2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Mae

Life hasn't always been perfect, but I've made the best of what I have. I've spent most of my life alone with my brother, which hasn't been easy. Our parents died when we were young and Patrick did his best to raise me, but I know he's gotten himself into a huge mess financially. It's why a few years ago, I left the double-wide trailer we shared and moved to the other end of the island. I even changed my last name so my brother couldn't find me.

The last thing I wanted was to get caught up in his bullshit. I love him, and I love everything he has tried to do for me, but there comes a time when family isn't good for you and sometimes you have to cut ties. Blood doesn't always mean loyalty. It can be toxic and kill.

And I won't die because of my brother's poor choices.

Now, is my life better on the end of the island?

No.

I'm just a waitress trying to make ends meet. I didn't have the money for school, so now it's just about survival. Ian Roulette owns the entire island, and everything is expensive. My rent is half my paycheck and I barely have enough for food.

It's exhausting. Sometimes I wonder if I'd finally have peace if I just ended everything.

"Mae! Order up. Stop fucking around and do your job." Joe, the owner and the cook of Island Joe's, bellows from the kitchen. "Get your cute little ass out there and give people their food."

I swallow the words I want to say and remember I need this worthless job that barely pays rent. I wipe the sweat off my brow, wishing this shithole had air conditioning.

"Sorry, Joe," I say meekly, grabbing the plate with a Cuban club sandwich, and take it to table two.

"Don't be sorry. Just move your pretty little ass and get to work."

I stare at him through the window, my stomach curling when I see his fat belly hanging from his dirty, sweat-stained white tank top as he flips a hamburger on the grill.

I hold back the tears and turn on my heel, careful not to slip on the tiles that are slick with grease since Joe never cleans. I plaster on a smile and walk towards table two. Angela had already brought their drinks out for me because I needed to take five minutes to myself, but it looks like they haven't touched them.

"I'm sorry about the wait." I smile again, placing the plate down in front of a guy with a big scar on his cheek.

The other has a newspaper up, blocking his face, but my eyes flicker to his Rolex watch and the fine thread of his tailored suit, to the gold cuff links on either sleeve.

What's a guy like this doing here?

He puts the paper down, revealing himself, and I gasp sharply.

This must be the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. He has perfectly cut dark brown hair parted to the side, smooth skin that's clean-shaven, and a defined jaw with firm lips.

It's the eyes that throw me off.

They are lifeless, piercing, so epically blue, I shiver.

"Does he always speak to you like that?" he asks, staring directly into my eyes as he speaks.

For some reason, I feel the need to look down. The power rolling off him is intimidating.

"Sweet Mae, don't ever look away when someone talks to you. You never show weakness. Ever. Now, look at me."

I do, but my eyes widen when I realize he knows my name. "How do you know me?"

"Don't change the subject yet." He takes a sip of water and crinkles his nose.

It's Island water. What does he expect?

"Does he always speak to you like that? Answer me quickly, Mae. I'm not a patient man."

I swallow and glance over my shoulder to Joe.

"Don't look at him. Look at me." His hand wraps around my wrist and a dangerous energy zips down my spine causing me to hold my breath. "Mae, I won't ask again."

"Yes," I whisper. "He always speaks to me like that."

"Has he touched you?" His voice deepens, a menacing tone I've only ever heard in movies.

"Touched me?" I try to tug my hand away from him, but he only tightens his hold.

"Has he dared to touch you?" His lashes lift as he stares at me through hooded eyes.

I shake my head, feeling like I'm backed into a corner. My entire body begins to tremble in fear. I don't know who this man is, but I have a feeling whatever reason he is here, it can't be good.

And he knows me.

Which means, if he is here for me, it's because of my brother.

"Don't lie to me, Mae." He stands up, towering over me, and I have to tilt my head all the way back to look at him. He wraps his hand gently around my throat and leans in, his masculine scent clean and refined. "Has. He. Touched. You." He grits out and his eyes dart between mine, waiting for me to answer.

I nod. "Wh—Why? Why do you care? I don't know you." The words are a stutter as I do my best to speak to him.

He gently pushes me aside and the other man stands, gripping me by my arms, but just to keep me in place. His touch doesn't hurt.

"What is going on? What do you want?"

He unbuttons his blazer and pulls out a gun, cocking it, the silver metal gleaming in the sun.

My eyes widen. "You're going to kill me? What did my brother do?"

His brows lift in surprise. "Beautiful and smart connecting the two, Mae."

"No man like you ever comes to these parts. If you know my name dressed like that, then my scum of a brother has done something."

"Everyone out!" he yells, and everyone must feel the dominance rippling in waves because no one asks questions. They stand, some even taking their plates.

The door dings repeatedly which has Joe stomping out from the kitchen, arms raised. "What the fuck? Mae, you better have a reason—" he turns to me, only to see a gun pointed in his face. "Mr. Roulette."

I inhale sharply again, a new fear coursing through me when things start clicking into place. Ian Roulette, the ruthless casino owner and smuggler.

"Joe. It's to my understanding you don't treat Mae very well." Ian presses his barrel between Joe's eyes. "I don't like how you speak to her. And I'm under the impression you've touched her too."

"Oh, come on, Mr. Roulette. Look at her. She's gorgeous. I mean, I gotta pass the time. You understand."

"How have you touched her?"

"Mr. Ro—"

He cocks the gun. "How?"

"I've slapped her ass a few times. That's it. I swear." He holds up his hands and sweat drips down his temple.

Ian laughs, which causes Joe to laugh, and my stomach turns sour. God, I'm going to die. This is it. My brother somehow got involved with the most powerful man on the planet and now he's gambled with my life. That has to be it.

I should have known running from my brother's issues would catch up with me.

"A man should never touch what doesn't belong to him. Now, apologize."

"What?"

"What?" I echo Joe's shock in response.

"I said—" Ian leans in, nose nearly touching Joe's –"Fucking, apologize!" he shouts so loud, I can see the vein throb in his neck and I flinch.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mae. I didn't mean—"

"You meant it," Ian corrects him.

"I'm sorry for everything I've done, Mae." He licks his lips, fear shining off the pores of his skin. He lowers his head, knees quaking, and he falls to the floor, the gun still pressed against his temple.

"It's okay, Joe," I say, and Ian turns to look at me, those piercing blue eyes zeroing in as if I'm his next target.

"Sweet Mae. It isn't okay."

The gunshot causes my ears to ring and blood sprays across the floor. Joe's body crumples, his eyes still open and I witness his pupils blow wide.

He's dead.

Ian killed him.

"What—Wha—Why?" I begin to panic. I just saw a man die. I'm going to die next. I know it. I'm not one of those girls who have their defenses up to protect themselves. This isn't a movie. This is reality. "Please—" I beg, tears beginning to spill down my cheeks. "Please, don't kill me. I don't know what my brother did, but I'll do anything. Please—" I don't care how pathetic I sound. Most people will bargain for their lives.

His fingers are slick with blood, sliding under my chin, and he lifts my head, forcing me to look at him. "I'd never kill you, Mae. Your mine. I'll only ever give you what you need."

"I don't understand."

"You're coming home with me, Mae. You're mine now. That's all you need to understand."

Why the hell does that sound more terrifying than death?