Chapter 1

ERICA

Why did Marie insist on driving like she was carting around Miss Daisey? Erica clenched her fists in her lap and stared at the odometer from the passenger seat of her best friend’s car in annoyance. “Can this thing go any faster?”

“It’s a bag of bolts,” Marie cried motioning to her dashboard. “Any faster, and it’ll fall apart. Calm your tits, we’re almost there.”

Marie made a right turn toward the sleek high-rise commercial building on 5^th Avenue that her soon to be ex-fiancé, Jax, owned. Past ten o’clock, the streets down in the financial district were light on cars and people. The fewer people she saw, the angrier she’d gotten.

That bastard said he was working late. And if he wasn’t at the office, Erica was going to wring Jax’s neck.

It was their anniversary for goodness sake.

And to think, she sat fretting over his wellbeing when he didn’t show up for dinner. She waited for two hours at a candle-lit table—thinking progressively worse thoughts. Maybe Jax had gotten into an accident on his way home. Or worse—lay dead in the street someplace.

He should be so lucky.

Not five minutes after she called his brother Cav, worry pitted deep in her stomach, her phone beeped with a single message

Working Late. – J.

Working late? Jax was so full of hot air, she wondered how he didn’t burst. He was the one who begged her to cook for him in the first place. He said it would be like old times. Back when she’d cook him dinner in nothing but an apron, red lacy panties, and a pair of matching thigh-high stilettos. Heck, she even cooked his favorite plate—rare as hell steak with mashed potatoes. Not a green bean in sight.

The worst part? He didn’t even bother to call her to let her know he wasn’t coming.

Fuck that.

If he’d been working, then why didn’t he answer any of her hundred phone calls?

She knew why. Her shoulders slumped as her mind flitted to the string of messages, she received from his ex-secretary two months ago telling her that Jax had been having an affair. With her. In fact, on all the nights he ‘worked late,’ he had her spread-eagled across his desk. Erica’s breath quickened as the image of Jax banging his secretary gained traction in her mind.

She confronted him, of course. Jax told her not to believe a word of it. According to him, his ex-secretary was on a revenge plot because he fired her. It was a plausibility that took some convincing. Nothing in his secretary’s message string told her that she was lying. And nothing Jax said confirmed it either. No matter how much she wanted to believe Jax, a small nagging feeling left her unsettled. Until Jax’s older brother, Cav, told her she tried it with Cyn too. Even though she never did get to speak to Cyn about it, there was no reason for her to believe Cav wasn’t telling the truth. So, she forced it from her mind.

Now, Jax was working late. Again. And the nagging feeling was back.

Gosh, she was such an idiot. Erica’s arms folded over her chest.

“He’d better be at work,” Erica mumbled as her best friend, who sat virtually silent beside her, turned up the street adjacent to Jax’s company high rise. “I swear, he better not be cheating on me. To think, he made me feel like I was crazy for even asking. After three years, how could he do this to me? To us?”

“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” Marie reasoned, tucking her dark, almost midnight black hair behind her ear. Several stacked piercings gleamed in the flickering street lights as they drove past them. Erica used to have her ears pierced like that. Until Jax made her get rid of them. He said they no longer fit with their new image. Over the past year, not much she wore, said or did fit with their new image. So, she changed herself to meet his new expectations. She’d given up so much for Jax.

“All we know right now is that he’s working late,” Marie continued.

“What if he isn’t?” Erica’s voice cracked, hurt overshadowing her anger. “What if he’s… with someone?”

“Then, we’ll kill him.” Her friend’s deadly serious tone made her want to smile. Only, it never made it to her lips. “But we don’t know anything right now.”

“I know he won’t answer my calls.” To illustrate her point, Erica pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Jax again. Still, it rang out. Anger bubbled inside of her. The coward wouldn’t even talk to her now. Well, that was too bad. She was going to be face to face with him soon. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her then. Marie parked the car just around the corner from Jax’s building.

