Fury: Fierce, #1.5

By Clarissa Wild

This is book 1.5 in the FIERCE series, and it's a retelling of book 1 from Hunter's POV with lots of unique, previously undiscovered scenes!

Would you risk everything for love?

Life has held nothing but hardships for Hunter Bane. Growing up with a learning disability wasn't easy, especially when you're poor. With only his brother to support him, Hunter clings to the short moments of happiness in life. Like when he meets Autumn Blakewood.

Autumn Blakewood is a geek at heart. Reading is her passion, and she can't spend one day without her books. She's always locked up in her room studying, trying to avoid trouble. Until Hunter comes into her life.

Hunter can't resist the temptation to get closer to Autumn. She is his complete opposite, and yet he's drawn to her in ways he can't explain. But when his brother is caught dealing drugs and sent to prison, Hunter's world shatters.
To save his brother, Hunter has to join the gang he's feared his entire life. Now he's forced to choose between his family and the one girl he loves. Fighting for both, his fury is all he needs…

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REVIEWS

"I received this as an ARC and let me say I freakin' loved it. Hunter Bane is Smokin!! I don't often enjoy books that are purely in the male POV but this one was fantastic. Looking forward to more Hunter and Autumn!" -- Michelle N.

"I was looking forward to reading fierce but when I finally did I was emensly blown away." -- Azra

"OMG!!! I received an arc for an honest review. I started reading earlier today and couldn't stop. I loved this book. You really feel for Hunter, and how he tries to do the right thing. I thought I loved Fierce, but Fury is by far my favorite. I just loved hearing Hunter's side." -- Gwenny

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clarissa Wild
• Release date: Mar 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311677747

Book preview

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Prologue

3 years ago ...

My heart thrums as I roll the ball around in my hands. The rigged, dented surface skims the tips of my fingers. I stare at the basket suspended in the air in front of me, the hoop gently swaying back and forth with the wind. Leaves rustle across the ground, a cold breeze creeping up my legs, sending shivers down my spine.

The high-school grounds are abandoned, except for me and them.

I hear them whisper and laugh behind me. I don’t even have to look around to know they’re glaring at me. I’m hyper aware of my surroundings, but I don’t show it to anyone.

Not ever.

C’mon, chicken chaser. Throw the ball, one of them yells. We’re not waiting forever. You have one chance.

They all start to laugh out loud and snort.

Bet ya can’t even hit the basket, he says.

My fingers curl around the ball, my nails digging into the leather. I bite my lip to keep myself from screaming my lungs out.

Yeah, he probably doesn’t even remember how to do it! Strainer brain!

They laugh some more, and my nose starts to twitch, just like it always does when my blood is boiling.

Keep your cool, Hunter. Keep it down. You promised Jessie not to fight.

Suddenly a ball comes flying from my right, and it’s so quick I don’t even see it coming before it hits me in the shoulder.

It was one of them.

I hold my ground. My lip is getting torn. I bite down so hard I can even taste the blood.

Focus on the basket, Hunter. Just five more minutes. Jessie will come; he promised.

C’mon, do you want your lunch money back or not? one of them snarls. Make the freaking throw!

I blow out some air and raise the ball to form the perfect throwing arm. I can do this. If I can get it in, I’ll get that money back. Jessie will kill me if I don’t. I still can’t believe they actually managed to steal it from me when I wasn’t looking, but I can’t just go and take it back either. Jessie would definitely kill me if I started another fight.

As I’m about to make a jump and aim to throw the ball, one of them yells, You’re a pussy! Just like your mom. A fucking wet pussy for every guy to abuse!

The ball shoots from my hand, but I don’t even look at it anymore. I don’t know if it reaches the hoop or not. I’ve already turned around.

What did you say? I hiss, my mouth barely opening as the words slither across my tongue.

One of them backs away, fear oozing from his face.

My hands curl up into fists, ready to strike.

