Queen of Hearts Read Online Free Page A

of comfortable avoidance. He hadn’t pushed for me to move in with him again, or even mentioned it for that matter. He somehow understood that I needed time to figure out my issues.
    I used that time without him. I dug deep and ticked off all the pros and cons, analyzed my reasons for running off after my dad and Vince died, and came to terms with my decision to stay with him as long as I had.
    My conclusions weren’t easy to take.
    I was a coward and a liar. Simple as that.
    Jack had become my cushion; my tiny, dilapidated motel room became the fortress that held my demons on the outside. The small town was a Mecca for all the things I thought I was missing out on and wanted in my life.
    But it wasn’t. It was as solid of a trap as my previous life had been. I’d fallen into the same pattern, only with a different outcome. I’d settled on a dismal job because it was easy, a hole-in-the-wall motel because it was cheap, and a false relationship because it fed my insecurities and my fear of being alone.
    I still had no idea where I fit in. I still wondered where I belonged, what I wanted. That mask I’d donned for as long as I could remember was still strapped to my skull, embedded into my skin with a grip so tight I thought I’d suffocate.
    Coming to terms with the cold, hard facts was a blow for sure. I knew I would eventually go back to Vegas. It was inevitable. I wasn’t sure I’d stay, but I had to return and deal with the aftermath of what had gone down: the death of my family, the deceit from Flynn, my business, and most importantly, to face the ghost that wouldn’t leave my mind.
    Doyle Maguire.
    That man had to pay, one way or another.
    I could picture that rat bastard sitting on his throne with a big shit-eating grin on his face, satisfied that he’d taken us down.
    He had, to an extent. My father withered and died at his hand, he’d chased me off, and taken everything Vince had, including his life.
    He was in for a surprise. I still had some fight in me. The more I pulled back the curtains to look through the window of my mind, the stronger I was. I was tougher than I gave myself credit for, and running off with my tail between my legs wasn’t my style. I’d slithered away, snuck off with the excuse of starting over, but in reality, I’d never stood my ground the way I should have.
    It was time to bolster the courage to take the jerk to war.
    ~~***~~
    T he paranoia I’d lived with made me hypersensitive to sounds, and the familiar click from my rickety door jarred me out of sleep.
    I knew it was Jack, even though it was unexpected. He’d spent less and less time with me at the motel, choosing instead to go home instead of staying over. I understood. I missed him, but I got it. He needed to put some distance between us while I got my shit together.
    Sleep addled and dizzy, I rolled over and reached for the lamp. The dinosaur of a clock radio read three a.m. What was he doing at three in the morning?
    “What are you doing here this time of night? Everything okay?”
    My hand had just reached the base of the lamp when someone shoved the lamp off the nightstand, where it crashed to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
    Immediately I was wide awake and scared to fucking death.
    A tall figure stood at the side of my bed, and I scrambled to the other side. Yanking the blanket up to shield myself, I wracked my brain for a way to escape. It was futile. There was nowhere to go in that room. I was trapped.
    “Stay away,” I cried. “Don’t come any closer.”
    My instincts disappeared. Out the window. I couldn’t even find the urge to scream. My throat was clamped down tight, pinched closed. My eyes watered as I tried to squeak out the feeble threat.
    Ignoring my warnings, the man moved toward me and grabbed my ankles, pulling me closer. His hand clamped down over my mouth, and then he lifted me up into a sitting position. My screams were muffled by his hand pressing down so tight. My throat