Wrecked Read online

  PRAISE FOR

  THE DEPARTED

  “[Walker] delivers an outstanding story fraught with sexual tension and a spine-tingling mystery. The Departed will keep readers turning pages faster than they think trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Walker fans will be captivated by this fast-paced story with passionate characters and a suspenseful plot that will leave their emotions bare. A well-crafted combination of paranormal, romance, and suspense, this book has everything.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “An entertaining romantic urban fantasy police procedural.”

  —Genre Go Round Reviews

  “Chilling [and] heart-wrenching . . . A richly emotional and wildly imaginative story that grips the reader with genuine, vivacious characters and a sinuous, flowing plot.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  THE MISSING

  “Suspense that can rip your heart open and leave you raw . . . The characters are absolutely fantastic, from the leads to the side characters.”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “Walker pulls it off brilliantly . . . [She] certainly has a future in paranormal and/or romantic suspense.”

  —The Romance Reader

  “Great romantic suspense that grips the audience.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  CHAINS

  “This book is a double page-turner. The story is thrilling, and the sex just makes it better—two great reasons not to put it down until the end!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Breathtakingly wonderful . . . Smoothly erotic . . . Utterly amazing . . . Will definitely keep your pulse racing!”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “Exciting erotic romantic suspense.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  FRAGILE

  “[A] flawlessly sexy suspense novel . . . Exhilarating.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “An excellently crafted mystery and romance!”

  —Errant Dreams Reviews

  “Suspense, romance, and an ending that I can’t say anything about—because that would be a spoiler . . . I recommend reading this one.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Intense, sexy . . . Ms. Walker has created another unforgettable . . . fast-paced, edgy tale.”

  —Fallen Angel Reviews

  HUNTER’S FALL

  “Shiloh’s books are sinfully good, wickedly sexy, and wildly imaginative!”

  —Larissa Ione, New York Times bestselling author

  HUNTER’S NEED

  “A perfect ten! . . . [A] riveting tale that I couldn’t put down and wanted to read again as soon as I finished.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  HUNTER’S SALVATION

  “One of the best tales in a series that always achieves high marks . . . An excellent thriller.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  HUNTERS: HEART AND SOUL

  “Some of the best erotic romantic fantasies on the market. Walker’s world is vibrantly alive with this pair.”

  —The Best Review

  HUNTING THE HUNTER

  “Action, sex, savvy writing, and characters with larger-than-life personalities that you will not soon forget are where Ms. Walker’s talents lie, and she delivered all that and more.”

  —A Romance Review

  “An exhilarating romantic fantasy filled with suspense and . . . star-crossed love . . . Action-packed.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Fast-paced and very readable . . . Titillating.”

  —The Romance Reader

  “Action-packed, with intriguing characters and a very erotic punch, Hunting the Hunter had me from page one. Thoroughly enjoyable with a great hero and a story line you can sink your teeth into, this book is a winner.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Another promising voice is joining the paranormal genre by bringing her own take on the ever-evolving vampire myth. Walker has set up the bones of an interesting world and populated it with some intriguing characters.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  Titles by Shiloh Walker

  HUNTING THE HUNTER

  HUNTERS: HEART AND SOUL

  HUNTER’S SALVATION

  HUNTER’S NEED

  HUNTER’S FALL

  HUNTER’S RISE

  THROUGH THE VEIL

  VEIL OF SHADOWS

  THE MISSING

  THE DEPARTED

  THE REUNITED

  FRAGILE

  BROKEN

  WRECKED

  CHAINS

  Anthologies

  HOT SPELL

  (with Emma Holly, Lora Leigh, and Meljean Brook)

  PRIVATE PLACES

  (with Robin Schone, Claudia Dain, and Allyson James)

  HOT IN HANDCUFFS

  (with Shayla Black and Sylvia Day)

  WRECKED

  Shiloh Walker

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  USA / Canada / UK / Ireland / Australia / New Zealand / India / South Africa / China

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  For more information about the Penguin Group, visit penguin.com.

  WRECKED

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with Shiloh Walker, Inc.

  Copyright © 2013 by Shiloh Walker, Inc.

  Excerpt from The Protected by Shiloh Walker copyright © 2013 by Shiloh Walker, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-0-425-26445-4

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-101-60745-9

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market paperback edition / April 2013

  Cover art by Diego Cervo/Shutterstock.

