Page 1 of Bought (BOUGHT TRILOGY #1)

CHAPTER ONE

Erin

I can’t remember the last time I left my apartment this late on a Saturday night. The air slices through me like a blade; icy, sharp, and merciless. Each step I take echoes against the dimly lit sidewalk, reminding me I’m an outsider.

That I’m entering a world where I don’t belong.

And meeting a man that a girl like me is never supposed to cross paths with.

I think of Ryan, my shield against the fear. The image of his angelic face anchors me, reminding me why I’m out so late, walking alone down an unfamiliar street, and headed into the danger of the unknown.

Not for myself. For him. For them.

This deal could save us. And break me. I can only allow myself to focus on the first part. Otherwise, I’ll turn around and walk my popsicle-self right back home.

Cozy on the couch watching true crime mysteries with Cass instead of feeling like I’m living in one. The innocent virgin walks alone through the city, heading to meet a strange man. One who will surely ruin her.

My phone glows as I recheck the screen. I don’t need to. I know the address. I’ve stared at it so many times it’s carved into the back of my eyelids.

Fifteen Bachman Avenue.

My pulse kicks up as the phone rings, the sound loud and jarring. I fumble it in my hand, breath catching, heart galloping. I press it to my ear before the second ring ends.

“Cass?” My words are a breathless rasp. “Is Ryan okay?”

Her upbeat tone replies, “Depends.”

My heart stops. “What do you mean?”

“He’s taken my turn on the iPad and eaten all my ice cream. Didn’t you, Rye-Rye?”

Peals of his laughter come over the phone.

Instantly, I relax. “Don’t let him stay up too late.”

Cass fakes a sigh. “Okay, but it’s Saturday night! We can sleep in tomorrow.”

“Still…a schedule is best.”

“Hang on, Rin.”

“Okay.” Clutching the phone, my eyes dart around the street. I’m not used to being out this late.

I hear Cass in the background, asking Ryan to take her ice cream dish to the kitchen so we can talk.

“We’re totally fine, here,” she whispers. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”

“I’d be a hell of a lot better if you hadn’t made me watch that Manson Murders documentary last night,” I hiss.

My eyes shift to the dark alley on my left, scanning for hidden serial killers.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad!” Cass laughs. “I’m just warming you up for the Ted Bundy one.”

I murmur into the phone, “Why do you insist on watching this rubbish, when we’re living our own nightmare?”

“Everyone else seems to have a white-picket love story. Crime shows make me feel less alone.”

I instantly regret teasing her. “There were no white picket fences where we come from,” I remind her. “We’re not the Royals.”

“I guess you’re right,” she whispers.

“I know I am,” I confirm. “Happily Ever After doesn’t exist for girls like us.”

A silence hangs between us. A pregnant pause that’s been surfacing between us a lot lately as we both reflect on the hell we’ve endured.

And the risk of what I’m about to do.

Finally, she asks, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah. Course I am.” Am I? I’m really scared right now and freezing. I force confidence into my words. “I’ll call you right after.”

“K.”

“K.”

The hollow pause comes back, conveying everything left unspoken…

We have no options left. This is it.

I want to tell Cass I love her, but the words won’t come out. Our family doesn’t show emotions. Feelings are weakness. And in the forgotten corner of Northern England where Cass and I are from, weakness gets you killed.

Parts of this city are no different.

Locking my phone, I grip it tight, my only weapon against Ted Bundy II.

I need to succeed tonight. Everything depends on this meet-up. My future, Cass’s future, and most importantly for both Cass and me, Ryan’s future. I pull the coat even tighter to soothe myself.

Remembering my current read, the one that tells me to demand from the universe what I want, I murmur to myself, “It’s a simple plan. Tonight will go perfectly?—”

Something dark darts across my path, and I’m going down. My heart lurches into my throat. I grab the wall, stopping just short of falling flat on my face.

I steady myself, my hand going to my chest. “Okay…what was that?”

Instead of Charles Manson, a small, scruffy, black dog looks up at me from beneath a thick, tangled fringe, as if I’m the one who disturbed him.

Sympathy tugs at me.

“I’d love to take you home,” and feed him, bathe him, brush those knots from his fur, “but Cass is allergic.”

Giving me a dismissive sniff, he scurries off down an alley.

I turn the corner, finally reaching Bachman Avenue.

My feet stop. So does my heart. I stand, staring. The area is nothing like I remember. Where are the stores, the jewelers, the beautiful people? The historical brownstone buildings, the thick gates to keep us out?

The block is…gone.

Just gone.

If an entire block of buildings was wiped out of the Upper East Side, wouldn’t there have been a news story about it?

But these are the Bachmans. They value their privacy and can buy whatever they want.

I’d been told about the attack, but I never imagined the damage would be such complete devastation.

I want to turn around, go home, and not get more involved than I already am.

My phone screen lights up. Cass and Ryan’s faces smile back at me. I need to do this. I know I can.

Everything will be okay...

My words don’t convince me, but still, I press on.

A man with a bald head and a thick, tattooed neck stands waiting for me. Not the refined mafia boss I’m here for. This guy is meatier, harder, even colder-looking than the person I’ve come here for.

His gaze has me prickling with chill bumps, as he seems to take in every hair on my head, each inch of my body down to the toes of my high-heeled boots.

This man has a look I don’t like, and he’s still staring at me. Something about him finally convinces me I can’t do this.

The last thing my desperate little trio needs right now is for me to become a plus one for the city’s homicide rate.

I turn on the heel of my boot, quickly moving back the way I came.

Bootsteps. Behind me. Coming fast.

My heartbeat races to match the thumps hitting the sidewalk as they follow me. Am I overthinking this? Glancing behind me, I see him reaching out for me.

My stomach lurches to my throat. Run. Fast.

“Wait!” he shouts. “Erin.”

My heart stops before my feet. Why does he know my name?

Out of fight or flight, I choose freeze.

I slowly turn back to face him. My whispered words are carried off by a cold gust of wind. “How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you.” His intense gaze locks onto mine.

I steady the rising fear from creeping in. “Why are you following me?”

He gives me a grimace. He must think it passes for a grin. What he says next sends a river of ice rushing through my bloodstream.

A gold tooth flashes. “There is no Fifteen Bachman Avenue.”