Before Erica could ask why they weren’t parked out front, her friend was already getting out of the car. Erica fumbled with her seat belt and scrambled after her. She should have been nervous, but too many glasses of wine at her non-existent anniversary dinner forced out any good sense she had left. Every piece of her itched to get to Jax’s despicable face.

When they turned the corner, Erica stopped.

There, at curbside, sat Jax’s stupid gleaming black Mercedes. She deflated. It did prove he wasn’t lying. He was working late. Doubt colored her. Her best friend since grade school was right; maybe it was a misunderstanding.

“He is working late. We should probably go back—” Erica took a step backward, but a pair of headlights flashed behind them as a white sports SUV came to a stop beside them.

“Hey, excuse me,” a woman with cherry red lips rolled the car window down. “Do you know where the Shift International Building is?”

Erica’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the girl with blonde hair like her own give them an expectant stare. Maybe it was a coincidence. There were tons of other companies that leased space from Jax. She could’ve been there for someone else.

Erica stood immobile, unable to think of anything other than rationalizing why the two girls were looking for Jax’s building. Marie moved first.

“It’s right here,” Marie pointed at the high rise.

“Oh good! See, I told you we wouldn’t get lost,” the girl said to her passenger and swung the sleek SUV around and parked neatly in front of Jax’s.

Erica watched in morbid fascination as the two glamazons spilled out onto the sidewalk. The blonde wore a faux fur coat that barely covered her ass, and neither did the cherry-red skirt she wore underneath it. Her red-headed friend was dressed for summer in the middle of autumn. Erica’s grandmother would say the girl was looking to catch a cold with what little she was wearing.

“Look at you two all glammed up. Hot date?” Marie asked from beside her, her bartender training kicking in hard. She was all charm and easiness. Erica was thankful that at least one of them could remain friendly and press for the information they needed. She, on the other hand, was too stunned to move.

“Yeah, I know the owner,” the blonde gave them a knowing wink, then turned to her friend. “I can’t wait for you to meet his brother Cav. Can you say hawt!”

Erica nearly choked.

“Let’s go, it’s freezing out here,” the passenger said to the blonde, tucking her arm under her friend’s.

“Don’t let us keep you. You two have fun!” Marie said brightly. As soon as the girls walked up to the after-hours button and pressed it with a buzz, her friend’s face flattened into a scowl. “Can you believe that asshole?”

“It might not be,” the denial revved tenfold, holding her breath and praying like hell they weren’t talking about Jax. Jax had five brothers. One of which was a partner in his commercial venture. She very well could be there for him. Even still, Erica’s fingers tightened into a fist as the two scantily clad women pressed the after-hours button a second time and waited for a response. Please, let it be Ryrden. Please, let it be Ryrden. Erica desperately prayed Jax’s brother was on the other side of the intercom.

“Who?” The speaker crackled at first, the world was slightly mangled.

“Heather and Mel. We’re here for Jax.”

Erica’s nails dug into her palms so hard, they almost bled.

“You’re right on time ladies,” Jax said from the intercom. “Come on up.”

Erica watched the girls get buzzed into the building. Anger coiled inside of her. Puffs of air left her in streams like a raging bull in a cartoon. She was going to burst a vein. Erica stalked toward the building. “That two-timing, rotten bastard.”

“Whoa there,” Marie tugged her back.

Erica screamed. “Let me go, you said we could kill him.”

“Or…” Marie splayed her arms out to Jax’s shiny black Mercedes like Vanna White showing a new letter. “We can kill it instead.”

It was the best idea of the night.

“Let’s,” Erica nodded in agreement. She bounded over to the car and kicked it with the heel of her boot. Loser. She kicked it again.

“Hey!” Marie called, holding her hands out to calm her down. “You’re going to break your ankle if you keep it up. Come on.”

“You said we could kill his car,” Erica whined.

