Two households. One secret that will change everything.
I was raised to believe his family was nothing but trash.
I was raised to believe her family was the root of all evil.
I sent his brother to prison.
I should hate her for what she did.
I’ve never fought a day in my life.
I’ve fought every day of my life.
I need him to help me find answers.
I need her to set the record straight.
I should stay away from him.
I should walk away from her.
But I can’t.
But I can’t.
*This book is a standalone, contemporary/mystery romance and is intended for readers 18 and older*
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K. Ryan lives in the Green Bay area with her crazy-supportive boyfriend and the best decision of her adult life, a not-so-stray cat named Oliver. When not writing, she’s either binge-watching something on Netflix, running, reading, or cheering on the Packers.
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He’s already moved the desk back when he tells me: “I got enough. Don’t worry about it, Rae. We just need to focus on getting the hell out of here. You locked the door, right?”
I just nod as he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the French doors leading out into the terrace. Crisp night air whips around my face and I’m standing on the terrace of the mayor’s office as Jack swings his legs over the edge like he’s actually prepping to jump.
“What are you—”
“You got any better ideas?” Jack cuts in with a huff.
He digs the chain out from around his neck, kisses the cross, and then jumps off the terrace sitting two-stories above the ground. He springs up to his feet like nothing happened and holds his arms out to me.
“Rae!” he whispers loudly. “You gotta do it. You have to.”
My heart stutters in my chest and somehow underneath my mind screaming at me to do otherwise, my limbs find a mind of their own. My hands grip the edges of the railing and I know we don’t have much time left.
“I’ll catch you, Rae,” Jack waves his hands to me from the ground. “I promise.”
Heaven help me. I believe him.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Then I free fall into his arms.
He catches me just like he said he would, but we still tumble backward with my weight collapsing on top of him as we land on the wet grass. All the air knocks out of my lungs when my bad knee connects with the ground and slivers of pain shoot up and down my thigh.
Jack’s hands snake around my waist and he whips me around, hauls me up, and heaves me over his shoulder before he takes off running.
“I know, I know,” he cuts me off breathlessly. “Just hang on.”
My trust in him is boundless in this moment. He’ll keep me safe. He’ll get me to where Bennett’s hiding. I feel like my life is in his hands right now and maybe it’s been this way the whole time—I just never really knew it until right now, with my body slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he sprints off the mayor’s property and through the neighbors’ backyards. When we finally reach our getaway car, Bennett hops out of the driver’s side and holds the back door open so Jack can slide me into the back seat.
Then he follows me inside the car, gripping a tight hold of my injured knee and shouts, “Drive, Benn!”
Short of the tires squealing in our wake, Bennett follows his orders and gets us the hell out of there. When we’re a safe distance away, he whips around in his seat, surveys the scene in front of him—namely, both my legs splayed out over Jack’s lap and my dress practically hiked up to my knees—and he waggles his eyebrows at me.
“So where to, milady?” he asks with an evil grin. “Your place or his?”