Back To The Start Box Set: Five Full-Length Novels by Aly Martinez
“Mrs. Noir, we need to talk.”
I didn’t. I needed to get inside.
“I’m sorry. If you have something to discuss, please contact my attorney and make an appointment,” I called, tucking Tessa’s face into my neck.
She was oblivious to what was happening, more content to play with the small, gold chain at my neck—another of Walt’s “gifts”—but I still hated that she was involved at all.
“Clare, my name is Charles Rorke. I’m a detective with the APD, and I’ve spoken with your husband’s attorney more than I have my own wife this week. Your husband has refused to speak to us, so I’m here, attempting to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say.” I turned to walk away.
“Not even about the fact that Tessa might not be biologically yours?” he told my back.
Cops hated me. Well, actually, they hated Walt. And then me by association. But never in my life had anyone been crueler—and that was saying a lot, considering I was married to a man who beat me on a near daily basis.
But that, whatever angle he was going for, was scraping the bottom of the barrel.
“You son of a bitch,” I breathed, turning to face him. A surge of adrenaline made me strong—physically and emotionally. Taking a step toward him, I squared my shoulders. “You show up here to ask me a few questions while spouting shit like that?”
“I wish it were shit, Clare. But we’re investigating the possibility of criminal activity involving Peach City Reproductive Center.”
“Oh, screw you.” I started to walk away when the Earth suddenly crumbled under my feet.
“We have reason to believe that Walter Noir was involved in a situation that led to embryos purposely being switched in the lab!” he shouted at my back.
I froze, my legs nearly buckling.
A meteor could have fallen from the sky and I couldn’t have moved.
“Walter Noir was involved in a situation.”
Now, that I could believe. Walter Noir was involved in every situation, especially those that would hurt me. And this would rip the heart straight from my chest.
My nose began to sting as I desperately fought an onslaught of tears back.
I dropped the gym bag from my arm and shifted Tessa to my other hip. Then, cupping my hand at the side of her head, I covered her ears as though it could stop me from hearing it all.
“What?” I croaked.
His body slacked, and his voice softened. “I see he hasn’t mentioned our conversations to you.”
“What?” I repeated, tears finally breaching my lids.
“We need a DNA sample from Tessa, Clare. That is the only way we can prove this once and for all.” He took a step toward me before reaching out to give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
I didn’t back away. That would have required the use of my legs, and it was a miracle they were still holding me upright.
“What?” I repeated once again, like a skipping CD unable to move forward.
I was dazed, my mind frantically trying to keep up, when I saw the giant approach out of the corner of my eye.
“Back the fuck up,” he ordered.
I lifted my eyes and found Brock, one of Walt’s trusty henchmen, stepping in front of me. He must have arrived for “Clare duty” just in time.
“Walt won’t consent to the DNA, Clare,” the detective spoke around him. “We need this from you.”
“Don’t fucking talk to her.” Brock moved closer to Rorke.
The uniformed officers quickly reappeared.
“Not another move!” Marco shouted.
I couldn’t keep up. Someone had pressed fast forward while my mind was still stuck in slow motion.
“Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking do it!” Marco shouted while Brock issued his own angry orders at the officers.
“Put your fucking hands up!” was the last thing I heard before I felt an arm wrap around my stomach and begin to drag me backward.
“Clare!” Rorke called just as I heard, “Come with me, Clare,” whispered in my ear.
Luke.
And, finally, I crumbled.
My breath rushed from my mouth on a wail as I allowed him to pull Tessa from my arms.
“Shit,” he cursed, supporting the majority of my weight on one side, Tessa on his other as he guided us into the gym and straight to his office.
Safety.
He planted me in a chair then settled Tessa in my lap long enough to unroll a yoga mat and dig a notebook and a bunch of highlighters out for her to draw with.
I was so numb that I couldn’t even argue with him that I was okay.
There was no brave face anymore.
Tessa might not be your biological child, rang in my ears.
Once he had her settled, he crouched in front of me and finally asked, “What the hell is going on?”
The right answer was, Nothing.
The right thing to do was put a smile on, forget everything that had happened out in the parking lot, and go about the day like I hadn’t just been served the most severe beating of my life.
It was the safest thing for everyone involved.
But, for reasons lost on even myself, I threw my arms around his neck and spilled it all.
Luke didn’t hug me back. Instead, he kept both hands anchored to the arms of my chair as he balanced in front of me. I didn’t need the physical contact; I just needed someone to listen.
I was going to get him killed, but the words wouldn’t stop flowing from my mouth.
I told him about the drug trafficking.
Walt’s ties to organized crime.
The murders he’d made me clean up.
The money laundering.
The beatings.
The blood.
The fear.
The prison he kept me in.
And finally.
Tessa.
Why, after all the years of having kept it locked away, I chose to unload it all on a personal trainer, I’d never understand. But finding out that my only reason to wake up the next morning might not even be mine was the final straw.
After I’d told him about what had gone down in the parking lot, I fell silent.