Your mother is a whore and you’re a fucking bastard.

That’s it. Screw the promise.

My fist lands on his face before he can utter another word. His teeth are knocked out the moment my fingers make contact with his jaw, and his body flies to the ground.

One other kid runs toward me, but I grab his arm and swing him against the fence like a twig, hearing his groans as he smashes into the bars like a ragdoll.

The other kids back away, stumbling over each other, while the two kids in front of me try to get up.

What the hell! the kid on the ground screams.

I step closer, fuming with anger. The kid near the fence makes a quick escape while I’m completely focused on this asshole.

Bastard! I told you! the kid on the ground yells, his spit missing me by inches.

I raise my leg and drop my foot right onto his balls. He squeals in agony.

Don’t you ever fucking dare say a word about my mother!

I pound in on him until my fingers start to bleed and my skin feels numb from the warm blood rushing through my veins. I’m seething. I don’t even care about the money anymore.

My mother … Nobody has the right to even mention her except me and my brother.

I don’t think the kid is even awake anymore by the time I’m finished with him.

Then I hear my brother calling.

Hunter!

My head jerks up, and I let go of my victim.

The moment I see his disappointed eyes I feel defeated.

Yet again I couldn’t keep my promise to make peace with the other kids at school. But how can I when they torture me so much? It’s like they want to be hit. Plain and simple.

I let go of his shirt, his head thudding on the ground when I get off him. I walk to the fence where Jessie is standing, and only then do I notice the car behind him.

Big. Black. Tinted windows. Scary.

But with each step I take, there is something much, much more disturbing than that car.

His face.

Botched up, covered in bruises, and bleeding from the nose, his face looks like a complete mess.

With trembling fingers I walk toward him, my anger slipping away and making room for horror. Every drop of blood leaves my face as I look at him.

What happened to him?

Seeing him like this frightens me. It shouldn’t, because I know what it’s like to be bruised and to bruise others, but it does. My brother is my rock. He is supposed to be the one who cannot be bruised.

And yet he seems broken to the bone.

Let’s go, Jessie snaps, and he opens the door.

What’s this? I say, pointing at the car.

New. Get in.

How the hell did you pay for this? I say as he grabs my collar.

Doesn’t matter. Just get in. He shoves me inside and closes the door behind me, frantically checking the neighborhood.

I sit back and watch him hurry to the driver’s seat, his behavior seeming erratic, almost volatile. As he slams the door shut behind him, he wipes away the blood running down his nose. He grabs a few cubes of ice from a cup standing in the cup holder and holds them against his scruffy, bruised chin.

What the fuck happened to you? I say, frowning.

The same thing that you just did to that other kid, obviously.

I snort, blowing off steam. Yeah, well he deserved it.

Hunter! he says, turning his head. You can’t keep doing this!

If they don’t stop talking trash about me, I will keep doing that!

He sighs. How can you expect to live like this? Huh? Do you want it to be like this forever? Punching people whenever you see fit? Without any friends?

I purse my lips and fold my arms. Like I care.

"I care. I don’t want this for you." He hisses from the cold touch of the ice cubes against the cut on his lip.

I don’t want this either. Just like you don’t want to look like that. I stare him down, knowing that he knows full well what I mean.

He throws the ice cubes back into the cup and runs his fingers through his blond hair. Then he starts the engine and drives off.

Why are you so banged up anyway? I say.

He rummages through a bag and takes out a pack of cigarettes. Like I said: doesn’t matter.

I want to snatch away the lighter in his hand, but he keeps it out of reach.

Just one. I need this, he says.

Annoyed, my eyes drift to the bag, which he throws to the back seat. In it are tiny bags of white powder.

My eyes widen. What the fuck … I turn my head immediately. Drugs?

He blows out a puff and coughs on the fumes. Just don’t look at it.

What the hell is that shit doing in here? What have you been doing? You pick me up all battered up, buy a new car out of nowhere, and you’re carrying a bag of drugs? You’re dealing now?

