clockwork, his black Mercedes pulled to the side of the road, his driver opening the passenger door for him.

"Who was that?" Lauren asked as I stared down his car.

"No one important."

She raised an eyebrow. "He sure looked a lot like you."

My eyes darted away from hers and to the back of the truck. Tossing the bag with the kite and the boards in the back, I muttered. "Yeah, unlucky me."

She followed, grabbing the other bag and attempted to yank it over the back. I took it from her with ease, tossing it with the other one.

"Are you related to him?"

Leaning against the back of the truck, I crossed my arms and stared out at the ocean. "Yeah."

She mimicked me, our proximity dangerously close. "You don't have to tell me," she murmured. "I'm not proud to introduce the little family I have to anyone either."

"Your dad a huge asshole, too?" I asked under my breath.

She fidgeted next to me. "I don't know who he is." I turned my head to look at her. She didn't seem upset by her revelation. "Pretty sure I was an added bonus to a drug deal."

I studied her, a rush of anguish running through me. She really didn't have anyone.

"I didn't know," I whispered.

She shrugged her shoulders. "How would you have known? I don't talk about him because there's nothing to say. I've never had a dad, so I don't really know what I'm missing."

My head dipped. "I think I would have been better off without a dad."

She nudged my shoulder. "There has to be something good about him."

That was the horrible truth, there was absolutely nothing good about that man. "He might look put together, but looks are deceiving."

I gazed at her, her sad blue eyes capturing me. They were hypnotizing against the setting sun. I had to clench my hands into fists so I would refrain from stroking her cheek. What was she doing to me?

She broke our gaze, looking out at the water. "Do you think they know how terrible of parents they are? How messed up they made us?"

"You're not messed up." She was beautiful, had an amazingly kind heart, and was a hard worker. She just didn't see it in herself.

Which is why she's perfect to help you catch that fucker.

The corners of her mouth rose, but her eyes didn't match the soft smile. "Looks can be deceiving," she whispered into the wind, mimicking what I'd said earlier about my father.

"You wouldn't bust your ass to help a grumpy kite surfer at his shop."

Her brows lifted slightly as she glanced at me. "You are a bit moody." My grin caught her attention. "But I think you have good intentions."

"Why is that?" I must have been a great actor for her to think so highly of me.

Turning, she leaned her hip against the truck, biting her lip and pinching her eyebrows together. "You stopped kissing me. An asshole would have taken advantage of me."

My heart pulsed as she stared at me. If she only knew I'd been battling between my heart and my brain to use her for my own sick vengeance.

"I'm not sure what happened out there."

"Did you like it?" she squeaked, shifting her weight from side to side and rubbing her biceps anxiously.

"I more than liked it," My voice betrayed me, cracking slightly. "You just deserve better."

Her eyes found the ground again, that sadness overpowering her. "I think you've got that the other way around."

Shaking my head, I needed to make her understand. "I'm not good for you. Bad things happen to women who show interest in me. You shouldn't hang out with me, Lauren."

"I have nothing to lose," she sighed. "My mother uses me for her drug money. I don't have any other family. I mean, there's Marcy and her family, but, they aren't mine. And..." She paused, her lips pressing together tightly as she squinted her eyes closed. "I'm not ready for Colby."

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. She became uneasy the last time she mentioned his name. "Colby?"

"Marcy's cousin. His mom died when he was ten. He wants..." She glanced out at the ocean, refusing to meet my eyes.

"He wants you." My stomach hardened at the thought of anyone else touching her.

"Yeah," she confessed with a sigh. "But, he's never kissed me like..." Her chest rose as she leaned on her side against the truck again. I was well aware of her increase in breath. She was talking about our kiss, the heat and the insane intensity. She felt it too, there was no denying it.

"Passion can play tricks on your emotions." My lips were dry, so I licked them in search for moistness, wanting the dampness of her tongue to fill my dry mouth.

Those big eyes stared at me, then became hooded by her long lashes as she gazed at my mouth. Fuck, we couldn't do this again. I couldn't keep pulling her into my destructive darkness.

My chin tilted down, fighting every ounce of my reckless heart's desire. "We shouldn't do this," I murmured, keeping my arms crossed.

She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to the side of my mouth, letting them linger. I felt her lashes tickle my cheek as she closed her eyes. Her presence brought so much comfort, filling my cold, empty heart with hope and affection.

I couldn't fight the urge to hold her anymore. I slid my arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my chest. She accepted my invitation to hold her instantly, nuzzling her head into my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my waist.

"You can't hurt me, Vance Everret," she murmured. Turning her head, she placed her ear against my heart. It pounded wildly, wanting to jump out of my chest and claim her.

My other hand wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Resting my cheek against her head, I sighed, giving in to the moment of bliss she provided for me.

Opening my eyes, I found my other solitude. The sunset was meeting the ocean, painting shades of purples and pinks across the vast skyline. No sailboats were in sight, just calm ripples of ocean waves filling the wide and unknown ocean. The wind had disappeared, only the slight breeze filling my nose with the fresh smell of seaweed and sand, mixing with her intoxicating scent of citrus.

Lauren gently rubbed her hand up and down my back, unknowingly soothing away my apprehensions and fears from my past. I could forget about my position with the FBI, Marcus, the death of my mother, and how fucked up my past was when she held me. I felt contentment with her in my arms, like I could blend in with the beauty of the unknown ocean, floating between the ripples and the reflection of the sunset.

My brain told me to let her go, but my heart pounded to be close to hers.

I had to protect her from Marcus, and if that meant jumping full force into being with Lauren and embracing the rush of life she was reviving inside of me, then I was willing to take the risk. I'd find a way around this, I had too.

I couldn't lose this feeling of good seeping into my darkness.

"Vance?"

"Hmm?" I replied, refusing to move my arms from holding her.

"Thanks for watching the sunset with me."

I smiled against her forehead, pressing my lips to her temple. "Get used to it."

Chapter Twelve

Vance

"Hand over your cell phone," Percy, my father's main bodyguard, demanded the moment I hit the top step of the surf shop.

Handing over my phone, I offered Percy a nod. "Nice to see you. Is Marcus going to be on time?"

His voice was deep. "He'll be here." The man was three times my size, gold chains around his neck with matching rings and bracelets.

It was Tuesday night, the big meeting to discuss the next opening of the Cage.

I sent Lauren and Marcy into town with Colt while Tucker roamed the bars in the next town over. He bitched that I sent him without Colt. I made up an excuse that he needed to hunt elsewhere, when really, I needed Colt to keep an eye on Lauren. Colt was thrilled to spend time with Marcy and didn't even ask why Tucker wasn't coming along with him. I stopped trying to divert Colt from seeing Marcy, because it was good for him. He would realize he needed to get out of this mess and go be with her instead of screwing random girls to convince prostituting is the only future they had.

"We gettin' that crawfish for tonight?" Mikey, the main hunter for the west side of town, asked. "I had to rush over here, damn trollers putting their cocks in the wrong pussy were holding me up. Had to wait for them to finish with their whores before I could knock some sense into 'em."

The few others around the table smoking cigars and sipping on liquor hackled at his comment, all of them agreeing that their trollers were sex hungry morons that would do anything to get a girl underneath them.

"Your boys get any worms?" Mikey asked me as he lit his cigar.

"Nah, hard to sort through the compost this time of year," I answered, disgusted with using the rotten nicknames for the women we convinced to join Marcus's operation.

Mikey shot me a grin. "You find any Doves?"

My face remained to appear as stone. "I have a few prospects." Abby was still in the game. I didn't have her contact information, but I'd bet I could get Ms. Tits from the bar she worked at to tell me some type of information about her. I needed to mask my relationship with Lauren and lead them on that I had other girls. If I didn't, I'd be fucked and kicked out of this meeting, losing my chance to get Marcus. It killed me knowing I needed to find another girl and bait her in so I could keep my spot.

Mikey smirked. "It's hard to not keep them for myself. They submit so well."

The rest of the men chuckled, and I only offered a fake grin. These fucks made me sick with what they did to women.

"Good evening, gentlemen," my father announced. The floors creaked when he entered the wooden walled room, his presence silencing us while he rolled up his sleeves. His suit coat was being held by his other bodyguard who followed closely behind him. The black button-up shirt was expensive no doubt, and happened to match the color of his soul.

"I presume Percy has received all of your electronic devices?" We all nodded. "Good. Let's get to it. I've got places to be tonight."

I swallowed, watching him take his seat with authority at the head of the table. The single light casted his shadow across the table, making his presence more intimidating than it already was. "We'll start with you, Mikey. You get me a Dove?"

"Yeah boss, brought her in this mornin'. She took well to the eight ball I fed her." He laughed, then sucked in a big puff of his cigar.

Marcus stared at him with his evil smile, his hard, sea green eyes boring into him. "You do your background check?"

Mikey blew smoke out of his nose. "Didn't need to. She pissed and moaned about how her parents didn't give a shit about her, that she was running away to become some ballet dancer or some shit like that. I figured it was a done deal."

Marcus grinned, his eyes still holding a burning intensity as he leaned slightly back in his chair. The insanity in his eyes kept us all from laughing at Mikey's snide comments. Marcus crossed his leg over one knee, becoming more comfortable.

"Where is she from? She in school?"

Mikey shrugged his shoulders. "Didn't think that mattered."

"She have siblings?"

Mikey puffed another hit of his cigar. "How the fuck should I know?"

Marcus sighed, standing from his seat to pace slowly around the room, fiddling with his watch.

"See, it does matter." He trailed to Mikey, standing behind him. "Let's say the little miss you brought in, who woos about her terrible life, is from the suburbs. Mommy and Daddy are busy with their lives. They have friends, social events, work meetings, a life that requires their attention, taking it away from their darling daughter. She feels neglected, hurt, has low self- esteem, her character traits are exactly what we are looking for," Marcus leaned down to Mikey's eye level, placing his hands on either side of his chair, "Right?"

Mikey's cigar was hanging on the bottom of his lip. "Well, yeah, boss. That's exactly what I thought."

Marcus stared at Mikey, his eyes dilating with each passing second. Finally, he stood tall, continuing to talk. "So, we 'save' darling daughter who appears to hate the world and wants to disappear, but in reality, she's not so alone." Marcus's eyes became darker, his pace quickening around the rectangle table filled with smoke and Hunters.

"It's important to mom and dad that their darling daughter is their exact prodigal, that she follows in their footsteps, goes to ivy league school, meets a rich and handsome man that will take over her father's business. They don't give a shit if he actually loves her and is faithful to her, they just want their image to be upheld. Jimmy?"

Marcus's second in command stepped forward, acknowledging he was being spoken too.

"Can you tell me what might happen if their darling daughter refuses to follow their rules?"

Jimmy pulled on his collar. "They're gonna look for her."

Marcus's sharky smile widened as he threw his hands toward Jimmy. "Yes! They're going to follow her to the ends of the earth, spend as much money as they can, because God forbid their name gets jeopardized because their daughter went rogue against the family tradition."

Marcus found his way back to Mikey, who was looking paler by the second.

Leaning so he was in Mikey's face, he harshly whispered, "Mikey, can you tell me, why this might be a problem?"

His mouth was hanging open, frightened to answer the maniac who was barely inches from him.

This pissed Marcus off, causing him to grab Mikey by the back of his neck and blast his head into the table. Mikey screamed, his nose crunching loudly for all our ears to hear, blood splattering across the wood, nearly hitting my hands in the process.

"You don't have an answer for me?" Marcus asked smoothly, pulling his head back up, just so he could smash it back into the table again.

"Fuck!" Mikey roared, reaching for his broken face. "They'll fucking find her!"

"Ding ding ding!" Marcus yelled, rotating his wrist to simulate ringing a real bell. "Mommy and daddy don't give a shit about their daughter, they only care what society thinks. If she leaves, they're shitty parents. If she's kidnapped, they become idols who will do anything to find the piece of shit little brat they created who's trying to find her way. They want the publicity, but you know what's going to happen to the poor fucks who took her?"

Mikey shook his head, his eyes squinting in pain. Marcus yanked Mikey from his seat, throwing him to one of his bodyguards. "Go get that bitch and send her home to her dad. You don't do it, your ass is going to the Cage for the real fucked up Vultures who like pretty boys with virgin assholes."

Mikey was dragged by the bodyguard down the stairs.

Marcus paced quietly for a moment, then found his spot at the head of the table again. "Now. Who wants to go next?"

My eyes searched the table of young hunters, curious who would have the balls to jump into conversation after Mikey had just gotten his head bashed into the table.

"I've got a few background checks to run," I said evenly, never blinking an eye.

Marcus's lip quirked slightly in approval. "I bet you do. I look forward to seeing your face when you sell your first girl. Who's next?"

My stomach dropped. When I sell her?

Marcus moved around the table, quietly listening, not giving off whether or not he approved of the others takes or finds. Only three quality girls total were caught, and Marcus seemed satisfied.

"I need twenty total," he lit his own cigar. "I've got twelve Vultures wanting Doves."

"When you need them by?" I asked.

Marcus took a long drag then blew the smoke through his nose. "Three weeks. I want to sell next month."

Keeping a somber face, I was somewhat satisfied. Although the idea of Lauren going back to Michigan sucked, I had her best interest at heart. I could get her home before then. She wouldn't even know what was happening, and I could destroy Marcus while she was somewhat safe with her crack-head mother.

My jaw clenched at the thought. Maybe I should find a better place for her to hide.

The south side hunter asked a question. "Where are you holding them until then? The girl I brought in wasn't at the Nest this morning."

