Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 Read online

  A. M. Hargrove

  Copyright © 2014 A.M. Hargrove

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

  Cover photo by Scott Hoover of Scott Hoover Photography

  Cover model: Hollis Chambers

  Acknowledgements

  I don’t know if I would still be doing this crazy writing thing if I hadn’t met this great group of beta readers. Not only do they critique my work, but they are also my wonderful friends and stick by my side through all my rants and raves, pull me out of the mud when I’m thigh deep and can’t seem to trudge my way out of a scene. So here’s to you all of you who are my right hands, and here’s to all our laughs (hard laughs at that) during our chats, emails, voxes, phone calls or what-have-yous. I love you all to pieces!

  Thank you to Terri Thomas, Kathryn Grimes, Andrea Stafford, Kristie Wittenberg, Heather Carver, Candace Selph, Megan Bagley, for being my eyes, ears, heart, and soul in Freeing Her and Freeing Him. And I’d like to extend a special thanks to my horse expert, Hetty Rasmussen for helping me with the scenes with Storm. Without Hetty, those scenes would’ve sucked because I know nothing about those lovely creatures. Oh, and I’d be remiss in not thanking Hetty for helping me with all the teasers she continually supplies for me.

  I can’t release a book with thanking Annie’s Fan-Attics! I love hanging out with you ladies. I’m sorry this year has been a crazy train, but you have been a major part of my book adventure so I’m sending out my heart-felt gratitude to you!

  Finally, my family deserves a huge thanks. And I’m proud and excited to say we’ve grown by one this past summer, with the addition of a daughter-in-law. Thank you for having the patience to put up with me during my long hours right before a new release.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Other Books By This Author

  Excerpt from Tragic Desires

  Freeing Him

  A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2

  PROLOGUE

  Kolson

  “Mommy! Mommy! I’m scared. Where are you?” Dark. It’s so dark. I can’t see anything and my throat hurts so bad. I want my mommy. But she won’t answer me. Why won’t she come? She always comes when I call her at night. But she doesn’t come this time. And I keep calling her. My Spiderman pajamas are wet and I want my blankie because I’m cold. My teeth make a clicking noise because they keep chattering and they won’t stop. I have to pee again and I don’t know where the potty is. I’ve already wet myself once and I don’t want to do it again. Mommy will be mad at me and I don’t want to ruin my Spiderman pajamas. Maybe if I roll up in a ball I’ll be warmer. After a while it doesn’t help much, so I call for Mommy some more. But she still doesn’t come.

  There’s a noise somewhere and I lift my head. I think I was sleeping. “Mommy, is that you? Mommy!” I sit up and it’s still so dark out. I want to see my Spiderman pajamas so I hold my arm in front of my face but it’s too dark to see anything. I scream. And scream so long my throat hurts. And I cry. “Mommy! I want my mommy!” I curl up, knees to chest, and rock back and forth, crying for Mommy. But she never comes.

  Something scrapes in front of me. Is it a monster? I think there’s a monster in here and I scream.

  “Shut up. Stop that screaming or I’ll leave.”

  I can’t stop screaming. I try but they keep coming out of me, even though I don’t want them to. Something covers my mouth, and a mean man tells me if I don’t shut up, I’ll have to stay in the dark forever. His voice scares me more than the dark. More than not having my mommy. My body shakes and suddenly my voice is gone. I can’t talk.

  “That’s better. Now listen. This is your new home and the sooner you learn some manners, the better it will be. Behave, and your life will be easy. Obey me, and you’ll be given treats. Disobey, and you’ll be left here alone. Do you understand me?”

  The mean man says things to me but I don’t know what they mean. I only sit and try to see him. But I only see the dark.

  “Good. Now eat this.”

  Something is pushed into my mouth. I can’t eat it because my throat hurts so bad. I start to choke. Then I vomit.

  The mean man yells and he wipes my face. It’s so dark, I can’t see him.

  “Drink.”

  He shoves a straw in my mouth and I drink. When I do, it burns my throat and I cry.

  “More.”

  I drink more but it hurts. My face is wet from crying.

  “Good.”

  Then I hear the scraping sound and it’s quiet again. And I curl up and cry. I want my mommy. I want her to sing to me and rub my back like she does when my head hurts. I want her to kiss me and tell me a story. I want to tell her I didn’t mean it when I did those bad things and didn’t listen to her. Maybe that’s why she’s not here now. I’m sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean it. I’ll be good. Come back, Mommy.

