Prologue
Agent Javier Lòpez
Retribution comes in many forms. It might be an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Some people believe that makes it justified, but the time I spent in Afghanistan with the military taught me retribution isn’t a level playing field.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth doesn’t exist in my world.
In the Marines, my mission was to annihilate the target.
In the FBI, my job is to capture them.
Over four years of working on Twisted Hearts cases, and no takedown has ever been more critical.
Two years plus, I spent trying to take down Skates, the mastermind and head of the vicious gang. But his retribution didn’t come from me. I wanted it to. He issued the order to kill my friend and fellow FBI officer, Peter Carter.
Someone else took him down and ended Skates’ life and created more significant problems.
When Skates was alive, there was order within the Twisted Hearts. Now, there is a new way of doing things, and it’s more sinister than ever.
Sid Triker, recently paroled from a thirty-year murder sentence, stepped into the role. He gives the orders, and thousands of members across the country follow.
And he’s issued an order to deliver a woman to him, and offered a one hundred thousand dollar reward to whomever can bring him this woman so she can become his.
She’s my woman.
And his retribution will be death. As soon as we bust into this old building intel told us he’s having a meeting in, I’m shooting him—directly in the head.
There will be no mercy, no warning, no hesitation.
My partner, Chloe, and I have our guns out. The safeties are off. She nods and, with adrenaline coursing through my veins, I turn the handle and shove the door open while we both stay on opposite sides of the entryway.
There is no noise. The fluorescent lights are on. I cautiously peek inside, and my heart sinks.
It’s empty. Not one piece of furniture or other item remains. No one is present.
“Damn it!”
“You have to be kidding me,” Chloe mutters.
“We’ve been set up. Our intel is compromised. This is the third—” My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I retrieve my cell, and a cold sweat breaks out on my skin.
“Oh my God,” Chloe mumbles, staring at hers.
A picture of my beautiful Gabriella, gagged, tears shining in her eyes pops up in a text message.
I run for the car, and Chloe follows. The drive to my place, where Gabriella is supposed to be, feels like slow motion, even though I’m driving fast.
I pull up to the building and throw the car in park, leave the keys in it, and take two steps at a time up the stairs. When I get to the third floor, I sprint down the hallway and punch in the code to my condo unit.
“Gabriella!” I holler in panic.
Please be here.
My heart is racing, and I run from room to room, opening doors, but she’s nowhere.
“Gabriella!”
“Javier, she isn’t here.” Chloe puts her hand on my arm.
“Ah!” I tug at my hair. “We have to find her.”
Think, Javier.
“Oh shit.” Chloe crouches by the entrance.
“What?”
I hadn’t noticed it when I came in. I was only praying Gabriella would be here even though I knew in my gut she wouldn’t be.
Blood on the tile. I swallow the bile in my throat then crouch, swiping my finger over a drop. My pulse beats faster. “It’s dry. They could have had her for hours by now.”
“Where is she?” Hudson storms in.
“They took her,” Chloe says.
“No!” He hits his hand on my wall so hard the drywall crashes in.
Ryland and Beckett fly in behind him.
I stand. “I’m going to kill them. All of them. When I’m done, Triker and anyone else who ever touched Gabriella will be dead.”
1
Gabriella
Seven Months Prior
Acid lies in the back of my throat, and I slowly open my eyes, but it’s so bright I shut them again.
Where am I?
Why is my head pounding?
“I’ll take her home.”
Why is Ryland talking about taking me home?
“No. Let her sleep. I’ll bring her home when she wakes up and isn’t puking anymore.”
Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t.
Ugh. You’re such an idiot.
Flashbacks of the previous night race to my head.
Javier stood at my front door, with his dimples and cocky grin. I made him remove his shirt, which he did with one hand. My insides throbbed as I stared at his rock-hard torso. And I would have happily licked every inch all night.
Then a Twisted Heart gangster called Triker showed up. I had never seen him before. He knew my brother Beckett from prison and somehow, got into my parents room and was screwing two women. My oldest brother Hudson pulled out a gun, which I didn’t even know he owned. After the incident, a true Brooks style fight with all my siblings erupted, which led me to guzzle Connor’s fishbowl. Since Ryland wouldn’t shut up, I left, already buzzing. Javier drove Connor, Gracie, and I to the bar.
Once I got there, I downed several shots with Connor and Gracie while Javier was in the restroom, since he said multiple times I wasn’t allowed to have any more alcohol.
The true kicker came next. The hole in the wall bar we were in was dark. I made Javier dance with me and proceeded to molest his cock as he repeatedly gripped my hands to stop me.
They don’t even have a dance floor there. Ugh. I cringe and bury my head into the pillow, inhaling the delicious, manly scent of Javier.
Wait. Why am I in his bed?
Oh God. Did I sleep with him?
Think, Gabriella.
I peek under the covers. I’m wearing his T-shirt and nothing else.
The pounding of my brain against my skull continues as I make my way down memory lane.
He was standing in line outside the bathroom door at my party. I placed my hand on his arm. “My room won’t have a line. I locked my door. Come on.”
He reluctantly followed me upstairs.
I unlocked the door to my dimly lit room and pointed to my private en suite. “There you go.”
When he came back out, he said, “Thanks,” and started to leave.
“I don’t buy the story Ryland told.”
He spun toward me and said nothing.
Not sure what he’s covering up, but I’ll find out.
I decided to change tactics. “You live here?”
“Yes. I have for several years.”
“Where are you from?”
“All over. I was a military brat and then joined up right out of high school.”
“What branch?”
“Marines.”
I licked my lips slowly. “My favorite.”
He checked me out. “Is that right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why is that?”
I dragged my finger across the stars tattoo on his biceps before gripping it. “I don’t know. It just is.”
He shifted then cleared his throat. “Let me guess—lots of your boyfriends were Marines?”
“Nope. I don’t really have boyfriends.”
“So, you’re the no-relationship girl? Wouldn’t have assumed that, but hey, that’s cool.”