Marcus blew out more smoke. "She's safe. Don't worry about her. She'll be there in time for the sale, and if they want her, you'll get your cut."

The hunter nodded with approval.

"This meeting is adjourned. I want you all to have at least three prospects and one catch by next week's meeting. If you want to stay and dabble in some extracurricular activities tonight, please feel free." Marcus stood, flicking his eyes to Jimmy, who then threw down bags of cocaine on the table. The remaining hunters' eyes lit up as they reached for the eight balls.

I stood to leave, but Marcus stopped me. "Vancy, meet me downstairs, will you?"

Taking a deep breath, I nodded, pushing in my chair to follow him, grabbing my phone from Percy on the way.

Marcus stepped outside onto the deck, lighting another cigar. "You want one?" He asked, holding out the case that held an extra stick.

I only shook my head. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the railing, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I did a background check on Lauren Owens."

My stomach churned. I tried to forget he got her full name. Keeping my best poker face, I listened intently.

"Nineteen, from the small town of Harris, Michigan. No college, only works at a run-down arcade. Guess the owner puts up with her poor attendance, since she's been here for two weeks."

I swallowed. "She's good friends with Marcy Contreras."

He watched me. "She's not their blood."

"YaYa Contreras begs to differ."

Marcus smirked. "Don't worry about YaYa, but watch your troller with Marcy, he can't get attached to her and be a part of this operation."

"He doesn't know about the Cage. Neither of them know more than finding prostitutes and delivering narcotics."

"As it should be." Marcus breathed in the salty air, his eyes hooded. "Back to Lauren Owens. She trusts you. I can tell by her body language."

"I don't really know her that well," I lied, putting my hands in my pockets. Little did Marcus know I'd been watching the sunset with her every night I could during the past few weeks. "She's lost interest in me. It's for the best. She doesn't have enough baggage."

Marcus laughed his I-know-you're-full-of-shit, laugh. "She doesn't have a family, money, and she's as timid as they come. I want her."

My eyes darted to his while my insides burned. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"My highest paying Vulture would take her without a test ride. It's your job to get her. I'm giving you two weeks. Then we can prep her for the sale."

Standing tall from the railing, I pulled my hands from my pockets and crossed my arms, staring at him intently. "I've got a better one for you. I'll bring her to the Nest before the weekend is over."

His snake-like smile appeared. "Then get me both."

Sauntering toward me, he sized me up with his eyes, making his presence known. "This is important. This will prove to me that you can handle our empire. Once you bring me the girls, I'll promote you." He smirked, inhaling his cigar. "No more dealing with trollers, you'll be head of the hunters. Whichever division you want. Guns, drugs, or women."

I nodded, the only signal I was willing to give the fucker.

After sending me a grin, he moseyed toward his Mercedes where his body guard started the engine. Once he reached the bottom step of the wooden stairs, he turned to me. "Don't let me down, son." His smile was gone, and his eyes that matched mine held a deadly promise. "If you don't bring in Lauren Owens, I will."

Chapter Thirteen

Vance

His last words replayed in my mind over and over as I stormed down the street. I needed the fresh Gulf air to help my racing heart gain its steady rhythm again.

What did he want with her anyway? There were tons of girls with no self-esteem and no family or friends to fight for them. Abby. I had to find her. I'd make sure she stayed as safe as possible, letting Riley know he needed to jump as soon as he could if we were going to use this girl. Hell, maybe we could even bring her into the sting, then she would know what she was getting into and be prepared.

I couldn't let anything happen to Lauren. She needed to learn to love life, and that there was more to her than what her fucked-up mother lead her to believe. My pace quickened, my heart racing with worry and anxiety.

Then my phone rang, burning in my back pocket. Pulling it out, the number running across the screen was unknown. I answered immediately, thinking the worst. What if Marcus had already gotten to Lauren?

"Hello?" I answered nearly out of breath.

"Fill me in."

I let out a huge breath. It was Riley. I forgot I told him I would call as soon as the meeting was done and I was a safe distance away.

"He's plotting to sell the girls within the next three weeks."

"You get a location?"

My feet crunched on the stones as I trekked across the street and to the beach. "No. I need to bring a girl in before he tells me more."

Riley sighed. "I know you don't want to do it, but we are going to have to sacrifice."

"Isn't there a way we can hire someone? Can't we send in an undercover girl?"

"Won't work. We'll get whoever she is out of there before she gets hurt."

I ground my teeth. "He'll drug her before the sale. Probably test her out. It's not a safe process. Riley... I'm not sure if I can-"

"Suck it up, Everret. You signed a contract. If you bail, your ass will be a felon. You don't exactly have a clean record. Between selling narcotics and paying prostitutes, you can say goodbye to having a semi-normal life. This is your only saving grace. Do you want to avenge your mother or not?" His tone was harsh and stern.

The last part hit a nerve. "I'll get it done," I snapped, wanting to get the fuck off the phone and go find Lauren.

"Good. Don't puss out on me. It'll be the last decision you ever make. You won't even be able to decide when to take a dump sitting in a jail cell with your record. You got that?"

"I got it," I muttered, hanging up the phone before he could say anything else. He didn't call me back right away, so I assumed he was done threatening me.

Riley was right. I didn't have the option to fall off the grid and start a new life. They'd hunt me down, especially if I fucked them over for the shot at stopping Marcus. He'd controlled the drug scene under the radar for decades, and his prostitution numbers were growing and infiltrating the bigger surrounding cities. It would take him no time to become a successful underground human trafficking shop. He had the resources and the man power, but I had the power to put an end to it.

Taking a deep breath, I tossed my sandals to the side and began to jog, needing to clear my head. The beach would help. If only kite surfing were a safe nighttime activity. I'd done it before when the moon was full and the sky was clear, but the stars were hidden by the clouds and the tide was high, so unless I wanted to be drifted into the sea, I'd need to stay on the shore.

In, out, in, out, in, out... my nostrils flared with each deep breath, my steps picking up in speed with each pace in the sand. My skin itched, my t-shirt feeling like it was suffocating me. Marcus made me feel dirty and slimy, like I needed to scrub every inch of my skin twenty times before I felt like a halfway decent human being. It never helped, I'd always feel like a scumbag helping to demolish an evil operation in the most sinister way.

I was sprinting now, choking back the emotion that was clawing up my throat. Ripping off my shirt, I clenched it in my hand, pumping my arms as I powered through the sand. My whole body burned, my sweat doing nothing to cool my hot skin. The thumping of my blood in my ears rang louder and louder, only slightly distracting me from my damaged thoughts.

Find a Dove. Bring her to the Cage. Somehow avoid seeing her preparation for the sale. Hope to God whoever she was wouldn't have devastating trauma for the rest of her life.

Yeah, right, no trauma... it was bound to happen. I was fucked, no easy way to get out of the mess I was born into.

And fuck if Marcus got a hold of Lauren. I'd kill him. I'd forgo my contract with the FBI and blow his brains out after torturing him. Because the thought of anyone touching Lauren made all the pain and guilt I carried with me every day multiply.

Stopping along the water's edge after who knows how long I'd sprinted, I planted my hands on top of my head, trying to catch my breath, inhaling as if I could smell Lauren's wonderful scent. Being close to her would calm my nerves. The woman who held the power to ease my racing heart deserved the world, not a life filled with misery and self-doubt.

I wouldn't let him take her.

She needed to realize she had a life worth living. Even if that meant I couldn't be in it.

Chapter Fourteen

Lauren

Marcy and Colt were wrapped in each other's arms in the back of my car, the tiny two-door Neon making it impossible for me not to feel Colt's knee press into the seat every time Marcy snuck her hand down his pants.

How did I know she was doing this? Because it was Marcy, and I could see Colt's eyes rolling backward in the rearview window the moment I felt his knee jerk.

"Where do you two want me to drop you off?" I sighed, turning onto the road leading to the strip of The Shore.

"Want to go back to your place?" Marcy asked in Colt's ear, her hand caressing his chest. "I mean, only if you want to come too, Lauren."

I smiled to myself. Marcy wouldn't ditch me for a guy, but at the same time, I knew when my presence wasn't needed. "I think you two could use some alone time."

"Nah, we can all chill together," Colt studdard, his voice hitching.

Jesus, Marcy, give the guy a break.

"Really, I'm okay with going to bed. I was planning on helping Vance at the shop tomorrow morning anyway."

I frowned when I thought of Vance. I was stoked when he gave us tickets to see a concert in the city. We watched the sunset nearly every night since my first kite surfing lesson slash make-out session, but he'd leave me with Marcy and Colt to go work. I helped him at his shop a few days, which was good because he was swamped. The stress was obvious in his eyes, and I thought the concert was going to be his way to relax and spend some time with me. Until I realized there were only three tickets. He apologized, saying he was behind on the books for the shop. He was so driven for a guy in his mid-twenties who wore board shorts and t-shirts every day.

I still pondered why YaYa didn't like him. He was such a hard worker. Maybe she thought he was shady with his business, or maybe Marcy was right about YaYa not liking any males. Vance was always gentle and kind when he was with me. Maybe his father was just the bad guy, and Vance got a bad reputation because of it.

"Maybe Vance would want to watch a movie with us at your place?" Marcy purred, running her finger down Colt's sternum.

"Nah, I think he works pretty late and catches up on Tuesdays. Why don't we hang on the beach tonight? We can have a bonfire." Colt tapped my shoulder. "YaYa would probably like that better anyways. You two can check in with her."

I smiled, thinking the idea was great. Colt had been trying to kiss YaYa's ass ever since she yanked Marcy from underneath him. I found his attempts endearing, and wondered if Vance would ever try to make amends for whatever reason they had bad vibes between each other.

I hoped Marcy would agree to Colt's plan. I could sit by the fire for a few seconds then sneak back to YaYa's since the beach fire pit was across from her house. That way they could be alone, and I wouldn't have to watch them suck-face all night.

Turning on my blinker, I strolled down the strip, pulling under the car port behind YaYa's station wagon. It was quarter to midnight. No way was I going to stay by that fire for long.

"I'll go tell YaYa we're home and are heading down to the beach. She might be annoyed, but whatever." Marcy ran up the stairs while Colt and I began stacking firewood in the beat-up radio flyer wagon.

"How'd you ditch Tucker tonight?" I asked Colt.

He grinned. "He wanted to come, but Vance told him no. He needed to stay back and work with him."

I couldn't contain my smile. Warmth filled me from head to toe. I knew he didn't like when Tucker was around me. That had to mean something.

"Do you think..." I started to ask, but then stopped.

"What?"

I took a deep breath, "Do you think he's still at the shop?" I knew I was tired, but I had the urge to see him.

"Yeah," Colt said nonchalantly, brushing his hands on his thighs after loading the last piece of wood. His eyes searched my face. "You're not thinking of visiting him tonight, are you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It is pretty late..."

His voice was stern. "Don't go over there."

My brows crinkled. "Okay?"

He clenched his jaw, watching for Marcy. "He takes his business very seriously. He'll probably be cranky and put you in a bad mood."

He smiled to lighten the tone, but the anxiety of his voice made me believe it was something else. Maybe he wasn't alone? The idea crushed me. I knew we weren't by any means dating, but I thought we made a connection the other night. Maybe Vance was just another surfer boy who only cared about the beach and nothing else.

"All clear. YaYa's asleep on the couch." Marcy practically ran down the steps holding a small cooler. "I've got some drinks."

I shook my head at her stealth. "YaYa has to know you keep that hidden under your bed."

She shrugged her shoulders. "She hasn't scolded me yet. Let's go!"

Marcy skipped across the street, looping her arm with mine. I had to jog alongside her to keep up while Colt dragged the wagon full of wood behind us.

Passing through the tall grass, we hit the sand, and my heart was happy. Although, I frowned when I looked toward the sky, sad the clouds were covering the beauty of the stars. I hoped I could at least gaze while Marcy and Colt cuddled in their own world.

"Who's out there?" Marcy asked, pointing toward the shore once we passed the grass. A man was standing with his hands above his head looking out toward the water. His frame was familiar, causing my heart to beat faster.

"Hey, Vancy!" Colt yelled, causing the shadow's head to turn. It must have been him, and I couldn't help but be drawn toward him.

He moved my way, only to turn back to the water. My eyes widened once I got closer, realizing he was shirtless and wearing only a pair of navy board shorts. He was toned like an athlete and not a bodybuilder, with narrow hips and defined shoulders.

"Hey," I greeted cautiously, not wanting to startle him.

Clearing his throat, he greeted me. "Hey, how was the concert?"

The worry that he didn't want me to see washed away. "Amazing. Thanks again for the tickets."

His eyes were focused on the water. The waves were calm tonight, but hummed in our ears as they crashed against the shore.

Something was off about him. "Did you get your work done?"

Sweat was dripping down his neck as if he had been running. Finally, he turned to me. "Not as much as I wanted."

"Bummer. Did you run here?"

He nodded. "Needed to clear my head."

My eyes widened in realization. "Did you run from your shop? In your bare feet? Isn't that, what, six miles?"

He chuckled under his breath, rustling his hand through his damp hair. "To be honest, I didn't even realize I came this far."

I took in his front as he turned to face me. I knew he was fit from being pressed against him, but holy shit, he was more than fit. He was ripped. My gaze was glued to his stomach, too shell shocked to count how many bumps for abs he had. His chest was rising and falling, still short of breath from his run.

Fiddling with my hair, I forced myself to pull my gaze from his stomach. His head was turned and still focused on the water. At least I knew he didn't catch me gawking.

