The Kingdom: Preacher Brothers 1 Read online

  The Kingdom

  Preacher Brothers, 1

  Jenika Snow

  THE KINGDOM (PREACHER BROTHERS, 1)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © December 2019 by Jenika Snow

  First ebook publication © December 2019 Jenika Snow

  Cover design by: Lori Jackson

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  Content Editor: Kayla Robichaux

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The Preacher Boys.

  That’s what they called us.

  Four brothers born and raised in the criminal lifestyle… in stealing.

  Professional thieves. That’s what we were. And we were damn good at it. Take what we wanted with no regrets, no repercussions. We didn’t have attachments, no worries, and sure as hell no women to screw up the plan. And that’s what made our lives work.

  The job was set—should have been an in-and-out situation. Easy.

  But then I saw her, Amelia, and she wasn’t part of the plan. I instantly wanted her, had to have her. She was like this drug, and I was desperately addicted.

  I’d do anything, whatever it took to make her mine.

  When her life was in danger, when it was Cullen, my own brother, about to hurt her, there was only one thing I could do.

  Take her, keep her with me, and make her see she was meant to be mine.

  But to Cullen, she was a liability. He wouldn’t stop, not when all he could see was making sure the family was safe, that the Preacher Boys were in the clear.

  What he didn’t know was, family or not, Amelia was the one thing I’d always wanted, and I wouldn’t let anyone take her away from me.

  Chapter One

  Dom

  It was almost as good as sex. Hell, in some instances, it was better than having a tight little piece of ass in my bed.

  I was a professional fucking thief. This was what I did for a living. This was what got me hard.

  My blood raced, my heart pounded, and adrenaline pumped through my veins.

  Despite what we were about to do—lift from this motherfucking jewelry store—my mind was crystal clear. It always was. It had to be. Any error, any small discrepancy in the plan, would mean we’d get pinched. No way were any of us going back to fucking jail.

  I focused on the jewelry store across the street and brought the walkie-talkie up to my mouth. “Frankie?” I prompted into the piece of plastic, hearing static before the click of him answering.

  “We’re all set,” he said, and I shoved the walkie into the glovebox.

  I turned my attention toward Wilder, who sat in the driver seat. Cullen was with Frankie at the back of the store, making sure things went smoothly on their end. I had my skull mask looped around my neck but reached down and pulled it up, covering the lower half of my face.

  I looked at Wilder and watched as he did the same thing. He looked over at me, the white grinning skull jaw on the black material looking a little ominous.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  He nodded once in response. I focused forward once more, then looked down at my watch. The sun had already set, the lights in the store were off, and foot traffic was nonexistent.

  “Owner was the only one left. Should be easy enough to get this done.” Wilder’s voice was muffled behind the fabric.

  We’d been casing the jewelry store over the last week. We knew when they took their lunches, when shift change was. We knew what time the mailman dropped off their fucking letters and when the shipments arrived. And on this Thursday—today—they were due to get a box full of gems and diamonds.

  It sure as fuck helped that the truck driver was an old cellmate of Frankie’s and had given us the tip. We’d kick him back a few for his troubles, and that would be that.

  And then the front lights went off in the store, the owner pulling down the security bars over the window, and that was our cue. Wilder and I got out of the van, one that said Harrison Brothers Dry Cleaning and Services on the side. We wore matching uniforms, the name John stitched on the upper right-hand corner of Wilder’s shirt, and Clark stitched on mine.

  Once across the street, we pressed our bodies up against the side of the building and looked around, making sure shit was legit and quiet. I looked over at Wilder and he nodded once.

  And then we moved to the back, where we could see Cullen and Frankie sitting in the old-as-fuck sedan Cullen stole earlier today. The car was parked between the two buildings, the alley dark, no light penetrating.

  Frankie and Cullen sat in the front seat, their skull masks covering the lower half of their faces, same as us.

  The gem and diamond shipment had just been received an hour before. And although the vault the store had was pretty heavy duty, it wasn’t anything Wilder—our master locksmith and hacker—couldn’t crack.

  “Four cameras on the exterior, two in the front, one on the side, and two in the back,” I spat as I double-checked my gear.

  “Ready, Clark?” Wilder teased as he looked down at my name badge.

  I lifted my hand and flipped him off.

  Although we didn’t specifically need these fake-as-fuck uniforms, portraying something we weren’t was half the way to not getting caught. The other half was knowing how to get shit done and get it done right.

