Connor's Claim (Body Count, #2)
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Read between June 22 - August 17, 2025
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Everly. I never expected to feel anything for her but disdain. After all, surely she’d hate our new living situation, too, and loathe the sight of me just as I would with her. Except she hadn’t. She’d liked me. Been kind. Welcoming. Including into her bed. That was the limit of it, though. Love at first sight was my failing. Everly Makepeace had once been my stepsister and my obsession, but never the other way around. It was the only way I could explain why now, a decade later, with no love lost on her side, I was breaking into her home to protect her.
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Everly had always been on the naïve side. Despite her Machiavellian father. Despite the disturbing undercurrent of the city we lived in. Where I dwelled in darkness, she’d always summoned light.
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She’d never liked her body, but I’d worshipped her,
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My father had associates who looked at me with a male assessment I’d learned to hate and fear. They’d done so from the minute I’d grown breasts I couldn’t conceal. Their stares creeped me out. Connor’s warmed my blood. In a heartbeat, the awkward moment of meeting new family members, who to this point had been complete strangers, changed into something far nicer. I’d been fifteen and feeling things I never had before. Or since.
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A couple of weeks ago, I’d overheard my father mention Connor’s name on the phone. Not his real name, but the gang name he used. Shade. Because he was a man of the shadowy night, apparently. Father had some kind of deal with Shade, I’d gathered, and that knowledge had driven me to distraction. After all I’d sacrificed. After I’d lost him for the purpose of keeping him safe and earned his hatred in reply. After everything I’d done to set him free, he’d still wound up in my father’s clutches, and that was unbearable.
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There was a tentative balance in Deadwater between the gangs and the legal authorities. We ran the women, the Four Milers, managed by Red, handled drugs, and the Zombies peddled weapons. Over all of it, the city leaders, corrupt as a whole, took bribes and kept the peace. It was a system that mostly worked, and Arran strived to maintain it for the sake of the women employed at the warehouse.
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I shared his goals but had my own role in the city, the enforcer, the clean-up man. Arran kept the women safe, I handled the predators.
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Any other thoughts of Everly were ones from the grave, dead and buried a long time ago when she tore my still-beating heart from my chest, dug in her pretty nails for good measure, then tossed it in the dirt. It’d been there ever since.
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In my desperation to see Connor, I’d signed up for that game, hoping he’d be the one to claim me. My application had been rejected.
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Cassie spoke. “I’ve got a fast car and no sense of self-preservation. Say the word and I’ll get ye out of here.” Genevieve snapped her head around. “You never offered me an out like that.” Cassie made an off sound. “I’ve known Arran since I was six, and he’s the best. Shade, I’m on the fence about. Arran trusts him, but we’ve already established hos before bros.” She gestured between me and her. I hastened to interject. “Oh, no. Thank you, but I don’t need rescuing, at least I don’t think so. Someone broke into my house this evening, and Connor, I mean Shade, brought me here. But I’ve been ...more
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some men shouldn’t be fathers.” Cassie said, “But without their fuck-ups, we wouldn’t be here.”
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We’d been kids, reeling in a shitty living situation and finding something pure in each other. I’d been so fucking happy I would’ve given up anything. Given her anything.
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“If you’re done drooling, I need a shower.” His words pulled me back into myself. “Do whatever you like,” I snapped back. His gaze held mine, and something dark and needy passed between us. “Ye really don’t want me to follow that order, temptress.” God, I did. But at the same point, I’d never allow it. Nor would he. We’d been there, and all it caused was heartache. No matter the lingering attraction, we were grown adults who’d been burned, and I for one would never go back. Or couldn’t. Not without repercussions I wasn’t willing to endure.
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I’d told her she could do anything she wanted to me in my sleep, and she’d said the same. Those words, gifted with a smile, haunted me. Everything she did haunted me.
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She’d suffered at the hands of the mayor for far longer than she should’ve tolerated
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“Why did ye say no, Everly?” I asked quietly into the still air of my bedroom. The sleeping woman didn’t reply. Hurt and anger rippled under my skin. I took a step. “Why did ye choose him over me?” I reached the side of the bed, standing over her. With no bidding, my knife was in my hand. “Why cling to that man, when ye said you’d love me until your last breath?”
