The Devil You Know (Ashby Crime Family Romance Book 3) Read online

  Copyright © 2020 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc

  Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Devil You Know - Ashby Crime Family Romance

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  More From KB Winters

  Free Book!

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  Kat

  “Does it seem like we’ve done a few too many of these lately?”

  I leaned against the long wooden bar inside Midnight Mass as the Ashby family and their friends and associates gathered for the memorial to celebrate the life and death of Lance Decker. Sandwiched between my brothers, Virgil and Jasper, we all looked out at the crowd with heavy hearts.

  “Fuck yeah,” Virgil growled and took a fortifying sip of whiskey before he smacked the bar and walked off toward Maisie, who’d barely escaped this fate a few months back.

  “It’s the nature of the business,” Jasper said in his usual gruff, rational tone. “He was a good man, though. A damn good man.”

  I nodded as a pretty brunette with big sparkling blue eyes walked in looking completely overwhelmed. I knew who she was and pushed off the bar, turning to Jasper with a grin.

  “Good try at being a human. Add a bit more emotion and say that to his widow, Vanessa.” The poor woman looked devastated and out of place, how I imagined most women would look if they lost the man they loved. “Come on.”

  “Do I have to? This is more your thing, or Ma’s.”

  I laughed and shoulder bumped Jasper. “You can kill a man without blinking an eye but an emotional female sends you running? Pathetic.”

  I made my way to the middle of the room where Vanessa looked like she was ready to bolt and held out my hands in a show of warmth and concern.

  “Vanessa? I’m Kat Ashby. Lance was an incredible man. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. Really.” I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze that made her breath hitch.

  “Thank you, Ms. Ashby.”

  “Kat, please. This is my brother, Jasper. Drink?”

  She flashed a hesitant smile at my scowling brother before her blue gaze met mine once again. “I would love a drink. Strong and on the rocks.”

  I glared at Jasper until he took a step forward and wrapped his big hands around Vanessa’s delicate, slender hands. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Decker. It was our loss as well.” Then with a grunt of sympathy, Jasper took off in the direction of Cal and Ma, who looked like they were having a serious work-related discussion.

  “Don’t mind Jasper. He’s a bit of a robot at times. Not good in moments like this, but otherwise, it’s an excellent quality.”

  In a leader, sure, but it was also the reason Jasper was single. Perpetually single, in fact. Not that I could talk when it came to matters of the heart, but at least I knew my flaws. “Let’s go get that drink.”

  Vanessa nodded, her thick chocolate waves falling around her shoulders in a way that had some of the guys eyeing the beautiful widow in ways they shouldn’t. At least not quite so soon.

  “Let’s,” she said in a voice that showed the strain of the last few days.

  “Clontarf, on the rocks for my friend Vanessa and another for me. Neat.” Midnight Mass had been closed for the memorial celebration so there would be no interruptions. No unwanted guests. “Seriously, your husband was a good man.”

  “You knew him well?” she asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

  “Not well, no. But he gave me a few pointers on handling a new Springfield Hellcat, said I reminded him of a woman he served with, only she was scrawnier.”

  She laughed and shook her head, taking the drink with a smile that made the new bartender blush and lick his lips. Arousal? Fucking men. No class at all. “That sounds like Lance. Charming as hell when he wanted to be, the rest of the time that size fourteen foot was stuck in his mouth.”

  I laughed to keep her company. “I didn’t mind. Growing up with brothers, I got used to the clumsy compliments of tough guys.” It was nice to have someone to shoot the shit with, who only wanted to shoot, not talk until they’d uttered every word in the English language. “Let’s sit.”

  We grabbed a booth and sat in silence for a long moment, both of us simply savoring the taste of the alcohol, reconciling the jovial atmosphere with the cloud of sadness hanging over us all.

  “I miss him so much already,” she said. Sniffling started and tears welled in her eyes. “We were high school sweethearts. I haven’t been with anyone other than Lance. What am I gonna do without him?”

  Her tears began in earnest and unlike the men in the Ashby family, I knew how to comfort someone in grief.

  I’d had enough practice at it and this woman’s grief lay at my family’s feet. Sure, Lance knew the deal, but that didn’t change the truth. I slid from my side of the booth and around to Vanessa, wrapping my arms around her while she sobbed against my shoulder. Her pain was real, so visceral it sent a shockwave of grief through me until I felt my own eyes sting with the threat of tears. I did what I always did when it came to tears, shoved them back down deep where they belonged and focused on the matter at hand.

  Vanessa.