  Cover design by S. Miroque.

  Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.

  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 actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Contents

  Praise

  Also by Shiloh Walker

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  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 Eig
hteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Special Preview of The Protected

  Dedicated to my excellent agent, Irene, who keeps me sane. HelenKay Dimon, who loves to lend an ear, and a couple of awesome readers who spent a wonderful weekend in Tucson with my husband and me . . . that was where I discovered the idea for this book. Thanks, E, Minn, and Shimmy!

  And always for my family . . . I love you!

  Inspired by the wonderfully fun

  Wreck This Journal

  by Keri Smith.

  My Life by Thirty

  1. Own my own catering business (goal met age 26)

  2. Buy my own house—no fucking condos, damn it (goal met age 28)

  3. Get a boyfriend—a serious one (goal met age 28)

  4. Get married (June 4!!!!)

  5. Sever all ties with female parental unit and never go back (goal met age 18)

  Chapter One

  Standing in front of the neat little writing desk, Abigale Applegate stared at the journal. Back when she’d made out the list, she hadn’t had much of an idea of what a business plan was. Oh, she’d heard the term. Her agent had tossed it around during brainstorming sessions with her mother. Her mother would then loftily discuss it with people in whatever social circle she’d decided to torment with her presence.

  After all, a business plan, a life plan . . . some sort of plan was necessary for a child star. Because a child star wasn’t going to be a real star once she grew up without having some sort of plan, her mother had liked to point out.

  Yeah, she’d heard the phrase before. Over and over, ad nauseum.

  But Abigale hadn’t understood it.

  There had been times when she’d heard the damn phrase so much, she’d just wanted to scream. But then she’d come to realize, it wasn’t the planning that bothered her.

  It was the fact that somebody else was doing the planning.

  Somebody else was in control.

  Right up until she turned seventeen and seized control herself. Wrested it away from her mother in an ugly court battle and made her life her own. She’d left the house only hours after her father’s funeral, but it had taken months to finalize everything in court, and her mother had fought it every step of the way. Of course she’d fought it; if Abigale was on her own, then her dearest mother couldn’t spend all the money Abigale had made. It was during those long, endless months of fighting everything out in court that Abigale had come up with her own plan. She would plan out her own life. Get away from her mother, the life her mother had mapped out, and all those manipulative plans to control her life and force her back into a world where she no longer belonged.

  Abigale Applegate had grown up and at seventeen she was no longer cute little Kate from a show that had once made millions of people laugh.

  Back when she was a kid, she’d been “discovered,” landing a starring role in a sitcom, Kate + Nate, but those two cute kids no longer existed. Kate had grown up. Nate had joined the army and died a heroic death.

  Her co-star Zach Barnes had done some bit acting for a while and then decided to call it quits and go to school.

  Abigale had called it quits and run as far away from Hollywood as she could get. She didn’t want to be an actress.

  She just wanted a normal life. A normal job. A home. A husband. Kids.

  And up until two hours ago, she’d thought it was all within her reach. That final goal, only two months away: get married. A knot the size of the Grand Canyon seemed to have settled in her throat and she couldn’t breathe around it.

  Her fiancé had just dumped her, the son of a bitch. That egotistical, stupid, blind son of a bitch.

  I’m sorry, Abigale, but you’re not being true to yourself. How can I marry a woman who won’t be true to herself? How can I trust you to be true to me? Roger had watched her with sad, compassionate eyes and the entire time she’d wanted to hit him.

  She’d kept the wild impulse under control, just like she kept all her wild impulses under control. She didn’t give in to crazy urges and she didn’t dance in the rain; she’d never had a torrid affair and she hated chaos. That didn’t mean she wasn’t being true to herself.

  Abigale knew what she wanted, damn it.

  Tears burned her eyes and she blinked them away.

  You are an actress . . . a star. Why do you pretend otherwise?

  “Conceited ass.” She dashed the back of one hand across her eyes. A star? She tried not to think about how often he’d thrown in lines like Abigale is an actress and the little jokes he’d liked to make about how they wouldn’t always be in Arizona—bigger and better things ahead for Abigale!

  She’d told him more than once that she was done with that life. And how many times had he patted her hand, running off at the mouth about how she just needed to think of the right way back. She’d tried to tell herself he was just being supportive in case she wanted to go back, to let her know he’d be there for her.