He turned to face me, but his focus was on the ground. His brows were creased with worry, and I wanted to run my fingers along them. Something was bothering him.

"Are you okay?" I asked tentatively. Taking a step toward him, I crossed my arms to hug myself from the chilly night ocean air. "Is something wrong with the shop?"

He smiled, but it didn't match the tightness in his cheeks. "Everything will work out. Thanks for showing concern."

I gave him a smile in return, although I knew he wasn't telling me everything. "Want to sit with us by the fire?"

His smile widened some, then he looked toward the fire pit, his brows crinkling in disapproval. I followed his gaze, only to shake my head at Marcy and Colt, making out like they were about to inhale each other.

"Or... I could bring you home?"

Vance's lip quirked, then he sat down on the sand, stretching his legs out in front of him and tapping his hand on the sand for me to join him. "I'm not ready to go home yet."

Instantly, I sat down in the cool sand, eager to be close. He didn't offer to cuddle right away, but his body heat was radiating off him, warming me in more than one way. Not being able to resist, I rested my head on his shoulder.

His tense body relaxed, his chin pressing against my forehead. He took a long inhale, exhaling his warm breath across my face. It tickled my skin.

"Tell me about the concert."

"Opening act was decent. The crowd filled in once the lead singer came on. He's got an amazing voice."

Vance laughed. "Why do you think I got the tickets?"

"You don't peg me as a country fan."

"I figured you'd like him."

"So, you got the tickets for me?"

He smiled. "Yes."

I wanted to contain my frown, but failed. "But you didn't plan on going with me?"

He studied me, then looked out toward the water. "I was hoping I'd be able to go."

His arms flexed as they filled with tension. "I'm sorry you're stressed."

He turned to me and smirked. "This is helping. Actually-" Grabbing me gently by the waist, he urged me to move between his legs, hugging me from behind with his arms. "This will help even more." Running a hand through my hair, he carefully, pulled the blonde locks to one side of my shoulder, resting his head against mine.

I giggled, pleasantly surprised by his affection. No part of the hard exterior of Vance Everret screamed cuddle bug. He hadn't snuggled this closely to me since kite surfing. I blamed it on being in mixed company with Colt and Marcy, not that our presence ever stopped them from hanging all over each other. Vance was more reserved. His walls were as high as the Empire State Building. We had that in common, except my walls were crumbling like stale bread whenever he was near.

"What kind of music do you like?" I asked, wanting to learn more about him.

"I'm an alternative kind of guy. Some hip-hop, I really like everything."

"Even country?"

I felt his lip raise into a smile against my cheek. "Not so much."

We both laughed, and ever so gently, he touched his lips to my cheek, letting them linger in a sweet way. He held me so intimately. It wasn't sexual, and it made my heart pound even harder for him, helping my mind drift away from reality. He was the best medicine for a puzzled and frazzled girl, afraid to make life-changing decisions for her future.

His arms squeezed me tighter as he took a deep breath, causing me to squirm and turn into his body more. The back of my tank top dampened from his sweat, beginning to ride up from the subtle movement. His skin was pressed to the small amount of mine that was now exposed.

A tremor ran through me as his kiss traveled down my cheek and to my jaw. His kisses were still sweet and tender, but I couldn't hide the feeling that was starting to slowly creep underneath my skin.

"Is this okay?" he asked between kisses.

The breath I was holding came out in a rush. "Is what okay?"

My head tilted to the side more, exposing my neck for his lips. He hadn't kissed me like this during our sunset watching.

"I've fought tasting you since I lost control a few weeks ago." His lips slightly parted against my throbbing pulse.

"Lost control?" I asked with a shaky breath.

He smiled into my skin. "I don't normally encourage making out and dry humping on a public beach."

I flushed, squirming against his hold.

He tightened his arms around me. "It was hot, and I was surprised is all. You seem so shy and timid, I wasn't expecting for you to get into it so much."

"I've never acted that way," I confessed.

Do I tell him I'm inexperienced? Colby and I had kissed, but I was willing to do so much more with Vance. At least try. Nothing said I would be able to follow through, for all I knew images of my mother with abusive men could flash into my mind during our intimacy and squash everything.

His warm breath danced down my neck. I wanted him to explore more, kissing me wherever his lips met skin. With a gallant hand, I tugged on the strap to my tank top where Vance's mouth hovered, pulling it down my bicep. His hand met mine, entwining with my fingers.

Taking in a sharp breath, he opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue gently caress the bare skin of my shoulder, traveling up my neck and to my ear. "You have the softest skin."

"I do?" My voice cracked.

"Can I feel you?"

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded, my body pleading for his hands to roam all over me.

Meeting my inner request, his hand crept underneath the front of my tank top, his calloused fingers running along my stomach. I arched my back into his touch, squeezing his hand with mine, debating where to put my other hand that was currently resting on my thigh. My legs fidgeted, one knee rising up while the other straightened, my toes flexing into the cool sand.

His breath was heavy against my skin, and I couldn't help but turn my head to face him. With half-lidded eyes and a parted mouth, he gazed down at me, running his fingers lower on my abdomen. Tilting my head, my lips found his, sucking gently on his bottom lip. He inhaled sharply, kissing me back with more force. Our tongues were rubbing together now, his hand pressing into my skin with more force as it traveled up my stomach, his thumb brushing the edge of my bra.

My back bowed, causing his hand to cover more of the lacy fabric. He took the hint, kneading one breast overtop of the lace. I groaned into his mouth, diving my tongue deeper into his. I wanted the skin on skin, needing to be touched in places he stopped himself from exploring before.

Both hands slid under the wire to grasp each globe. My head fell back against his shoulder. The way his calloused fingers felt against the sensitive skin made me whimper with delight. I'd never been held this way, never felt like I was going to explode if he didn't touch me more. He pinched each nipple gently between his fingers, then stroked them with care with his thumbs. The way he rubbed and caressed felt like heaven.

"If you're loud, I'm going to have to stop," he murmured against my ear. "And I really want to keep touching you."

"Please," I panted.

A guttural sound escaped his throat. One hand still fondling my breast, his other slid down my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. My hips lifted as I bit my lip, trying to hide the groan of anticipation. Vance sucked on my exposed neck, making holding in my whimpers a hard task.

He was flirting with my pantyline now, bold fingers slipping just underneath, running along my pubic bone. Yes, I thought, my legs spreading slightly, pushing against his thighs. The ocean waves mingled with my sporadic breathing, the chilly nighttime air tickling my exposed skin. I wanted him to surround me, to touch me where I'd never been touched, to open me up to a whole new world that I was willing to delve into with him. A world I had been terrified of since I'd learned of its existence. Vance didn't make it feel scary and intimidating. He made me want to explore the unknown rages my body was beginning to expel.

His fingers brushed lower, gently massaging as they went. Both my knees were up now as I thrusted my hips upward, using my feet for leverage.

Releasing a ragged breath, Vance grasped my thigh, lifting it over top his leg, opening me wider. I followed him, doing the same with my other leg. He moved his legs farther apart, spreading me for his hand to dive in, and ever so slowly, he cupped my mound.

I moaned, and his free hand covered my mouth, yanking my head to the side so he could kiss my neck again. I was so exposed, my breasts freed from my bra, my tank top scrunched to my chest. The chilly breeze teased my nipples while Vance's fingers caressed lower.

His fingers slid easily between my folds, causing him to hiss against my neck.

"Wow," he muttered against my skin, only to open his mouth to suck on my shoulder.

My hips moved wildly against his steadily probing finger. Vance stopped kissing my neck, pressing his cheek against mine.

I wasn't sure what I was chasing, unsure what my hips were searching for, until he dove inside, pressing his palm flat against the small untouched bud. I gasped, my breath being completely taken away as he smoothly slid in and out of my virginal hole. This was what the hype was about. This intensity, the urge for more, the urge to release every tingling and pent-up sensation. This frenzied feeling was why the world was obsessed with sex.

"You okay?" he whispered against my neck, still gently moving one finger in and out. "I don't want it to hurt."

"Hurt?" I somehow managed to say. "Why the hell would this hurt?"

His breath tickled my ear. "Feels amazing, doesn't it?" I only groaned in response, my hips meeting his steady hand. "I'll make it feel even better."

"Is that possible?" I gasped, squeezing my eyes closed, trying to comprehend the sensation.

Continuing to push in and out of me with one finger, he moved his thumb, pressing it against the small nub. My breath caught in my throat as my body shook. "It's more than possible, beautiful."

His thumb rotated in a slow rhythm, matching the in and out of his finger. His speed began to pick up, faster with both directions. My legs trembled, opening as wide as they could for his angle to become deeper. His breathing increased along with mine, the flutters in my stomach beginning to multiply, pulsing to my groin.

Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, a surge tingled around my hips, then a massive rush pushed through me. Vance pressed his thumb down on the nub while his finger was buried as deep inside of me as it could, rubbing frantically on a soft bubble. Then, the bubble exploded, a hot and wet swell throbbing through me. My blood pounded in my ears as my lips trembled. Vance must have predicted what was going to happen, his hand grasping my chin, bringing my mouth to his to swallow the uncontrollable moan roaring from my lips.

He sucked on my tongue, his hand stilling inside of me, then gently withdrew. Pulling my legs together and back between his, I curled into him, squeezing my thighs together, still basking in the few pulses that vibrated between my legs. Vance hugged me close to his chest, cuddling me while I trembled from the incredible rush.

Chapter Fifteen

Vance

She was utterly beautiful, spent in my arms. Her chest rising and falling at a steady pace. She was curled contently against me, her nipples still erect and brushing against my pecs. I was rock hard from making her come, but no way was I expecting her to return the favor.

I learned a lot about Lauren within the past hour.

I assumed she wasn't experienced when it came to sex, but by how her body squirmed and reacted to my touch, it was safe to say I'd just witnessed her first orgasm. The thought made my cock twitch, wanting to cram into her snug hole. The way she clamped down on my single finger had me almost coming in my shorts. She was unbelievably tight, and I was sure I'd have to work her with more than one finger before I could fuck her.

But it wouldn't be fucking, would it? Fucking would be quick and for my own pleasure. I'd go slow with Lauren, savor her, kiss every inch of her delectable body before I'd indulge in claiming her.

A shudder revved throughout me. The thought of being as close to Lauren as possible, in the most intimate way, made my heart pound. I wanted to feel that connection, have her lust-filled eyes gazing at me as I'd fill her.

I was going to have to shower tonight and beat off if I ever wanted the color in my balls to return. I could relive this evening, or add to it. Laying her down in the sand, throwing her legs over my shoulder...

"Vance?" she hummed.

I acknowledged her with a kiss to the forehead.

"I just remembered something." She sat up, adjusting her bra and tank top. I frowned inwardly. I liked the way her skin felt against mine.

"What's that?"

Glancing at me, she blushed and bit her lip. "Marcy and Colt."

I grinned and leaned back on my hands. "They're probably naked behind us."

She peeked over my shoulder. "Actually, they're lying on a blanket, and not on top of each other." Her face heated even more. "What if..."

My hand caressed her flushed cheek. "They heard us?" Her eyes darted away from mine. "I wouldn't let that happen."

Pulling her chin, I forced her to look at me. "Don't be embarrassed."

She blushed more, but offered me a small smile. "Now I get what you mean by losing self-control."

Holding in my chuckle, I let her face go and stood, pulling her to stand with me. I massaged her biceps and ran my nose along hers. "I'm practicing my self-control right now."

She took a sharp inhale, her eyes widening. I smiled, giving her a chaste kiss. "Come on."

Taking her hand, we went the twenty yards to Colt and Marcy. The bonfire was winding down, and to my surprise, Marcy was snug against Colt, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Colt was gazing at her.

I knew that look. That's how I looked at Lauren.

We were both in trouble.

"Hey, we should get going," I told Colt.

He kept looking at her as if he would forget what she looked like if he took his eyes away. Colt had spent the last few weeks watching over Lauren, which meant he was spending a lot of time with Marcy as his cover up. No doubt he was falling in love with her.

The beat of my heart sped up. Was that what was happening with me? I shook my head, releasing Lauren's hand. I threw sand on the fire as if that's why I let go of her, but really, I needed distance. Was this feeling love? Was I even capable of having that emotion?

"Marcy," Lauren shook her shoulder in attempts to waike her. "We should get back before YaYa wakes up and calls the police."

Marcy startled, then snuggled into Colt more. Both Colt and Lauren laughed. Finally, Colt stood and picked up Marcy.

"Do you think YaYa will mind if I carry her to bed?"

"I think she'd shoot you," I told Colt. Both he and Lauren laughed, but I was dead serious.

Colt coaxed Marcy awake, getting her to stand on her own and walk back through the tall grasses, holding his hand.

Lauren laced her arm through mine as we followed behind them. I knew YaYa would be standing outside waiting for them, and I was going to hear an earful bringing them back so late at night. Technically, she didn't want me anywhere near either of them to begin with. She didn't seem to share the same feelings toward Colt, though. She even made him dinner a few times. Now that, I was jealous of.

Thankfully, the lights were off, and both girls tiptoed up the steps. Lauren waved bashfully at me before she disappeared into the stilted house.

Colt sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. He didn't want to leave Marcy, and the inner turmoil of feelings he had toward her were clear. He needed to put them aside for now. We had work to do.

I glanced at him, then stomped to the passenger side of his truck. I was thankful he drove to meet the girls so I wouldn't have to make the six-mile trek back without the shoes and shirt I threw somewhere on the beach while I was running from my anxiety.

