Free No Magic Moment (Secrets of Stone Book 4) by Angel Payne, Victoria Blue Page B

want the canker of Declan anywhere near it?
    The answer to that had come tonight—in all its disgusting glory. The poison that hit my soul from the moment I walked into the ballroom and saw that cocksucker’s hands all over Margaux…
    The memory clung to my brain worse than the sand on my suit. Then the nausea. The terror. The rage.
    Radio sets squawked. Pete and his pal punched their earpieces and yelled that they were on their way to the hotel’s newest emergency. They left without a word, letting me struggle to my feet in a private bath of humiliation.
    It’d be at least another ten minutes before Margaux and Andre connected and the car was ready. Before then, it was best for me to lay low. Very low.
    I turned and trudged along the beach, grateful as hell for the empty sand and the wind brushing up from the water. Walking off the edge seemed a damn good choice right now. With my phone in my pocket, it’d be easy enough for Margaux to call me back. Only a few key things to focus on now. Breathing, Stepping. Calming.
    The air was filled with fall smokiness and a charged chill. The wind carried faint laughter from one of the hotel’s balconies, where a group had decided to take their party outside. I looked across the water, layers of cobalt and silver sliced by the brilliant beam from the Point Loma lighthouse, but called a silent bullshit on the light. If my brain were a ship, it’d be crashed on the rocks by now.
    Sort of like the ones just up ahead now.
    Sort of.
    The boulders were more suited for children’s pirate play and teenage make-out sessions than shattering ship hulls, but they suited my purpose just fine, as well. Finding a perfect crevice, I sat my ass once more in the sand, rested elbows on my raised knees, then dropped my head between them.
    What the hell now ?
    Coming clean with Margaux was no longer an option I could ignore—but what would she say when I did? The shit with Dec…it wasn’t just a few minor childhood memories. Getting back at him had guided so many decisions in my life. Training in martial arts and maintaining my fitness. Entering law school. Living no more than two hours from Mom, ever.
    Would Margaux be furious that I’d kept all this in for so long? Worse, would she stare at me with sadness…pity?
    “Christ,” I muttered. Not the fucking pity .
    I wasn’t her mental charity case, now or ever. We might be living in her place until I banked enough for a real home, but I took care of things on other levels for us—including the emotional one. She got to lean on me , not the other way around. The woman had spent too much of her life being her own sanctuary. It was damn time someone else was her safe harbor, too.
    Safe harbor. Yeah, that’s you—the guy hiding out in the rocks on the beach .
    My head shot up.
    Pussy pouting time was over. I had to man up about this. That meant letting Margaux in—everywhere. Trusting her as deeply as I kept demanding she trust me. And yeah, even walking away if Declan was still in there, infesting tonight’s party—a strong possibility, considering he’d likely scored a few free sympathy drinks from the hotel alone.
    Speak of the goddamn devil.
    I’d no sooner gotten to my feet than the voice from my nightmares broke over the sand, growling a profanity. Instinctively, I tucked back against the rocks. Even if I wasn’t shrouded in shadows, I knew Declan’s bite wasn’t directed at me. The man always swore at me as a casual conversation enhancer.
    There was nothing casual about his tone now.
    “—more fucking time!” It was the back end of a statement that hadn’t had a favorable start. Wait. The man’s face, twisted in a grimace I’d never seen before, revised my assessment. No way was that a “statement.” It was Declan’s version of a plea.
    As his expression screwed tighter, I felt mine widen. Beneath my breath, words tumbled out. “What the—”
    “More…time.” A second man stepped into view, accompanied by three