Wounded Hearts: A Fortis Security Novel Book 9 (Fortis Security Series) Read online

  Wounded Hearts

  Fortis Security Book 9

  Maddie Wade

  Contents

  Untitled

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Sacrred Sunrise

  Books by Maddie Wade

  Contact Me

  Untitled

  Wounded Hearts

  Fortis Security 9

  By Maddie Wade

  Published by Maddie Wade

  Copyright © 2020 Maddie Wade

  Cover: Envy Creative Designs

  Editing: Black Opal Editing

  Formatting: Black Opal Editing

  This is a work of fiction. Names characters places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as fact. Any resemblance to actual events organizations or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook onscreen. Except for use in reviews promotional posts or similar uses no part of this text may be reproduced transmitted downloaded decompiled reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical now known or hereafter invented without the express written permission of the author.

  First edition March 2020 ©Maddie Wade

  Acknowledgments

  I am so lucky to have such an amazing team around me without which I could never bring these books to life. I am so grateful to have you in my life, you are more than friends you are so essential to my life.

  My wonderful beta team, Greta, and Deanna who are brutally honest and beautifully kind. If it is rubbish you tell me it is and if you love it you are effusive. Your support means so much to me.

  To the ladies of Words Whiskey and Wine for Woman, you are my crew and I love you.

  My editor—Linda at Black Opal Editing, I learn so much from Linda, she is so much more than an editor, she is a teacher and I love you.

  Thank you to my group Maddie’s Minxes, your support and love for Fortis, Eidolon and all the books I write is so important to me. Special thanks to Rowena, Tracey, Faith, Rachel, Carolyn, Kellie, Maria, Greta, Deanna, Rihaneh and Linda L for making the group such a friendly place to be.

  My Arc Team for not keeping me on edge to long while I wait for feedback.

  A big thank you to Itsy Bitsy, and all the bloggers, authors and friends who promote my books and help others to find my books. Without you I would not be able to do this.

  Lastly and most importantly thank you to my readers who have embraced my books so wholeheartedly and shown a love for the stories in my head. To hear you say that you see my characters as family makes me so humble and proud. I hope you enjoy this Drew and Mara as much as I did.

  Prologue

  The light blinked on the answer phone and he knew before he listened who it would be. His father was going to visit his mother. Drew felt his stomach turn knowing his mother would spend hours primping and preening, getting all dolled up to please the man. It never ceased to amaze him how, despite the way Marcus Preedy treated her, his mother worshipped him. Running to do his bidding every time he clicked his fingers.

  Drew was tempted to erase the message before she saw it but knew there was no point. It was her life not his. He let out a sigh as he moved towards the kitchen, his appetite now lost. He should be grateful Marcus left him alone for the most part, only checking on him once in a while for abilities or special gifts and making sure his grades were good—after all, he was paying a pretty penny to make sure he’d the top tutors educate him.

  At fourteen, Drew felt years older than other kids his age, not that he got to meet many. Marcus didn’t want him associating with other kids. He spent his time on his computer and more recently, he’d started to burn hours in the garage with a punching bag his mum had bought him.

  Training on the bag allowed him to free his mind and purge the anger he felt towards his mother and father. Although father was an exaggeration, he was more of a sperm donor or sponsor at best. Willing to spend the money on him but never the time, and certainly never the affection. Drew was a commodity and one that was lacking, as Marcus told him time and again when he’d failed to show any abilities. He wasn’t like the sister he’d never met.

  Lauren was special, she had gifts, but unlike his mother, hers had whisked her away from the cold and calculated Marcus Preedy. Hid her so she was never subjected to tests and rules as he was.

  Drew loved his mother, she was his mother after all, but he couldn’t ignore his anger that she loved Marcus more than she did him. It wasn’t childish jealousy though, it came from the fact that no matter what Marcus did to him—ridicule, beatings, cruelty—she never, not once, stood up to him. He was second place at best and always would be.

  In the quiet of the night he liked to imagine that Martha had been his mum and that he and Lauren were full siblings. That she’d saved him like she’d saved her daughter.

  Drew heard the door behind him open and his mother’s excited intake of breath when she saw the light on the answering machine flashing to indicate a message. She knew what it meant too.

  “Drew, go clean up, your father is going to visit.”

  Drew watched her dash up the stairs, her body full of energy and excitement. It was the only time she was like that. Normally she was apathetic, sitting on the couch watching television as she whiled away the hours until Marcus’s next visit. Drew cooked for himself, did his own washing and ironing, and made sure the shopping was done.