Yes, goddammit! He smashes the lighter into the dashboard. You know we need the money.

So that’s how you got the car … My brows inch toward each other more and more.

It’s on loan. Jessie leans his elbows on the steering wheel. Then he suddenly slams it. A fucking threat to make me stay.

What?

They trashed my old car and gave me this one.

My jaw drops hearing that.

It’s their way to keep tabs on me. To force me to work for them.

Why did you take it then? I say.

He slams the wheel again. Dammit! Do you think I had a choice? Of course not!

I put on my seatbelt. What about your job at―

Forget about that.

Wait, what? You can’t just shove that aside and do this instead! This is fucking dangerous.

I know! But this is the only way. This is what I’m going to do from now on, and it’ll bring in enough cash for us to survive. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll make it work. Somehow.

But what about our ‘normal’ future? I make quotation marks with my fingers. You know, the one we promised to each other.

Just stop, okay. I know what I said, you don’t need to remind me … He sighs. What’s done is done.

But―

Look at me! He frowns, tears welling up in his eyes, but they won’t run. They don’t want someone like me. When do they ever want anyone like us?

I open my mouth, but close it again. There’s nothing I can say. He’s right. He doesn’t mean the bruises or blood left on his body. He means us. Who we are. Nobody would want a guy with an explosive amount of energy and lack of concentration, nor would they want a guy that forgets everything he’s been taught.

Regular jobs are not for us.

But why does he choose this instead? Dealing drugs? Fighting people? Is that what our life is going to be like now?

That is hell.

I’m sorry, but this is the only thing I can do to make it work, Jessie says, starting the engine.

I know.

Let’s just go home. Fix you up. He tilts his head, looking at the bruises and swelling on my hand.

It’ll heal, I say. You on the other hand …

My brother throws me a half smile, and I can’t help but finish my sentence to cheer him up a little.

You look like you got brought back from the dead.

My brother snorts, and we both burst out into laughter as we turn around the corner.

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Chapter 1

Life and Leaves

Present

Shadows. That’s all I see when I open my eyes, waking up to the sound of silverware being thrown around. My neighbors are yelling at each other again, as usual. It doesn’t take much for their screams to reach our house.

Sun shines through the tiny window to my left, illuminating half of my bed. Dust particles float through the room and make me sneeze. Temporarily closing my eyes doesn’t help shut out the darkness looming all around me.

Nothing can.

My head hurts. I’m not sure whether it’s because I slept for about an hour in total, or because of those fucking people in their house merely ten feet away from ours.

Seriously, why can’t they fight at a more reasonable time? It’s getting fucking annoying listening to all that yammering back and forth, not to mention the times they even bring the cops into it.

I’d rather keep the cops far, far away from here.

And my brother, for that matter.

When they come he can’t be here. Not ever. If they find out what he does for a living, they’d … 

Fuck no, I don’t want to think about it.

Not even once am I going to let these neighbors get in between my brother and me. They can do whatever the fuck they want, but I’m sick and tired of them calling the cops on each other.

There’s only one thing I care about and that is keeping my brother out of trouble.

I honestly don’t give a shit about their relationship. I’d rather see them fuck off and move so I won’t be bothered by them anymore. I’m not the most caring type. I don’t care about other people’s problems, and I really don’t want to get involved in them. And with that I mean I don’t want to hear it.

Groaning, I shift my legs and let them hang out of bed, while my head rests on the sheets. I blink and sigh when they start screaming again, taking away the last shot I had at a little sleep. This is getting ridiculous.

I throw the musty blanket off me and step out of the creaky bed. I stretch and rub my eyes, walking toward the window. Leaning on the window sill, I scream, Shut up already! and slam the window shut.

