Dawn
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New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Consequences, Infidelity, Web of Sin, Tangled Web, and Web of Desire series
COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION
DAWN
Book 3 of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy
Copyright @ 2021 Romig Works, LLC
Published by Romig Works, LLC
2021 Edition
ISBN: 978-1-947189-57-7
Cover art: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design (www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk)
Editing: Lisa Aurello
Formatting: Romig Works, LLC
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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2021 Edition License
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DAWN
book #3 DANGEROUS WEB
“Night never had the last word. The dawn is always invincible.” ~Hugh B. Brown
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The Sparrow Web world is covered in darkness, yet the dawn is near.
The dramatic conclusion to the Dangerous Web trilogy is here.
The veil of safety protecting Lorna Murray’s life has been ripped away by the actions of a stranger, or is there more?
Will Lorna ever see the light through the lingering darkness? Will the sun rise again?
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From New York Times bestselling author comes a brand-new dark romantic-suspense trilogy, Dangerous Web. DAWN, the dramatic conclusion, is set in the dangerous world of the Sparrow Webs. You do not need to read Web of Sin, Tangled Web, or Web of Desire to get caught up in this new dangerous and intriguing romantic-suspense saga, Dangerous Web.
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DAWN is the dramatic conclusion of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy that began in DUSK, continued in DARK, and concludes in DAWN.
Have you been Aleatha’d?
Note from Aleatha
Thank you for reading the Sparrow Webs. You’re about to read DAWN, the conclusion of the final Sparrow Webs trilogy, Dangerous Web.
If this is your first trilogy of the Sparrow Webs, please know that there are other amazing stories in this same world, complete and ready to binge today.
SPARROW WEBS
Web of Sin
(Sterling and Araneae’s story)
SECRETS (Free everywhere)
LIES
PROMISES
Tangled Web
(Kader/Mason and Laurel’s story)
TWISTED
OBSESSED
BOUND
and
Web of Desire
(Patrick and Madeline’s story)
SPARK
FLAME
ASHES
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For a complete list of my books, please go to “Books by Aleatha” following DAWN. Thank you again for falling in love with the Sparrow Webs world. Enjoy.
~Aleatha
Prologue
Dawn
Book #3 of the DANGEROUS WEB trilogy in SPARROW WEBS
The conclusion of DARK, book #2 Dangerous Web
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Reid
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“I haven’t seen her,” Maples repeated as Mason’s knife cut another notch in his wrist.
“Next one will be deeper,” Mason said. “Poor Zella, she’s going to find you dead. If she can find anything in this shithole. I wonder if she’ll be more distraught over your death or at not winning the million dollars.”
Maples was now bound to the dining room chair where he’d sat nearly fifteen minutes earlier, his arms tethered to the chair’s arms and his legs secured to the chair’s legs.
“Who is the rich guy?” Mason asked.
“Hernádez, Garcia, Roríguez. Shit, some brown...” His beady eyes came my way. “Not like you, boy. You know...a Mexican. Not sure what we’re supposed to call them or your kind now days.”
As the small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, this asshole’s poor choice of vocabulary added fuel to the flames of rage that began when I figured out what he’d done to my wife twenty-five years ago. I worked to keep my expression statuesque though it wasn’t easy to suppress my enthusiasm for what was about to occur.
“Nancy was getting payments from” —Mason hesitated— “a—”
“Mexican,” I said, finishing his sentence using Maples’s words.
Missy was Latina. This had to be the connection. It was the only plausible explanation. “Why was Nancy getting payments from a Mexican?”
“He don’t live there...he lives here. But she made some deal with him. He paid until...well, eighteen.”
Mason’s knife went to Maples’s neck. “What is his name?”
Maples stretched his neck, backing away from the blade. “I can’t—”
Mason pushed the blade against his sagging skin until a crimson drop of blood dribbled to his dirty, worn collar. “Wait. It was Garcia. Yeah, I’m sure.”
Mason pushed the blade deeper. “Tell me what this has to do with my sister.”
Maples’s gray eyes narrowed. “The brown one or the pretty one with red hair?”
My fist landed in his stomach. “What did you do to Lorna?” I asked as his coughs turned to gagging.
Maples spat as blood dripped from his lip. “The payments were for the other one, but oh, that redheaded one was downright sweet. She had the softest little hands. And her lips—”
My next punch connected to his jaw.
He spat more blood and this time a front tooth. “Don’t know why you’re mad. She wanted it. We were friends and she liked my attention. All little girls like to hear they’re special.” He looked at me. “Oh shit. Are you fucking her now? Damn, I wanted that tight pussy. Is it still tight or saggy like her mother’s?”