  Marcus paid the bills of course; it was just one more way for him to control them. Drew recognised that at fourteen so why didn’t his mum see it?

  He strode to the garage and put on the gloves his mum had bought him for his last birthday. The best present she’d ever given him. His body was starting to show the effects of his hours at the bag, muscle and sinew already beginning to form on his tall frame.

  He was sweating hard, sweat rolling down his skin, his mind only on the bag in front of him, when the door opened behind him. He knew who it was. Marcus had a presence about him. Drew didn’t turn, pretending he hadn’t heard him as he kicked and punched the bag with the strength of a man rather than the boy he was.

  “You have a lot of strength, boy.”

  Despite his hatred, the sound of his father’s voice still filled Drew with the need to please him. He grabbed the bag and stilled it before turning to face his father. “Thank you, sir.”

  Marcus walked closer, assessing Drew, his eyes watching him, looking for something which Drew never seemed to have. Yet today, as his father circled around him, he felt that perhaps he’d found something worthy.


  Marcus began to roll up his sleeves as he faced Drew. “Show me what you have, boy.”

  Drew hesitated sure he’d heard him wrong. His father didn’t want him to fight him—did he?

  Marcus lashed out, jabbing him in the ribs and he gasped for air as the pain had him gritting his jaw.

  “Come on, boy, don’t disappoint me again. Show me there’s something worthy about you. Show me that you were worth the spunk I spent on ya mother’s cunt.”

  Drew gritted his teeth as he seethed, his fists clenching, muscles tensing.

  “There you go, you do have some spirit. You want to hit me, don’t you? Show me who the boss is? Now’s your chance, lad.”

  Drew couldn’t contain his temper any longer and jabbed at his father’s head. The hit connected but he’d pulled his punch at the last second. His father countered with a blow to the ribs which he didn’t pull, and pain exploded in his side. Drew lunged and landed a hit to his father’s gut and the older man grunted and then smiled.

  It was on. He didn’t know how long they fought, just that at the end he was bloody and bruised but he wasn’t the only one. His father was breathing hard, his wiry muscled frame covered in sweat. A bruise was already forming on his cheekbone and Drew felt a sense of twisted pleasure.

  “You did good, boy. Maybe you’re worth my time after all.” His father rolled his sleeves down as he walked to the door. Drew was almost ashamed of the intense pleasure he got from the back-handed compliment his father paid him.

  “Now get showered.” Marcus stepped out but then turned back. “And another thing, if you ever pull your punches again, be it with me or anyone else I tell you to fight, then I’ll beat you so bloody that even your mother won’t recognise you. Do you understand?”

  Drew’s heart fell. He should’ve known the praise wouldn’t last. “Yes, sir.”

  Marcus Preedy walked away, and Drew felt the first inkling of real hatred seep in. One day he’d escape this place—his mum who didn’t really care and his father who seemed to feel nothing for him except anger and disappointment. He’d leave and he’d find his sister and then they would both be free.

  That night he’d a quiet dinner with his mother and father, and for the first time his father engaged him in conversation, even taking an interest in him. His mother smiled and revelled in the attention they were receiving, as if Marcus was the messiah brought to life.

  “Help your mother with the dessert, boy, I need to speak with Michaels in private.”

  Drew stood and followed Larissa to the kitchen. He helped her dish up the lemon meringue pie and felt happy, at peace for a short time. He wondered if this was what normal families did.

  “He does love you, you know. And so do I.” His mother moved closer and she looked younger and happier than he could remember her being.

  Drew didn’t have the heart to argue so he nodded as she laid her hand on his cheek, the look of love in her eyes something he hadn’t seen in years. She’d been a good mum; she’d just lost herself. Maybe she’d be better, go back to how she’d been now he’d made his father happy. Had he let her down all these years? Maybe.

  “I love you, mum.” His throat was tight with emotions he couldn’t understand.

  Her eyes went soft. “I love you too, my boy. You’re my greatest achievement, my soft-hearted boy with so much love to give. Don’t ever lose that part of yourself, Drew. Your heart is your biggest weapon in this world.”

  “I won’t, mum.” But he wasn’t sure he believed that.

  She nodded. “Now take this through while I get the cream.”

  He walked towards the dining room door, a smile on his lips and stopped as he heard his father talking to Michaels. His father’s right-hand man gave Drew the creeps. He went everywhere with Marcus and Drew sometimes wondered if he went to the toilet with him. He ducked back as he heard them whispering, only catching a few words. Words that at the time made no sense but he knew they were important in some way. So, he hid, and he listened, his heart beating fast.

