Free Relentless Flame (Hell to Pay) by Jillian David Page B

make sense that he’d make up the story about Ray. No one here knew her old name and her past. Except Scott.
    Oh no, had Scott talked? If he blabbed, they were in deep trouble, regardless of whether Ray had died or not. Once the police figured it out, Hannah and Scott were busted.
    “Get outta here before you’re late. And bring back money. Ughhh.”
    He rolled over on the floor. After a few moments of silence, he snored again, his breathing deep and even.
    Her chest hurt. This entire situation was so completely wrong.
    Scott’s behavior was deteriorating and unlikely to improve anytime soon, and she didn’t know how to fix it. Time to reexamine the option of leaving. Would Scott be safe on his own? Who knew?
    And Dante? Such a pleasant evening had ended so badly.
    Could I catch a break here? Just one?
    With aches in her heart and in her joints, she walked to work, dreading the day. But she dreaded the time after work even more. Although she loved her brother, she needed to be free of this depressing existence.
    • • •
    Dante had driven all over Portland and the surrounding area for hours after he left the disturbing meeting with Jerahmeel last night.
    So, what had he learned?
    He still had the possibility of getting out of his contract. Damned stupid hope lit up in his chest. He tamped it down as fast as possible. The Meaningful Kill and an end to his murderous career were in reach.
    If.
    If he continued to perform his duties to the letter and kill criminals for Jerahmeel.
    If he left Hannah alone.
    And what? Let Brandon interfere? Let Jerahmeel get his nasty fingers around her?
    Abandoning her to Jerahmeel’s whim didn’t bode well for her future. Dante could only imagine what they’d do to her. She’d end up chained, in pain, and forced to heal. Or worse, she would die. But those two creatures wouldn’t kill anyone quickly.
Kristus
, she’d live a life of nothing but torture.
    This morning, Jerahmeel’s command ate at his insides like acid.
    Since when did he care about someone’s future other than his own?
    Jåvlar
. I have to walk away from this situation
.
    Hannah enslaved to Jerahmeel or destroyed by him. Not a viable solution.
    But why should Dante care? It had to be the concept of Jerahmeel hurting an innocent being. Dante’s caring had nothing to do with this one particular woman.
    No wonder that he wanted to punch the steering wheel even now, after driving around all night. Instead, he tried to calm down as he navigated the steep drive into the Forest Park neighborhood. He barely registered the million-dollar mansions and meticulous landscaping as he drove past.
    He had to figure out a plan.
    Eight a.m. was as good a time as any time to wake up the old man.
    Dante parked his Hummer in front of an immaculate stone Tudor home. Checking himself before he slammed the black metal door, he inhaled the loamy, damp scent of the woods and the Columbia River flowing at the bottom of the bluff. For a moment, every muscle relaxed as the scene transported him home to
Vårmland
in central Sweden with its fresh-scented spruce trees and the mossy undergrowth softening the forest floor. He could still taste the crystal clear water of any of a hundred springs burbling through the wooded landscape.
    He jammed a hand through his hair, as if the act would push back the rest of that rogue nostalgia.
    Enough
. There was work to do.
    He knocked on the massive walnut door. A tall woman he’d never seen before answered.
    “Yes?” No emotion. But there was dissatisfaction on her impassive face. Disappointment with ... him? But she’d only met him.
    Dante plowed ahead, bringing the charismatic sizzle as he rose to his full, impressive height. “Ah, is Barnaby home?”
    “Whom may I say is calling?”
    No-nonsense, with auburn hair pulled back into a severe bun, this woman was clearly not going to let him enter without appropriate clearance. Oddly enough, though, she had an air that she knew exactly who he