There was no conscious train of thought. I didn’t consider the ramifications. For once, I wasn’t thinking steps ahead. Taking Mason’s knife from his grasp, I plunged it deep in Maples’s upper arm.
It wouldn’t kill him immediately.
“What did you do to her?” I asked again.
His words sputtered as blood mixed with his oxygen. “Nothing she didn’t want. Just like her momma.”
I looked at the blade in my hand, dripping with deep red blood. “This is for my wife,” I said as I pushed the blade through his ratty shirt, above his belt and sliced laterally, as deep as the blade would go.
Maples’s eyes widened as he watched organs and tissue roll from his wound.
There were moments of consciousness before death. It was his only time to make amends with a superior being or beg for his life, not that we could save it now, but he didn’t. The vile creature stared at both of us.
Mason’s eyes met mine before he took back the knife, and buried the blade into Maples’s upper leg. Blood spouted as his body convulsed. We both stepped back as the asshole bled out before us.
His time for amends had expired.
“I would have been okay with him enjoying more of the experience,” I said. “You know, since he was such a good friend to Lorna.”
Mason took a deep breath before disappearing into the kitchen and returning with two towels. He handed one to me.
“Call the cleanu
p crew,” I said as I wiped my hands on the towel. “After this is done, we’re bulldozing this place. Too much shit happened here.”
Mason nodded as he sent a text. Once he was done, he reached for the knife, wiped the blade on the towel, removed a leather sheath from his pocket, and reinserted the knife. Next, he put the knife back in his pocket. “What? It was a gift.”
His casualness made me grin.
I took one last look at Gordon Maples. As grotesque as it sounded, the sight of him gave me my first glimmer of light. I would make this world safe again for Lorna. Killing this disgusting creature was only the first step.
Together Mason and I turned and walked toward the front door.
I’ll bulldoze every last splinter.
The hinges creaked as Mason opened the front door inward and we stepped onto the porch. Scanning the scene, I saw our SUV across the street and one of our Sparrows nearby on the sidewalk.
It was as we proceeded toward the stairs to the walkway that the bang of a screen door hitting a house across the street caught my attention. I barely had time to register the chain of events that followed.
The first to step from the house across the street was Zella. She wasn’t at the bank as she’d been told, but on that porch, her baby still on her hip. Next, a tall man came into view, exiting the house behind her.
Slow motion as in the movies was a cinematic illusion. In reality, the clock didn’t slow, it accelerated. There wasn’t time to register details. Things I’d been trained to recall such as the man’s characteristics or identity were merely a blur.
“Watch out...” I began to shout as the man behind Zella lifted a long shotgun and pointed it in our direction. With my reflexes on high alert and without conscious thought, my hand moved, reaching for my gun, freeing it from the holster.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mason crouched behind the porch’s railing with his pistol already aimed. Our backup Sparrows flew into action. One on the street ducked behind a car and pointed his gun toward the man. Another stepped from the side of the porch, his firearm aimed.
Don’t hit the baby.
That was one of my many thoughts as shots rang from different directions. The air filled with pops and bangs—multiple explosions—as if a pack of firecrackers left behind from an Independence Day celebration had been ignited.
And then...
It wasn’t the impact of the bullet that I felt as much as it was the way its thrust propelled my body backward toward the open doorway. I reached for the doorframe. Crimson from my palm painted the jamb as my grip loosened, sliding down toward the floor as my knees gave way. Collapsing in the threshold of the home that had caused Lorna too much pain, my light disappeared.
“Reid.” Mason’s voice came and went.
Dark claimed another victory.
Gordon Maples
Over a year ago
Englewood, a Chicago neighborhood
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Talking heads jabbered on and on from the television in the rear living room, competing with the television in the front room. The newscasters were arguing about everything, each one louder and more determined. Taxes were going down or was it up? The Bears were headed for another loss or maybe a victory. An ex-senator will have his appeal heard. There was another body found in the dockyard. And everyone had to weigh in on the newest scandal that would be forgotten tomorrow.
Snuffing out my cigarette on my plate, I swirled the butt in the runny scrambled eggs. “I can’t eat this shit.” I shoved the plate to the floor, the cheap glass bouncing on the linoleum as the eggs slid and landed in a clump.
“Zella,” I screamed to my oldest daughter above the television’s volume. “Get me some more coffee.”
The creaking of a hinge drew my attention to the far corner of the kitchen—the basement door was slightly ajar. It wasn’t much of a basement. Other than the old washing machine and dryer, the basement was mostly used for storing shit. That’s all the attic was used for these days too.
Speaking of old shit.
The door creaked again, opening a little more. “Gordy?”
The basement was also where we kept her.
I let out an exaggerated breath. “Did I give you permission to come up?”