The weight of the world still heavily rested on my shoulders, but the load somehow felt lighter. And, for the briefest of seconds, I took a deep breath for the first time since Walter Noir had walked into my life.
Luke didn’t immediately respond, and I couldn’t blame him.
Finding out the scum of the Earth was doing push-ups right under your nose had to be a hard pill to swallow.
After peeling my arms from around his neck, he placed them in my lap and rocked back on his heels. His blue eyes flashed to Tessa then back to me, his face steeled with confidence as he asked, “How can I help?”
Christ, he was a good guy.
I laughed through my tears. “You can’t. No one can.”
He opened his mouth to reply when a booming, “Where the fuck is my wife!” came from outside the door.
I jumped, and Tessa started crying. After shooting to my feet, I plucked her off the floor and prepared for the worst.
It was Walt.
The worst was all I ever got.
Chapter Nine
Elisabeth
“No,” Roman growled, slamming the door less than a second after he’d opened it.
“What the—” Kristen cried from the other side.
He glared at me over his shoulder, frustration floating in the air around him.
I couldn’t fight my smile back.
“Elisabeth!” she yelled, shaking the door handle in an attempt to get in.
I sauntered past Roman, using my shoulder to nudge him out of the way, and yanked the door open.
As if his sister were an axe murder, he stepped close to my back, protectively looping an arm around my waist.
It was then that I worried Roman could possibly be an axe murder, because if he thought he was claiming me like that after having pinned me to the
And what better way than with his sister at my side for his intervention.
Kristen’s mouth gaped as her eyes drifted down to his arm.
I grabbed his wrist and roughly removed it. “Hey,” I said casually.
“Dear God, did I hit a time loop?” Her gaze went to her brother. “Quick! What year is it?”
“Better question is what the hell are you doing here?” he sniped back.
She narrowed her eyes. “No. I believe the best question is how in the hell you were able to cross this threshold without Liz lighting you on fire.” Her gaze drifted back to me, her eyebrow arching in accusation. “I thought that was the plan if he showed up. Shit, Liz. Mom even bought the lighter fluid.”
I giggled because she was not kidding. Cathy Leblanc loved her son, and when shit had gone down with Roman and me, she’d made it clear she would not be taking sides between her “children.” But, the day after Roman exchanged our entire life for fifty percent of his precious company, she showed up at my door with a bottle of wine and a can of lighter fluid. About three weeks later, she must have had a change of heart, because she showed up with a bottle of wine and a fire extinguisher. “Just in case,” were her words.
Kristen impatiently cocked her head to the side, insisting on a verbal answer.
“Some things…well, happened today,” I stammered out.
Kristen was family, but I was in no rush to tell people about what had happened at the police station. We didn’t know for certain if there was anything to tell. It could have been some huge mix-up nothing ever came of.
Or it could have been some huge mix-up where Roman and I had another child—one who’d lived longer than twelve minutes.
My eyes closed painfully. “Oh God,” I whispered.
Roman’s arm once again folded around my waist, and this time, I didn’t fight. I swayed back against his chest.
“Uh, are y’all back together?” Kristen asked.
My eyes popped open as I declared, “No.”
However, just as quickly, I heard Roman say, “Maybe.”
I jerked from his hold on me and glanced over my shoulder. “What? No!” I insisted.
He shot me an arrogant grin then repeated, “Maybe.”
“Roman!” I yelled, all but stomping my foot.
He ignored me completely and turned his attention back to his sister. “What are you doing here?”
She was watching us with a wide smile that said she really liked the idea of Roman’s maybe.
Traitor!
Lifting a paper bag in the air, she replied to him, “Convincing her.”
“Ah!” he said in understanding.
I, however, was clueless. “Convincing me of what?”
They both ignored me.
“You gonna let me in or not?” she asked.
This time, our responses were reversed.
Roman quickly snapped, “No.”
While I replied, “Maybe.”
Her eyebrows shot up as she suppressed a laugh. “Maybe?”
“Depends. What are you trying to convince me of?”
She shrugged. “Nothing now. Seems my little brother is going to be doing his own version of convincing.”
Roman chuckled.
I swung a glare between the two of them that would have frozen normal people, but unfortunately, there was nothing normal about either one of them.
“No one is doing any convincing,” I declared.
“Okay,” they replied in unison.
That was a bad sign. A really fucking bad sign. It meant they were going to be secretly convincing, which was eleventy billion times worse than normal convincing, and it also guaranteed that I would ultimately be convinced, because I knew they wouldn’t stop until I was. It was the Leblanc way.
I cursed under my breath, which earned me a mouth-watering smirk from Roman and a sugary-sweet smile from Kristen.
I groaned and moved from the doorway to allow her entry.
She didn’t hesitate in accepting the invitation. “I brought sushi and wine.”
“Roman’s assistant is delivering gyros,” I smarted.
She stopped midway to the kitchen, cutting her gaze to her brother, and hissed, “Seth?”
