Forced: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (The Blackthorn Brothers Book 1) (3 page)

My father was dead.

Murdered.

And I was about to make a deal with the devil to keep my family safe and get the revenge my father deserved.

I mulled over the terms I was about to agree to, and not for the first time these past few months, I decided that I must be not only insane, but a masochist. I’d be permanently linking myself to Patrick Turner, one of the most dangerous criminals on the West Coast—and even worse, I’d be marrying his crazy daughter.

The mere thought of her made my heart feel like it was being wrenched out of my chest and twisted into a knot, even as my cock went hard for her.
Because Wren?
Fuck…Wren was a goddamned mess, is what she was.

And yet she was also the only woman I’d ever loved.

But there was more to it than just that, because I knew to an extent, I was probably the one responsible for sending her off the rails. My only excuse was that we’d both been so young, and things had been getting far too serious, far too fast. I’d been in my early twenties, and she was the only daughter of a downright scary fucking man. Add in the fact that even back then she was a crazy handful, and was it really any wonder why I’d walked away from her before things got far too serious?

Yet here I was, with my life coming full circle
. Fucking fate.

“If I marry Wren, you’ll take care of whoever was behind the attack on my father? And you’ll make sure that all the parties involved pay for his death, so that my family will finally be safe?” It was the whole reason why I was doing any of this—to guarantee the safety of the rest of my family.

They’d attacked my father, landing him in the hospital, and then set his house on fire, nearly killing my pregnant sister-in-law, and then finished the job they’d started, by murdering my father just as he regained his health.

I refused to lose anyone else.

But there was more…

I wanted revenge for my dad’s murder.

“I’ll do all I can to guarantee your family’s safety, and make sure the men who killed your father are punished for their crime.” Turner took a long sip of his bourbon, his once muscular and vital form now weak and cancer-ridden. “As for your end of the bargain…Wren won’t be happy to see you, I’m afraid. But you can tell her that she won’t be receiving her inheritance, her trust fund, or her monthly allowance if she doesn’t marry you—
immediately
. She may hate you now, but you were the only person to ever make her happy, so I’m counting on you finding a way to make that happen again. And it goes without saying that it’ll fall on your shoulders to keep her safe once I’m gone. Am I making myself clear?”

Every fiber of my being told me this was a huge mistake; that I should get up and walk out that door, and never give any of this another thought. And yet, I couldn’t risk losing anyone else I loved, the ache in my heart from my father’s recent death still like a gaping hole in my very soul, in my very existence.

My family and I were close—always had been, despite there being six of us, all brothers. Losing anyone else just wasn’t an option, and as the oldest, it felt like it was my responsibility to step up to the plate—even if it meant making a deal with the devil. Because my poor mother…she’d been devastated to lose my father, but if she lost any of her children after the loss of her husband, I feared she’d die of heartache.

“Don’t worry. I understand the terms—as long as you take care of your end of the bargain.” I tossed back what remained of my whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid smoothly down my throat, knowing I’d need every bit of fortification for what I was about to do.

“Don’t you worry, son. No one’s going to mess with your family now—and whoever took your father from you will pay for it dearly.” He ran a heavily veined hand across his chin, taking me in. “You know…my business—everything I’ve built—was supposed to go to my son, Steven. But with his death—and with you marrying Wren—the business is yours if you want it.”

Steven had been Turner’s son—or rather his stepson, since Turner had remarried when Wren and Steven were still fairly young, a few years after his wife’s death. And Turner might be looking for a replacement, but there was no way I was letting him pull me back into such a dangerous life when I was so fucking close to finally escaping it. “I’m looking to get out of that sort of line of work—not to take on more of it. And it’s for the best, especially if you don’t want Wren to become a target.”

“Glad you’re already thinking of how to keep her safe, though it does pain me to let everything I worked so hard for to just fall to dust.” He let out a ragged sigh, though it did little to persuade me.

I’d been trying to get myself and my family out of this life for a long time, and Turner sure as hell wouldn’t be convincing me otherwise. “Not going to happen, Turner. I’m here for only one thing, so if we could please get on with it, I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re a ballsy fucker, Blackthorn—just like your father was.” Turner tossed a file across the table toward me. “She’s been living in San Francisco. Everything you’ll need to know to find her is in there.”