"Come on. I need to get some shoes and a shirt. Then we need to go trolling."

Colt stared at me in shock. "Are you serious?"

"Yep."

His brows furrowed. "I can't... I mean..."

My eyes narrowed at him. "You don't have a choice."

Putting his mouth into a thin line, he finally moved to his side of the door. "Fine."

I had to find Abby. I needed her to be accessible so I could bring her into the Cage at the right time so I could take Marcus down and keep Lauren safe.

I was growing more and more attached to Lauren, and I couldn't fathom something happening to her. I'd have to come up with a plan to get her out of town during the Cage sale. She couldn't be anywhere within reach for Marcus to do something crazy, like go get her himself. Because the crazy fucker would if it meant he'd make a large profit.

Colt was seething next to me as we rode to the shop. He didn't say a word until I was back in the car fully dressed and told him which bar to go to.

"How can you do this?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Gazing out the window, I remained neutral. "It's business."

"Fucking with people's emotions?" he said in bewilderment. "I get the one night stands, the one night sweet whispers, but you've been leading her on for weeks."

"I'm not bringing her in,"I snorted in disgust.

"But you're willing to fuck someone else?"

I hid the tremors that ran through my body. Screwing was never hard for me, but that was because I had never felt a connection before. No one said I needed to fuck girls before I brought them into the Cage. I'd have to cross that bridge when I got there. "I haven't slept with her."

His face scrunched together. "So? I haven't slept with Marcy either."

My brow raised. I didn't buy that.

His face flushed more, this time from embarrassment instead of anger. "She... I mean we haven't been... " He sighed in frustration.

I knew what he was getting at. I felt the same about Lauren. She deserved more than a quick fuck on the beach. She deserved more than the messed-up shell of a man I'd become. I was willing to bet Colt shared similar feelings.

As much as I wanted to console him, I still had a job to do. I made sure my voice was stern. "This is why I told you not to get involved. You're letting your emotions get in the way. If you want to work for me, you have to troll and find girls. I don't give a shit about women's feelings. We don't have much time, and I need more women."

Colt's eyes narrowed. "I don't buy that. If you didn't care about Lauren, you wouldn't have me babysitting her every night while you make deals and attend your top-secret meetings."

"I'm not attached." I lied. "YaYa would kill all of us if Marcy and Lauren got mixed up in how fucked up The Shore has become. There are too many trollers out there that could snatch them without realizing who they were."

"Fine. The next time I see Marcy and Lauren, I'll make sure to bring Tucker."

I glared at him. He knew I couldn't stand Tucker, and the little shit realized how much I hated when Tucker was anywhere near Lauren.

"Tucker is busy doing his job. He's brought two girls in the past two weeks. If you don't want to fuck them, fine. You still need to search and try to persuade them. Otherwise, you need to get the fuck out of this business."

His foot pounded on the breaks when we reached the nightclub, slamming his door as he jumped out. It was obvious he didn't want to be here. I secretly hoped he would tell me to fuck off and leave, but he had nowhere to go, and the feeling of abandonment and despair distorts what's right and what's wrong in a person's head.

Colt broke the silence as we walked through the parking lot. "Lauren is a good girl. Marcy told me she's been through a ton of shit. She doesn't deserve to be brought into this," he whispered.

"I know," I matched his tone, "which is why I've had you stay with them. Look-" We stopped in the middle of the parking lot, the thumping music blaring from the club in the background. "After you bring me a girl, I'll see if I can place you somewhere else. Maybe you can focus on deal transports. I can't promise you anything."

Colt only nodded, still unsure what he wanted. Momentarily, I debated bringing him into my other side, but that would be too dangerous. Maybe Riley would be willing to have him as an informant. Colt was trustworthy. It was his best quality, but Riley might not be interested in offering him the same clean record as he offered me. Colt was new, and didn't have rank like I did. But having another man on my side might make this job a touch easier.

The club was busier than it had been all month. The summer vacationers were slowly coming into town, and I cringed. It was easier to find women to hunt.

"I need to find a bartender," I said to Colt over the loud music.

He glanced around, his hunter eyes scanning for possible girls. He was trying to get into the zone and please me. I hated myself a little bit more inside for encouraging him to go against his conscience.

Colt took off in the opposite direction as me. Whether he was going to find a girl or he just wanted to get the fuck away from me, I wasn't sure. Making my way to the back porch, I still hadn't found Abby yet, and hoped she'd be at the back bar like before. A few girls approached me, the drunk haze in their eyes as they tried to flirt with me. I only ignored them, wanting this night to be over with. Maybe she didn't work here anymore? That would be the safest bet for her.

Pulling myself into a corner, I took out my phone. Maybe texting a bit with Lauren would help distract me. If she weren't already asleep. I imagined a woman's first orgasm would be tiring. I smirked to myself, loving the fact I was the one to give it to her.

Sleep well, beautiful.

I waited impatiently for her to text back. Then I saw the blonde with the huge tits working the bar, and poor Abby in her shadow. She looked miserable. Taking a deep breath and putting away my phone, I took a seat at the bar, hoping the blonde wouldn't remember me. By the way she slithered to my side of the bar, I wasn't so lucky.

"What happened the other night?" she pouted, leaning over the bar and putting her tits on display yet again. I only glanced this time. I wasn't in the mood for this bitch.

"Something came up. I need to talk to Abby."

Her brows narrowed. "Abby is busy. Talk to me."

"What do I need to do for you to give her a fifteen-minute break?" Fifteen minutes would be enough to get the information I needed.

She smirked, pulling her shirt down more, revealing her bright pink bra. "Spend fifteen minutes with me, then we'll talk."

I contained my sigh and stood from the stool, leaning so I was inches from her face. She didn't smell good like Lauren. She was too florally. It burned my nostrils. "Fine."

She smirked, tossing her smock on the counter and slithered her way toward me. She didn't even have the decency to tell Abby she left. Thankfully, Abby didn't notice I was here. "Follow me."

She lead me passed the bathroom where a few couples were being less than appropriate. She turned and winked at me, grabbing my hand and yanking me into an office, slamming the door in the process.

She jumped me the second we entered the dark room.

Literally. Luckily, I had fast reaction time, otherwise I would have fallen on my ass when she clinched her legs around my hips. Her tongue dove into my mouth without hesitation, and I was beyond baffled.

"I've been dreaming about this for a month," she panted, then plunged her tongue back down my throat, her hands gripping my hair painfully. My hands clamped down on her ass to hold her upright.

Guilt rushed through me. She was nothing like Lauren, nowhere near as soft or delicate as she was. My lips didn't belong on this blonde bitch.

My hands dropped from her butt once my knees hit a desk, causing her to squeal as she thudded against the hard surface. I tried to pull back from her, but she kept her grip around my neck.

Ignoring my resistance, she unlatched one hand and went for my shorts.

I grabbed her wrist. "Whoa, whoa, whoa."

"What's wrong?" She flirted, attempting to sound innocent. Releasing her other hand from my neck, she reached for a lamp, nearly blinding me when the light flicked on.

She bit her lip, pulling her shirt completely over her head and unclasping her bra.

The bra did those big tits a lot of justice. "You don't need to take your clothes off."

Pouting, she began playing with her tits, and I frowned. "Don't you want to touch them?"

If this moment would have happened before I met Lauren, I'd be deep in this bitch by now, but I just couldn't do it. Now I knew what Colt was talking about. I closed my eyes, backing toward the door. I couldn't do this.

"I need to go." I snuck out, ignoring her calling after me.

What was my problem? Was I really that into this girl? How the fuck was I going to get through this?

My heart pumped rapidly, sweat dripping down my neck as I scurried down the hall. The noise of the music made my ears bleed, the sound of blood pounding at a deafening rate. My emotions were beginning to take over my life, and it just couldn't happen.

I had too much shit to get done. Too much hatred towards my father. Both my hands scratched the top of my head, then I slammed into a body, nearly knocking over the frail frame. My hands left my head, grabbing her waist to keep her from falling.

"I'm so sorry!" She shrieked, her big blue eyes staring at me in apology.

Of course, it was Abby, and I wasn't in the right frame of mind to bring her to the dark side.

"What are you doing here?" She asked curiously.

"Hi, look, I want to talk with you, but not here," I said quickly, glancing behind me, worried big tits would come chasing at me without her clothing.

Her brows pinched together with confusion. "Okay...?"

"Tell me your phone number."

"Do you want me to write it down for you on a piece of paper? The office back there-"

I held up my hands to stop her. "No, not necessary, I can remember it." I wouldn't be caught dead going back there.

"Okay, it's 465-975-6604."

I closed my eyes, replaying the number in my head, then bolted around her and through the club, focusing on the numbers and completely ignoring everyone around me until I got to Colt's truck and entered her number into my phone. Not surprisingly, Colt was sitting in the truck, smoking. By how his eyes were half-lidded, I assumed it wasn't a cigarette.

"Sorry, boss. I just couldn't do it."

Me either. "Let me drive you home."

He took a big hit then blew it out of his nose. "It's not strong. I can drive three miles. Here."

I glanced at him then nodded, taking the joint. Participating in narcotics wasn't normally my thing, but I was so wound up by all my responsibilities fighting with my emotions, the gentleness of the drug might bring me some peace. Taking a puff as I moseyed around the car to the passenger side, I breathed in the smoke, letting the drug slowly take over. He was right, it wasn't strong, but it did the trick. I was much calmer.

The ride back to the shop was steady, and I was thankful all the cars that were there earlier had left. Most likely Colt would sleep on the couch in the backroom. I hadn't decided if I'd stay in the spare room above the shop or go home. It was nearly two in the morning, and I'd have to be back in five hours.

"How is it, one woman, can completely control my mind?" he asked as he shut off the truck.

Taking another hit of the joint, baffled, I shook my head then passed it to him. "Fuck if I know."

We sat quietly, letting the drug envelope us in that truck. I could fantasize about Lauren this way without the negative reality tugging at my brain, telling me how much I'd fuck her over if I laid a greedy hand on her again.

With the wispy smoke blowing out my nose, I dreamed about Lauren. Her blonde hair fanned across her pillow, her dreamy eyes gazing at me as she stirred awake from a night together. She'd cuddle me, her scent surrounding me, her soft hands stroking my back as we would hold each other.

We'd own a little hut on an island where the wind was always perfect for our kites. Maybe we'd start our day off by the water, either she'd lay on the beach while I'd surf, or we'd ride tandem with the sunrise. She'd love that.

Then the high of the drug faded along with the hope that my dreams might actually come true.

Colt had vanished from the truck without me realizing. Stepping down from the truck, I squinted into the moonlight. The clouds had faded. It was so bright in the middle of the night. Lauren would love this view.

Sighing, I trudged up the steps to the shop, opening the unlocked door, finding Colt passed out on the couch like I assumed he would. Glancing at my phone, it was three AM, and I had a missed text from Lauren.

Lauren: You too. I know I will. I'll see you in the morning. :o)

I rubbed my face, fighting the guilt from my lips being pressed against another woman. I was going to have to fight that feeling if I were to bring Abby into this mess. I'd have to coax her somehow. Maybe she'd be satisfied with a night on the beach, and I could drug her and bring her in. A shiver ran through my body. Drug her. No matter how hard I fought it, I was one of the sick fuckers who ran this devastating establishment. I thought like them, worked alongside them, I was just as guilty as the rest. Working for the FBI should give me a sense of empathy, but it didn't. It was a cover up for how my head truly processed life.

Chapter Sixteen

Lauren

"I get it now," I sighed into the darkness of our room, relaxed and sated on the top bunk.

Marcy giggled. "It's about time. Did you do it on the beach?"

"Not all of it, but it was something new. I've never been touched like that before," I confessed, remembering the heat of his body and the steady in and out of his finger. My thighs tingled as I imagined it.

"Colt hasn't made a move really," she sighed. "I mean, we've fooled around, but I still haven't seen his package."

I laughed. "Marcy, I'm impressed."

"I'm frustrated," she grumbled.

I sighed contently, rolling to my side and scrolling through my phone. My high instantly vanished when I saw a text from my mother. She'd made a point to contact me every day, but this one made the guilt hit hard.

Mom: I had to call Tony tonight. He left a nasty shiner on my eye. I think he broke my wrist. I don't know what to do.

Tony was the crazy one that paid her the most. I wouldn't be surprised if he broke something on her. He'd done it before. The money I sent her must not have gotten there, or she already blew it on heavier drugs. My first instinct was to race back home to help her, but I wouldn't get their fast enough. I hated doing what I was about to do.

Hang in there. I'll get you help.

Swiping through my contacts, I found the one person I knew who drop anything for me. It was late, but I still took the chance. Jumping down from the top bunk, I peeked at Marcy who had her eyes closed, then went and sat on the wicker couch on the back porch.

"Lo?" Colby answered on the first ring. "You okay?"

"Hey, I'm sorry I haven't called," I apologized. "I'm okay, but my mom..."

Colby let out a deep breath. "Want me to check on her?"

"Tony came over, I guess," I whispered, shivering from the memories of the visions he'd placed in my head.

"Fuck. Figures the one night I don't drive by your mom's house on the way home from the shop. I would've stopped if I saw his truck, Lo. I'm so sorry."

Why did he have to be so sweet? The sincerity in his voice made me feel worse. Why couldn't he make my emotions rise like Vance?

My brows pinched together. "Don't be sorry. She's not your responsibility, she's mine. I was stupid for leaving her."