“Yeah, but not with our feet,” Marie smirked, leading her to where they parked around the corner. The trunk let out a harsh screech that echoed across the vacant street. Marie’s lithe body bent in half as she dug around inside. When she finally emerged, she held up a rolled-up yoga mat.

“We’re going to beat his car with a yoga mat?” Erica’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, then crinkled as she frowned.

“Of course not,” Marie placed the yoga mat against the pavement and rolled it open. A well-worn metal bat rolled out onto the sidewalk with a clink.

“Why do you keep a bat in your trunk?” Erica looked at her strange friend.

“You mean you don’t have one?” She sputtered. “We work late nights at a bar for crying out loud. It’s for protection.”

Marie pulled a second mat out of her car, unfurling an identical bat from it.

“Two?” Erica asked with a questioning look.

“Two is batting practice. One is assault with a deadly weapon,” Marie said, tossing it to her.

“You’re my soul mate,” Erica gave her friend a wry smile before walking back to Jax’s car.

As it sat under the street lights, her feet wouldn’t take another step, like the car had a forcefield repelling her from it. As she looked at the shiny oil slick car in front of her, her liquid courage seemed spent. Erica’s heart pounded in her ears as she looked at Jax’s precious car.

“I-I don’t think I can do this,” Erica stammered, her palms sweaty against the handle of the bat.

“Oh yes you can. You want revenge,” Marie nudged her forward as she pointed her bat at the white SUV in front of Jax’s car. “It’s your anniversary and this is who he’s spending it with. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Marie was right. She’d spent so much time pretending to care about Jax’s stupid vanity projects like his brand-new Mercedes and his flashy new commercial building. All Erica ever wanted was him. But over the past two years, Jax became less of the guy who brought her flowers just because and more of the jackass who was cheating on her with the two bimbos upstairs. Her courage was back in full force.

Jax didn’t deserve her. Now, it was time for her to show him.

“Come on Marie, let’s give this jackass what he deserves.”

“Let’s do this,” her friend raised the bat over her head.

Lets. Erica stared at the car, pictured Jax’s face—his chiseled jaw, dark captivating eyes, his perfect bone structure—and swung.

“I gave you everything!” The bat crashed down onto the hood with a thud, chipping his pretty little custom paint job. She felt light as air seeing the damage.

The car blipped, then the alarm went off. Its piercing wail threatened to split her eardrums. She didn’t care. Without a second thought, Erica swung the bat at the passenger side window. Flecks of glass shattered into pieces, falling into the car and onto the pavement.

She swung the bat again, hitting the windshield with a hard thunk. Cracks splayed all over it like spiderwebs. She swung again. It folded in and cracked, but it didn’t break. Marie took up the other side and together they dropped the bats with all their might. This time, the window gave way.

Giddy, she giggled hysterically. Jax was going to weep when he saw his precious baby. Right down to the very much dented, dumb as sin, red pinstripe he had detailed to outline the front hood. Only, when Erica looked for the telltale stripe, it wasn’t there.

Oh no.

“Marie stop,” Erica called to her friend who’d just shattered one of the headlights. “I don’t think this is—”

Her words were drowned out by a booming, “What the fuck are you doing!”

Dropping the bat, Erica swirled toward the thundering voice. Two figures emerged from the building. Erica found herself face to face with a very beautiful, very intimidating, and very much not Jax, face. His emerald green eyes darkened as the bat nudged at her shoes, goading her to pick it back up. His face curled into a snarl as he took in the scene behind her.

It was as if everyone at the same moment realized what they’d just done. Erica took an involuntary step back, looking from the tall menacing man in front of her to the car they’d just destroyed.

“That’s my car!”

“Oh god,” Marie gasped.

“Shit,” Erica squeaked, her eyes wide with shock.

“Erica,” Marie called to her just as she locked eyes with the man’s vicious gaze. “Run!”

She tried, but her feet refused to move.

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