I almost trip over my own clothes, scattered across the room. Sinking to the floor, I grab a bundle of dirty clothes and make my way through the hallway, littered with junk my brother left behind. I go into the bathroom and lean back so I can open the washing machine. It only partially opens, because the door bumps into the wall behind me. I wish there was another way to do this, but sadly there’s not enough room anywhere else in the house. This thing is just too big, and space is not a luxury we can afford.

My fingers drift across the note stuck to the machine as I read the words out loud: Use Tide Vivid White detergent for white clothes. Put it in a capsule and place it inside.

Right. I always forget what to put where and what type of detergent I should choose. Always happy with my notes. They make me remember what I keep forgetting.

I try not to think about that fact. Makes it easier to live with.

I turn on the washing machine and let it do its work while I turn on the shower. Having problems with a washing machine is normal to me. Just like many other things in life. I know it sounds ridiculous, but simple tasks can sometimes be very difficult for me to do. I don’t always know how to do them. There are some things I can’t remember, even when I did them only five minutes ago. Other things stay with me like they’re permanent marks in my brain.

And other times, I can’t remember something even though I’ve tried a gazillion times. It just won’t stick.

I don’t know why this had to happen to me, but it did, and that’s all there is to it.

All I know is that it’s not my fault, and that I can’t do anything about it. Both make me pissed.

I shrug the water off me and turn off the shower again, grabbing a towel along the way.

For a moment I stop drying my hair. My mind goes blank for a second, and it feels like there’s something missing, or something out of place. Something that I’m supposed to remember.

I hate this feeling.

Frowning, I throw the towel into the bin and walk outside. I snatch the last clean boxer briefs from my bed and hurry to get my clothes on. My eyes scan the room, looking for more notes, but there are none out of the ordinary. However, I’m sure I’m missing something.

I step into the living room, which is only a few feet from my bedroom. This house only has one floor. I know it’s not much, but it’s all we have. I’m just happy we can still afford a home.

It smells like fermented cheese in here, and for some reason my instincts tell me to inspect the couch. My brother’s always hungry late at night, if he comes home that is. He always eats cheesy chips while he’s half asleep on the couch.

I look around, but he’s not here, and I don’t find any crumbs tucked into the couch bedding. The usual stain from his boots is missing from the carpet, and I don’t see his jacket lying on the table.

Where the hell is he?

Sighing, I rub my index finger across my forehead. Dammit. He didn’t come home last night. Again.

Shit. How can anyone work for so many hours? It’s gotta wear you out. They’re using him like a workhorse. Not to mention the fact that it’s completely fucked up and dangerous.

I wanna drag him back home, but I know I can’t. What he’s doing right now, dealing, it’s vital. We need the money, and this is the only way to get it easily. We won’t survive without it. I won’t survive without him.

But I don’t want this to continue much longer. I don’t remember how long it’s been, but it’s been way too long, that I do know. Things should’ve been better by now, but sadly they aren’t, and I’m confronted with it every freaking day of my life.

Sometimes I wish I could find a job so I could help with our struggles, but Jessie insists I go to college instead. He says he knows firsthand nobody will hire guys like us. No way.

Not like this.

The only way is to earn a degree and hope for a better chance. I know for a fact he would be so much better suited for this, but he insists I’m the one who has to go there. Just the thought of having to sit in those benches and listen to those boring lectures for hours makes me cringe.

However, I’m not going to disappoint my brother. He wants me to do this, and I’m doing this for him. For us.

I walk into the kitchen and make myself some breakfast with whatever dry bread we have left. Then I discover a note I haven’t seen before hanging from the cupboard. It’s not my writing. I grab the note and read it.

‘Job. Back in 2 days. Will check up on u in college later. Jaret’s picking u up. Gl. Jessie.’

I wonder how long this note has been here, because I don’t remember reading it.

Must’ve forgotten.

A tiny smile forms on my face. I’m glad Jessie hangs these notes for me everywhere, or else I’d forget pretty much everything.

