Page 1 of Vendetta
PROLOGUE
Have you ever known that you shouldn’t do something, but did it anyway? Sometimes temptation outweighs risk, want trumps all consequences.
It was one of those moments.
It was a moment that started a hurricane that would sweep us away into the world of imperfect love and vicious hate. Insatiable lust. Excruciating pain. Guilt, and temptation.
That one look. That first tentative touch. Just two people who found each other in the dark.
It was as simple as that.
And it was just as complicated.
But nothing worth having ever comes easy.
1
LEIGHTON
I slowly crouch lower behind the rusty car, hoping, no, praying that they don’t see me. How do I get myself into these situations?You’re a stupid,stupidgirl,I tell myself,for coming after him here. It’s true that I often get myself in trouble, but this is crossing the line, even for me.
I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. I'll have to tell my dad, and then a man’s death will be forever on my hands. Forever on my conscience.
But I can’tnottell him. George is supposed to be loyal to him, someone he can trust, and he needs to know whatever nefarious scheme he’s planning. I knew all along George was up to no good, there’s just something insincere about his presence.
He’s a rat. A traitor to my family.
My hands touch the wet, dirty pavement on the parking lot, making me cringe. A stray cat watches me from under the car, its eyes glowing in the dark. I stay silent and listen, only hearing snippets of their conversation, but nothing to indicate what they're talking about, not really. And he's talking tohim.
Devon Andre.
I’ve never spoken to Devon, but I’ve seen him around. A lot. We both pretend we don’t know the other, despite the…situationshipwe have going on. It’s easier that way.
Our families don’t like each other, and I don’t know why, exactly, but I can guess. I’m not completely naïve, and though I’m not told the exact ins and the outs of the world I live in, I do know what kind of things go on. The kind of things my family, and Devon’s, too, partake in.
Devon Andre.A head of thick black hair, cut shorter in the back and longer in front, partly concealing one of his green eyes. Tall, lithe, and with just the right amount of muscle, Devon belongs on the covers of magazines.
It’s such a shame.
“Here it is,” George says, producing a legal-sized envelope. Devon looks at it, taking a step back as if the envelope was a weapon, and not just a piece of paper. He runs his hands through his hair before slowly reaching his hand out to take it, but then he turns away, bracing his wrists behind his neck.
What the hell is in that envelope? I squint, trying to get a better look, but it’s so dark and I can’t risk getting caught.
I quickly take out my phone from my handbag. If I’m going to throw around heavy accusations I’ll need proof. Just to be sure. I crawl on my knees and elbows, closer, hiding behind the car’s flat tire, to at least record their voices clearer against the waves crashing in the Boston harbor. I turn on the camera then freeze. The flash goes off, illuminating two figures standing just a few feet in front of me. Fuck. I always forget to turn the stupid thing off. Wide-eyed, I watch as their heads snap in my direction.
I hear a muttered “fuck,” and get off the ground, instinctively starting to run toward the exit but by then it’s already too late. Someone grabs for my hair, halting my escape, and I’m confronted by George’s beady eyes.
“Traitor,” I whisper loud enough for him to hear, my pleading eyes darting toward a stunned Devon.
A sharp glint catches my eye as George raises his hand, and then everything goes black.
DEVON
For a second I just stand there, watching her petite body slump to the ground. Then I snap out of it.
“What the fuck?” I whisper-shout at George as I walk to where he's looming over her unconscious body. I lean down to check if she's breathing, trying to see if she’s hurt. I don't know if she took a hit to the head when she fell, but she’s not moving.
“Shit,” George says, pacing around her, the gun he hit her with still in his hand. “Shit, she must have heard everything.” Suddenly he halts his pacing and looks at me, squaring his shoulders. “You have to go, I'll deal with this.” He drags me up and stuffs the fat yellow envelope in my hand as if it's on fire, already pushing me toward the parking lot exit.