“I-I’m not up yet, not all the way. I heard you yelling for Zella. She’s not feeling well with the baby. I can get you coffee.”
Since I knew this waif of a woman had no maternal instincts, she obviously wanted something. I turned to the newspaper spread out on the table. She didn’t ask again; instead, she waited for my permission just like the little bitch she was trained to be.
There had been a time when she’d looked good, with full bouncy tits, a tight ass, and painted lips perfect for sucking. She was a hot commodity—literally. That was years ago. There wasn’t much left on her that was appealing. Maybe her ass. It was still tight, unlike her pussy.
Overuse did that.
“Clean that up,” I said, pointing to the lump of egg shit on the floor.
Nancy opened the door wider and taking slow steps with dirty bare feet, she came to a stop at the mess of eggs. When she looked up, her dull eyes opened wide. “Please, Gordy. I’m hungry.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” I ran my hand over my belly. “You ain’t paid rent in years. No rent. No food. You’re lucky you have a roof over your head.”
She looked down again at the eggs on the floor. “I-if you don’t want that...I could eat it.”
“You want that?”
She nodded.
My lips curled upward. “Say please.”
Her slender shoulders bowed forward. “Please.”
A chuckle bubbled in my throat. I could take this further, make her beg, but honestly, I wasn’t in the mood. “Fine, eat it off the floor and you can have it.”
“Gordy?”
I sat taller, lifting my brows. “You want it? Eat it. You have ten seconds and then it goes in the trash, where you belong.”
Her legs and arms trembled as she lowered herself to the floor. On all fours, she reached for the cold eggs, scooping them into her hand.
“No hands. You know the rules.”
Watching as she placed her lips on the linoleum and sucked the cold eggs reminded me that despite her uselessness, she was still okay at that particular skill set. I rubbed my hand over the front of my pants. “Lick it clean.”
My dick twitched as she obeyed, her tongue running over and over the dirty floor until there was no egg left. Still on her knees, her lifeless green eyes came to mine.
“Pick up the plate and get me more coffee.”
Nancy stood with the plate and wiped her lips on the back of her hand. After placing the plate on a stack of dishes in the sink, she walked toward me to get the coffee cup. Slipping my hand under her thin dress, I grabbed a fistful of ass and squeezed. “Bring the coffee over here, and I’ll let you suck me real good like the little whore you used to be.”
Reaching for the mug with trembling hands, she nodded.
Her too-thin form walked away. As I took in her ass and skinny legs coming from beneath the loose dress, I voiced my assessment. “Hard to believe you were ever a looker.” I laughed. “Men actually paid to get in your floppy cunt. Now it’s your turn to pay.”
Her money was gone, and her only form of payment was what she’d always only been good for. Without a response, Nancy filled my cup with coffee, set the pot back on the burner, and walked the cup back to me.
I set it on the table. Spreading my knees, I pointed to the floor. After lighting another cigarette, I leaned back against the old kitchen chair.
Nancy Pierce didn’t need step-by-step instructions. Hell, she’d been sucking cock since long before I met her.
Around twenty-five years ago, she had been worth the bother of housing her. That ended when her brats moved in here. The boy was a piece of shit. Last I heard he was dead, died in some explosion, something to do with human trafficking. I’m not surprised. I knew from the first
time I saw him he’d never amount to anything.
The little one was sweet enough to eat, but I don’t have a thing for darkies, even the light-brown ones. It was the little redhead who had a nice ass.
As Nancy loosened my belt, I imagined what the little redhead might look like today. After she quit working with my Anna, Lorna Pierce disappeared into fucking thin air. Images and possibilities came to my mind as her mother unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. Nancy’s cold fingers surrounded me. I wouldn’t take responsibility for my flaccid state. Getting me hard was her job.
My fingers fisted Nancy’s thinning hair. “Do you want to be my secret friend?”
“Yes, Gordy.”
She gasped as I pulled her hair tighter.
“Mr. Maples,” I corrected.
“Yes, Mr. Maples.”
Nancy had played this role enough times. I shouldn’t have to remind her. At least her mouth was warmer than her touch. With my eyes still open, I imagined a much younger version of the woman taking me between her lips. In my mind’s eye, her hair grew redder, her skin softer, and her mouth more timid.
“Pretend you’re eating ice cream.” I laughed to myself as she licked real good like. The ice cream line always worked with the little ones. They all loved ice cream. “Now suck.”
Using her hair as a rein, I pushed and pulled, directing and dictating Nancy’s rhythm. The noises as she gagged and choked only made my dick grow. Hell, her discomfort combined with the made-up visions in my head did the trick. My circulation rushed to my cock, making my dick throb.