  It’s often said that an addict has to hit rock bottom before they can begin their journey to recovery. My story is much different. Surprisingly enough, I’m not an addict and never have been. But I’ve been at the bottom. More than once. I hit it the first time when I was only seven years old. Not only was it the bottom. It was hell. It’s when I learned to lick the fiery flames of the devil himself. Only my devil was a dragon. Also known as my father. What I didn’t realize was that time was only a dip in the barrel compared to what would happen to me later.

  The first time I thought he broke me but I didn’t know how wrong I was. It wasn’t until later that I realized what kind of destruction he could spawn. And that time I didn’t only break, he took me apart piece by piece, until there was nothing left to crush.

  William Shakespeare wrote, “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” Well, for years I was wronged. And now I plan to seek revenge. Carefully, slowly,
and methodically. And when the time is right, I will strike with everything I have.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kolson

  The trees speed by in a blur as I take the curve with greater speed than I should. I need to slow down. But my mood doesn’t allow for that. Downshifting, I give her all she can handle as she hugs the road, engine purring. The gasp pulls me out of my fantasy race mode and I ease up on the accelerator slightly.

  “Sorry. Sometimes I can’t help myself when I get on these two-lane roads.”

  “Is that really all it is?”

  “Of course. And don’t start again, kea. Besides, haven’t I ever confessed my secret to you? I’ve always had a deep desire to be a race car driver.”

  “Oh, really? Like this Lamborghini didn’t give that away.” She harrumphs, and I’d like to take a look at her face but I don’t dare take my eyes off the road.

  Laughter rumbles in my chest and I can feel her eyes boring into me, trying to uncover what’s in my head. That’s the trouble when your lover is a psychiatrist.

  “Cut it out. Now.”

  “What?” Innocence drips off her with that single word, but I know damn well she gets me.

  “Enjoy the ride, the scenery. It’s not often we get out of the city like this.”

  “I’d rather enjoy another kind of ride.”

  My mouth curves with her comment. “Oh, don’t worry. I have plans for you, gorgeous. Tall plans.”

  “Oh?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Kolson, what kind of plans?”

  “You’ll see.” Throwing her off my inner turmoil is my goal. The last thing I want is for her to see through my façade. My gut is about to go haywire. The Dragon’s Lair. That’s where we’re headed and it’s the last place on earth I would choose to go. But I don’t have a choice. Only Gabriella doesn’t know that and my plan is to keep it that way.

  “So?”

  “So what?” Her question confuses me.

  “How do you like your new baby?”

  My grin has to give her the answer. “I love it.”

  “I wouldn’t have known by the way your knuckles look like they’re going to pop through the skin on your hands. Death grip much?”

  I quickly glance down and damn if she isn’t right.

  “Wanna explain that? Either you think that steering wheel is going to try and run away, or you’re about to freak out over this little visit to your dad’s. Kolson, you’ve avoided this for the last two weeks. You’ve danced around this every time I’ve asked and this is the end of the line. You know I won’t tolerate lying. I want the truth. And I want it before we get there.”

  “Damn it, Gabriella. Can we not just go and spend one goddamn night and forget it?”

  “No! Because that’s not how it’ll work. Pull the car over. Now, please.”

  Her obstinacy is the last thing I need to deal with. I have enough on my plate with the dragon himself and this overnight trip. I don’t need her poking into things. My foot lowers the pedal to the floor and the engine roars to life, even more than before.

  “Kolson, I’m warning you. Pull. This. Goddamn. Car. Over. Now!”

  We’ve been together for several months. I’ve seen this woman go through hell and back but never has she spoken to me in that tone, not even when I treated her like shit after our last visit here.

  I spot a place ahead where I can pull off and as soon as the car comes to a stop, the passenger door flies open. One thing about Gabriella is when she’s angry, her caramel-colored eyes shoot sparks of fire. I swear to God, they look like they turn into bottle rockets exploding on the Fourth of July.

  Chestnut waves fan around her as she wears a path next to the car. I’m in for one hell of an argument. My brain works through every possible excuse as I get out of the car.

  “When? When are you going to tell me?”

  My hands reach for her shoulders, but she flings them away with her arms. “Don’t touch me,” she fumes. “Remember? Honesty. That’s the one thing I’ve asked from you. Really, it’s the only thing I’ve ever asked, Kolson. Now answer me. When are you going to tell me?”

  I turn away from her but her voice halts me.

  “Don’t you dare do that. I want you to look me in the eye when you answer.”

  This shouldn’t be a problem for me because I am a master at masking my emotions. Or at least I used to be. Before Gabriella. Things are different with her.

  I turn to face her and my hand automatically moves to my hair. The tension on her face, the lines soften when she sees this. I blow out a breath. “Kea, it’s difficult to explain and I’m not sure you want to hear it anyway.” My voice is low and sounds off, even to me. My gut feels like an army of hornets has been unleashed inside and is making its way up my esophagus. I’ve been this way ever since I made my deal with the dragon. His fire already burns me and my war with him hasn’t even begun.