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I wanted her to say yes to me every time and never refuse me again. I wanted history to unwrite itself and my fucking heart to unbreak.
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It was almost like the version of me reflected back was someone else. A more confident version of Everly Makepeace. A complete fantasy, dressed by Connor Michaels.
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Cassie extended a casual arm. “Spy, detective, stalker, the CEO of all things feral and chaotic. I’ll get business cards made.”
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I’d noticed her then, because of course I fucking did—she was gorgeous. I’d also seen her at the building site where I worked, of all unlikely places, but it was definitely her. I’d recognise that feline little face anywhere, and the expression of pure mischief that surrounded her. Bee-stung lips and a cocky attitude worked for me.
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“I used to think that being taken into foster care would be the best thing I could ever wish for. Convict cured me of that claim.” Arran had had a shite childhood with a vicious father. My neglectful mother and her bad choices in men were nothing to his suffering.
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“When we were bratty kids, taking money from brawls with rich boys who wanted to slum it with us for an evening, you had a pre-fight ritual you’d do every night.” I scowled, not liking where this was going. Arran continued. “You dedicated each match to a girl. You never told me her name, but ever since we read Natasha’s post-mortem report and you ran out of my apartment like your ass was on fire, you’ve worn the same expression.” “Quit examining at me so closely, ye fucking psycho.” His gaze stayed on mine. “It was Everly you fought for, wasn’t it?” Him attaching her name to that memory ...more
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Like a whipped pup, I trailed her, guarded her, even though inside, I was still dying over her. I had been for years. Somehow, I hadn’t been able to make it stop, and a few days in her company had me fucking caring about her. The thought of her being someone else’s had hurt. So much, I still felt the burn even after the wrong conclusion had been lifted.
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The minute I was behind closed doors, I feared breaking down. I liked having a brother, the feeling was a friendly and kind one, and Riordan seemed honourable, but the opposing force of what it all meant for my father clouded everything. He’d lied and kept things hidden. He’d cheated on my long-dead mother, too. My sense of value from the lifetime I’d spent serving him crumbled away beneath my heels.
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If she knew, she’d despise me even more. At the heart of me was a monster. In contrast, Everly was gentle, soft, and sweet. I never wanted to see her again, but worse than that was the thought she’d exist in her perfectly curated world with an even shittier view of me than when we’d started.
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Yet it was something else driving me on to argue with her. A need to get closer and to touch her again while the clock ticked against us. Time slowed.
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She clutched my wrist with both hands, holding me to her. “If you want me, you can have me. Make me forget everything.” My spill of laughter came out hard. “You’d use me, even now.” Hurt filled her eyes. “No, God. I’m going home tomorrow, and this is over. Knock me out with your drugs again. Use me. All I know is you were once my home and my everything, and I just want to disappear into darkness and know one good thing will come out of it. Then tomorrow, we can talk.” For a godforsaken moment, I got caught in the intrigue. Time stood still. I wanted to fuck her like nothing else I’d ever ...more
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The fact that a quick sense check of my body felt…normal. Not sore. Not touched. Unused. I sank back down on the mattress. Disappointment had been my father’s worry, but I owned that shame. I’d offered myself, and Connor had turned me down. Even unconscious.
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In the short time our parents had been married, we’d become a port in each other’s storm. I already loved her in a way that would change my world forever. I’d kill for her again and again, but I knew what she’d suffered, the shite her da put her through, and the obligations she felt and that I never wanted her to feel for me. She hadn’t told him about the paedophile because he would have done nothing other than blame her. He controlled every part of her life. He did the same with my mother who’d held the job Everly did now, an executive assistant.
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She hung her head. “He’s important to my father.” Aye, well, that was no longer a priority for either of us. I was taking control. I’d come with that very intention. A day of being without her had me losing my mind, waiting on updates from the crew watching her and checking her tracker like a man possessed. It had driven me to an edge I hadn’t realised I was near. It broke something in me. And desperate men took desperate measures. Repeatedly, Everly had put her father ahead of me. Worse, ahead of herself. I’d told her I was better at looking after her than she was, and now I had to prove the ...more
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I returned to the bed and picked up her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Ye can’t hear me, but I’m going to get us out of here.”
