Love You Forever: The Mountain Siege Series

By Olivia Night

Hunter Kincaid, detective with the Asheville PD, has two goals. Take down the Ridgeliners and keep himself away from Sophie Callon. Both are dangerous, but for very different reasons. A perpetual player nicknamed Catch, Hunter tries to keep his life simple.

The Ridgeliners, a criminal organization, swept into his town a few months ago bringing a wave of crime. Now, teens are overdosing at alarming rates. As a lifelong resident Hunter will do whatever it takes to remove the organization from the place he calls home.

Sophie Callon has spent the last year healing, emotionally and physically, from the night she told her boyfriend, Darren, it was over. Nightmares riddle her nights but Hunter invades her dreams.  However, Sophie has no interest in being involved with a man who so callously runs through women.

But when Sophie's ex-boyfriend is released early from jail with a new allegiance to the Ridgeliners, things get complicated very quickly.

Sophie is kidnapped and Hunter is faced with all the things he had tried to ignore. Hunter will stop at nothing to get Sophie back from the clutches of a violent, evil man. Even if that man has an entire criminal organization at his back.

Love You Forever is a heart-pounding tale of forgiveness, vulnerable hearts and a love that will last an eternity.

           

• Language: English
• Publisher: Olivia Night
• Release date: May 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386860167

Olivia Night

Olivia Night, a fictional character herself, has always been an avid reader and writer. She found the romance genre in college and has never been able to get enough. One sleepless night, the main characters of Book One in her The Men of FTI  series sprang from her head fully formed. They demanded she tell their story; so she did. As they revealed themselves, so did two other intriguing characters. Those characters convinced her to give them their own books because their stories were worth telling too. And so Olivia suddenly became a romance author. When Olivia is not writing, she has the best job in the world, which, too, will remain a secret. In her free time, she reads, writes, runs, or is, most likely, out emulating Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Olivia lives in one of the most diverse and vibrant cities in the U.S.—Baltimore. She lives with her cat, which she is convinced was a gladiator in his past life. Olivia plans to continue being awesome at this thing called life. Really, that’s her only goal.

Book preview

Prologue

One year ago

Asheville, North Carolina

She blinked.

Everything was blurry.

The room was dark, the lone window showed her that night had fallen. Shadows played along her walls as a car drove past. It illuminated the kitchen, but only briefly, and her eye that was open couldn’t track it.

Sophie inched her hand up the tiled floor to her face and lifted it to try to wipe away whatever was keeping her from seeing clearly. Trembling, her hand fell limply to the ground. Her one eye opened again and her gaze shifted to the floor.

Her hand was covered in blood.

A panicked cry erupted from between her swollen lips, and as it did she felt more blood dribble out the side onto the floor beneath her cheek.  Slowly, she reached her uninjured arm up and tried to grip the floor with her palm. Her slick hand couldn’t find purchase.  The tiny movement sent a shot of pain through her side. It was overwhelming, and it burned a path across her ribs so that she wasn’t even able to curl into herself.

Tears began to leak from her eyes as she took a fractured breath. She lay crying on the floor for long minutes as the pain washed through her body, and left in its wake a throbbing ache. Unable to take a deep breath she sipped in the air shallowly until her lungs were filled.

Again, she gripped the floor and pulled her body from where her position on the floor. As she successfully moved a few inches her face slid over something sharp. Stopping, she moved her good arm under her cheek to move the piece of glass, or whatever it was, from her face. She gripped it between her two fingers, and then brought it to her line of sight.

She was holding a tooth. Hers.

A low moan of disbelief turned quickly into panic. She was unable to stop the strangled howl that came from her throat. Sophie curled up on her side and felt the blood seeping from her mouth and face to collect in a pool on the floor.

Clutching the tooth in her palm she moved her useless arm to help her inch across the kitchen floor.  In front of her she saw her table on its side, the legs splintered. Two chairs were tipped over just a few feet away. If she could get to one of them she might be able to use it for leverage.

Between her tears, her blood, and one good eye she couldn’t see the rest of the room. She couldn’t be sure where he was. Or if he was standing idly by watching her now. She felt chills sweep over her body, and she was paralyzed with fear.