  I held her close while she cried for the only man she’d ever loved. Now she had to learn to live without that love. What does that kind of love feel like? Thoughts of love, of course, sent my gaze in search of the familiar crop of blond hair that belonged to a man I’d loved since I was a teenager. Terry Manning.

  He chatted with everyone and wore a big wide smile that made the
object of his attention at the moment feel like they were the most important person in the room, the most interesting and engaging individual he’d ever met. Unless you were me. Around me, you’d think I had the plague. He was the perfect lieutenant for Jasper, friendly and outgoing, better at working the room than my brother. It was probably what made them best friends, closer than brothers. And that closeness meant he could never, ever, be mine. Ever. Terry’s gaze caught mine and held me in its grip for several seconds, mocking and sparkling with mischief, before he looked away.

  I sighed heavily and hugged Vanessa a little bit tighter, feeling greater sympathy for losing Lance. “I can’t say I’ve ever had the kind of love you and Lance had, Vanessa, but I’ve experienced loss. Too much fucking loss. I know you might think it’s too soon, but the road to healing starts with booze and when that’s finished, more booze.”

  I flagged the bartender for another round, determined to do what I could to make this day just a little easier for her.

  She laughed over the sob choking her throat and sat back, reaching for a handful of napkins to dry her tears. “Is that cute blond your man?”

  Dammit, I’d been caught. “No. That’s my brother’s best friend, Terry.”

  She guessed correctly. “But you want him to be,” she said, suddenly less teary eyed and more interested.

  I nodded, figuring any distraction was better than having her thinking about her dead husband, even if it was my own humiliation. “I used to. Fancied myself in love with him as a teenager, but there are plenty of reasons it could never work, mostly because he’s my brother’s best friend, and he doesn’t like me.”

  Vanessa laughed and the sound was pretty and musical. I could see why Lance was so smitten with her. “Those are stupid reasons; you know that right?”

  I shook my head. “I used to think so too but look at them.” I pointed to where they were deep in conversation in a dim corner. “They’re closer than brothers.”

  “But he’s not your brother. Lance was best friends with my older sister, and I always had a crush on him, but a three-year age difference is a lifetime when you’re teenagers. Then Sarah, my sister, got leukemia, and Lance and I grew closer. He resisted me, especially after her death. I was barely in High School. It was hard, Kat, but it was worth it. He was worth it,” she said and burst into tears once more. “Life is too short to not be happy.”

  Her words struck me hard, and I tossed back another whiskey with a brittle smile on my face. “Maybe you’re right, Vanessa, but that’s an issue for another day.”

  “Vanessa, dear.” Sadie stopped at the table, looking every bit the Irish-American matriarch in her black Chanel and matching black pearls. “Lance will be missed by us all. And if you need anything, consider the Ashby family, your family.”

  Vanessa blinked her pretty blue eyes up at Sadie in confusion. “Are you serious?” she shook her head. “I had no idea this was his security job and you people; you’ve all been so nice. So kind.” More tears came and Sadie looked about as ready to bolt as Virgil had at the sight of tears, vulnerability. “Your son, Calvin, sent a housekeeper and meal delivery last week.”

  “Family,” Sadie said and grabbed her hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze, before she stepped into the middle of the room to get everyone’s attention. “Lance was a good man. A great man with an incredible work ethic and a deep-rooted protective nature that served him well in the Navy as a SEAL, but also within the Ashby family.”

  Terry and Jasper pounded on the bar, whistling loudly and more people joined in. “To Lance. May he watch over us all and rest peacefully while we find the bastards who did this.”

  The smile Sadie wore was sweet and innocent, strong enough to fool the untrained eye, but the seething anger she felt was practically a living, breathing thing.

  And I knew there’d be hell to pay. More violence and more death, to make up for what we all had lost. And because, as a family, we had to make a point. No one fucked with the Ashbys and lived to tell the tale.

  “This is all so strange,” Vanessa said and looked around. “I don’t know any of these people, but they all knew my husband.” She looked overwhelmed, so filled with grief that it made my own heart break, for Ma never grieving like that over our worthless father, for me for never loving someone that deeply.

  “You should go talk to them. Find out about the Lance they knew. Share in their memories of your man.”

  Her smile was hesitant but as Vanessa looked around the room, her smile grew. “You know what, I think I will.” She stopped at the bar for another drink and inserted herself into the first circle she found.

  Vanessa will be all right. I didn’t know much about her beyond what Lance had said, but I knew that much.