"No, you're not stupid. I shouldn't have pressured you to come live with me. You wouldn't have felt the need to run away." The sorrow was obvious in his voice, and I hated it.

"Colby don't say that--"

I could hear rustling on the other end of the phone as he interrupted me. "I didn't mean to make you feel guilty just now. I'll go over there and bring her to the hospital if she's bad. Want me to call you when I get there? Or I can text you so you can go to sleep."

I sighed. "Call me please, I won't be able to sleep until I know she's okay."

"Alright. Don't stress. She'll be in good hands."

I didn't respond verbally because my tongue was stuck in my throat. This had happened a dozen times, but I'd never been away from her when it did. What if this was the final time? I'd never be able to live with myself if something happened to her because I left.

"Lo, I mean it. Stop worrying. I got this," he reassured. I heard his truck start in the background. He literally jumped out of bed for me in the middle of the night. I didn't deserve for this man to be in love with me.

"Thank you, Colby," I croaked, trying to hold back emotion.

"Lo Lo," he said gently into the phone. "Baby, please trust me. I've got this. Take your time coming home. If you being away for longer means I'll have you forever, then the wait will be worth it."

I sniffled softly between tears, pushing back the guilt for the feelings I didn't have for him. "You're sure of yourself."

"I love you, Lauren. I'll always take care of you."

Closing my eyes, I willed my lips to tell him I love you back, but it would mean more to him than what it meant to me. At least right now.

"Colby," was all I could whisper. "Thank you."

"I'll call you in ten minutes or so." He wanted to sound cheery like his normal self, but I could hear the sadness in his voice.

A few tears shed as I went to get the soft crocheted blanket from the top bunk. Marcy was sleeping soundly on her bunk as I grabbed the blanket and went back to the porch. I curled it around me, cozying myself the best I could on the lounger. Worry trembled through my body as I anxiously watched my phone, willing Colby's number to pop up with good news.

Vance could help this tremor stop with the touch of his hands. My heart pounded, a silent plea for his arms to be wrapped around me while I waited. I shook my head, shame filling me for feeling so strongly toward Vance and not Colby. Would Vance be willing to do what Colby is doing? Go take care of my drug-addict mother while I was off 'finding myself'? I had no idea if his loyalty was the same as Colby's, and sadness filled me when I thought about it, because I doubted anyone would ever be as loyal as Colby.

My phone beeped, but it wasn't Colby. It was a text from Vance. I couldn't stop my smile from widening.

Vance: Sleep well, beautiful.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It's amazing how three words from a certain person could change your mood. I began to type back, but Colby's phone call interrupted me from sending it.

"Hey," I answered instantly.

"We're on our way to the hospital," his voice was muffled by the sound of his truck revving.

"Is she okay?"

He paused. "She's not feeling a thing, that's for sure. But her wrist is really messed up."

My eyes scrunched closed. "What about the rest of her?" He didn't respond right away, confirming my answer. "He beat her to hell, didn't he?"

"I'll make sure she's okay," he assured. "She's not in pain."

Anger filled me. She wasn't in pain because she was so fucked-up.

"Try to sleep. I'll let you know what the doctors say." I sighed into the phone. We both knew I wouldn't be able to sleep.

"You staying in my room?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"No, I'm on the top bunk with Marcy."

"Why?" he asked playfully. "You don't want your own room?"

I shrugged my shoulders as if he could see me. "It's not my room."

He laughed under his breath. "What's mine is yours, silly."

I laughed with him.

"Would you share it with me if I were there?" he asked softly.

I swallowed. If Colby were here, I probably would have. I never would have met Vance, because Colby would have distracted us from meeting them on the beach. And I still would have been confused as ever, not experiencing this new livelihood Vance had brought out of me. I'd still be the lost, troubled girl that I was, but now, I had a sense that there was a possibility for more. The growth in my heart gave me a sense to survive, that there was more to live for.

"Yes," I whispered.

I sensed his grin. "Sleep, Lo, hug a pillow like it's me."

Swallowing, I said thickly, "Okay."

"I'll text you. Goodnight, baby."

I hung up the phone, then sent my text to Vance.

Grabbing the throw pillow, I squeezed it to my chest. I didn't hug it as if it were Colby, I hugged it as though it were Vance. And deep down, where the guilt and shame disappeared and transformed into courage and conviction, I drifted to sleep, dreaming of the sea green eyes and dark hair that brought me to life.

***

Colby texted me around five in the morning telling me my mother had broken her wrist and a few ribs. No doubt Tony did a number on her. I was thankful she was being taken care of, but terrified they'd give her pain meds. Maybe they'd force her to go into a rehab facility. I knew she wouldn't be so lucky. She didn't have insurance, and wouldn't qualify for help even if she wanted it.

Marcy waved for me to go away when I asked her if she wanted to join me at The Surf Shop. I guessed that meant Colt wasn't working.

I should have felt guiltier when my heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Vance this morning, but I was strangely at ease. I knew my mom was okay, and even though I hardly slept last night, seeing Vance would help me forget about the troubles I had endured.

I took the steps two at a time to The Surf Shop with a coffee in each hand. Vance was up late last night too, and I was sure he'd need the caffeine as badly as I did. He was stressed about work, and I didn't exactly help him with reliving the tension.

Pausing at the top step, I swallowed, thinking about how hard he was against my lower back. Touching him and returning the favor didn't even cross my mind. Sweat began to tickle the back of my neck at the thought. I'd never touched a man there. I'd felt Colby against me through clothing a few times, but he never asked for more.

"What are you doing out here?" Vance greeted with a soft smile. His eyes were tired, and I was thankful mine were hidden by sunglasses. I glanced down at his tan board shorts curiously, then diverted my attention elsewhere. I couldn't think about him like that! Not right now!

"You going to come inside?" he smirked, holding the door open for me. "Is that for me or is Marcy with you?"

"Marcy is still sleeping, this is for you." I handed him the cup of coffee, quickly slipping passed him. He smelled delicious, freshly showered and ready for the day. Even with tired eyes, he was still gorgeous. I noticed Colt was asleep on the couch in the backroom. They must have both been exhausted and slept here last night.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked through a raspy breath, trying to gain my senses back from imagining what was underneath his shorts.

"Not really," he let out a long breath. "What about you?"

I nodded, attempting to hold in my blush. Guilt pushed the crimson away. I shouldn't have slept at all. "For the most part."

Concern etched his face. "You okay?" He stepped toward me, setting his coffee down and gently taking my sunglasses from my face.

Meeting his eyes, I began to tell him about my mother.

He listened intently, not interrupting me but letting me finish.

"Maybe you should go see her," his words were filled with compassion. The fire inside of me that flamed for him flickered, knowing he didn't want me to leave, but wanted what was best for me.

"She'll be okay. Colby is watching her."

His eyes were hooded as he stroked my cheek. "You soften when you say his name."

"He does a lot for me," I said truthfully. I gazed at Vance, trying to predict what he was thinking.

His thumb methodically caressed along my cheek, and I couldn't help but close my eyes and lean into his hand. I craved for him to touch me ever since his hands left me last night. My arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, holding his body close to mine, burrowing my head into his chest.

He sighed into my hair, wrapping his arms around me. "I would have come back to you last night," he murmured. "You lied in your text."

I nuzzled his chest then tilted my head toward his. "By the time I knew what was happening, I didn't want to wake you if you'd actually fallen asleep."

He stroked my face in the delicate way only he could do. "Call me next time, okay?"

I nodded, gazing at his lips. He read my mind, tilting his head to touch his mouth with mine. It was sweet and delicate, and everything I needed. To be held close in his arms, to feel his warmth and embrace. Nothing else mattered when I was with Vance Everret.

Leaning his forehead against mine, he let out a low breath. "I have to unlock the doors in five minutes."

"What do you want me to do?"

His nose rubbed against mine. "Kiss me."

I smiled, tightening my arms around his waist, and did as he asked. The sweet and tender kisses transformed into heated licks, my tongue mingling with his passionately. I couldn't help but run my hands through his scalp, grasping his hair to pull him in closer. Vance groaned into my mouth, lifting me from my feet and urging my legs to wrap around his waist to set me on the front counter.

His erection was full on now, pressing against my pelvis, only our shorts between us. He nipped my bottom lip then down my jaw and to my neck. I had to clamp my mouth shut from moaning out loud, remembering Colt was in the backroom. The way his hips rotated against my pelvis insinuated so much more than a simple make out. And for the first time in my life, I was ready.

Rip off my clothes and have your way with me, Vance Everret. I'm ready to give you everything.

I couldn't control my hands from clawing up his spine and under his shirt, needing to feel his hot skin against my palms. I only got a glimpse from a distant glow of a fire what his body looked like without a shirt, and I was curious to see him in broad daylight. Tan, strong, delicious... my imagination was running wild along with my hips. Vance wasn't stopping me either, one hand was still grasping my hip and pulling me into him while the other was on the nape of my neck. He gently tugged my hair, causing me to gasp in delight.

My lips found his neck, and I couldn't help but gently suck, the heady scent of his masculinity overpowering my senses.

He growled, yanking on my hair to bring my mouth back to his. His kiss was stronger, demanding dominance. I obeyed his lips, letting him take over, my hands moving from his back to his front.

Like a bucket of cold water was tossed on us, the front door chimed and we both froze. A deep, throaty chuckle filled the room, and I couldn't jump down fast enough.

Marcus cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt."

Vance instantly turned cold, the air became thick as he pulled me off the counter and stood in front of me. His stance was broad and protective.

Marcus smirked at Vance, peeking over his shoulder to wink at me. "Guess it is hump day."

I flushed, my eyelids squeezing closed wanting to disappear.

"Lauren, will you go and start pricing the new arrival of wetsuits in the back? They're on the left side of the couch." Vance didn't look at me, but by the tone of his voice I knew he was serious. My face redder than it ever had been, I made a dash to the back room, horrified.

I was on the verge of ripping my clothes off, what if he would have come in later? A chill ran through me. I needed to get a hold of my hormones. They never took control of my actions before Vance.

I passed by a snoring Colt to grab the box. He was sleeping so soundly, it was cute. I think he really cared about Marcy, and that made me like him even more.

"Long time no see," a familiar voice said from behind me. I jumped around, only to sag in relief to see it was Tucker.

"You startled me," I laughed as quietly as I could, holding my hand to my chest. "Can you help me move these boxes away from Colt. I don't want to wake him up," I whispered.

He gave me a smile, then grabbed the box and moved it to the other end of the backroom.

"Who's Vancy talking to?"

I took my car key from the lanyard around my neck, using it to open the large cardboard box. "His dad."

Tucker's eyes narrowed, filling with curiosity. "I'll be right back."

I nodded, busying myself to begin sorting the wet suits out by size and color. I couldn't believe how many fit into one box. The store would start picking up more according to Vance with the summer crowd, and he would run out of these within the week.

Just as I almost had all of the suits in their respective size piles, my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I blushed when I grabbed it, surprised it didn't fall out when Vance set me on the counter.

Worry washed over me when I saw it was Colby.

"Hey. She's being released soon."

"How is she?"

"Honestly? She's pretty doped up. I'll stay with her tonight if it'd make you feel better." Colby always said the right things.

"You should go home and get some sleep. I can't thank you enough for taking her." Then I realized it was a Wednesday. "Oh my gosh, your work!"

Colby chuckled. "I can be late. Don't worry about it."

"You haven't slept all night, you shouldn't go into work with that heavy machinery."

"Are you worrying about me now?"

I could sense his smile. "I always worry about you."

"That makes me feel special. I've got to sign some paperwork for your mom. I'll call you with an update later. Love you, Lo."

And there he said it again... those three little words that meant so much more to him than they did to me. If I thought my guilt had faded, I was wrong. It came back full swing once I remembered who was waiting for me back home. I was living in a fantasy world on the beach. My hot surfer making out with me on the countertop of his surf shop.

Yeah, I was being a total bitch to Colby.

"Thanks, Colby," I whispered, fighting back tears and remorse. "I don't know what else to say."

"You don't have to say it back," he murmured, his voice full of understanding. "Talk to you later."

I hung up the phone, rubbing my face vigorously to stop myself from crying. I hated doing this to him. I was leading him on, and using him to take care of my mother who I left in the dark.

After rubbing my eyes nearly raw, I opened them to find Vance leaning against the wall.

Scrunching my eyes closed, I took a deep breath. "How much did you hear?"

Vance smiled. "You should go home."

My heart started to constrict out of my chest. Go home? Back to the slum and my junky job, taking care of my mom and praying her drug dealers wouldn't kill her? I was being selfish right now, pretending time would freeze and I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

I didn't want to go home. I was finally starting to feel alive.

I slowly padded over to him, my hands finding the hem of his grey t-shirt. Whispering, I confessed, "I don't want to go home."

He let out a deep breath through his nose, studying my features intently. "If you don't want to go home, then why are you so upset after talking to your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend." My eyes narrowed. "I've never thought of him that way."

Vance raised a brow in question.

I rolled my eyes, taking a few steps away from him. "He's the only male I've ever trusted. All the other men I've known have been abusive and terrifying. Colby grew up with me, he's like a brother. His parents are dead, and we've always had that connection. I don't know who my dad is, and neither does he. His mom died in a car accident, while mine is practically dead already." Tears filled my eyes as I relived my life in this backroom that smelled like plastic and packaging peanuts.

Vance held my face in his hands. "I understand," his eyes were filled with kindness. "If you need to go home to him, I get it."

My eyes scrunched closed. "No," I said firmly. "The past few weeks..." My voice caught in my throat. How could I describe the changes he was reviving in me?