I flipped open the folder and leafed through the papers and the photos, my heart immediately lurching at the sight of her, picture after picture, clearly taken without her knowledge. She was still as gorgeous as ever and still had that wild and mischievous look in her eyes. It drew you in, even if you knew nothing good could come of it.

There were pictures of her alone, but those were few and far between. Instead, most were pictures of Wren laughing and hanging out with several different men—and a few women—leaning back in their arms, or more intimate pictures of her caught in a kiss. And that meant convincing her to marry me was going to be even more of a pain in the ass, since any attachments to others would only complicate things, given that I was the one who was supposed to be marrying her.

I shut the folder and tossed it on the table with a shake of my head, knowing this was going to be nothing short of a disaster. “You’ve been having her watched?”

“Of course I have. And she knows it too—not that it’s slowed her down any.” Turner gave me a wry smile, his blue eyes locking on mine as if to make a point that he was still the one in control. “But you’ll make her happy—and you’ll sort out these other men. Just don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want anyone to have the chance to go after your family simply because you’re taking your sweet time getting married.”

Pissed off, I got to my feet and snagged the folder. “Keep them safe, Turner. Or there
will
be consequences. Because if you think I’m scared of you, you can guess again.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? It’s why you’re the only man good enough for my Wren.”

It ended up being one hell of a drive down from Seattle to San Francisco, since flying back with her wasn’t really an option if she decided not to cooperate. Having her freak out in the middle of an airport and start screaming that I was kidnapping her wouldn’t turn out so well. But that long ass drive meant I had far too much time to run through all the different ways this thing with Wren could go wrong.

Things between us had always been intense—but there was something there with Wren that made me feel like she was walking a razor’s edge, and she’d fall into the abyss if the winds shifted in the slightest. And though she was smart and loving, caring and vibrant, it also felt like she was clawing at shadows.

Yet, my options were few—and Wren’s were even fewer if she wanted to continue living the life she’d grown accustomed to. We were getting hitched, whether she liked it or not.

I pulled up in front of Wren’s place, ignoring the tension in my shoulders as I hopped out of my car and stretched my legs out, my ass sore from the long drive. Heading through the front door, I made note of the fact that the security in her building was practically nonexistent, and after double-checking the number on her mailbox, I headed up the stairs to her apartment.

As late as it was, I somehow doubted she’d be home, and a quick knock told me my suspicions were right. After all, it wasn’t like Wren to stay in when she could go out and cause mischief. And at the moment, her absence suited me just fine.

With little security to prevent anyone from entering the building, I was relieved that she hadn’t been stupid enough to hide a key where someone might find it, given the line of work her dad was in. As for me, it’s not as though it would be hard for me to pick the lock, given that up until rather recently, I’d made a living doing questionable things, which often times included digging up information on people who needed to be persuaded. And usually that information was easier to find if I had access to their homes.

For the last decade or two, my father, and more recently, my brothers and I, had been fixers for people who didn’t want to get their hands dirty, or had gotten themselves into trouble and needed a hand getting out of it. But that was now in the past.

With my dad now dead, my brothers and I knew we’d end up the same way if we didn’t walk away. So we decided instead to focus on Blackthorn Whiskey—the distillery that we’d up until now used as a front for our less law-abiding activities.

Look at that…she’d even left a light on for me.
I stepped into the apartment and locked the door behind me, before wandering around the living area. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were all open to each other, and there was a great view of the city. Though the neighborhood was nice and trendy enough, it wasn’t ostentatious, despite the amount of money Wren had access to.

The place had a comfortable bohemian vibe going with the décor, which felt as eclectic as Wren. And I just had to check out her bedroom—and her bed.

I couldn’t resist lying back on her pillows, and was immediately hit with her scent. Even after not seeing her for the last eight years, her scent was instantaneously familiar. It was clean and slightly flowery, though it was more complex than just that, with an underlying scent of something deeper and earthy, like she’d been camping out in the woods after a summer rain, and had the smell of cedar and a wood fire clinging to her skin. And though my head knew full well that this was a bad idea, my cock had a mind all its own as it recalled what it felt like to sink into that tight little body of hers as I held her in my arms.

Looking over at her dresser, I spotted a few pictures tucked into the frame of a mirror. It’d been years since I’d last seen her, but she was gorgeous as ever. Most of the pictures were of her with her friends, but it was also hard to ignore the pictures of her with other men. Not that I was stupid enough to think she’d been leading a celibate life. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been with my share of women. What was good for the goose, and all…