Roman rolled his eyes before tagging the bag from her hand, carrying it to the counter, and unceremoniously plopping it down. “I’m not firing the guy.”
“You have got to be kidding!” she returned, charging after him.
“Wait.” I jogged to keep up. “This is Seth Seth? The asshole Seth who never called back, Seth? Seth the nice cock, all night long, Seth?”
“Jesus, fuck. Seriously?” Roman grumbled. “I don’t need to know that shit.”
“I thought we discussed this!” she told his back.
He got busy pulling the sushi from the bag. “You talked. I listened. But what I did not do is agree to fire a man because things did not work out with my sister. This being after I told my sister not to pursue something with one of my employees.”
Lasers shot from Kristen’s eyes, but Roman’s aura seemed impenetrable.
He lifted a pair of chopsticks in the air and asked, “Did you get extra wasabi?”
I swiftly stepped between the two of them, fearing a brawl in the middle of my kitchen. That brawl being a verbal one but no less messy.
“Okay, okay. Let’s chill out.”
“Where’s the lighter fluid?” Kristen questioned, glowering at her brother as he shoved a piece of sashimi in his mouth, completely unaffected.
A laugh sprang from my throat, causing all eyes to swing my way.
“I’m sorry,” I told Kristen. “It’s just…” I miss this. I continued to laugh and waved the rest of my statement off.
I glanced back at Roman and found him leaning against the counter, his weight resting on his hip, his legs crossed at the ankle, a smile showing on his chewing mouth.
Gorgeous.
And comfortable.
And so fucking right.
Oh God.
I kept laughing because it felt amazing for the first time in as long as I could remember.
Do not get used to this.
“Wine?” I asked through a giggle just as another knock came.
Kristen was immediately off and stomping to the door.
I started to go after her, fearing a brawl of a different nature, when Roman caught my bicep.
“Don’t,” he ordered, sliding an arm around my waist.
Chills swirled down my spine as he bent to whisper in my ear.
“Just because I’m not firing Seth doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole. He deserves whatever fury she’s about to rain down upon him.” His lips swept my neck, and regardless of what my mind was screaming, my body shifted into his side and my hand moved to the firm ridges of his stomach.
It was as though the connection completed a full circuit, because the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and a heat only Roman Leblanc could give me pooled between my legs.
One simple touch and I was ready.
I’d always been that way with him though.
After we ate our “beef” gyros, we strolled to my apartment, talking, laughing, and making out in every alley we stumbled across. By the time we’d gotten to my door, his hand was down the front of my shirt and I was exploring the hard planes of his chest.
My neighbors, should they have been up at three a.m., were going to get a show. But I couldn’t have cared less. Roman had that way about him. He made me forget the world around me. He was enough. And, together, we were everything. I knew that even though I’d only had him in my life for one day.
I’d laughed at his proposal. But maybe I was the crazy one for not saying yes immediately. It was wrong though; people didn’t get engaged on their first date.
If only I could explain why I so badly wanted to say yes.
“Roman,” I breathed, swinging
“Fuck. Me,” he murmured before laving his tongue up my neck. His mouth trailed kisses up to my ear as his husky voice rumbled. “So fucking ready for me.”
I was.
So fucking ready for all of him.
“Roman,” I moaned, tipping my head to the side to allow him better access.
His finger hooked inside me, sending a rush of ecstasy through me.
“More,” I pleaded, my head falling back as I struggled to stay on my feet.
His strong arm looped around my hips, keeping me upright. He removed his fingers and lifted me off my feet so I dangled inches off the ground as he sidestepped us into my apartment.
“Get the door, baby,” he ordered.
Baby.
I’d have done anything he wanted if it was proceeded with the smooth sound of baby falling from his lips.
With a kick, I slammed the door shut.
Suddenly, we were alone, and as his mouth sealed over mine, our tongues gloriously gliding together, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to open the door again.
His frenzied hands gentled long enough to lower me to the floor. My couch was mere feet away, but we hadn’t had the time nor the desire to make it that far.
His hard body covered mine, his hips falling between my open legs.
Then my shirt was off in a matter of seconds, and my skirt quickly followed.
“Fuck, Lis,” he grunted, sliding down my body. His finger curled in the top of my bra, tugging it down before taking my nipple between his lips. His warm tongue swirled and his teeth nipped, shooting sparks that rivaled any orgasm I’d ever had straight to my clit.
“Roman,” I moaned, arching my back and pressing more of my breast into his mouth.
He growled, the vibrations coaxing me closer to the edge. His hair was too short to thread my fingers through, so I palmed the back of his head, holding him as though he were attempting to get away. He absolutely wasn’t.
I lifted my hips when I felt the tips of his fingers start their descent down my stomach.
Our groans harmonized as he dipped his fingers between my legs and pressed in just enough to taunt me.
“Please,” I begged.
His head popped up to catch my gaze. “Given any more thought to that proposal?” he asked with a smirk that was all Roman Leblanc.