Sophie stopped her movements and tried to quiet her moans. She heard nothing. Not the ticking of her antique clock, not her TV in the living room, not his breath.

Nothing.

She moved her gaze around to every area it could reach.

Sophie took a shallow breath and again tried to move across the floor. Her arm gave out in a shockwave of pain. So violent, so overwhelming that she tilted her face down to the tile and threw up.

Gingerly, she lay her head back down on the cool floor and avoided the mess she’d made.  And there, clutching the parts of her body that didn’t hurt, she cried silently while she waited.

Chapter One

Present

Asheville, North Carolina

Hunter sat at the bar sipping his beer. The blond next to him had her hand on his thigh, and was leaning in so he could get a clear shot down her shirt. He’d met this particular chick two nights ago. He had been ready to take her home that night, but he’d gotten a call out from Cooper, and had to leave before the evening culminated in a way that would leave both of them happy.

So he did what he didn’t do a whole lot. He called her and asked her to dinner. Now, here they sat having after dinner drinks, his date having made it clear she wanted to go home with him. And he’d happily oblige.

She was aware of what this was, and he got the impression she didn’t mind in the least. In fact, he’d be willing to say he’d met his female equivalent. Which meant this could be a whole lotta fun.

She squeezed his thigh. Hunter looked over to her. She flashed a blindingly white smile at him. He shook his head. She needed to dial the whitening strips down a notch. Still, she was easy on the eyes. Blond hair, good skin, pretty blue eyes.

Her eyes were nothing compared to Sophie’s though. Hunter tried to put the thoughts of her from his head, but was unsuccessful. That damn woman.

He hadn’t seen her in more than a month, and he was beginning to feel like an addict going through withdrawal. Especially because the last few times he had seen her she hadn’t given him the time of day.

And, of course, she was beautiful. Long, raven black hair, pale smooth skin, and incredible eyes that pulled him in to the point he didn’t want to be released. Deep blue and filled with intelligence. And a fair share of snark as well.

With his reputation, one he could give two shits about, she’d made it known she wanted nothing to do with him. But, Hunter wanted everything to do with her. He’d found out as much as he could about her without crossing the line into stalker territory.

Sophie Callon was born in the small town of Lillington, North Carolina.  Small as in a couple thousand people. From what Hunter could see it was a quiet, beautiful, and quaint place to grow up. She was also one of the rare folks that had both a mother and a father growing up. Her mother had stayed at home until Sophie entered middle school, and her father worked in Raleigh as a bus driver.

Sophie came to Asheville when she was accepted to the University of North Carolina. She majored in Literature and minored in Business. She was incredibly intelligent, and pulled a four-point-o average all four years.

Her one mistake had been meeting Darren Sharve. And that was something she’d paid for a little over a year ago.

Hunter had done more research about Darren than he had Sophie. He wasn’t sure why she affected him as she did, but Hunter didn’t question it. Darren Sharve had put her in the hospital. He’d seen pictures of the scene.

Blood everywhere. Vomit. Two teeth on the floor. He’d found the pictures taken of Sophie in the hospital. Broken ribs, broken cheek bone, teeth missing.  The room—her kitchen—had been virtually destroyed. Not a glass, not a chair left untouched. Based on her account she was lucky he hadn’t gone for one of the knives within his reach. Hunter shuddered at the thought of someone as ethereal as Sophie being wiped from the world.

It was enough to make any person’s blood boil. But him...it sent him seething, and direct to Marion, where Darren was doing his time.

Hunter asked around and found that Darren was, in fact, making good behavior, as Cooper had thought was the case. This meant he would be released early. The state hadn’t decided when, but Hunter had a finger on the pulse of that situation at all times now.

He barely knew Sophie but he knew he’d kill that motherfucker if he came near her again. No woman, no person deserved that. And seeing her swollen face, the dried blood, her missing teeth? Well, it unsettled him in a way that told him she unequivocally had a pull on him that no other woman had. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her to sleep beside him every night. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her there, and be the one who made sure Sharve never touched her, never came near her again. And what was more—he wanted, with a visceral need so intense it shook him to his core, to make sure no other man took that role.

She was dangerous. More dangerous than any woman he’d ever met.