  Look like you’re someone else. Act like you own the world. That’s how we succeeded in what we did.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and Cullen and Frankie climbed out of the car, with Frankie going to the trunk and opening it. He grabbed the black duffel and closed the lid silently. The duffel held all the tools Wilder would need for cracking the safe, as well as a few items we’d need to clean up afterward.

  Cullen handed out the black beanies and we put them on.

  “We’ll look like a couple of punk assholes,” Cullen said, and we all grunted in approval.

  “Better to look like a bunch of punk assholes than be identified and be motherfuckers behind bars,” Wilder said in a gruff voice. I tipped my chin toward the building and we all started moving forward. We could bullshit later. Until then, it was time to focus.

  Chapter Two

  Amelia

  I rubbed my eyes, the table lamp in front of me bright and slightly blinding, but it allowed me to see the inventory forms in front of me, the ones that were printed so small I practically needed a damn magnifying glass to read them.

  Richard was in the front doing a last-minute sweep of what we needed to order, which was the reason I’d agreed to stay and help. It was the end of the month check, and I always felt so bad he had to do the shit all by himself.

  He was old and a widower, having lost his wife five years ago, and I knew this jewelry store was his life. Hell, he and his wife had opened it over twenty years ago, something she’d dreamed about starting, and he hadn’t denied her. And it had turned out to be very successful. I kind of thought of him as the father I’d never really had. Not to mention he worked around my school schedule.

  I felt a twinge of guilt at that last thought.

  A shitty childhood, an abusive father, and a mother who was looking for love in all the wrong places and had ignored me on most occasions. But I’d adapted, grown into the person I was today. And that’s what mattered. Then Richard had given me a job, a young girl with no work history, who’d come in to the interview with a ripped blouse and stained slacks. He hired me and over the years had become someone I trusted and cared about.

  But what would Richard think or say if he knew I actually wasn’t even going to school anymore, that I didn’t register for classes because my financial aid had fallen through and I just couldn’t afford it?

  Would he be disappointed? Would he consider me a liar, a failure?

  Or maybe he’d understand that life happened, that I had to eat and pay my rent, and there was always next fall, or even summer classes.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands, so exhausted that all these numbers were starting to blend together. Technically, I wasn’t even licensed to be doing this stuff, but Richard trusted me. He knew I’d never screw him over.

  I heard something out the back door but didn’t pay m
uch attention to it. With the tattoo shop right next door, and the bar directly behind us, there was usually commotion in the ally in the form of drunken people or friends loitering. But it being a Thursday night and rather late meant those other two businesses were closed.

  I leaned back in my chair and stared at the paperwork, grabbing a pen and marking inventory. The sooner I got this done, the sooner I could go home, maybe take a long, hot bubble bath, drink a glass of wine… or three.

  Another five minutes passed, when I heard a thump at the front of the store. Being in the back office meant I was kind of secluded, with the door shut and a row of filing cabinets blocking my view. I listened, not hearing anything and about to go back to work, when I heard a very muffled, deep grunt.

  I stood, feeling my brows knit as I stared at the door, which I could now see over the row of stainless steel gray filing cabinets. “Richard?” I called out his name and waited a second, not hearing him and growing a little bit concerned. He was old, so maybe he’d fallen, hit his head on a display case?

  I took a step forward, but before I could reach the back door, there was a buzzing sound behind me. I looked over my shoulder just as it was thrown open, two very big men storming inside dressed in what appeared to be some kind of dry cleaning uniform. But it was clear they were here for a very different reason, if their skull masks were anything to go by.

  For a moment, I was frozen, unable to move or think or speak. I heard more commotion coming from the front of the store, but I couldn’t even think or react. And as one of the men came closer, it was finally as if an electrical charge shot through my body and I snapped into action.

  Both men stared at me, the one closest to me moving an inch closer. I stared into his blue eyes, his dark eyebrows visible and a sharp contrast to the crisp color of his irises.

  My survival instincts coursed through me. I darted for the front of the store—my only exit, since they were still blocking the rear entrance. But before I could reach out and grip the handle, one of the men grabbed my upper arm. His touch was like fire, singeing me, seeping into my bloodstream. It wasn’t painful, but I couldn’t deny how it made me feel or explain why I felt it so pronounced.

  I gasped out on instinct and looked over my shoulder to see Blue Eyes staring down at me. “Easy,” he said softly. God, he was big and muscular, making me feel like a tiny speck in his world. “I thought you said it was only the one asshole?” The man with the blue eyes was the one to speak, his focus never leaving me.