  Feeling nauseated, and so damned angry, she had to acknowledge the truth now. He wasn’t being supportive. He’d wanted her back in that life. It was his way of catching the limelight; she’d met too many users not to realize it, but how could it have taken her so long? Had he loved her at all, or had he just been with her because of the life she used to live?

  The son of a bitch had no idea what being a star meant. It had been hard back then and it would be even harder now.

  Anger burned inside her even now. He was wrong. She didn’t miss anything about that life. She didn’t miss the early morning calls, the invasion of her privacy—and hello, that still happened. And although it hadn’t been as much of an issue during her career, she knew she’d never be able to deal with the current physical standards being impressed on women in the entertainment industry.

  Abigale kept in shape because she enjoyed it, but she was a size ten and by Hollywood’s standards, that was borderline grotesque. She’d seen some of the gossip rags when they caught pictures of her. They only bothered when there was nothing else going on because she was old news and she only showed up in California when she was visiting friends. Their main bitch was her weight.

  Her favorite headline was THE SAD STATE OF CUTIE KATE’S CURRENT LIFE . . . HER WEIGHT HAS GONE OUT OF CONTROL!

  And Roger thought she missed that life?

  Clenching her jaw, she reached for the pen on her desk and carefully drew a line through goal number four. Then she focused on the list itself. It was worn and faded, the paper thin from how often she’d handled it. It had been years since she’d all but run screaming from the home her mother had purchased. Ran away, just hours after her father’s funeral, and she didn’t regret leaving. Not once.

  The writing blurred before her eyes but she blinked until it became clear and then she reached out, touching the faded ink. This list had been her guiding light, the driving force behind her entire life.

  “Now what?” Abigale whispered.

  Because she had absolutely no idea what to do next, she turned away and walked across the pale green carpet and sank down on the bed. She curled up on her side and pulled a pillow to her chest, closing her eyes.

  She wasn’t going to cry about this, damn it.

  She wasn’t.

  * * *

  Zach Barnes read the note. Then he dropped it, pressed his fingers to his eyes, and rubbed. He’d been up late last night, working on some designs. He was tired. That was all. He’d read it again and the message would be different.

  He knew it.

  But when he picked it back up, the message remained the same.

  Abby called. Wedding is off.

  The wedding. The day he’d been dreading for the past year. He had it circled in black marker on his calendar and although nobody else knew, he’d taken to calling it “Black Saturday.” The bleakest fucking day of his entire life . . . the day the woman he loved was going t
o marry somebody else.

  It was two months away and he’d been wishing like hell he could be anywhere else, do anything else, even if it involved hot coals, torture, and fire ants. But when your best friend was getting married, you had to be there. Especially when she’d asked you to give her away.

  He was going to have to walk her down the aisle. He was going to have to lift her damn veil . . . So what if it was viscerally painful for him? It didn’t matter that he’d been in love with her his entire life. She’d found the man she wanted to marry and it wasn’t him. He had to deal with it, right?

  Except this message said the wedding was off. It wasn’t adding up in his head. He’d wanted this, but hadn’t dared to hope. He wanted Abby to be happy, but happy meant not being with him, apparently. Talk about a conundrum, because for him to have what he wanted, it involved Abby not getting what she wanted. And now, he felt half sick with guilt, even though he’d never done or said anything to get in her way.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  Carefully, he folded the note into a neat little square, slid it into his back pocket, and then looked up. He’d gotten into work early. He usually did, even when he couldn’t sleep, because he still got a thrill when he walked through Steel Ink.

  His own place. Yeah, it was a little tattoo shop tucked off 4th Avenue in Tucson near the university. It was one of probably close to a dozen and in the first few years, he hadn’t been sure if he’d make it or not. But he was doing fine.

  Not a lot of people had taken him seriously when he’d decided this was what he wanted to do with his life. Well, his folks had. Even if his mother had been mildly horrified at first. She loved him dearly and he adored her, but she still couldn’t quite comprehend this part of him.

  It didn’t matter, though. This place made him happy and that was all that mattered to her.

  In the back, he saw a black-and-white striped head of hair. Keelie was the only other person who’d get in this early. They didn’t unlock the doors until one on Sundays, but she was like him, and just loved being here. She was his partner. She should love being here.