Sophie was nothing short of a firecracker. She was quietly fiery, and owned a bookstore, The Forgotten Syllable, that she filled with fiction, historical biographies, and poets like Octavio Paz and Pablo Neruda. She gave him a run for his money with her retorts, looks, and not-so- veiled references to the nickname he earned in college.

And she was never going to give him the time of day.

Not that he really wanted her to. Cooper had been right—what she needed, what she deserved, was not what he could give. His ex had made sure of that.

Hunter watched as his date leaned forward and brushed her breast against his arm. Her hand rubbed his thigh in a blatantly suggestive way. He looked over to her and smiled.

You ready to get out of here? Her eyes were on his and then she licked her lips ridiculously but got his blood stirring nonetheless.

Pushing the beautiful woman he wanted from his mind, he smiled back at the one in front of him, and then motioned to the bartender for their check.

HUNTER SCOWLED UP AT his partner. Cooper had been floating on air the last few days and his happy go lucky attitude was annoying as shit. Not that Coop didn’t deserve it. Because he sure as fuck did. But if Cooper smiled at the sight of their massive pile of files one more time Hunter was going to smack him upside his head.

The mountain of papers sent in from Savannah that lay before them had to be scoured with a meticulous eye. This meant hours upon hours of work were in front of them. But still, Cooper smiled.

Hunter, not able to help himself, shook his head, rolled his eyes, and smiled at his partner. Cooper was getting ready to propose to his girlfriend. Or, technically, the girlfriend, Emma, that was still his wife. It was a bit of an odd situation.  A few more days and the ring would be ready. He’d was getting the ring she’d worn for several years as his wife refitted and cleaned.  Nothing could put a damper on that.

Sighing, Hunter stood from his desk and stretched his sore muscles. Cooper looked up from a random file he’d grabbed.

Lunch? His partner asked.

Hunter, hands still up in the air, nodded. Fuck yeah.

Cooper grinned, closed the file, and stood.

What, your little lady didn’t pack you a sack lunch with a note inside?

Cooper threw a wad of rubber bands at him as he taunted.

Hunter reached down, grabbed his shoulder holster and jacket, and made his way out of their cramped as shit office to weave in and out of the pen.  Conversation in animated voices drifted over him as he walked through the overcrowded area. Cops didn’t like to be cooped up in tight spaces. And they hated paperwork even more. So they whiled away the time by making fun of each other, telling stories about each other’s moms, and other stupid shit that usually made him smile.

He felt Cooper on his heels and he turned to ask his partner where they were headed when the Captain stepped directly in his path.

Hunter stopped and frowned.

Got a call out for you boys. Usually these words didn’t bother him. But at that particular moment his stomach was caving in on itself.

Goddammit, Hunter muttered as he took a proffered slip of paper from his boss.

More Boone? Cooper asked as he stepped up next to Hunter.

Captain nodded, and then added, Pretty sure. Need you fellows out there to look for signs of homicide.

Fuck. His partner growled as he began to throw his shoulder holster on.

Fuck was right, Hunter thought an hour later. This shit wasn’t pretty. It never was.

Hunter sighed as he came out of his crouch. Overdosing on Boone was an awful way to go. He could safely say this and know he was right, considering he’d seen a fuck ton in his time on the Asheville PD. 

But this shit, this was a parent’s worst nightmare.

Hunter shook his head as Cooper came back around from the other side of the scene.

Getting real tired of this shit being out on the streets.

The poor kid had definitely OD’d on the new drug in town. Boone had hit Asheville a few months ago, and since its arrival there had been six OD’s. The dead kid in front of them made un-lucky number seven. There was no evidence of a homicide. It was a pretty straightforward overdose. Still, with the Ridgeliners in Asheville he and Cooper had been sent out to a number of scenes just to be sure.

The Ridgeliners, a new and fucking secretive criminal organization had made their way into Asheville at the same time as Boone. Or rather, the PD had seen their first murder and ODs that could be directly attributed to the organization around the same time. The word on the street was the leader, Cyrus, had arrived in town just a few weeks ago.