Taking a deep breath, I focused on being strong. "I want to be here with you."

The rise and fall of his chest matched the drumming of my heart, pounding loudly in my ears as I waited for him to respond. His eyes were hard as he stared into mine, searching for something. His jaw clenched as though he were angry, and I couldn't fathom why.

My lip trembled, waiting for him to speak. Was he going to tell me he didn't feel the same, that I was wasting my time? Was I nothing but an in-between season fling for him?

But we couldn't be a fling, we hadn't even had sex. We cuddled, we kissed, we talked. He knew about my messed-up life and didn't judge me. Talking about my mother wasn't easy, but with Vance all my secrets came tumbling out.

The only sense of comfort I had was from his hands still cradling my face as his brain ticked.

I was going to ramble more, but his mouth stopped me, kissing me with full force. This kiss was different than the other times, more desire and passion exploded from him. It was needy and... dangerous. Any apprehensions about his background vanished when he put his hands and mouth on me. There was no way a man who could make me turn into a puddle in an instance could be dangerous... the only danger would be his ability to shatter my already broken heart.

Fisting his shirt with both hands, I pulled him into me, wanting to be devoured. Knowing Colt was just on the other side of the room didn't faze me as I plunged my tongue deeper into his mouth. He was a new beginning, and I grasped the back of his hair, never wanting to let him go.

"Lauren, I need to work." His ragged breath spoke between kisses.

I giggled against his lips, continuing to kiss him.

Finally, he stood tall, holding my hips firmly. His eyes were filled with lust, but I understood now wasn't the time. Still didn't mean I was ready to let him go. I'd been dreaming about him showing me this type of reckless affection since our first night on the beach.

"How late do you need to work?" I asked, running the tip of my finger down the nape of his neck, my eyes glued to his lips, debating standing on my tip toes to taste them again.

He sighed, his arms wrapping around me tighter. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much I'm going to see you next week."

I frowned. "Why?"

He looked away licking his lips. "I have to go out of town for a conference. There's a new line for our main merchandise and I need to learn about it, get samples, talk to buyers and what not."

"Over the weekend?" I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice. It was a Wednesday. Maybe he would only be gone a few days.

He swallowed and looked away. "Yeah. I won't be back until next week."

My grip around his neck loosened. The thought of him leaving after we'd connected sucked.

"Hey," he took his hands and cupped my cheeks gently. "You won't even know I'll be gone."

The slight smile on my face didn't match my eyes. "Where are you going?"

"SoCal. Where all the surfers in the US are." He grinned, running his thumb along my jaw.

An idea crossed my mind. What was holding me back from traveling with him? My boss at the arcade knew I was going to be gone for a while. Vance had paid me a ridiculous amount of money, enough that I could send more to my mom and be able to survive for a week in California. Having him all to myself sent a shiver of excitement and nervousness down my spine.

Batting my eyelashes without realizing it, I offered, "I could come with you."

The reaction on his face wasn't what I expected. He paled, his eyes searching everywhere but my face. Then his hands left my waist, one running along the back of his neck as he winced.

My own hands dropped instantly from his neck to around my chest. I wanted to disappear and erase what I'd just said. Why would I assume he wanted me to go with him? Now I was more confused than ever.

"I'm constantly busy. I wouldn't be able to pay any attention to you. The hotel isn't even that nice." His arms found their way around my waist again, his forehead tilting to touch mine. He was trying to make this awkward moment disappear. Unfortunately, I still felt rejected.

"Besides, I was hoping you'd help keep an eye on the shop with Colt and Tucker," he added, kissing my temple.

"I would be fine holed up in a hotel," I whispered, heat creeping up my spine. "We haven't really been alone."

His nostrils flared as he blew out air, both his hands skimmed up my arms and around to the back of my head, clutching my hair in his grasp, cradling me as if he were debating planting another kiss on my lips. Contemplation was heavy in his crinkled brows. "Do you want to be alone with me?"

Inhaling sharply, I closed my eyes, attempting to contain my moan of pleasure from his gentle tug of my hair. "Yes." I breathed, then met his intense stare. "I do."

His jaw clenched as his eyes glanced at my mouth. The wheels were spinning in his head, and I was about to explode from the sexual tension. His hips were pressed against mine, our body heat mingling with each other's. I could feel his breath on my cheek, hear the sound of it as he took each steady inhale. Not being able to resist, I uncrossed my arms, running one hand to his pecs and the other around his hip. Daringly, I crept one hand under his t-shirt, wanting to feel his warm, tanned skin. The dip of his spine shivered as my finger traced higher up his back.

"When I get back," he swallowed, licking his lips, "we'll spend time together, okay?"

I smirked, crooking my hand around his neck to pull him to me. He kissed me softer than I wanted, but I didn't change the dynamic of his lips. I enjoyed his gentleness, savoring the small bit of time in the backroom we had together before he left.

Chapter Seventeen

Vance

I lied to her.

Lying was something that came easy to me. It was a part of me. I grew up surrounded in deceitfulness. It wasn't until I saw the damage it did to others that I decided it wasn't the best route to take.

Yet I still told Lauren I was going out of town, when really, I was hunting for other women to bring to the Cage. Abby being one of them. It pained me to meet her eyes with mine. Lauren looked at me as if I meant the world to her. She was growing just as fond of me as I was of her, and that terrified me.

"Colt!" I shouted from my office, needing to give him the low down.

"What's up?" he greeted, stepping into my office with ease.

Turning in my chair, I rolled to my desk, planting my elbows on the beechwood. "Close the door and sit down."

He eyed me, but did as I asked.

"You need to keep Marcy and Lauren busy until sometime next week."

His eyes lifted. "No problem."

I pointed my finger at him. "I mean twenty-four-seven. I don't want her out of your sight."

"That might be kind of hard to do, don't you think?"

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. "They'll be safe at YaYa's. But I don't want them going anywhere else unless you're with them. I don't want them sitting on the beach without you. I don't want them going to the Hangout without you. I don't want them to walk twenty feet away to use the restroom unless you're nearby."

Colt stared at me. "I love hanging out with them, but they might get sick of me."

My knee bounced under my desk. "I'll be sure there are things for you to do. They won't get bored."

Reaching into my desk drawer, I pulled out a burner phone. "Text me wherever you go and for how long you'll be there. If I'm going into town around here, I'll text you from another burner phone."

I gave him a hard stare, wanting him to know how serious I was. "You MUST keep them as far away from me as possible. Can you handle that?"

Worry crossed his eyes as his jaw ticked. "What happens if I can't be with them all of the time?"

My eyes found my computer screen, focusing on the photo of me and my mother in the bottom corner. I failed her, and I couldn't let something bad happen to Lauren. I needed to protect her the best way I could.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I finally met Colt's eyes. "They'll bring Lauren to the Nest. They'll do it without hesitation."

Colt's eyes softened. "Should Tucker help?"

Tucker knew who Marcus was now. I'd seen them interact more than once, including when he asked Tucker to join him outside when they left earlier. If I had to guess, Marcus was telling Tucker to keep an eye on Lauren as well.

"Tucker will be busy helping me." That was going to be the truth. He'd stay by me, hunt girls, and hopefully do the dirty work I had no desire to do. Tucker was a bad seed and loved taking advantage of naïve and vulnerable women.

"Good. He might be hard to keep away from Lauren." I nodded in agreement.

"So, you're not going to SoCal?" Colt asked.

I shook my head, still feeling guilty for making up such a lie on the spot. I was going to have to arrange for products to come in from the "convention."

"I'll have a package for Lauren in here tomorrow morning. It'll have a bunch of shit for you guys to do while I'm gone. It'll help distract them."

Colt nodded then stood. "I'll keep her safe, boss."

I lifted one side of my mouth. "You better."

He chuckled, waiting for me to join him, but I was dead serious. He better not slack off, or I'd have his ass.

"Go finish with the inventory list, then head back to the apartment and catch some sleep. I have a feeling you're going to be short on it the next week." He gave me a curt nod then left, leaving the door cracked open.

It was twenty minutes after seven when Lauren poked her head into my office. She had been manning the counter and pricing new products while I plotted out the next week. I essentially needed three plans. One to hunt for girls and Abby, one to keep Lauren busy, and one complete bullshit plan that Lauren would think I'd be doing the next week and a half.

"I locked the door. Everything is priced and ready for tomorrow. Did you want me to come in and open?" she asked sweetly.

"No, sleep in. I think Colt was planning on hanging out on the beach with Marcy all day. Tucker can manage to hold it down on his own."

She gave me a knowing grin. She knew I didn't like when she was alone with Tucker.

I couldn't help but look at her from head to toe as she leaned against the doorframe. She wore beach girl well. Her skin had been bronzed by the sun the past few weeks, her long legs toned and only partially covered by her tiny white shorts. Her navy tank top fit her snuggly, letting my imagination run wild with what she would look like without it. I'd felt her tits, and they were soft and perfect, no doubt they looked as beautiful as they felt.

I shifted in my seat, trying to look unaffected by her presence, like I wasn't secretly wishing she'd start stripping in front of me and straddle me.

"So..." she deadpanned, fiddling with her hands in front of her, then sashayed toward my seat and around the desk.

Shit...shit shit shit... she was reading my fucking filthy mind.

Making her way to me, she rolled my seat so I was facing her, wedging her way in between my legs and wrapping her arms around my neck. Standing from my seat, my hands found their way around her back, hugging her close to my chest. My cock was twitching from my earlier thoughts, and her body being pressed against mine wasn't helping.

"What time do you leave tonight?" she asked into my chest.

I breathed her in, loving her citrus scent. "Not until the morning."

Her body stiffened slightly. Pulling from my chest, she gazed up at me, her eyes wide with fear at first, then softened with curiosity.

Her thumb made circles around my neck, calming me from all my worries. "Marcy is with Colt at your place."

I smirked. "And?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Can I come over and help you pack? Maybe we could watch a movie with them or something."

She was trying to be nonchalant, and it was adorable. I wanted to spend every second with her. My cock was sending signals to my brain, telling me to take her home and fuck her before I continued lying to her. Should I be greedy tonight?

"Is that what you want?" I asked, running my hand along her cheek. She leaned into my touch, gently nodding.

Fuck my conscience. I wanted to be with her tonight. For all I knew, this could be my last night with her.

Letting her go, I grabbed my laptop bag and shut down my computer. "We'll grab dinner and head to my place."

"Marcy texted me. I guess they ordered pizza."

I grinned, turning to face her from my desktop. "I own a few places."

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming an O. I couldn't help but broaden my grin. "I own Colt and Tucker's apartment, but I have my own place."

She only nodded, her brows furrowing deep in thought.

My face fell. "Unless, you were looking forward to hanging out with them. I can bring you there if you want."

"No," she answered quickly, leading the way out of my office.

The silence as we traveled to the parking lot spoke volumes. She paused at the bottom of the steps, biting her lips as though she were thinking hard.

"I can drive."

She nodded, making her way to the passenger side of the truck. I beat her to the door, helping her inside. Once she was sitting and buckled, I set my hand on her thigh, causing her eyes to dart to mine. She looked terrified.

"I have no expectations for tonight. Okay?" I ran my hands against her smooth skin, wanting her to believe my intentions were sincere.

Her shoulders sagged and her hand found my jaw. "I know. Thank you."

I clipped her thumb with my mouth, giving it a chaste kiss. She blushed, and I loved it.

I climbed into the drivers seat and put on my sunglasses. "I'll grab a pizza if that's what you were looking forward to on the way to my place."

"Okay." Her blonde locks whipped in the ocean air. Those blue eyes were pulling me in, bringing me to the place in my soul that I thought I'd never find. I reached for her hand, locking our fingers together as we drove.

"You should probably call YaYa, too."

"Marcy told her we were staying at her cousin's tonight in town."

I nodded in approval. I didn't realize Marcy had cousin's still living nearby. Most of them disappeared before they were ten from The Shore. YaYa was the only permanent fixture from the Contrares family still located on the beach.

"I don't have to stay all night if you don't want me too," she squeaked, flexing her fingers in my grasp.

I glanced at her. She was still anxious. I'd never hurt her, she had to understand that. "I can sleep on the couch while you take my bed."

She smiled and squeezed our entwined hands. "That hard exterior is all a ploy, isn't it?"

My brows furrowed underneath my sunglasses. "What do you mean?"

She laughed. "Do you not know how scary you look most of the time?"

"Do I scare you?"

She paused for a moment, the silence creating tension in my muscles.

"Not anymore."

I glanced at her again, pulling our laced hands to my mouth so I could kiss her sweet skin. She giggled at my repeated pecks, then relaxed into her seat. A happy sigh escaped my lips, knowing tonight was going to be epic, no matter what the outcome would be.

***

"This is your place?" she asked as we pulled into my driveway along the beach.

It was about twenty minutes down the opposite side of the strip, not a tourist in site. The only noise was from the ocean, and it was serenity. I didn't get to stay here as much as I liked, but it was my sanctuary. The view of the sunset over the water was stunning, and the swells were perfect for kite surfing.

"It's not much, but it's home."

Lauren hopped out of the truck, grinning from ear to ear. "Vance, this is perfect. I'd never leave if I lived here!"

I couldn't contain my grin. "You might change your mind when you come inside."

She turned to me with a sad smile. "You have no idea where I live."

My smile faded. The only reason my mother and I lived in a nice place was because we had maids and housekeepers. Surely my drug addict mother wouldn't have been able to upkeep a house. I imagined Lauren did what she could to stay tidy, but a young girl could only do so much on her own.