Crumpling it up in my hand, I take a bite from my sandwich and hear a car honking. Shit, Jessie was really serious. He got Jaret to pick me up?

Rolling my eyes, I grab my backpack and fill it up to the brim with the second-hand books I got and hurry out the door. Glad I already brought most of my stuff to campus yesterday.

Jaret’s convertible Mazda rolls down the street, knocking over a trashcan standing near the side of the road. He rolls down his window. Hey, dude!

Hey, I say, closing the door to my house. I make my way across the trash-littered stone path and try not to look at the overgrown patches of grass that look more like a swamp than a garden.

Where’s the enthusiasm, man? Jaret says, patting the side of his car. C’mon! We’re going to freaking college!

He yelps and yowls like an animal.

I shake my head and laugh. You’re crazy, you know that?

Damn right I am! And you know what else? I like it! I’m a chick magnet, that’s what. He lowers his shades and looks at me from underneath them, wriggling his eyebrows. You gettin’ in or what?

I walk around to the passenger seat and open the door. The smell of his aftershave drifts out of the car like a bomb that just exploded. I wave away the suffocating cloud as I sit down and throw my bag to the back.

What? Jaret says, holding up his hands, his eyebrows raised.

Dude … I say. It’s just college. Stop with the overload on aftershave, especially if you wanna bunk with me, or you’ll get me killed. I laugh it off.

Sorry, but I gotta smell nice for the chicks. You have to. Trust me. And God, wait ’til you see them. He bites his lip, chuckling. They’re not just regular girls, if you know what I’m saying. He spreads his fingers in front of his chest and makes squeezing motions. Chicks, man!

I shake my head again and laugh.

Jaret punches me in the shoulder. This is gonna be the time of our lives! Partying, smoking pot.

Never, I say, chuckling a little, even though I truly mean it.

I will never, ever, use that stuff. Ever.

Shit, you still worried about that? He raises his brows. There’s nothing wrong with working hard for stuff. I work hard. Look what I drive. He puts up a smug smile.

Just drive, will ya?

Hey, you’re getting a ride for free ’cause you’re Jessie’s brother. Not because you’re nice. Lighten up a little.

Yeah, yeah, I say as he steps on the gas.

Lighten up a little. Of course. I’ll just snap my fingers and turn cheerful, easy as that.

♥♥♥

When we arrive on campus I rush to get out of the car and smell some fresh air again. I’m feeling anxious just looking at that huge building. I can’t imagine myself studying. Not at all. But I don’t want to disappoint my brother, so I force myself to breathe out and relax. I can do this.

I slam the door shut.

Hey! Be a little gentle on her, Jaret yells as he steps out and treats the car like it’s fragile. What’s up with you anyway?

I chew my cheek and frown, not wanting to talk about it. I have enough on my plate as is.

What are you so worried about? It’s just college, Jaret says, leaning over the hood of the car.

I know, I grumble, throwing my backpack over my shoulder.

Then what … Oh … He sighs. It’s your brother, isn’t it? You’re still thinking about all that?

"I’m fucking pissed he lets them pull his strings. Yes, of course I’m still thinking about that."

Hey, we’re not that bad. Sure we deal drugs and all that, but at least we can make a nice living off it.

Like it fucking matters! Jessie keeps throwing everything away and then tells me to go and live my life like a normal person. It ain’t happening.

We’re both leaning on his car now, having a not-so-casual conversation about our fucked-up lives like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Your brother just wants the best for you. He’s in it so you won’t have to be, Jaret says.

I look down at the ground, feeling guilty, knowing full well why my brother is in this mess. He cares so much about me that he risks his life for it.

I’m grateful, yet I can’t stop feeling incredibly angry. There’s this uncontrollable fury raging inside me, and I don’t know what to do with it.

If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, dude.

I chortle and close my eyes. Oh, c’mon, are we on Oprah now? Don’t give me that psychological bull, please.

