DARKEST: A DARK BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (The Boyne Club Book 3) Read online

  DARKEST

  THE BOYNE CLUB SERIES BOOK THREE

  A BILLIONAIRE DARK ROMANCE

  BY VI CARTER

  OTHER BOOKS BY VI CARTER

  WILD IRISH SERIES

  RECKLESS (prequel)

  VICIOUS #1

  RUTHLESS #2

  FEARLESS #3

  MERCILESS #4

  HEARTLESS #5

  THE BOYNE CLUB

  DARK #1

  DARKER #2

  DARKEST #3

  PITCHBLACK #4 (

  THE OBSESSED DUET

  A DEADLY OBSESSION #1

  A CRUEL CONFESSION #2

  THE CELLS OF KALASHOV

  THE SIXTH (NOVELLA)

  THE COLLECTOR #1

  THE HANDLER #2

  WARNING

  This book is a dark romance. This book contains scenes that may be triggering to some readers and should be read by those only 18+ or older.

  CHAPTER ONE

  SCARLETT

  Hunger can make us turn feral. Uncontrollable. I’ve made some pretty bad decisions while hungry. I’ve done things I’m not proud of for food. My stomach roars, and I tuck my chin into my chest as I walk down the main street. All’s quiet at this time of the morning. A park beside the store has a few people jogging or out for an early morning walk. They look healthy and happy. I hate them. The warmth from the overhead heater blasts me as I enter the shop. The heat is enough to make me want to curl up under it and go to sleep. My bones ache like I’m eighty instead of twenty-one.

  I stop, inhaling a deep breath. The scent of freshly made breakfast rolls wafts from the deli. My stomach gives another savage roar.

  Don’t linger, Scar. Just get what you need and get out.

  My gaze roams over all the food. I want it all. I try to focus and not look so jumpy. Everything calls to me. My dirty sneakers shuffle forward and I’m standing in front of rows of colorful wrappers. My hands become clammy inside the woolen gloves. The wool was once pink, now I can’t really put a name to the color. Maybe grayish-pink.

  My fingers wrap around the Mars bar and my stomach roars again. It’s too loud. A man glares at me. He doesn't look like an assistant; he looks like he owns the shop. He shakes his head slightly, telling me not to do it. My clothes tell the story of my homelessness. My long, unkempt hair is giving away my lack of money. I should put it back. Tears sting my eyes as I think of replacing the bar and going hungry.

  It’s a snap decision. My fingers tighten around the bar and I spin, tearing from the shop.

  “Stop!”

  I run faster and hit the door hard, nearly toppling over a woman pushing a pram. I want to apologize but the shop owner is right behind me. He lunges for me, but I skip away from his grasp and run out onto the road. A car horn beeps, making my heart race. The car screeches to a stop and I slam my hands on the bonnet. I meet the angry eyes of the driver before I continue running across the street.

  “Come back!”

  The shop owner is right behind me. Oh, shit. My feet hit last night’s rainfall as I run down the alleyway. The moment I become aware of my surroundings, I know I’m caught. The alleyway cuts off—it’s a dead end. A ladder attached to the building to my left hangs down close to the ground. I clutch my candy and race for it.

  “Stop!” The shop owner's shouts make my thin legs move quicker. I grab the rung of the ladder and pull myself up. The rungs disappear under me as I scale the ladder quickly, and when I look down, he’s glaring up at me with a promise in his eyes.

  I fucked up. I know I did. My eyes water as I clear the ladder and roll onto the rooftop, landing on my back. My heart races a million miles an hour. I sit up and grip the brickwork and shuffle forward so I can peer back over the edge. He’s no longer below me—he races back across the street. I don’t take my focus off him until he turns and glares back up at the rooftop; I duck my head. I don’t linger, but start to make my way across the building. A small wall separates the next roof. I cross the wall and grin. My stomach growls and I wrap my arms around my abdomen. I’m ready to sit down and start eating.

