Broken Illusions (His Agenda Volume 3) Read online

  “I’m leaving for Mallorca in a few hours. Taking the wife on vacation. You were lucky to catch me.”

  He gave me a once-over and then his gaze returned to my face. He smiled, clearly pleased with what he saw.

  I had made an effort to look casual, but at the same time as if I had the money to afford a mansion like this. Thanks to my new black jeans, a white, collarless Armani shirt, a sleek Gucci bag, and metallic thong sandals, I was the picture of understated elegance. Around my neck I wore a diamond necklace from Stalford Jewelers—the gift I had bought myself when I got my first big check from shooting a celebrity wedding in New York.

  “I’ll need at least half an hour in the house, if you don’t mind. I like to get the feel of a house first… imagine living in it.”

  “Of course.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I have at least an hour to spare. Take your time.”

  I understood why he was nervous. The house had been on the market for two years. The people who had bought it from Jude before he died had moved out as soon as they found out about the crimes committed inside the place they called home. It must have been a shock when Leon’s body was dug out of the garden that now looked so serene and undisturbed.

  For a moment, I wondered if Mr. Loyd knew who I was, whether he’d seen me in the papers. Hopefully not. I looked different from the woman I was two years ago, with shorter, darker hair, and less fear in my eyes. The photos that had made their rounds in the press had been of a terrified woman whose internal scars were visible on her face. To some extent, I was still that woman, but the scars were a lot less visible now.

  “I’d appreciate that. It’s a beautiful house. Can you tell me why the previous owners left, and why no one has bought it yet?”

  He sucked in a breath and I felt bad for putting him on the spot. It was clearly a question he typically avoided, but surely I wasn’t the first person to ask. Why did I even ask him, when I had more answers than he did? Did I want to see if he would lie?

  He cleared his throat and pulled the keys from his pocket. “The previous owners moved abroad… hmmm… and well, the price tag on the house is quite high. Most people can’t afford it.”

  A lie. He wanted to get this house sold as soon as possible. But I wouldn’t be buying it, of course. I’d come here for closure. I wanted to step back into the past to make peace with it, in the hopes my monsters would let me go for good.

  “I see.” I kept my tone emotionless, my eyes fixed on his face. “Can I have some time in the house alone now?” I asked as soon as we entered.

  “Of course.” Relief poured over his features. “I’ll be in my car in case you have any more questions.” He said the last word almost in a whisper. Questions were not welcome, it seemed.

  I smiled and nodded. “I will.”

  He bounced off to his car, unable to get away fast enough from any more possible questions.

  When he left, I stepped further into the house. After all this time, the chill was still there—the sudden drop in temperature I used to feel every time I entered.

  My feet were leaden as I moved forward, my heart beating so hard I thought I might pass out. I was cold but I was still sweating, and a headache was creeping up on me.

  I managed to get as far as the flight of stairs, where I lowered myself onto the last step with my head in my hands, feeling as though something was wrapped around my lungs, squeezing them, cutting off my air supply. I tried to stand again, but my knees were too weak, and shadows of black danced in front of my eyes. If I walked up the stairs in this condition, I wouldn’t make it to the top without collapsing.

  I stayed seated for a while, then finally stood. I took my time, climbing one step at a time, holding tight to the banister. With each step I remembered my past here. The many times I had climbed these stairs on the way to our bedroom, praying that Jude would be asleep, that he wouldn’t want to have sex with me, to rape me, to torture me another night. I remembered the day he had dragged me up these stairs when he’d brought me back from Serendipity. I remembered limping up and down the stairs, in too much pain to walk normally after he had hurt me in the worst possible ways.

  I reached the landing and took small steps past many closed doors, toward what used to be our bedroom. My hand trembled as I pushed the wooden door open. The room was empty, but when I walked around it, I heard my own screams, his evil laughter, and his groans of pleasure as he pushed himself into me. I halted in the center of the master bathroom and closed my eyes as if I could block out the horror that way. But the sounds got louder inside my head.

  Then, amidst all the noise, I heard footsteps coming from the stairs. My heart almost exploded as I spun around, feeling him, hearing him, fearing him. On trembling knees, I walked out of the bathroom in time to see the bedroom door open. I almost collapsed with relief when I saw Loyd standing there, a confused expression on his face.

  “Are you okay, Miss Bradley? I heard screams.”

  I blinked several times, confused. Had I been screaming out loud?

  “Yes,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.” I looked up again and forced a smile even as a wave of hot humiliation swept through me. Did he see the horror mirrored in my eyes? Could he hear my heart thumping?

  “Erm… Do you want me to show you the rest of the house?”

  “Actually”—I cleared my throat—“I knew the previous owners. I visited once. They showed me around.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, looking both surprised and relieved. “Is that so? I thought…”

  “We lost touch. I wondered why they had left.” I paused. “I want to see a few other rooms. I’ll give myself a tour.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be downstairs.”

  There was only one other room I wanted to see. I held my breath as I went down the stairs and approached the room that used to be Jude’s office. The closer I came, the weaker my knees became.

  At the door, I halted and touched the cool doorknob.

  “This is it,” I whispered and opened the door.