  “Yeah, I thought so too,” the other man answered, his gaze dark and dangerous, his eyes like spilled ink. Like the very devil himself. This man terrified me and I had no idea why. His voice was deep and serrated, cruel and violent.

  “It was only supposed to be that one motherfucker,” Blue Eyes said again, and I swallowed in fear as I pressed my back to the wall, his hand no longer wrapped around me.

  The commotion in the front of the store was getting louder, seemingly more violent. I felt my eyes widen, tears tracking down my cheeks. The one with the dark eyes loomed over me; the only thing I could see on his face was his eyes, dark and lifeless as he looked at me. And those masks, those skeleton masks that were so damn terrifying, reminded me of death.

  “D, wanna go check on them?” he said to Blue Eyes.

  For a second, the one named D didn’t move, and I snapped my focus to him. He stood only a few feet from us, looking down at me, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Dude, you going or you want me to?”

  Blue Eyes looked at the other man then back at me. “Don’t touch her,” he said, and I looked at the scary man to see his brows knitted.

  “What the fuck?”

  But Blue Eyes gave me a look before turning, as if he was forcing himself to leave. I heard the door to the front of the store open. There was muffled conversation and deep voices. I heard Richard grunting in pain and felt my tears come harder and faster. I had to do something, anything.

  The man with the dark eyes looked over his shoulder, and I snapped my gaze to my desk, to where my cell phone lay.

  I jerked my head back in his direction just as he turned around to face me once more, his eyes narrowing. Was he smart enough, in tune enough with his surroundings, to know what I was thinking?

  I had a feeling that told me yeah, he probably was.

  Chapter Three

  Amelia

  “P-Please….” I’m not sure what I was begging for. My safety? My life? I assumed these men had no intention of killing us or they wouldn’t have their faces covered. But I didn’t know how the mind of a criminal worked. Maybe even desperate ones at that.

  And then a sliver of anger crept up that I’d resorted to begging in the first place.

  I slowly stood straighter, the wall to my back, my hands flat against it. I kept my focus right on him, my eyes locked on his. Fuck him—all of them—for making me feel this way. If he thought I was going to be their victim, if they thought I’d let them terrorize me... they were sadly mistaken.

  I lived with an abusive father, an absentee mother.

  He was nothing to me.

  He couldn’t do to me anything that hadn’t already been done.

  And then I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle as if he were grinning, maybe knowing my thoughts.

  “You gonna play by the rules, Red?”

  I narrowed my eyes at his little nickname, presumably because of my red hair.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You got fire in you.” His gaze dropped to my waist and I felt a chill move through me. “Wonder if you’re a natural redhead.”

  “Fuck you,” I spat out and clenched my teeth.

  Even with the mask on, I knew that pissed him off. Maybe my words weren’t what he was used to hearing, not something he was used to being directed at him.

  I didn’t know these men, these criminals, thieves, but I had no doubt they were used to getting what they wanted. Hell, they took what wasn’t theirs. The sense of entitlement in these pricks pissed me off.

  We were at this standstill, staring at each other, the sound of glass breaking coming from the front of the store. I had to do something. I wasn’t a hero, not by any means, but when I heard Richard grunt in pain again, something in me snapped. I wasn’t going to let the only person who gave a shit about me get hurt, not when I could try to stop it.

  I might fail, but doing nothing wasn’t trying. It was submitting, letting another asshole try to walk all over me.

  The masked asshole looked over his shoulder, his body partially turned. “What the fuck is going on out there? You guys are making so much noise.”

  I edged toward the desk, only a foot or so from me, reached out for my phone, and quickly moved back to where I had just been at the same time he turned to face me once more. I had my phone pressed to the back of my thigh, feeling my heart race, feeling like he knew what I’d done, that I was “guilty.” But he said nothing, just watched me.

  More glass breaking had the masked prick cursing. “What in the fuck?” He looked over his shoulder again. “One of you come in here and babysit, and I’ll go out there and get this shit done quietly.”

  I glanced down at my phone and started dialing.

  Nine.

  One.

  One.

  Before I could hit Enter, the phone was ripped from my hand and I gasped in shock.

  Something in me came alive and I lunged at him, knowing I had no chance. He was big, muscular. I was blinded by fear and anger, not just for myself but for Richard as well. Was he even alive?

  I reached up, my fingers curling around the material of his mask, and before I knew what was happening, I pulled it off. For a second time, I stood still as I stared up at him. His short dark hair was mussed, the pure rage on his face clear and tangible.