  Everything in me stills as my vision zeroes in on a man lying flat on his stomach on the next rooftop over. I move forward, trying to get a better look at him. He’s so still. He’s dead. My stomach sours further.

  Leave him, Scar.

  My feet move quietly towards him. The saliva in my mouth dries up as I get closer. He’s dead. Oh, God. I need to tell someone. Why is he up here? Maybe to sleep? There are a lot of homeless people in Dublin, far more than there should be. I chew my cracked and dry lips until a metallic taste fills my mouth. I stop moving as my gaze homes in on a long black rifle that’s lying against his shoulder. Fear shoots through me as I continue to study the man. His head moves ever so slightly, his eye against the scope. The movement causes my heart to skyrocket and fear buzzes and rattles in my bones. I need to leave. He’s not dead. I need to leave now.

  The rifle aims out towards the park. Bile crawls up my throat.

  Go, Scar.

  A man jogs in the park. He’s oblivious to the shooter who has trained his rifle on him. The shooter shifts slightly, rolling his shoulder as he moves his finger to the trigger.

  He pulls the trigger.

  The click is soft, but it’s like a punch to my stomach as the jogger falls to the ground. People around him stop, and a woman starts to scream. More people come over with hesitation in their steps to see why she is screaming. There’s a lot of commotion and crimson liquid leaves the jogger’s head.

  I swallow more bile. The shooter’s dark eyes connect with me and I’m ready to throw up. The rooftop disappears quickly as I run for my life. I know he’s chasing me from the shift in the space behind me. He isn’t making much noise but he’s there. I won’t look back, I want to so badly but I need to focus. I clear another wall and jump. I have no idea what I will land on. I hit the surface and feel a burning in my ankle, but I don’t slow down. The heavy thud has me looking back. He’s cleared the wall. His eyes are filled with violence that he will unleash on me if I get caught. I jump from one building to the next. The gap is small but my body hits the new rooftop hard. It knocks the air from my lungs. I scramble back up and fall sideways, my body giving up on me. A hand grabs my shoulder and spins me mid-fall. I tumble to the ground and I’m staring into the barrel of a gun.

  My hand moves slowly into my pocket, where I left my bar. I can't let it go. I can’t lose it. It’s stupid that I’m thinking about the food when I’m about to die. But in case I somehow survive this, I’ll have food.

  “What are you doing up here, little girl?”

  Little girl? I take another look at the man, but my fear makes everything buzzy and fuzzy.

  The tip of the rifle is cold as he presses it against my cheek. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “I was hiding.”

  His eyes dart to my pocket that I still have my hand in. “What’s in your pocket?”

  I’m shaking my head. He can’t have my candy. I’ll starve. My logic has left me and I can’t reason with the madness right now.

  “Take your hand out of your pocket slowly, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

  The hairs rise on the back of my neck. My heart is ready to leap from my body and nose-dive off the side of the building. Maybe running and jumping would be better than being shot up here. How long would it take for anyone to find me? I have no one who would look for me. Would anybody care? I look longingly at the edge.

  The man cocks the gun and my attention is drawn back to him. As I slowly remove my hand from my pocket, he moves back slightly, but I can see in
his eyes that he is ready to pull the trigger. My vision wavers as I slowly hold out the Mars bar. His gun points at the candy. I blink and tears spill as I open my fingers. The bar is squashed. I’m sure it’s also melted from the sweat that soaks my hand. I’ll still eat it if I live long enough.

  A half cry bubbles from my lips. The man’s dark eyes focus on my face.

  “Who are you hiding from, little girl?” He holds the gun to my head again.

  Tiredness rattles my bones and I let my eyelids flutter closed. I tighten my hold on my prize. “The shopkeeper.”

  “Open your eyes.” The barrel of the rifle presses into my cheek. The cold steel has me alert and my heart starts a new rhythm of fear.

  “I saw nothing,” I plead, not ready to die.

  “You stole that bar?” His eyes go to my candy and I pull it close to my chest. My stomach roars again. I just want to eat it. I think of asking him if I can have the bar before he pulls the trigger. Let me die with something in my stomach.