Carrying my bag and the pizza, I led her into my space. The front porch had a few wicker chairs that matched the weathered railing. Sand tracked in from our sandals. I stomped them on the faded doormat that at one point had the words welcome written across it, but was no longer visible. "Don't have high hopes."

Opening the door with my free hand, I motioned for Lauren to come inside. Her eyes took in the tiny space. A brown sectional couch took up the majority of the living room, a flat screen TV against the far wall. The walls weren't painted any color but white. Kicking my sandals to the side, I padded across the cool grayish tile, my bare feet catching a few spots of sand on my way. I could never keep the floor completely free of it.

"This is... homey," she said sweetly, following me into the kitchen of white cabinets and gray countertops.

"It is," I agreed, searching for paper plates. "I'm not sure if I have anything besides beer in the fridge, but you're welcome to whatever."

She nodded, opening the fridge and grabbing two beers. I swapped a plate for a beer, watching her try to open the top. She didn't realize she needed a bottle opener. I reached around her to the drawer, noticing her steady inhale of breath from the brush of my arm. "You might need this," I murmured into her ear, closing the drawer then taking a step back, grabbing her bottle and opening it for her.

She blushed, not meeting my eyes. "Right. I'm not much of a beer drinker."

I opened mine and took a swig. "I'd never guess that," I joked. "It's an acquired taste."

She shrugged, taking a small sip. I laughed when her nose crinkled after barely drinking any. "I'll finish it if you can't."

Her eyes widened slightly. "I'll finish it, don't worry." She cowered away from me to the small kitchen table, holding the beer to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself in the way she did for comfort.

Her change in mood concerned me. "Does it make you nervous when I drink?"

When she didn't respond, I knew the answer was yes.

Skirting around the kitchen counter to where she was sitting at the table, I snatched the beer bottle from her, then proceeded to the sink, dumping both drinks down the drain. I didn't need to drink alcohol. Especially not with Lauren. She calmed me with her presence alone.

"You didn't have to do that," she whispered, her eyes focused on the beechwood of the table. "I need to stop comparing you to other men. I know you would never hurt me."

Tossing the empty bottles in the trash, I grabbed the pizza box and plates, setting them on the table and sitting next to her. "I'm glad you're comfortable with me." Although, I wasn't sure if I believed her. Deep down, she wanted to believe herself, but by how skittish she still was, I knew we had a few hurdles to cross if this would ever become something more.

I frowned inwardly. I shouldn't dwell on the idea of us growing. I wanted it badly, but knew I had to sell my soul to have her. The price was well worth it.

Reaching for the cheese pizza, I needed a distraction from my thoughts. I needed to mentally prep for the next few weeks. There were so many arrangements that needed to be made yet. I had everything set to keep Lauren busy, but Abby wasn't a done deal yet for the Cage. I needed to plot it out perfectly so she wouldn't get hurt. At least not hurt too bad. She'd get drugged unfortunately, but that was something I was going to have to live with if I wanted to protect Lauren.

"Hey," Lauren rubbed my forearm. "You look stressed. Are you worried about your business trip?"

Her sincerity made my stomach tighten. She didn't deserve to be lied to. I felt like such an asshole as her baby blues tried to console me. "I don't like being away from the shop for so long."

Her hand kept a steady pace massaging my forearm. "It's in good hands. I promise it won't burn down. I've enjoyed working there the past few weeks."

My lip quirked into a soft smile. She was good with customers and always did everything I asked. She'd make a great manager.

But the store wasn't profitable. It would have closed a long time ago if it weren't a cover spot for Marcus's meetings.

"I know. Maybe I'm just jealous of Colt and Tucker."

Her brows furrowed and her hand stilled on my arm. "Why would you be jealous?"

"Because those two assholes will get to see you when I won't be able to."

She blushed, and I couldn't contain the grin on my face. I pulled her from her seat, rearranging myself so she could sit on my lap. She cuddled into me. This was what I needed tonight. To hold her in my arms, touch her smooth skin. I couldn't stop my hand from running a path from her knee to her thigh, skirting underneath the edge of her jean shorts. She only squirmed slightly when I touched her, but relaxed when I peppered kisses along her neck.

"I might be bad at this," she sighed, tilting her neck to give me easier access. I knew what she was insinuating. My innocent girl worried she wouldn't please me.

"That's not possible," I murmured into her skin, opening my mouth wider for my tongue to graze her shoulder. She shuddered, goose bumps forming on her leg underneath my hand.

Stopping me, she cradled my jaw with both hands, big saucers for eyes staring at me. "I mean it, Vance. I have no idea what I'm doing."

I couldn't contain my hands from sliding underneath her tank top, running up her slim hips and toned stomach. "Listen to your body. What does it want right now?"

Her eyes closed as my hands skimmed higher, pulling her tank top with them. Dropping her hands from my jaw, she arched her back and let her head fall backward.

Instantly, my eyes were drawn to her stomach. She was tanned and toned, a body meant for the beach. I'd never seen her show her stomach, and I was instantly jealous of Colt who had sat on the beach with her in her bathing suit. My fingers circled her navel and across her stomach from hip to hip, causing her to suck in a breath.

The urge to lay her on my bed and explore her body more in depth took over. I stood from my chair, picking her up in one swift motion.

"Where are we going?" she giggled, her arms clutching my neck.

Carrying her down the short hallway past the bathroom, I set her on two feet inside of my bedroom. The furniture was the only part of this house that matched. All black, even the headboard of the queen-sized bed shared the same modern feel as the dresser and end tables.

I watched her reaction as she took in the space, her chest rising and falling at a faster rate than normal.

"This isn't what I was expecting," she breathed as I reached for her waist.

"What? Did you think I slept on a mattress with a sleeping bag?" I chuckled, running my nose along her neck. "The furniture in here was my mother's. It's all I have left of hers."

She nodded, her hands finding my shoulders. "I think she might disapprove of me being in here," her breath was raspy.

I only smirked at her. "I think she'd love you."

Her eye softened. "I wish I could have met her."

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. Pushing away emotions that were buried deep in the depths of my soul, I planted my lips on Lauren's. Kissing her with the tenderness that she deserved. I would savor every inch of her tonight, exploring wherever she would let me.

Her mouth opened instantly for me, her hands raking underneath my shirt. Here we were, no one to interrupt us, a big bed, the setting sun on the horizon of the ocean in perfect view from the sliding door. We were surrounded by what made us comfortable, and I was bound and determined to make tonight perfect for Lauren.

Because that's what she deserved.

I continued kissing her, enjoying the feel of her skin underneath my palms. She matched my movements, pulling my t-shirt off, but in more of a frenzy. The timid, small town girl was slowly fading. She was more ready for this than she led on. I'd still be cautious with her.

Slowing her down some, I pulled my mouth from hers, holding her face with my hands. I gazed into her lust-filled eyes. The fear of a man's touch was nowhere to be found. Without taking her eyes away from mine, her hands ran the length of my chest and stomach, exploring my body as she had let my hands do to her on the beach. The tremble in her hand was humbling, but the more she explored, the bolder they became. So bold as to reach for the button of my shorts. I kept my eyes locked with hers, my thumbs still grazing her cheeks.

"Promise you'll tell me if I'm doing something wrong?" she asked, her eyes crinkling with concern.

Smoothing out the worry lines from her forehead with my thumbs, I nodded, careful to keep my expression soft and affectionate. She had no reason to feel embarrassed by her purity.

Gulping, her eyes went hooded as she unzipped my shorts, brushing my cock in the process.

If I weren't fully hard before, I was now. He'd been begging for any interaction from Lauren since catching a glimpse of her ass in the little shorts she always wore.

She inhaled sharply, gently running her fingers along the hard length over the top of my boxers. I couldn't control the hiss that escaped through my mouth. She was going to kill me at this pace. Kissing her forehead, I stepped toward her, forcing her palm to press completely against my dick. She applied more pressure, her hand becoming braver with each stroke. Moving my hands from her face to her back, I kissed down her neck and shoulder, trying to contain my desire from throwing her on the bed and ripping the rest of her clothes off in a passionate rush.

Her once bold hand began to tremble again as it moved from stroking outside of my boxers to dipping inside, playing with the waistband. I groaned into her skin, nipping her shoulder and pressing my fingertips firmer into her shoulder blades. The anticipation of her hand curling around my cock was driving me wild.

"You don't have to," I whispered against her ear, praying she wouldn't listen to me. Her pulse quickened on her neck as I traced it with my tongue. Ever so slowly, and a touch awkwardly, she slid her hand under the elastic, touching the sensitive skin of my shaft, then gripping it entirely in one firm grasp of her fist.

My grunt of approval didn't go unnoticed. "Did I hurt you?"

"Hell no," I rasped. "It feels amazing." Do what you want, beautiful. I'm all yours.

She slowly moved her hand up and down, watching my face intently. The paranoia she had toward doing something wrong needed to vanish.

Along with her clothing.

Unlatching the clasp to her bra, I was eager to see her perfect breasts. She paused long enough from stroking my cock to let the white lace drop from her body.

Stepping back, I gazed at her, unable to contain myself from staring. She didn't cover herself like I assumed she would, and that made her all the more sexy. So sexy that I fell to my knees, pulling her to me. My mouth grazed her abdomen, licking and sucking just above her shorts. Her stomach flexed whenever I'd dip my tongue into her navel.

Matching my thoughts, my hands stroked her calves and her thighs, gallantly grabbing her ass and pulling her body into me. Her fingers ran through my hair as I worshipped her like the goddess she was.

Running the pads of my fingers from her perfect behind back to her stomach, I found the button of her shorts, my eyes searching her face for permission. She watched me with a gaping mouth, her chest rising and falling with intensity. Kissing her pelvis gently, I unfastened the button, carefully watching her reaction, making sure she was okay with my every action. My gaze went back to her shorts and panties, gently pulling them down her legs, urging her to step out of them. She was standing in front of me completely bare, and my mouth went dry.

"You are so beautiful," I rasped, my mouth finding the top of each thigh, giving open-mouthed kisses. She giggled softly from my proclamation, never moving her hands from my hair.

"Even with my tan lines?"

I smiled into her skin, tracing her hip bone where the darker skin faded to light. "You can work on them while I'm gone."

She arched a brow. "With Colt and Marcy?"

I stood and clasped her in my arms. "Not with out a bathing suit," I growled, claiming her mouth with mine. My tongue delved into her mouth, licking and searching with a fierceness I couldn't control. She eagerly tasted my mouth as well, her hands grasping my hair in a painful yet pleasurable way.

Taking the back of her thighs in my hands, I lifted her onto the bed, scooting her until she was lying flat on her back underneath me. Right where she belonged.

Releasing her mouth, I sat back on my knees, spreading her legs around my hips. A shiver ran through her body in anticipation. She was open to me in the most vulnerable way, letting me appreciate her naked body.

My hand covered her mound. "Can I kiss you here?"

She inhaled a sharp breath, then swallowed, giving me a quick nod.

Grinning, I scooted down the bed to kiss the insides of each trembling thigh. She was as smooth as can be, something I wasn't expecting from a virgin.

Virgin. A shudder ran through me as I kissed my way to her core, knowing she trusted me enough to give her body away to me.

She squirmed the moment my tongue pressed between her folds, searching upward to find her clit. Fuck, she was soaked, and tasted deliciously sweet. I groaned into her shivering core, grabbing her thigh and hiking it over my shoulder. Her breathing patterns changed as I dipped my tongue from her clit to her entrance, back and forth at a slow and steady pace, guiding me to which area was more sensitive.

"Vance," she groaned, her hips thrusting into my mouth when my tongue delved into her sex. The way my name sounded coming from her precious lips made my tongue push in and out faster, wanting to hear my name louder.

She was perched on her elbows, her back arched and her head tilted toward the ceiling. Her tits rose and fell perfectly with her unstable breathing. These feelings were still new to her, and I was ready to help her embrace them.

Moving my tongue from her entrance, I slid it back to her clit, circling slowly. Inching my finger from her thigh to her core, I spread her wet folds, gently pressing into her tight hole with my finger. She moaned louder, her legs beginning to shake uncontrollably.

My cock was throbbing now, demanding to be swallowed and surrounded by the taut center my finger was currently placed inside. She was warm and wet, soft and inviting, but unbelievably snug. I had to control my movements, be cautious not to make it more uncomfortable than pleasurable.

Keeping a steady circling motion around her clit with my tongue, I added another finger, and she writhed against my hand, clearly accepting the intrusion yet adjusting to the foreign sensation. I let her move her hips on my hand, needing to know she was ready for me to move my fingers in and out. I matched her rhythm with my hand, mimicking the same speed with my tongue.

More warmth surrounded my fingers as I rubbed the soft, ribbed texture of her front wall, and I knew by the low whimpers escaping her mouth and the convulsion of her muscles she was on the brink of exploding. Her hands gripped the sheets, her stomach clenching at a fast pace. I pressed my tongue flat on her nub now, milking it with my mouth, rubbing my finger furiously inside of her.

Then she came, long, hard, and loud, my name a prayer from her lips. Her body was shaking with euphoria, and I could only watch in awe, my cock tempted to pulse and explode along with her from merely watching.

Her hands were searching for me, grabbing at my shoulders, needing me to be close to her. Gently removing my hand from her clenching core, I climbed up her body, kissing her forehead, still mesmerized by her exquisite face.

Her breathing calmed, licking her lips, she opened her eyes to meet mine. I was still gazing at her, running my hand through her hair. Her face was flushed, yet a satisfied smirk was plastered to her mouth.