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He wanted to hurt her. I’d kill him for even thinking it.
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I gunned the electric engine and glided out of the space, unseen, and kidnapped the mayor’s daughter, again. Or, from my point of view, driving my lass to safety. Everly was mine now. Every part of her. Asleep was better than awake, at least for what I had in store for her next.
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I stopped. Drew my gaze around to be sure I had everyone’s attention. “Listen up,” I shouted. Then I turned us to show Everly’s face. “Mine. Do ye hear me? Fucking mine.”
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“We’re home, temptress.”
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“I own ye now. Just as ye own me. I’ll defend your life with mine and give ye everything ye want. A home, my last name, the blood of anyone who hurts ye. I’ll fucking knock ye up, too. As many times as we want.”
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“Ye need to know that you’re mine now. I won’t let ye go, ever. This pussy,” he slapped me between the legs, “this body, every piece of your soul, all mine. Nod if ye understand.” I managed a quick jerk of my head in agreement. It was impossible, but at the same time, all I’d ever wanted. That claim, his ownership, spoke to a deep need inside me, and I was powerless to refuse. “Good lass. Nothing else matters but us now.” Connor stroked my clit and thrust inside me, setting off fireworks, a detonation of need that had me barrelling in the direction of another orgasm. He growled encouragement, ...more
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Once, I’d dreamt of getting pregnant by him. It was a stupid teenage solution to keeping him.
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Connor collected my hand in his and kissed my fingers. “All the more reason to let me keep ye safe. I might be acting gentle but I don’t feel it. I’m half inclined to chain ye to this bed so I know where ye are at all times. Consider that a warning in case ye decide to test me.” I shivered, not hating the idea. He grinned. “Now get up.” “What are we doing?” “Showering. Then I’m going to fuck ye again so you’re wearing my cum, as per the rules, when we’re ready to go downstairs. When we’re outside of this apartment⁠—” “I can wear clothes?” I joked. His gaze dropped to a glower, so instantly ...more
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From his attention alone, I was wet. Needy. Wanting more.
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I focused on his knuckles, noting fully the black lines that scored and crisscrossed him there. There were hundreds. On both hands, hashing out his fingers. I went still. “Are those a record of your conquests?” Connor teased my entrance. “There’s one for every time I had a dirty thought about ye. I hurt myself to make it stop, including when I pierced my dick, then it became an addiction.” My disquiet turned to wonder. I spread his fingers, examining them one by one, then gazed down to where he held me between the legs, counting more than I could guess. “So many.” “I had to change it to once a ...more
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The knowledge that he’d lusted over me long after we’d parted smashed out another brick in the wall I’d put up to protect myself from memories of him.
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But this month was all about firsts. My first love. My only love. The start of my awakening from what I’d done to my life and what had been done to me.
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“It’s safer for me that way.” “When I can’t touch you back?” “Can’t touch me, tell me no, or hurt me.” My heart sank. I’d bruised him so deeply that this was our reality. Sorrow chased away the bloom of happiness and pleasure he’d gifted me. I’d broken us. I’d done it because I loved him so much, but the crime still stood.
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Like an idiot, I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and blew it to him, then turned and darted away. How to Catch a Man by Cassiopeia Archer. Subtitle: A masterclass in getting him to chase you.
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“Don’t know how ye thought I could escape the crazy in my family. We all came from the same wrinkly old ball sack.
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I don’t give a fuck about marriage but I do about ye. You’re mine, so ye need to see this. Watch me, not him, if ye prefer. Understand what I am.”
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Years ago, he’d killed a man who’d hurt me. The colleague of my father’s who’d attacked me in my house. When he told me, I’d been shocked, but it had worn off. The remaining, stronger emotion was one of relief. For the sake of the girl this man had hurt, I wanted the same feeling. Knowledge that a bad person was off the streets.
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Connor was doing a job and one I saw value in. I couldn’t do what he did. I couldn’t even look. But I respected him, and I agreed that this needed to be done.
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If anything, him giving me this insight was a gift. It showed me Shade, the gang enforcer, and the reach of his darkness. It filled a gap in who he was. He’d wanted me to understand him. Perhaps I’d never truly know what enabled him to do this, but—another splatter of blood soaked his t-shirt—I wasn’t scared of him.
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