  “Can I eat it?” I ask.

  His eyes darken. Half his face is covered in black hair. His beard is thick and I wonder if food ever gets stuck in all that hair.

  He takes a step closer and my eyelids squeeze together. This is it. Not how I expected my life to end. I thought I would starve to death in an alleyway or be mugged for my pitiful belongings. My hand reaches for my neck where the one and only possession I have hangs. I don’t get to touch, I don’t get to run my fingers across the pendant one more time.

  Pain explodes behind my lids and burns my face. My stomach roils and the world tilts as I hit the ground. I can’t see. My skull is on fire. Is this what death is? No images flash before my eyes. I blink and the last thing I see is large military boots before the world drags me to the pit of hell.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SCARLETT

  My head aches. The first thing I’m aware of is the smell. It’s different from the scent of the city and rainfall. It doesn't all smell of cold steel. It’s warm, manly-cologne. God, it’s been so long since I inhaled anything so nice. My stomach shifts, and I groan to hold down the bile in my stomach. I open one eye first. A beige shaggy rug is under me. My fingers immediately separate as I sink them into the fibers to try to keep myself from spewing everywhere. I open my other eye and the room comes into focus. I’m in a living space. Four short legs of a coffee table are in front of me. A black leather couch is beyond that. The cushions on the couch are the same beige as the rug under my hands. My gaze skitters to the ceiling where pin lights shine down on me. I close my eyes as a new wave of pain assaults my head. Hairs rise on the back of my neck as footsteps ring out close to me. A wave of dizziness sends the room into a spin. I know I shouldn’t move, but I slowly draw my legs up to my chest.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  My eyes pop open, my heart threatens to explode from my chest. What will he do to me? He had killed that man without hesitating. A whimper pulls from my lips.

  He bends down and places a finger over his lips. “Shhh.”

  I want to close my eyes, I want to disappear, but I fear if I blink, that he’ll hurt me. My jaw feels like it’s being wound up too tightly, like it might shatter at any moment.

  His dark eyes roam across my face. My heart beat thrashes in my ears and I can no longer hear any other sound. Even as he stands back up—it’s soundless. He turns and leaves me, my fingers tighten around the shaggy rug. He’s going to get his gun, he’s going to end me now. I never had my Mars bar. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat again. Over the pounding of my heart I can make out the sound of running water. My gaze darts around the room for a weapon. A large red and black lamp sits on a table beside the couch. I could use the lamp, I could hit him with the brass end.

  The water stops running. My hands dig further into the rug.

  Move, Scar.

  If I got the lamp, I could hit him over the head and escape. I’m playing out my next move in my head, but my body won’t move. I’m afraid to move. He returns holding a glass of water that no doubt he has laced with poison. He kneels down and like I’m some dog he pushes it close to my lips. “Drink.” His words are sharp.

  The glass clangs against my teeth as I attempt to keep my cracked lips pressed together. A whimper slips from my open mouth as he pours the water in. My throat works by automatically swallowing and consuming what he gives. The cold water travels right down to my aching and empty stomach. He pulls the glass back and stares down at me.

  “I don’t want you to speak.” He nods after his words.

  The water in my stomach rebels and I try to focus on his face, focus on something so the liquid doesn’t come up.

  “I’m not sure what I’m doing with you yet, but this is my home. No one will ever find you. You need to resign yourself to that fact. You will never leave.”

  I swallow more bile. His mouth moves again but my heartbeat takes over my hearing. It rushes blood too fast through my body and the corner of my vision fades. If I were standing, I wouldn’t be able to keep upright. I take a breath in through my nose and slowly let it out through my mouth.

  His lips stop moving and fear chokes me. The glass is pushed against my lips again and he pours the remainder of the water into my mouth. My stomach quivers when the water hits it.

  “You look like a Kate. So that’s your name. That’s what you answer to. Nod if you understand.”

  What? I’m bobbing my head.