  Her hand fists my shirt and she pleads, “Why can’t you tell me?”

  “Because it could destroy you. I can’t take that risk. Ever. Can you please drop it? When the time is right, I will tell you. But not now. Not today.” Maybe it’s the tone of my voice. Or the way I beg her with my eyes. But she nods, and then presses into my chest, wraps me in her arms, and holds me.

  “You’re the most important thing in the world to me, Kolson. So if you can’t tell me, then I trust you. But Jesus, I’m getting tired of you not telling me things.”

  I inhale and savor her sweetness. She doesn’t know that what we have between us can’t last forever. The dragon knows she’s my weakness and he’ll find a way to destroy it. But until that time comes, I’ll cherish each second with her. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “I know. And I’m sorry.” I hold her for a moment longer. “Shall we go?” We get back in the car and resume the drive to my parents’ home.

  We arrive at the long winding drive that leads to their sprawling Greek revival mansion. Every time I look at the place, it reminds me how typical Langston it is, from the sheer size of the thing to the ostentatiousness of it that I want to stop the car and immediately turn around and leave. We pull up to the front and we’re greeted by one of their many employees trying to please us in every way possible. All I want to do is tell him to rest easy and that we can manage on our own. Instead, I keep my mouth shut as he ushers us to one of the guest rooms.

  “Are we not staying in my room?” I ask.

  “No, sir. Your father wanted you to have this room.”

  It’s no surprise why. Its mahogany paneling and deep navy draperies plunge the room into darkness, no matter what time of day. Gabriella squeezes my hand. She knows how I hate the dark.

  When we are alone, I seethe.

  “It’s okay, Kolson. We’ll keep the drapes open and the lights on.”

  “That’s not the point. He knows and he does this on purpose.”

  “Of course he does, but if you let it show that it bothers you, he wins.”

  She’s right.

  “Besides, this is one hell of a room.” She snickers.

  Huge bed. Deluxe bathroom. It looks like something you’d pay a thousand a night for at the St. Regis.

  “Oh yeah. Good old Daddy has fine taste.”

  “If you call it that. I prefer open and airy, but whatever.”

  I try to laugh but it sounds more like a snort.

  “So tell me,” she says, “what does one do at one of these fancy parties?”

  “Shall we go and find out?”

  “Sure thing. But one thing first.” She grabs me and lays a long, wet, hot kiss on me. And it’s not one of those short little teasers, either. It’s an all-out, boner-in-the-britches type of kiss. By the time she’s done giving my tongue the best blow job ever, my dick is so hard, I can’t think straight.

  “Jesus, Gabriella. What’re you trying to do to me?”

  “Um, nothing, why?” She looks at me innocently.

  “Fuck.” I look down at my clearly outlined erection and tug my shirt
out of my jeans so it covers the damn thing. “Let’s get out of here before I rip your clothes off.”

  I grab her hand and as we walk, she asks, “Do you think we’re appropriately dressed wearing jeans?”

  “Good question. I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  We see one of the servants at the bottom of the massive stairway and she directs us to the terrace out back. It’s early September and it’s a beautiful day, still warm as the summer winds down. We’re the last to arrive, and we are not dressed appropriately. My father peruses us with disdain.

  “Kolson. Gabby. So good of you to join us. Let me introduce you.” The names are familiar, all his business acquaintances. None I truly care to know. I paste on my plastic smile but use my genuine one for my mother.

  “Kolson. Gabby. So nice to see you.” She hugs us and holds my hand.

  “Mom, I’m sorry we’re not dressed suitably. I want to take Gabriella for a ride on Storm later. Afterward, we’ll change.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. Sit and have some lunch with us.”

  We join the others at the table and eat a lunch of salad, shrimp, crab, and a whole lot of stuff I can’t taste as I watch my father drool over Gabriella. He’s doing his best to manipulate her, but now that she’s on to him, she’s playing his game—only she’s not buying one shred of it. He’s too into himself to notice, though, and I have to hand it to her. She’s good. Very good. She’s actually manipulating him in the conversation. They’re chatting about charities. She’s into her volunteer activities and he thinks he has her over a barrel because he’s trying to belittle her for giving away her services. Then she totally nails him.

  “So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t volunteer and that I should charge for everything I do? Wasn’t it Socrates who said, ‘If a man is proud of his wealth, he should not be praised until it is known how he employs it’? Are you proud of your wealth, Langston?”

  His face instantly turns red and blotchy. He doesn’t like to be challenged. I gently squeeze her leg, telling her to ease up.