"Hi." She grinned.

I met her grin, giving her a chaste kiss. My hand moved from her hair, pressing against her beating heart. Her pulse matched mine, drumming in perfect unison. She was softening me into an actual human, not the destructive demon I was born and created to be.

Chapter Eighteen

Lauren

He did it to me again.

The new, incredible feelings were helping to ease my troubled mind. Maybe they were a distraction from making decisions in life, but I didn't care. The desire that bloomed inside of me for Vance was the finest diversion I could be troubled with.

But I wasn't troubled, I wasn't fighting the urge to be drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame, I graciously complied, not asking questions or guarding my heart. He was worth the risk.

His eyes were passing over my face. They weren't curious or probing, only gentleness was exuding from them. My hand reached for his jaw, stroking the day-old stubble. What was I supposed to say after he opened my eyes to such a mind-blowing experience? Instead of talking, I pulled him to me, wanting to kiss him, show him my gratitude. He was soft with his lips, not expecting me to greet him with my tongue. The slowest in and out of his tongue between my lips, stroking against mine, was divine. The taste of my arousal didn't even faze me. After the first few licks into his mouth, I only tasted Vance.

A calloused hand ran down my chest and between my breasts, grazing over to one, tickling my nipple with his fingertips as he kept kissing me. _Was he ready for more?_ Of course, he was! I wanted to further explore his lower half, and finally felt the impending courage from my new wanton state of mind.

Dragging my nail down his sternum and to his abdomen, I reached into his boxers, grasping his length with confidence. He hissed between his teeth, his hold around my breast becoming firmer. I craved the rough texture of his touch on my soft skin. I was becoming energized again, the passion building like it had the very first time he laid his hands on me. Keeping my grip steady I moved at a faster pace, eager to feel the blood thumping through his cock and into my hand. He was solid as steel yet smooth like velvet, and my core ached to be filled with him.

Releasing him from my grasp, I went for his shorts, tugging on them. I wanted his clothing crumbled to the floor in a pile with mine. It didn't take long for him to understand, removing his shorts and pulling his boxers completely off.

He was on his knees now, staring down at me as I laid on my side. I caressed his muscular thigh, grabbing his cock again. It was a brand new toy, something that once terrified me was now fascinating. Seeing it in the light for the first time made my heart quicken. I'd never seen a man so up close, never wanted one to come near me. All of the negative experiences I witnessed between my mother and the drug dealers vanished. It was only Vance and I, naked in his bed, ready to dive into more uncharted territory.

Vance smirked at me as I stroked him from root to tip. "Roll on your back, sweetheart," he whispered.

I did as he asked, keeping a firm grasp with my palm as he nestled his knees between my hips. His elbows were on either side of my head now, his strong thighs hovering over my entrance. I had the control to touch the tip of his cock and run it between my legs. I quivered at the thought, my legs twitching in anticipation.

"You're perfect," he murmured against my lips, enclosing my bottom lip between his. I inhaled a deep breath, my eyes fluttering closed against his cheeks. I sighed, then took a deep breath, moving his hips down to press against mine. I moved my hand, resting it on his lower back and let his cock settle between my folds. His hips were pressing ever so gently, wanting friction, but waiting for me to give him the final okay.

"I don't have a condom," he murmured against my ear, his hips still moving slowly. "And I assume you're not on the pill."

My lips trembled. "I am." It was the one thing my mother kept stashed in our house, forced me to take daily since I turned thirteen. I guess that's how old she was when a man had first had his way with her.

He pulled his head back, searching my face. "You still okay if we don't use anything else?"

I swallowed, nodding my head. "Yes. I trust you." I wanted to be as physically close to him as possible.

Both my hands found his lower back, waiting for him to make the final push inside of me. His hips swiveled, finding my entrance. He was right there, only needing to nudge himself inside. I held my breath, my palms digging into his skin. _Yes._ My conscience chanted, eager as ever to lose my virginity.

With the gentleness I desired, he eased himself inside a few inches, taking my breath away. Noticing my need to get used to his size, he slowly backed out, then entered at the same steady speed, milking me a few more inches each time.

I bit down on my bottom lip, loving the slow burn that mingled into delicious pleasure.

"You okay?" Vance rasped against my cheek. The tension in his shoulders and arms proved he was holding in his restraint, wanting to go slow and make sure I was comfortable.

I was beyond comfortable. I was on fire, and wanting all of him.

My hand found the back of his neck, twirling my fingers between the short dark locks on the nape of his neck. "Yes. It feels... _perfect_."

A deep rumble emerged from his throat at the sound of my voice, and his hips drove deeper, completely filling me. I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist for leverage as he moved more steadily. Dipping his head into the crook of my neck, he continued his rhythm, nipping at my sensitive skin between thrusts.

The burn completely disappeared, and the only coherent thought that ran through my brain was Vance. How his touch healed me from the start, numbing all the confusion and pain from my past. How a simple smile made me melt, reminding me that happiness was still an option, that sadness wasn't a permanent fixture. How he made me feel something worth fighting for.

"Vance..." I whispered against his ear. "You're _perfect_."

Goose bumps ran down his spine along with my nails. His body pistoned faster, slamming into me, his mouth covering mine. He rotated his hips, holding his cock deep inside of my core. His movement was steady and unhurried, causing the ache low in my belly to creep back to the surface. Straightening his arms and coming up onto his palms, he looked where we were connected, watching our hips mesh together as he gyrated against me.

My hands held onto his biceps, my legs falling from around his hips. Driving my feet into the mattress, I matched his motion, wanting to cure the once tingle, now throb, begging for release.

Both our breathing increased, hot and heavy as I pushed up and down into his movements, watching his thick cock move in and out of my tight core. My center clenched, not wanting him to move, and Vance grunted, keeping his hips steady while I arched my back, moving up into him.

Sweat beaded his forehead, his eyes squinting closed as he focused to let me control the movement from underneath him. Both my hands grabbed his hips, moving him down on top of me, not wanting any more space between us. Our chests were tightly pressed together. I palmed his ass cheek, urging him to move. I was so close, grinding my mound into his pelvis while his cock thrust deeper inside of me.

He claimed my mouth with his. The steadiness of his thrusts became more impatient, moving faster, matching his hot breath against my lips. The speed was throwing me, building me up to shake my core, exploding my entire body into bliss.

Short, quick breaths released from my mouth as I chased the impending feeling, the desire poking my orgasm to the surface. With one last perfect stroke, my walls tightened in pleasure, squeezing his cock while I came, his name falling from my lips in a fast rush.

He groaned, pumping into me, then filling me with his seed. My virginity was starved for him, milking his cock for all he had to give me. I never wanted him to leave, never wanted this high to go away.

His body slumped on top of mine, the heavy weight a welcomed presence instead of a hindrance. He felt perfect pressed against me and still filling me. We were molded together, and the bond we'd just created was one I'd do anything to keep.

Vance nuzzled my neck, inhaling as though he were scenting me. His nose ran along my jaw and back to the shell of my ear while his arms wrapped underneath me, rolling me to my side and intertwining our legs together. We were a perfect cocoon, wrapped around each other and still connected.

With the setting sun touching my back, I felt at peace, drifting to sleep in Vance's strong arms. He made me feel safe and protected, a feeling I craved for an endless number of times.

Chapter Nineteen

Vance

She looked absolutely beautiful. Her naked body curled against mine. My cock was half hard, resting against her thigh. My arms were locked around her waist, enjoying the softness of her tanned skin. I couldn't contain my lips from grazing her shoulders, neck, jaw... any part of her body they could reach, they tasted, branding her as mine.

She was so tight when I broke through her virginity that I thought I would come from the first thrust, but I held my own, controlling the urge to ram into her. She wanted me, it was obvious how her inexperienced body reacted. Her ankles locking around my hips and her pelvis meeting mine proved she was more than ready.

Yet, it was so much more than I thought it would be. If anything, I thought the connection would fizzle some once I'd claim her. No, my heart was pounding, pushing feelings I'd never felt before throughout my entire body.

The sunset was beautiful seeping through the window. Reds and oranges mixing together against the ocean waves. They grew in size, and any other night I'd be grabbing my kite and heading to the beach, but leaving Lauren wasn't happening. She was cozy in my arms, and there wasn't any other place I wanted to be. Not even on my board, soaring through the sky, the wind controlling my destiny.

That meant something.

This girl was getting higher up on my priority list, right there with the ocean. The need to keep her safe and far away from Marcus constantly blinked at me like an alarm, reminding me of the urgency and danger that came along with keeping her involved.

Her breathing became steady, a sign she'd fallen asleep. I wasn't surprised. It was her first time. Of course, she was exhausted.

As gently as I could, I wiggled my way from her hold and out of the bed. Covering her with a sheet, I walked to the bathroom. Maybe while she slept, I could figure out a plan to get Abby to the Cage as safely as possible.

After using the bathroom and throwing on my shorts, I gave Lauren a quick kiss to the forehead. She didn't stir, and it made me smile. Maybe I had a big ego, but I loved exhausting a woman from orgasms.

Pulling out my laptop, I made my way to the couch to begin brainstorming. Before sitting down, the front window caught my eye. Storm clouds were rolling in, lightning touching down in the distance. It was amazing how the ocean was calm and beautiful with a sunset, while the other side of the house was angry and raging. Watching the puffy clouds of the oncoming storm soon vanished from another sight off in the distance.

My chest tightened as my throat dried. I rubbed my eyes, willing for the vision to blur back into dark skies and random flashes of lightning. Instead, I only saw headlights, glowing brighter the closer they came to my solace.

Setting my laptop on the couch, I slid on my sandals, holding one hand on the doorknob to the front porch. The black SUV was close enough for me to see the sand blow from the shiny rimmed tires running through it as he approached.

Clenching my fist, I turned the knob, stepping onto the porch where the wind began to blow the tall grasses and sand. The rain hadn't started yet, but I was sure a full-blown downpour would start the moment Marcus stepped out of the SUV.

I was out of time, and needed to think quickly on my feet. Did he know I had Lauren? Was he planning on taking her from me before I could replace her with another girl?

Fuck him. He wouldn't touch her. I'd beat his ass if he tried to step foot in my small house that offered me the most amount of happiness I'd had in my life. Especially since the woman of my dreams was sleeping soundly in my bed.

My heart raced faster as he pulled into the cracked concrete driveway. Crossing my arms and widening my stance, I watched his driver step out first, then a bodyguard from the passenger's seat. Then, to my surprise, another bodyguard hopped out the back seat. My face remained neutral, although my insides began to quake. He never had more than one bodyguard with him.

Sweat beaded on my neck as I swallowed the lump in my throat. A million scenarios were running through my head. Everything from my twisting his neck with my own two hands, to his bodyguard beating the shit out of me while Marcus carried my naked, sleeping Lauren to his SUV.

I resisted pacing. I wanted to look strong and confident, not nervous and ill-prepared.

As I inhaled a deep breath, a loud boom of thunder shook the ground, and Marcus's shiny black shoes stepped from the SUV. His face was expressionless when it came into view. His eyes were covered by black sunglasses, completely unnecessary from the setting sun and the impending storm.

I swallowed one last time, clenching my jaw as he approached with his bodyguards behind him.

His straight face turned into a smug smile as he stood on the bottom step of the porch looking up at me. Removing his glasses, he tucked them inside his coat pocket. Our matching eyes stared each other down, mentally predicting what each other were thinking. Both his bodyguards climbed up the steps, bypassing the middle because their strides were so long. I didn't flinch when they passed by me, one ready to grab each arm if I didn't cooperate.

Marcus took the few steps to the top of the deck. We were now face to face. My shirtless, tense body against his finely pressed black suit.

His smug grin vanished, and his jaw tightened. The crinkles on the sides of his eyes deepened as he studied me. Cocking his head to the side, he finally opened his mouth.

"Where's my Dove?"

Continue The Riptide Series with:

RESIST: Book Two
For more information on how to stop Human Trafficking:

 POLARIS: National Human Trafficking Hotline

" _Human trafficking is a form of modern slavery-a multi-billion dollar criminal industry that denies freedom to 20.9 million people around the world. And no matter where you live, chances are it's happening nearby. From the girl forced into prostitution at a truck stop, to the man discovered in a restaurant kitchen, stripped of his passport and held against his will. All trafficking victims share one essential experience: the loss of freedom."_

\- Polaris:National Human Trafficking Hotline

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I never would have finished this book if it weren't for my husband. All of the nights he allowed for me to escape to the coffee shop and write until they closed were what made this book possible. I'll love you forever, baby.

To my supportive parents and children for cheering me on and keeping me focused.

To my bestie Amanda, who'd listen to my crazy ideas, helping to guide me in the direction I knew I wanted, but needed clarification.

Thanks to my amazing editor Erin Noelle, for putting up with my repetative words and scattered thoughts, keeping my plot in line and organized.

And of course, my family at Vaskobooks, for putting all of the pieces together to release The Riptide Series. I will be forever grateful for your faith in me as an author.

Connect with Brooke:

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email: authorbrookepage@gmail.com

Books By Brooke Page

Conklin's Trilogy:

Drawn to You (#1)

Molded For You (#2)

Bound With You (#3)

Forever With You (#3.5)

Obsession Trilogy:

Obsession (#1)

Hide (#2)

Seek (#3)

Steamy Hot Shots:

Wicked Wedding

Craving The Cowboy

Dangerous Lies

Bad Boss

A Very Bad Boss Christmas

