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UNHOLY CROSS

Deadly & Ruthless, 1

Beth D. Carter

Copyright ? 2025

Sample Chapter

A era Cross downed the weak-as-piss shot of whiskey the bartender had placed in front of him, grimaced, and immediately gestured for another. It was better than nothing, especially with the almost empty wallet in his back pocket. The crack of pool balls couldn’t drown out the godawful country music streaming from the speakers, matched only by the rednecks who were clearly the target audience. About thirty men were inside the bar, and Cross figured all of them combined probably made one complete set of teeth. Dentistry didn’t seem to be a worthwhile career choice in the small, Podunk town.

It was just about time to move on. Perhaps he’d head north for a bit to get away from all the local yokels. A feminine hand slid across his shoulders as a set of fake breasts pushed against his arm. He knew who it was, and it solidified his decision to leave.

“Hey, big guy,” the woman—Zara? Tara? Mara?—whatever her name, she spoke in a husky voice she must have thought sounded sexy. It grated on his nerves like nails on a blackboard. “I’ve missed that big cock of yours—”

“Stop touching me,” he ordered in a cold voice. “You won’t like how I remove your unwanted assets.”

“You know you want it,” she murmured, leaning closer.

There was a sour punch in her breath that caused him to jerk back.

“Did you just suck someone off?” he demanded.

Her eyes widened. “Uh...”

“Let me get this straight,” he sneered. “You want another fuck, but you hit on me with cum breath from another man? Get off me, bitch. You were a one-fuck chick, and it wasn’t all that great.”

She gasped at the same time a man walked up to them, anger sneering his face. The long scraggly beard did nothing to hide the acne scars on his cheeks. He wore a red-and-black checkered flannel shirt with the arms pulled off, and a dirty baseball cap on his head that boldly proclaimed I Pee in Pools . Cross figured he was the source of the cum breath.

“You insulted my woman, asshole.” He pulled a blade from his pocket and flicked it open. “I think if you give us enough Benjamins to overlook this insult, you can leave without me gutting you.”

Cross rolled his eyes. “You come at me with that switchblade and it’ll end up in your chest.”

The idiot snarled and charged forward, and Cross immediately struck, his fist connecting to the man’s nose, causing him to take a few faltering steps back. Clearly jarred from the punch, and while he was dazed, Cross grabbed the switchblade and plunged it into the asshole’s chest, just like he promised. The moron gave a little squeal of fright and pain, looking at the hilt of the knife protruding from his torso like a grave marker.

“Look at that,” Cross said with a grin. “I missed your heart. You better run off now to get that stitched up, and take your cum-breath girlfriend with you.”

The woman cried out and hurried to her lover’s side so he could lean on her as they left. It said something about the bar he was in that no one stepped in to say anything. Or called the cops. Most of the other patrons never looked their way.

Cross picked up his glass and threw back the shot. Suddenly, he caught sight of a small, nerdy-looking man slinking around the room. It was clear he searched for someone. Cross could envision little mouse whiskers twitching as the man scurried past people, ready to jump back into his mouse hole before being caught. His gaze clashed with the little man, and much to his irritation, the scurrying rodent made a beeline right to him.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Mouse Man said. He pulled out a white handkerchief and patted his forehead. “You didn’t tell me the bar’s name so I’ve been searching. I saw your bike outside, but I knew it was you when you punched that man in the face.”

“Listen, you have—”

“Yes! I do have your money.” He looked around and then slid over an envelope. “I know you said twenty grand, but I could only come up with ten. I had to sell my car, but I’ll figure it out.”

“You’ve got...”

“Here’s a picture of my daughter. They’re going to hurt her. Please take the money and rescue her. I promise I’ll get more.”

The picture the man placed on top of the envelope grabbed Cross’s attention, and he felt compelled to pick it up. The young woman was gorgeous. Messy honey-colored hair piled on top of her head with whisps framing her heart-shaped face. Guileless grey eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Lush full lips. Unblemished skin. An ethereal woman like her only existed in fairy tales.

“She looks nothing like you,” Cross muttered.

“She looks like her mother. Does that mean you’ll accept the ten thousand?”

It was clearly obvious that Mouse Man had mistaken him for someone else. Cross placed the picture back onto the envelope. The money was a moot point. He could take the money and lie. Leave town like he planned, ten grand richer. Yet, his gaze kept landing on the woman’s delicate face.

“She looks young.”

“She’s twenty.”

Figures , he thought sourly. Too young for his fucking ass. Yet...

“Who has her?”

He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but it rolled out of him without conscious thought. Mouse Man visibly relaxed, thinking Cross accepted the mission.

“Noble Vale Sanatorium.”

Cross frowned. “She’s crazy?”

“No.” Mouse Man looked around then leaned in close. “She’s special.”

“Special as in crazy?”

“Special as in ... g-gifted.”

Everything inside Cross froze. Vivi Wence flashed through his head, and how blissful it was having all the rage in his head cease even for a moment. He had tried to take her back, but messed it all up. After that, his life imploded. First, he’d lost his Heart of Darkness MC President patch. Second, he had almost fallen in the gauntlet he’d been forced to walk when the club kicked him to the curb. Had almost lost his life, and the demons in his head taunted that he’d be better off dead. The thought of suicide haunted him.

So, once he had recuperated, he ran. Trying hard to outrun his thoughts, he hopped on his bike and headed to parts unknown. Moving on when he felt it was time. And here he was, in another dive bar, drinking his way to an early grave. Maybe this woman was the salvation he desperately hoped for. Cross didn’t believe for one damn minute she was this man’s daughter, but now he was curious.

“Gifted?”

“A doctor by the name of Costello Birsha has her. He runs the sanatorium and he’s going to pick her apart trying to unlock her gift, but she’s too fragile to handle that. It’s going to destroy her. Please ... please help her.”

“What type of gift?” Mouse Man shook his head, but Cross grabbed his shirt and yanked him close. “What. Type. Of. Gift?”

Mouse Man shrank back as far as he could go. “Lorelei can h-heal people.”

He had a name. Lorelei.

Wasn’t Lorelei a siren who lured men to their deaths? Damn, if he wasn’t going to follow those poor assholes. He should probably walk away. He’d gone toe to toe with the fucking X-Men already and hadn’t come out the better. Yet one look into Lorelei’s eyes, and he knew he was going to find her. However, she wouldn’t be reunited with Mouse Man here because he intended to keep her. Call it divine intervention, or a moment of good luck. This was his second chance to claim a woman who could quiet the voices in his head, and this time he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him.

“I’ll find her,” he said, scooping up the envelope. Peeking inside, he saw a stack of hundred-dollar bills, and placed that with the photo on the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Mistaken identity might have just delivered his salvation.

End of sample chapter