  The room, empty of furniture, looked much bigger than I remembered. I crossed it and approached the wall that interested me, ran the palm of my hand along it, then pushed against it. It budged and gave way. Did the realtor even know this room existed?

  I stepped inside until I was right in the middle. It, too, was bare. The photos on the walls were gone.

  I took a deep breath. “I will no longer let you scare me. Jude Macknight, this is where I leave you.” I blinked back tears and then turned to leave.

  The realtor was disappointed when I told him I didn’t want to buy the house after all. But he lightened up when I assured him I would refer the offer to my wealthy friends.

  My drive back to Serendipity was permeated by an eerie calm. I had done it. I had willingly come face-to-face with the past and walked out alive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dustin was back from Dubai and I planned to prepare a romantic evening with a home-cooked meal. He would be moving in next week, so we needed to celebrate. Also, it was kind of an anniversary for us. For the past two years, we had celebrated the day we became a couple back in high school.

  Around eight, I went to my bedroom to shower and change. Dustin would be here at nine. Forget cooking. I would order in instead. I slipped into a red and black mesh babydoll lingerie dress with a matching G-string, and went downstairs in search of one of the takeaway restaurant brochures I kept in the kitchen drawers. I opted for a fancy new Italian restaurant.

  I reached for the house phone that hung on the wall. I hadn’t seen my cell phone since the morning. God knew where I had left it.

  As I dialed the number of the restaurant, I heard the faint sound of a key turning in the lock. My heart leapt. I had missed Dustin so much. He must have found his key.

  But damn, he was early. I had planned to be spread out on the couch, looking all sexy, with candles everywhere, when he arrived. My gaze flitted across the kitchen, searching for a nice spot to lean aga
inst or even lie on. No problem. I had to make it work where I was. I’d just hop up onto the kitchen island and rest my feet on the stools, one on each. He would get a perfect view of the goods.

  I heard his approaching footsteps.

  I snapped up the kitchen towel that stood on the island, attempting to get it out of the way.

  When I turned, my whole body froze. My mouth fell open at the same time the towel fluttered to the floor. My hand flew to my throat as I gasped for air.

  “Honey, I’m home.” A smile split his face.

  He looked different, almost unrecognizable. Half his face was smooth and looked the way I remembered, but the other half was bumpy and smudged and the eye on that side looked to be bulging out of the socket. No eyelashes in sight. His face looked as if it belonged to two different people.

  My own eyes felt like they were about to pop out of my face and my heart hurt with each heartbeat.

  He grinned. “Sorry I didn’t call. I thought it would be better to surprise you.” His gaze traveled down the length of my body. “Looks like you’re all ready for me.”

  He walked further into the room and I skirted around the island, my legs shaking, knees almost knocking against each other. “No.” I shook my head first slowly and then vigorously, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead. “No, you can’t…”

  “Be alive?” He looked down at his body, opened the top button of his black shirt. “This is all me, darling. I’m back. Did you miss me?”

  I reached for the nearest thing I could get my hands on—a pan—but before I could hurl it at him, he lunged for it and tossed it across the floor where it clanked to a halt.

  In the silence following the clatter of the pan, I heard the sound of the other shoe dropping.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Blood rushed to my head in a whoosh. I was so dizzy, I couldn’t hold myself upright. I collapsed to the floor, keeping my eyes on his. How could Jude be alive? How could he have survived the stabbing, the fire, the explosion? How could he possibly be standing in front of me?

  “You’re not real.” The words were separated by ragged breaths.

  He laughed, the sound raw and angry. “You thought I wouldn’t survive, didn’t you? You thought it was all over and you could start a new life with that home wrecker, Brannon.”

  I swallowed hard, wanting to respond, but my lips were trembling too hard.

  “You can’t get rid of me, sweetheart. Didn’t you get my letter?” He was nearing me now and my body screamed for escape, but I couldn’t move. I was glued to the floor by fear. “The letter I sent you two years ago, with a key to my childhood home? Remember that?”

  Oh my God. The note we all thought he had written before he died had been sent by a living, breathing Jude. He had been alive all along.

  “How did you…?” It didn’t matter at this point, but I had to ask, and I had to keep the conversation going to stop him from communicating with me in other ways.

  He stopped approaching me and pulled out one of the kitchen stools. He sat and laid the knife I hadn’t seen he was holding on his thigh. His damaged face looked disfigured as he smiled again. “I have a better question you can ask me. Whose remains did they find in the fire? Aren’t you more interested in knowing who died in my place? The cops did find a body in the barn.”

  “No…no it can’t be.” He didn’t need to tell me the answer because it hit me like a brick. “Nolan?” No wonder the cops couldn’t locate him. They were searching for a dead man.

  “He was a great brother. Useful till the end. I do miss him sometimes. But sacrifices had to be made for love.” He laughed for a long time, so hard his shoulders shook. Then he stopped as if a button had been pressed. His face hardened.

  “You know what kept me alive, Haley? I knew you didn’t really want me gone. You love me; you’re just denying yourself the truth. Your love kept me alive.”

  “Never,” I spat, the words shaking my whole body. “I wanted you dead.” Tears heated up my eyes. “You’re worse than a monster. And you’re delusional. You deserve to burn in hell.”

