Page 1 of Ruthless King

Prologue

Molly

Race you!” Twelve-year-old me was determined to win this time. It had become a fierce competition between me and my brother, Michael, to see who could reach the shoreline first. We, along with our parents, spent winter break at Mackinac Island longer than I could remember. Every year, when we arrived, the iced-over lake gave way to our frozen fantasies. Sledding and skating on the solid surface provided the excitement we both craved without the fear of disaster, considering its five-foot frozen depth.

Winter was, by far, my favorite season. I loved all seasons, but there was something about this time of year when the frosty air seemed to provide clearer breathing for my asthma issues. When I was diagnosed with acute asthma, my parents took the doctor’s advice and started vacationing each year on the remote Michigan island. Because winters in our hometown of Stone Creek, South Carolina, were milder than my respiratory system could tolerate, the family left home each year to spend the last two weeks in March on Mackinac Island. My brother hated leaving his friends, but he never begrudged me this trip. He would do anything to ensure I remained healthy and happy, even at his own expense.

As expected, my brother jaunted past me just before I reached the water’s edge. “Beat you!” he smirked, patting my head and sliding across the iced surface.

I could only blink my big green eyes as I watched the blur glide by. “Damn it, Michael.”

“Language, little sis.” He was only older by two minutes, but he never missed an opportunity to rub that in my face when I challenged him. I huffed out an exasperated breath and joined him on the ice. As close as we were, I hated he was faster and stronger than me. Everything was a competition where he was concerned.

We spent the next hour slipping and sliding from one side of the inlet to the other, never venturing past the frozen buoy our father had given us as a boundary. Finally getting bored, Michael coasted to the bank and grabbed the hockey stick he always brought. As he skated past me, I laughed but became distracted by something behind me. Turning around, I watched as a figure stood close by watching us. The boy looked to be around eighteen. Even though we were a dozen yards apart, his eyes seemed to look into my soul.

I had never seen eyes so dark. They were the prettiest navy I had ever looked into. His hair was dark, too, almost black, which made his eyes shine brighter. I stood hypnotized by this handsome stranger and found myself lost in his gaze. Suddenly aware I was staring, I turned away, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

I didn’t realize how mesmerized I was until a sharp sound brought me back to reality. It was as though I were moving in slow motion. I turned on the second loud crack in time to watch my brother disappear beneath the icy surface. I tried to scream but could not make a sound. When my voice finally caught up with what I was seeing, my piercing shriek echoed throughout the inlet. My legs felt like lead, and I couldn’t get the traction needed to move.

After a few panicked seconds, I was able to run toward the hole in the ice. Sucking in the harsh winter air, I gasped and was suddenly thrust into a full-blown asthma attack. I found myself on my knees, pointing to the spot just in front of me where Michael had disappeared. In my peripheral vision, I saw the stranger dash past me, stripping out of his parka and boots before he reached the area. I tried to stand, but my legs betrayed me and suddenly everything faded to darkness.

Chapter 1

20 Years Later

Molly

Club Max was unusually crowded for a Wednesday night. My best friend and former college roommate had hounded me until I gave in and met her for drinks. “Come on, Molly, loosen up a little,” Julia shouted above the rowdy crowd that had taken up more space around the bar than I felt comfortable with.

Finally getting the bartender’s attention, Julia ordered two gin and tonics and sidled up beside me. I graciously accepted the glass, took a timid sip, and winced at the quick burn I felt when the liquor slid down my throat. “Julia, when are you going to stop ordering this shit? It tastes like kerosine.” We both laughed as I took another sip, this one not as unfulfilling.

“Hmmm, what?”

I had Julia’s attention. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately. We only have a few days left before I have to go home, and I have spent most of our time together pissed off at he who shall remain unnamed.”

He who shall remain unnamed, also known as Jordan, was my ex-boyfriend. We dated seriously for three years before deciding I couldn’t handle his cheating any longer.

Julia’s eyes widened as her gaze locked on someone approaching my back. “Speaking of the cheating bastard.”

Spinning around on the bar stool, I stood, hands on my hips and green eyes blazing. I glanced at my friend, who was shooting daggers at the man in front of me. “I’ve got this.” Clearing my throat, I took a step forward but stopped short of making physical contact. “Jordan.”

I watched as the man standing before me took a ragged breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “Can we talk?” It had been two months since I last saw him. Something in his expression played on my sympathies, and, for the first time since the breakup, I trusted myself to have this conversation.

I lifted my glass and pushed past him, jerking my head for him to follow. He didn’t attempt to touch me, letting me lead us to a booth in the back, away from the chaos. I slid into one side, not making room for him. He cautiously slid into the seat across from me. From where I sat, I could see Julia at the bar, knowing full well the woman didn’t like that I was willing to give him the time of day. My eyes locked on her, and I could read her expression. I knew she had my back and would come to my rescue at a moment’s notice. I broke eye contact with a nod and turned my attention to the man across from me.

Before I could say anything, he spoke. “I want you back, Molly. I know I fucked up, and I want to do better. Please give me another chance.” I saw it in his eyes. The same expression he used the last three times he asked for one more chance, and I was fool enough to believe him. We had been together for three years, and the first two were amazing, but this last year showed his true colors. Colors I had no intention of sorting through.

“Jordan, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I cut my eyes back toward the bar and noticed Julia was engaged in conversation with several others around her. That’s just great. I could handle Jordan on my own if I needed to. When I looked back at him, something shifted in his eyes. Even when we fought, and I kicked him out of my apartment, he never looked as cold as he did at that moment. Flight or fight mode kicked in, and I knew I needed to remove myself from the situation.

He sprang from his side before I could move. Grabbing both of my arms, he pushed me as far into the booth as possible and pinned my body against the side, holding me in place with his muscular thighs. Although I struggled, I was no match for his six-foot-four-inch frame. “Jordan, I said no.” I needed an escape but didn’t want to cause a scene. In fact, it didn’t even register how loud my voice was over the riotous crowd. I tried to protest again, but his mouth crashed down on mine, his lips punishing. He forced my mouth open, assaulting me with his tongue.

I could taste the alcohol and knew he was probably drunk. How had I not noticed before now? He had always maintained control, even after several drinks, but this seemed different, and the wild look in his eyes answered my unspoken question. He was most likely high as well.

I wasn’t sure what happened. One minute, I was struggling to free myself, already fearing the bruises that would definitely make an appearance, and the next, felt his body violently jerk away from me. “I believe the lady said no, you piece of shit.”

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Jordan was whisked away from the booth, and a swift punch was thrown into his jaw, followed by one to his gut. In shock, I reached into my clutch, pulling out my inhaler. It took three puffs from the device before my breathing evened, and I was blinking back hot tears. In those few seconds, I recognized three things. Jordan had skulked away from the booth, Julia was hovering over me, waving a drink in my face, and the man who just moments ago saved me, stood, staring into my eyes. I suddenly had a feeling of déjà vu.

Then he was gone.