  “Make it look like an accident. I want him closer.” His father’s voice was sure and cold. Drew heard a low reply from Michaels which he couldn’t make out.

  That was the night his mother died.

  It would be years later before he remembered the conversation he’d overheard and by then he was a far different man to the boy he’d been.

  Chapter 1

  10 Years Later

  Mara watched as Drew was pulled on to the dance floor by his sister and smiled. He’d walk through fire for those he loved and for just a few hours, she’d been part of that group. That protection, that feeling of safety while she’d been a hostage. She’d never felt safer than she had then.

  Her attraction to him had grown as she watched him fight back from his injury all while keeping the spirits of the kids she helped high with his jokes and encouragement. The fact that he was tall and gorgeous, with muscles for days, and a drool-worthy ass didn’t hurt at all.

  Yes, she wanted to jump his bones, but more than that, she wanted to be around him. His sweetness, his shy unaffected nature called to her. This man who stayed on after his sessions finished to work harder at getting his mobility back, and who’d go to the children’s rehab facility and read to the younger kids so they didn’t feel alone, had no idea the catch he was.

  Sadly, a man like Drew wasn’t on the cards for her. She’d never know the tender touch of a man who loved her. She was the possession of a man who was so powerful nobody could save her.

  This holiday with her friends had been her last rebellion before the hell that was her life became more of a prison. She felt prickles at the back of her neck and knew he’d found her. He’d always find her, he owned her. Her body and freedom were his now, but she’d never give him her love or her soul.

  Those were all she had left. The sting in the back of her head as he grabbed her hair and dragged her back towards the limo made her eyes well with tears that she fought to blink away. She didn’t want him to see her weakness, knowing it turned him on.

  “Mara, Mara, what am I going to do with you?” he asked as she was shoved onto the floor of the limo.

  Brayden Wells assessed her as she tried to ignore the sting of the grazes on her hands from landing on the limo’s carpeted floor. She saw him remove his three-thousand-pound suit jacket and remove the diamond cuffs from his sleeves. She knew this was going to be a night she’d want to forget. At fifty, Brayden Wells was one of the richest men in the world with a fortune of over twenty-five billion pounds. He was also a sick, sadistic bastard who hid his real evil beneath the veneer of charity and philanthropy.

  He was also the man who’d taken one look at her when she’d attended a charity function for people with spinal injuries and decided she’d be his wife. She hadn’t seen the evil hidden under the handsome cloak of charm and kindness at first. Not until it was too late had she seen the real man who now owned her.

  Her mind went to Drew and the way he made her feel—safe, cherished, worthy of kindness. She blocked out the verbal assault on her character until the first blow landed and then she went to the only place in her mind where she was safe. A locked box where he couldn't find her, a place she could see the happiness she craved and would never have. Because if she did, Brayden had made it clear who would suffer for her insubordination. The people she loved, and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Her parents and her nieces and nephews were the reason she allowed this man to degrade and hurt her. Her family believed that she’d changed, that she’d become a snob and didn’t want to associate with them any longer, but that wasn’t the truth. She was trying to keep them safe.

  It broke her heart that they could think that of her but if it kept them from the evil reach of the man she was engaged to, then she’d accept it. Bury the pain and hurt deep so she could survive and maybe one day she’d escape him.

  She’d never stop dreaming of that day or give up hope that a miracle would send her a saviour. Her mind wen
t to Drew Preedy. He was a real hero, a real man who loved and protected those he cared for. How she wished she’d met him first, had the chance to see if she could be enough for a man like him.

  Maybe they could’ve been happy, had a life together—a future. He’d never use his strength and power against someone weaker. But this was her own doing. Brayden Wells had flaunted his wealth and power and she’d been drawn to it. Seeking to stand in his circle, to bask in his aura. Not until it was too late had she realised his aura was as black as the night.

  As she felt him land another blow to her stomach, she acknowledged that she deserved this—all of it—for desiring such shallow things in life. Her vision swam, her womb contracting as ripples of excruciating pain hit her.

  Mara felt the car slow as they turned towards the private airfield where the plane sat waiting to take them back to the UK. Back to her new home—a beautiful gilded cage. Set in one-hundred acres of land, the country estate that nestled close to the Cotswold town of Winchcombe was stunning.

  A long, winding driveway bordered by English Elm trees on either side formed an avenue approach. The main house was 18th century, grade II listed with six bedrooms. The original style of sash windows, gabled dormers, and Cotswold stone had been maintained so the house kept all its original charm and beauty. A separate two-bed coach house lay within the grounds, as did two tennis courts and an indoor pool. It also had a large paddock and stables and even a small vineyard.