But this Cyrus, whoever the one-name fuck was, hadn’t made an appearance. No one even knew if Cyrus was, in fact, a guy.  Hunter wasn’t a misogynist, or a sexist for that matter. In fact, he loved women. All sorts, all shapes, all races, creeds.  But statistics pretty much dictated that Cyrus’ was a guy.

Cooper came up to Hunter’s side and tilted his chin toward the scene.

Hunter shook his head and frowned. Put the age anywhere from sixteen to nineteen. No track marks, nice kicks. Nice jeans. Fresh haircut.

He stared down at the impossibly young face now covered in vomit and blood.

No tats, no weapons, Cooper added.

Wallet?

Cooper shook his head. Someone worked him over before we got here. His belt is gone.

Hunter felt his jaw harden. Yeah, because we need someone fucking with this scene.

Cooper sighed. Thankfully it’s not our scene.

Hunter tilted his chin in agreement.

What do you think?

He shook his head as his eyes drifted over the stiff form. Young kid. Too much time on his hands. Got a mom and dad at home somewhere.

Why do you think that?

Hunter shifted and motioned toward the kid’s hands. A kid doesn’t have calluses unless someone at home is making him do hard work.

Cooper nodded and looked down at the kid. I hope Emmy doesn’t know him.

I hear you.

Hunter felt Cooper clap him on the shoulder.

Still hungry?

Fuck no.

Cooper gave a humorless laugh. We got a pile of intel back at the Pen with our name on it.

Hunter took a deep breath and sighed. Yeah. He gave the victim one last look before he tossed a chin lift to the officer in charge of the scene.

I fucking hate these guys, he told Cooper, referring to the ‘liners.

I hear you.

The Ridgeliners had swept through the south like wildfire. They set up shop in numerous cities, and once they were there it spelled disaster. Prostitution, drugs, and guns all came to town with the ‘liners. Although he and his partner were homicide detectives they’d inadvertently been thrown in to the shit storm through a series of events. Now, they worked side by side with the other divisions. This was firstly to try to get a handle on the ‘liners, and the shit they spread around like Christmas cheer, and secondly, to keep the bodies from piling up in their city. He didn’t envy the guys in Narcotics or Vice. He imagined they saw little sleep. Knowing there was a powerful gang slithering around the under belly of the place they called home probably lent itself to sleepless nights.

Hunter had been born and raised in Asheville. His mother, Antoinette, had died four years ago. Right around the same time his marriage had as well. His mom was an artist, and had made a successful career from her creations. Over the course of his childhood her tastes and the forms of her art had ebbed and flowed. Oil botanical paintings shifted to acrylic landscapes. Pottery led to sculpture, and after a failed attempt at photography, her interest went to installation.

She had named him after his father. Not that the man’s name was Hunter. No, he didn’t know who his father was. His best guess was he was a drifter. His mother claimed the brief time they’d spent together his father hunted for their food. Her artistic mind put a dramatic spin on them living in the forests of the Great Smokey Mountains, and that his father hunted day and night for their sustenance while she was free to gather and make her art. Her best work of art, according to her, had been him, her son.  

Although her head lived in the clouds, and her focus was always on what she was creating she had been a loving mother. After she’d had him, also in the cabin, she’d moved down into town and found a one-bedroom apartment. They’d stayed there until he was old enough to need his own space.

Toni, as she preferred to be called, had created her art in the tiny corners of their home, and she had made enough to keep a roof above their heads. She’d worked part time at a local photo print maker, when there was still need for those, and took pride in developing others’ memories.

But when it came to his father, the man had entered, and then quickly exited Toni’s life. His mother had never seemed to mind. She said that when their time had been up they both had parted on loving terms. It was a few weeks later she learned she was pregnant with Hunter. And his mother hadn’t blinked at parenting alone. She was aloof, floating through life with a wide smile and an attitude that things would always have a way of working out. And many things did. Her cancer, well, that didn’t.

Still, she was creating and revising her art in the days leading up to her death. He had stayed by her side those last few days, and had held her hand when she left her body.

She’d left behind very little, and when he had been cleaning out her studio apartment he’d hoped to find something to point him in the direction of his father. As it were, he found nothing.

His mother had always joked that Hunter had overcompensated in the absence of a father. He’d played the role of son and man of the house since he’d been able to talk according to Toni. And he couldn’t disagree with her assessment.

