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Prologue
Maddie
February 11th, Twenty-one years ago. Mrs. Schroder’s first grade class. St. Augustine Academy.
* * *
Erica just gave me a valentine Brayden made for me even though he’s not in my class. She saw him in the hallway at the water fountain a few minutes ago. He is so cute I could die.
“Hey Maddie, I brought the cupcakes. I got them because I know you like pink.”
I turn to find the new kid, Aidan looking at me with a face like a puppy that just caught a frisbee. His dad and aunt both disappeared in some creepy way all the other kids have been whispering about. Now he lives with an uncle. I wonder if his uncle will disappear, too. Maybe he will, and then Aidan will go to a different school.
“That’s nice,” I say. I want to talk to Erica about the valentine Brayden made. I don’t like Aidan.
“Did you like my valentine? I made it special for you,” Aidan says. He’s still talking to me. Oh my god. Why is he still talking to me?
Erica gives me a look, and I give her a look, but we don’t say anything. Why is he sitting at this table? This is a girl’s table. He’s the only boy here. Doesn’t he know that’s weird?
“Oh, was that from you? The one with the little drawing of two stick figures holding hands and all the glitter?” I ask sweetly.
He nods. Why is he looking at me? I’m going to tell one of the moms if he doesn’t stop.
I roll my eyes. “I have a boyfriend already. His name is Brayden, and he’s in Mrs. Hancock’s class. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be your girlfriend. You’re weird.”
I laugh, then Erica laughs. We sound mean, but this kid follows me all the time, and I don’t like it. I look up to see one of the parent helpers, a dad, looking at me with a really angry face. What? I didn’t hit Aidan. I just told him he’s weird. My mom said to use my words.
Also, this is what my mom calls a “teaching moment”. I mean he needs to know he’s weird. I’m helping.
Aidan gets up and runs from the room. I roll my eyes again and finish eating my cupcake. I do like the pink frosting.
One
Aidan
Present Day.
* * *
I have always known I would marry her. From the first valentine I ever gave her. Even if she couldn’t see it yet. Even if she couldn’t see me yet. Each year I knew with more and more clarity that this girl was mine, and nothing could ever break that fate.
My knuckles go white as I grip the steering wheel. My black SUV is parked about a hundred yards from Madison Prescott’s house, and it’s taking everything inside me not to get out of the car, rip the piece of shit she’s about to go on a date with out of his fancy red sports car and beat him until his brains ooze out onto the fine tan leather upholstery.
I take a deep breath and push this violent urge down. Maddie is going on a date tonight with Michael Whittaker… or Mike as his frat bros call him. He’s from what Maddie’s kind would call “a good family”, and I have no doubt her parents are trying to marry her off before the news spreads that the Prescotts are now destitute—courtesy of Madison’s father not paying his taxes for the last three decades.
The government has taken everything... down to Madison’s car, most of her jewelry and clothes, her father’s boat, the family vehicles… and now the house is up for sale. But the family has managed to keep their secrets thus far, claiming a job relocation. It won’t last though, and this may be their daughter’s last chance to marry well and set herself up.
She’s a virgin. Unbelievable, I know. Twenty-seven, and as beautiful as she is? Cheerleaders and sorority sisters tend to be the crop of girls who go wild, but not Maddie. It’s one part her extreme pickiness and standards, and then it’s also the various ways I’ve quietly stepped in and discouraged men from fucking what’s mine. Not to be be that guy, but the name Stryker does strike fear into the hearts of otherwise brave men.
The front door to the three-story colonial red brick opens and out steps a blonde, laughing Madison. She bounces like a shampoo commercial all the way down to the car. Mike has the top down so I hear him wolf whistle and tell her to get in.
I take another deep breath. This is their first date, and I’ve listened to enough conversations with her best friend during my surveillance to know that there is no reality in which Madison Prescott would fuck on the first date, or the third date, and by my observations, even the eighth date. She’s kept that V-card so long that it’s likely going to take a proposal to get it out of her. This is the last date she’s ever going on, so I hope she enjoys herself.
I wait until Mike’s headlights disappear around the corner to get out of my own vehicle. I straighten my black-on-black suit and take a quick look at myself in the glossy mirrored black paint of the SUV. I feel like a fucking monkey in this suit, but I like to make a good first impression, and suits in the criminal underworld exude power.
Albert Prescott knows my tailor. He’ll know how much this suit cost. And he’ll also know that his daughter is in good hands. Plus the suit covers up most of my scars and tattoos. Only a few are visible now. A black snake slithers up the side of my neck, and I have some smaller tattoos on my hands. A harsh scar runs down the side of one cheek ending just above the corner of my mouth—I got it from the first man I killed for my mother.
I considered going to a plastic surgeon, but it’s the one thing that makes me look less like my father, so I kept it.