  There was a whole lot more that I had no fucking clue about, starting with the fact that Lance died protecting that Rhymer bitch, which meant she was as responsible as the fuckers who took her. Not to mention the big fight featuring Ravager. The fight was huge and there was a ton of money at stake on both sides. And now there was a distinct possibility that Brendan Rhymer was still alive.

  It was so much shit and it was all happening at once, and worse; it was all pretty much out of my control. It was like being the lone little girl in a family dominated by alphas, of both genders.

  “Such a shame.” Terry smacked his lips as his lean body cast a shadow over the table. “There’s this nice party going on and still, you can’t relax.”

  His voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I took a deep, cleansing breath before I turned a bored look up at him.

  “This is me relaxing. Not all of us need to be the center of attention to relax.”

  It was one of his most engaging qualities, always grabbing the limelight, but I’d always hated it because he pulled everyone near him in. Everyone but me.

  “I can’t help it if people like to be around me.” He shrugged and dropped down on the booth seat right beside me. “I’m just that kind of guy, I guess.”

  He was. Terry was the definition of the life of the party with a ready smile for just about everyone, maybe a compliment too. “And I guess I’m just a girl who can’t relax.” Not that Terry knew what it was like to have the weight of the world on his shoulders and nor would he care about the weight I had to carry.

  “Did you come over here to bust my balls or did you want something?”

  His blue eyes looked at me, and I swore he could see down to my soul, but that was just wishful thinking. Remnants from a childhood crush that had never fully died. How could it when he was always around, that nearly white blond hair in such stark contrast to his sun-kissed skin and those blue, blue eyes that made him look so much softer than he was. And, good God, that plump bottom lip that pulled beautifully when he smiled. And he was always smiling.

  “I just came to see why you’re scowling at a mighty fine whiskey.”

  “Thinking,” I told him honestly. “There’s a lot going on right now.”

  “Yeah, there is. But this is the Ashby family. Something is always going on. Figured you’d be used to it by now.”

  I laughed bitterly. “Are you used to your family situation yet?”

  He froze and flashed a sarcastic grin. “Nope.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “A bit too much,” he said before taking a long pull from his beer bottle. “Let your hair down, Kat. Enjoy life a little.” His tone had changed along with his proximity.

  Our thighs were side by side, touching ever so slightly as he leaned in and grabbed a lock of my hair, wrapping it slowly, teasingly, around two fingers. He gave it a gentle tug and stared into my eyes for so long that my heart started to race and my mind began to wonder. To hope. Was this the moment Terry would finally realize the chemistry between us, the fire that arced whenever we were close? Would he continue to deny it? Or was the truth a little more brutal? That maybe, just maybe, Terry wasn’t interested.

  Maybe it was all in my head. And I needed to get it on straight.
r />   He leaned forward a little more and I thought—no I hoped—his lips would brush against mine. Instead, he looked into my eyes, smiled and released my hair. So he could walk away.

  So fucking stupid. I left the booth soon after and ordered another drink, trying to figure out why he had such a strong hold on me. It wasn’t love. It was a crush that I’d let get out of control, intensified by a distinct lack of man-generated orgasms. I longed to wrap my arms and legs around a hard-bodied male and stay there until I couldn’t walk.

  The memorial was in full swing, and I was on the wrong side of tipsy with an early day tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.

  I pressed speed dial number three and made my way toward the door. “Oliver it’s Kat. Can you give me a lift home?”

  “I’ll be at the front door in sixty seconds.”

  “Thanks.” It was the perfect amount of time to make hasty goodbyes so I could go home. Far away from Terry Manning and the effect he had on me.

  Chapter Two

  Terry

  The House of Ashby was buzzing with activity surrounding the upcoming fight.

  Every ring, every bag, and every space for sparring, lifting, and training was occupied by professional fighters and wannabe fighters alike. They all wore the exact same thousand yard stare common with athletes around the world. One fighter in particular, Rob “Ravager” Regan, was a headlining fight and his first shot at a belt.

  And my kid brother was training him.

  “Rob has good reflexes but he drops his guard too fucking often. It’s a KO waiting to happen.” It wasn’t my place to give advice to Emmett. I wasn’t a fighter or a trainer, at least not at the caliber of Em, but I knew how to brawl.

  “I know,” he growled at me, unhappy that his prize fighter’s weakness was so easy to spot. “He’s better than he was a year ago, by a lot, plus he’s younger and faster than his opponent. The win is practically guaranteed.” Emmett’s eyes never left the big man in the ring, working on his combos and defense moves.

  I nodded at his words, listening even though I knew something that Emmett didn’t. The outcome of the fight had already been decided, the only thing necessary was for Ravager to do what the fuck he was told.