  “Do you want more water?”

  I swallow more saliva that pools in my mouth, and nod.

  He seems pleased as he rises and leaves me. My gaze snaps to the lamp again. It’s a weird moment, a moment of clarity. I’ve been kidnapped and I am now this man's prisoner.

  I shift my hand and it’s all I need. I rise and the room tilts. I hear the running water as I crawl over to the table. The lamp, just focus on the lamp. That’s all that matters, that lamp. With shaking hands I reach for the lamp and slowly take it down off the table. It’s attached to a plug in the floor. I unplug it and wait. The water isn’t running. I hear his footsteps returning to me. His feet appear.

  “What are you doing?”

  I slowly look up at him and stand as my insides sway. I can’t stop the liquid that rushes up my throat as I spew the contents across his boots. He jumps back, the glass falls from his fingers and shatters across the wooden floor. I’m moving towards him as my eyes burn from getting sick. The lamp is so heavy, it feels like it’s made of marble. I raise it with both hands and with every bit of strength I possess, I slam it down on his head. He stares at me with wide eyes briefly stunned as I bring the lamp down again. Blood runs down the side of his face and my stomach roils.

  I’m waiting for him to fall over from the blow, but he continues to stare at me.

  Run, Scar.

  The bang of the lamp when it hits the ground has me running across the wooden floor which changes to a hard marble flooring. I pass a kitchen and move down a long white corridor. He isn’t following me. I turn each door handle, trying to find a way to the outside world. Each door has my pulse spiking: bedroom, bathroom, a gym, a living space. The last door I open, I pause. The walls are decorated with guns from floor to ceiling. I’d never held a gun in my life, never mind fired one.

  “Kate!”

  My body locks up as he calls my name. My legs refuse to move as cold air creeps over me. I want to curl up or let him get me so this ends.

  “Kate!”

  The sound of my name leaving his lips is the key that unlocks me and I grab a gun off the wall. He enters the room and I spin, holding it up.

  “I’ll shoot.” Tears leak from my eyes as I speak.

  He holds up both hands and pauses in the doorway. The gun must be loaded. I blink and more tears fall. “Move into the room.”

  He takes a step towards the wall.

  “The other side!” My hands tremble and I try to steady the gun. He listens to me and moves to the other side of the room with his hands still in the air.r />
  He takes a step towards me.

  “Stop!” My stomach roils and I swallow the sick this time. “You stay back.” I warn him.

  He pauses. Blood still runs from the side of his face. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to leave.

  “Don’t move.” I remind him as I walk backwards toward the door. “Don’t follow me.” I add.

  My words have a calming effect on me. They’re telling me I’m in control and I will survive this. That it’s okay. This is a blip in my messed up life.

  He takes a step towards me and when he lowers his hands, I hold the gun higher.

  “I will shoot you.” I plead with my words for him not to make me become a killer. He takes another step and tears leak from my eyes.

  “Please!” He keeps walking and he’s going to reach me and kill me, I see the brutality in his eyes.

  My eyelids flutter closed as I pull the trigger. The snap has me opening my eyes. It should have been a bang, not a snap. My eyes clash with his and I keep pulling the trigger; each time fear consumes me. The gun’s empty. His dark eyes tell me he knew that.

  He reaches me and pulls the gun from my hand. It hits the ground hard and sails across the wooden floor. Heavy hands grab my arms and I’m airborne, my head hits his back as he slings me over his shoulder. I’m frozen as the world blurs around me. The pendant on my necklace swings in front of my face like a pendulum. My fists hit his back as he carries me further down the white corridor.

  “No!” I keep pounding my fists on his back and wriggling, but he doesn’t stop or react. The upside down world blurs and rights itself as he releases me and I land on something soft. I bounce a few times, and try to regain my balance. I don’t have a second to process anything as steel wraps around my wrists. I yank my arms back and kick out at him, but he clamps the chains around the steel bed frame. My arms are stretched above me as I pull, fear claws its way up my throat.