Free In Wicked Chains (The Wicked) by Avril Ashton Page A

Tungsten ring on her left index. “He’s still thinking of me, is he?”
    Kingston touched her shoulder, surprised by the tiny tremors running under his palm. He tightened his hold on her. “He was at the club. He watched you, told me I wasn’t doing a good job protecting you.”
    She laughed. The low sound slithered over Kingston’s skin. Niko brushed past him and gathered Sasha into his arms.
    “Let’s go into the living room, babe.”
    “No.” She pushed Niko away and turned to Kingston with overly bright eyes. “Only place I’m going is to find that slimy fuck and put him out of his misery. He’s not allowed to threaten me, to resurrect all those old wounds.” Her voice shook.
    “He doesn’t have the power to resurrect anything,” Niko told her. “Only you can do that.”
    “He tried to rape me! I was fourteen, a kid. A lonely kid and he preyed on that.”
    Kingston stood still as she screamed, his hands clenched at his sides. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the stain on his soul, of his father’s sins. Sasha got away, but they didn’t know who else was victim to Earl’s sickness.
    “Babe.” Niko pulled her into his arms again. “He tried, but you stopped him. That fourteen-year-old kid stopped him, remember that. You’re stronger than him, always have been. And if he decides to come looking for you, we’ll be here waiting. Both of us.”
    Sasha clutched Niko’s shoulders. “He has to be stopped,” she whispered.
    “He will be,” Kingston promised. “You have your happiness here.” He choked up. “You’re finally happy and I won’t allow him to take it away.” Turning his back, he walked out the kitchen and exited the house.
     
    * * * *
     
    “Ms. Royce, you have a delivery.”
    Harper Royce looked up at the knock on her office door. “Come in, Natalia.” Her secretary came in, carrying a huge bouquet of lilacs. Harper frowned. “Who’s it from?”
    Natalia shrugged. “I haven’t looked at the card.” She placed the flowers on Harper’s desk. “Do you want me to?”
    “Uh, no. That’s okay, Natalia. Thanks.”
    “There are actually two bouquets, but there’s no card on the other one.” Natalia backed toward the door. “Should I bring it in here, too?”
    “That’s not necessary, keep it outside.” Harper waved her out and waited until the door closed behind the young woman before she opened the plain white card.
    You never asked, he never volunteered: Maysin Winthrop-Ferreira . Followed by a phone number and address.
    She flung the card away, gaze clinging to it as it floated to the floor beside her desk. Heart pounding out of her chest, Harper swallowed a moan. She’d tried her best to put him from her mind, a battle she always ended up losing, and here he was, torturing her, constantly taking over her thoughts, her fantasies.
    It’d all still been harmless when she didn’t know his name. And wasn’t that ironic? She’d fallen in love with a scarred face and a heated touch, knowing nothing about the man who occupied her dreams helped to keep her sane.
    Who sent this? Who knew about them?
     
    Was it Maysin? Did he want her to call him, drop in on him sometime? He knew her position on them being together, knew it wouldn’t work. She didn’t think this was his doing. He would personalize it, she hoped.
     
    But this meant someone else knew about them, knew her heart.
    Harper picked up the phone on her desk with trembling fingers, punching in the numbers she’d already committed to memory. It meant nothing, only that she had a good memory.
    Listening to The Notorious BIG’s Who Shot Ya? as Maysin’s call-tone, the phone shook against her ear. Butterflies wreaked havoc in her tummy.
    “Yeah.”
    Harper broke out in cold sweats. Tears burned her eyes at the familiar voice, and the way he affected her.
    She whimpered.
    “Hello?” Annoyance crept into his voice. “This isn’t the phone you want to play on, fucker. Speak or I hang up.