He had always been fiercely protective of his mother, and had learned at an early age that he soaked up information. So when something needed fixing he grabbed a book and figured out how to fix it. When heavy things needed to be lifted, he’d figured out a way to lift them. When oil needed to be changed on her secondhand Datsun he was under it.

She might have made fun of it, but when he’d accomplished a task he’d see the love beaming in her eyes. She’d touch his nose and tell him, My Hunter. He always finds a way.  

As he got older he found football and his place on the field. As a tight end he trained and lifted and grew. He’d never asked, but he imagined his dad wasn’t a tiny guy, and his mother confirmed this once as he came trudging in after a particular brutal practice. She had murmured, You look so much like him now.

The town had treated him well. It had treated his mom well. This was his home. And he’d be damned if some assholes with a hunger for money came in and tried to capitalize on their kids and their women. So just like Narcotics and Vice, he wasn’t getting a whole shit ton of sleep either.

The group had been quiet since they’d moved in, and this could mean a few things. They were still in the planning stages, they were planning their businesses to come in staggered, or they were trying to let the steaming pile of shit, a local Matthew Compard had left for them, cool off. Hunter would bet it was probably a bit of all three.

And the Asheville PD was putting everything they had behind finding these guys and bringing it all to a stop before the train got rolling. However, they were finding ODs, but not the dealers, rumors of a stable but no ladies of the night, and an organization with a faceless leader.

It was frustrating as shit. He liked puzzles. Shit, he was a detective, he had to. But this wasn’t a puzzle. This was a hide and seek in plain sight. And one thing Hunter did not like was being made a fool.

So while Cooper lay in bed with his arms around his lady love, Hunter lay in bed with his arms around files. He was going to figure it out. There was no other option acceptable to him.

Chapter Two

Sophie darted away just a second too late. His fist hit square in the center of her back. The force knocked her to her knees. Before the pain could register her hair was grabbed. She was pulled to her feet and dragged her to the living room. Sophie whimpered for him to let go, and brought her hands up to try to pry herself loose..

Darren yanked harder and she lost her footing. She tried to calm her mind. Breath, just breath.

She was yanked up violently and thrown on the couch.

His red, blotchy face came into her vision. She couldn’t hear what he was saying as his hands come up and grip her neck.

Done fighting, her head began to shake like a rag doll.

Sophie sat straight up in bed, a strangled scream emerging from her throat. Chest heaving, she lifted her hands to her throat.

Nothing.

She opened her mouth and took a slow, shaky breath, and then just as slowly let it out. Exhaling, she closed her eyes and got herself together.

Now, after more than a year, she was a pro at this. She was used to the nightmares. Still, she cautiously looked around. Reaching out she hit the table lamp’s ‘on’ switch. 

Light flooded her room and illuminated every nook and corner. Slowly she ran her eyes over the walls and floor. When she knew for certain she was alone she again inhaled deeply.

Comparatively speaking, this one wasn’t a doozy. Sometimes, when she woke, she was drenched in sweat screaming at the top of her lungs. Other nights she would wake to find that she had thrown herself out of bed.

Tonight, she was dry, and still in bed, so yeah, it wasn’t too bad. The side effects were present though. No matter how bad or how mild she was always the same afterward. Wired, shaky, and wide awake.

Sophie turned to look at her clock. Three forty-four. Not an ideal time to get up, but not early enough that she could force herself to lie back down and try to find sleep. She tossed the blankets aside and got out of her bed. She was going to have to try to fit in a power nap. Tonight, she had plans with the girls.

Padding quietly to her dresser she found a pair of flannel pants. It was early December and the weather had turned a few weeks ago. Really, she’d be cold if it was below seventy-five so she would have grabbed pants no matter what.  Closing the drawer, she stopped and shimmied into the comfortable pajamas. Then, leaving the light on behind her she made her way down the hall and into her kitchen. She flipped every light switch along the way.

Making a beeline for her coffeemaker she checked that she had set it all up the night before. Her mind wandered back to her nightmare but she forced it away by walking to her couch and picking up the book she’d been leafing through last night. A book she always liked to leaf through; The Secret Garden. 