  He rose and charged toward me, his eyes blazing, then dropped to his knees in front of me and wrapped his hands around my throat, squeezing hard. I strained for breath as he dug his thumbs into the hollow of my neck. I clutched at his hands and raised my pleading eyes to his. His gaze bore right into mine, but I found no mercy there, only anger and disappointment. And hate. How was it possible for him to love me and hate me at the same time?

  I tried to talk, but only choking sounds came out. I lost my strength and my hands fell from his and dropped to my sides. My vision blurred. The only part of me left fighting was my mind as I felt the life slipping out of me. When I thought my end had come and my eyes drifted shut, he let go, shoving me back against the wall behind me.

  I opened my mouth wide and air whooshed into my lungs. I clutched my raw neck, which pulsated beneath my fingers, and gasped for more air, unable to get enough.

  He watched with lowered eyes.

  “I didn’t stay alive for this shit. Don’t mess with me.” He moved closer again and I shrank back with fear. “I know it’s too late for a life together, but I want what you denied me last time. I’m fully functional, baby.” He grinned. “You sucked at stabbing, by the way. You got the thigh instead of the masterpiece.” Even as he smiled, I detected the twitch in his jaw. He was furious. “I’m here to show you I can still fuck your brains out. I want your pussy for the last time, and then I’ll kill you and kill myself. Maybe we’re not meant to be together in this life. We’ll spend eternity together instead.”

  While I was still trying to digest his words, he lunged for me again and started tearing at my clothes, grabbing my nightdress on both sides and ripping it open so my breasts spilled out.

  His words had rendered me weak. I was unable to do anything but cry as he freed my whole upper body and then pulled my legs to him, my back sliding onto the floor. But when he wrapped his hands around my hips and drew me closer, I got enough strength to resist him pulling down my G-string.

  “Don’t,” I croaked. “Please don’t.” I reached down and hooked my index fingers into the elastic of my panties. As he tried to yank them down, I did my best to yank them up. The material was surprisingly strong for such a flimsy thing.

  “Stop being a bitch.” He slapped me so hard across the face that my head snapped to the side. I reeled for a heartbeat and then a scream burst out of my lungs. It gave me the energy shot I needed to start to writhe and thrash around, trying as hard as I could to stop him from getting what he wanted.

  He stopped but kept his hands tight on my thighs. “I guess you like it the hard way. Let’s have it your way, pussy cat.”

  He fell over me, the weight of his body crushing me, his breath hot against my neck, as he reached down to open his jeans.

  He won’t, I repeated inside my head. Someone will hear my screams. Dustin. Dustin was on his way. He would arrive any moment. He didn’t have a key, but he would hear my screams and break the door down or call for help. I screamed louder, fought harder.

  He stopped fumbling with his pants and clapped a hand over my mouth, pressed his mouth to my ear. “This is going to happen, whether you want it or not. You might as well enjoy it.”

  It was almost impossible for me to move. He grabbed the kitchen towel I’d dropped earlier and stuffed it into my mouth so deep I gagged as it scratched my throat. He shifted and removed something from his pocket. Something that let out a metallic sound. The handcuffs flashed before my eyes for a moment before he pulled my arms above my head, and then I felt the metal cool against my skin. My heart almost burst when I heard them click shut.

  “That’s better.” He kissed my cheek. “I brought those in case you chose to disobey me.”

  He reached for his crotch again and I trembled as tears slid down my cheeks and pooled into my ears. I jerked my head from side to side, unable to believe I had come full circle. That he was going to do this to me
again, when I’d thought it was all over.

  He shoved my legs apart and pressed his lips hard against mine—too hard, his teeth hurting me. Then he pushed into me.

  Just like that, the new world and life I had created for myself, the future I had hoped for, collapsed.

  PART II

  Chapter Twenty

  Jude

  It was all worth it. Everything he'd endured the last two years boiled down to this one moment of watching the fear swirling like a hurricane in her green eyes.

  She’d fucked with him; now he was fucking her. She had to know, had to know that no one messed with Jude Macknight and got away with it. Not even love stood in the way of revenge.

  It had brought him both pleasure and pain to watch her for the past months. He’d been studying her every move. He knew when she ate, when she slept, when she took a shit. He'd punched walls when he'd seen her inside Dustin Brannon's arms. The fury of betrayal had almost caused him to reveal himself sooner. But he was a patient man. He planned everything to the last detail. He had planned to walk into her life, not rush in like a moron. He was Jude Macknight, a powerful man. He took what he wanted when he wanted it.

  He drove deeper into her, traveling the familiar tunnel of her pussy, the pussy he had made love to even from a distance. He had fucked a lot of women in the last few months, women who looked a lot like Haley. Fucking and killing had become an art he had mastered.

  But the bitches had never touched him the way Haley had; they never reached into his soul. They had been mere pawns in his game, stepping stones to his ultimate destination.

  Now he was here with his wife once again. She should have known she would never outrun him and his love for her. He was a man of his word. He had meant it when he’d promised her forever. Now the time had come. They had a few hours together in this life, and then it would all be over.