What? He raises his arms. My sister watches those shows like twenty-four-seven. I can’t help catching onto a few things.

I roll my eyes. Let’s just go. I’ve had enough time on the psych bench now.

Hey, Jaret!

There are a bunch of guys on the grass behind the parking lot, and they’re signaling him. Jaret briefly glances at them before turning his head back toward me. His lip twitches and he clears his throat.

Are those some of the guys from the gang? I ask.

Yep, they’re Alpha Psi all right, he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Introduce me.

What? he says, arching one of his brows.

I wanna know more.

Jaret sucks in his lips and frowns, his eyes skidding from left to right. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Just introduce me, all right?

Fine, he says, sighing.

I walk past him, but he pulls me back by the collar of my shirt. Wait.

He briefly turns his head to see if they’re watching, and then takes off his jacket.

What are you doing? I say, laughing.

He holds it up in the air. Put it on.

What? I’m not putting on your jacket.

Put. It. On.

No; why would I need yours? I got one back in our room. Did he forget we already brought all my stuff to our dorm room?

Dude, you look like a fucking pussy without it. Wanna meet the guys? Then you need this.

He presses the jacket firmly against my chest and waits until my hands have gone through the sleeves before he takes his eyes off me again.

Better. He smirks.

I roll my eyes and wince when I raise my arms. Did you rub your dick on it or something? Fuck …

Jaret laughs. You won’t get anywhere with flattery, now c’mon.

I lick my hand and run my fingers through my hair, making stupid faces at him. Do I look fancy enough now? I say with a fake British accent.

Jaret laughs out loud. Like a fucking sparkling rainbow pony.

I purse my lips to hold back the laughter. We walk toward the group of guys, and I try to keep my cool as they stare us down. They’re clearly not happy with me approaching, since their gazes primarily zoom in on me.

My muscles tense up the closer we get.

Hey, guys, Jaret says, breaking the ice.

Yo.

Jaret shakes hands with a guy twice my size. He’s covered in tattoos and almost rips his shirt just by moving. He briefly glances at me, and then back at Jaret, squinting.

Who’s this?

Jessie’s little brother.

I guess bringing my brother into the conversation is the safest way to introduce me. Great tactic.

Is that so? The guy ogles me from top to bottom like I’m fresh meat ready for the slaughterhouse.

Hunter Bane, I say, clearing my throat.

The guy smirks, nodding. You got some balls.

The size of rocks. You can trust him, Jaret says quickly.

The guy chortles. Sure. He raises his hand and grabs mine, squeezing it hard. Name’s Wes.

So you’re Jessie’s brother, huh? I’m impressed one of you managed to get into college, another guy sneers patronizingly.

My fingers curl. I try to ignore the comment, but my blood is boiling already. I can’t start a fight with the people involved with Jessie. I won’t let him get hurt, even if it means kissing their asses.

So, you got enough or you need some from me? one of them says to Jaret.

Jaret takes out a bag of white pills and briefly shows it to them before tucking it back into his pants. The guys start talking about the amount and type of drugs they’re carrying and who they’re gonna trade them with. I’m just standing there listening to their conversation like someone who doesn’t belong.

They’re so focused on the conversation that they’re completely ignoring me. It’s as if I no longer exist, but that’s a good thing. It means I can blend in and take their information with me without them even being suspicious.

My gaze drifts away as I try to be as inconspicuous as possible, and my eyes catch a glimpse of a girl whose skirt is halfway up in the air because of a leaf blower. For a moment I zone out completely, watching her curly brown hair swoosh up into the sky as she desperately tries to keep her panties from being seen.

Oh … but it’s already too late for that.

The corner of my lip quirks up when the blower stops and all that’s left of her is one giant mess. Her hair is coiled up, her clothes are wrinkly, and she’s covered with leaves. It’s hard not to laugh, and for a second I completely forget about the guys talking about how they’ve watched someone snort himself to death.

Her round, dark blue eyes skid around the