Sophie sat and placed a throw over her legs as she waited for the percolating coffee to draw her back to the kitchen. She cracked the book and began to read. One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever...

But only moments later her mind went back to her dream. Well, not her dream. Darren. In the quiet of the night, when she was alone, she thought of him. If he was still angry with her. If he would try to contact her when he was released. Maybe he would move.

It was hard not to think of the man she had spent four years with. The thoughts she had were not loving ones. But they were often confused. She was ashamed to admit it, but what had happened between them had been so textbook. It so clearly followed the cycle a person learned about in health class.

But when she was in the midst of it all she couldn’t see the forest for the trees. To be honest, she couldn’t see anything while it was happening. Her thoughts were consumed with him.

For a long time, Sophie thought Darren was the most stubborn man she had ever met. That was before things had changed. But as they did she came to realize it wasn’t stubbornness that kept him from being a partner who could compromise or acquiesce to certain things. No, she discovered he had some sort of ... psychological flaw, for lack of a better word, that kept him from recognizing when he was wrong. It was as if there were some roadblock in his head that caused him to believe he was incapable of being wrong. Darren was confident his perception was reality, and all others and their views, no matter how valid, were wrong.

This had grown exceedingly frustrating for Sophie. She had loved him. Loved him with everything she had. But as their relationship became something else she started to struggle to hold onto the love she felt.

And then it all came crashing down around her. There was no catalyst she could point to, no single event that had occurred. One night they had been arguing. He had cut the night short. They’d been out eating and having a drink and Darren had gone to use the restroom. A few minutes after he’d left his stool a man plopped down on it and began to talk to her. She was shy by nature so she found it difficult to converse easily with strangers. This man had been no different. Sophie had smiled politely and declined the offer of a drink.

That was it. That was the night things had turned a corner. But still, the single slap across the face was the easiest she had gotten off. And almost as if mocking her intelligence, the cycle of abuse had been so clear.  

It steadily got worse, and the time between each episode grew shorter. It grew so short that in the end it was nearly a daily a occurrence. And somewhere along the line she had stopped loving him. She felt bad for the people who still loved their abusers. It had been hard enough leaving Darren. If she still loved him she might not have been able to leave. And she might have wound up dead.

When things were calm she could see the reasons she had fallen in love with him. He was kind, he was thoughtful, and went out of his way to tell her he loved her every day. He had been all of those things when they met at twenty-two. That never changed.

But when things got bad he transformed into a monster. She could see him coming, the monster, before Darren did. It filled her with dread and hate and fear. It was the hate that stayed with her like a bad taste in her mouth. Hate was such a heavy thing. It weighed her down. She despised him for that, for sparking hate in her.

It was also that hate that spurred her to fight back. It pushed her to stay standing. To not back down. It wasn’t smart, it wasn’t safe. But hate didn’t produce logical emotions.

Darren had liked the challenge she hadn’t meant to pose. And he was more than willing to rise and, unfortunately, conquer.

It wasn’t until she told her friends what was going on that she realized she was prisoner to a vicious cycle and needed to break out. She needed to get out before she was irrevocably changed by him and what was happening. Before the hate took over.

Leaving him had taken nearly a year. And in that year things had grown so bad she was afraid to sleep beside him at night. There were times when she thought she might not wake up the next morning. That final day, the day she had done it, had been the worst day of her entire life.

Sophie heard the music of her people—the coffeemaker beep—and tossed the blanket aside to make her first cup. As she passed her coffee table she hit the ‘on’ button for her TV. Although she was not a big fan of sitting in front of it she was happy to see, at this hour of the morning, Dean Winchester’s gorgeous face looking back at her.

Darren had occupied enough of her time today and it was only four a.m. She refused to give him the power to control her day. So she padded over to the kitchen, got her cup of coffee, and settled in with the demon hunting brothers.

WHAT’S UP, HOOKER! Callie called to Sophie from across the bar. Pack’s was...well, packed as Sophie made her way through the crowd. Emma had gotten there early so Sophie was happy to find they had a bar high top table.

Hey guys, Sophie greeted and nodded to everyone as she laid her clutch on the surface. She watched as Cooper stood