Wed
Aug 2 2017 9:30am

Lora Leigh’s Collision Point Prologue is Revealed!

Collision Point by Lora Leigh

Today we're so thrilled to get a first taste of Lora Leigh's Collision Point. Last month we revealed the brand new look for the Brute Force series, which would be launching with the story of Rory Malone, and now we get to share the beginning of this story with the prologue of Collision Point. Learn more about Rory's story before diving in to an excerpt below!

Riordan “Rory” Malone is a force to be reckoned with. A member of the Brute Force Protection Agency and an operative working with the Elite Ops, Rory is the fiercest of warriors and protectors.  Honed from the strong Irish stock of their grandfather and sharpened to a razor’s edge, Malone men live for one single purpose: to protect the women who own them, body and soul. From the moment he saw Amara Resnova, he knew she could be that woman.

But Amara, daughter of an alleged notorious crime lord, is a force in her own right. When she betrays her father, she’s finds herself in the arms of a man who is dangerous for her body and soul.

Can Rory keep Amara safe while protecting his own heart? Can Amara trust Rory not to break hers even as the danger mounts, threatening to take them and their passion to a breaking point?

Get a sneak peek at Lora Leigh's Collision Point (available March 27, 2018) with an exclusive excerpt of the Prologue!

Prologue

“What took you so long?” The words rasped from the young woman’s swollen, split and bleeding lips.

The beauty she had been weeks before was marred by the heavy fists that had landed repeatedly on her fragile face.

Her once long, inky black hair was chopped off to only a few inches that covered her scalp, and the clothes she wore were stained with far too much blood.

Riordan ‘Rory’ Malone could feel the rage crawling up his back, moving steadily to explode at the base of his skull as he crouched in front of her, his palm cupping her cheek with a ghostly touch. Just enough to feel the warmth of her, to assure himself she was actually there, she was actually alive.

“Your father,” he muttered, finally answering her as his brother, Noah, swept the bright pinpoint of light of her fragile body. “He had me locked in a cell until he could get a team together.”

“Liar,” she whispered as she tried to smile.

He wished he was lying.

That was exactly what Ivan Resnova had done only moments before informing Riordan of Amara’s kidnapping. The man would pay for that as soon as Riordan returned to the main offices of Brute Force Security Services with Amara safe.

“I wouldn’t lie to you baby,” he reminded her. How many times had he promised he’d never lie to her, and still, she refused to trust him.

“What happened when you left, Riordan? Why did you leave me?” Pain and tears filled her voice, making him crazy. The sound clawed at his chest, tore at the control he’d fought for over the years. “Why didn’t you tell me goodbye?”

“Because it wasn’t goodbye.” The light paused, high on her legs, pulling his attention to the blood heavily staining the light-colored denim.

God help him, what had they done to her?

“Amara, I’m going to have to move you.” Lifting his gaze to the shattered blue of her eyes he steeled himself for the pain he knew he was going to cause her. “Tell me what hurts worse.”

He knew the breaks, the wounds, but he needed her talking, needed her focused.

“Broken ankle,” she said then. “At least one broken rib and they broke my wrist to make certain I couldn’t get up the ladder.” Her gaze moved to the crudely built ladder extending from the trap door in the floor above. “Get out of here, Riordan. Please. You know it’s a trap. Get out now.”

He knew a lot of things, just as he knew there were men positioned outside to ensure their exit.

“As soon as I have you ready to transport. Now, rein in that sailors' tongue of yours while I secure these breaks. Remember, your daddy’s on the link. We don’t want to upset him by letting him hear what a wicked tongue you have.”

Panic flashed in her expression, in her eyes. Yeah, she knew her father and she knew exactly what the sound of her curses, or her screams, would do to him.

“He should be arrested.” It was her favorite curse where her father was concerned.

He heard the love in the accusation though, the belief that he was far better than believed, more honorable than others saw.

“Do something about it then.” Arranging the supplies he needed Riordan stared down at her, forcing himself to hold back the agony he could feel threatening to weaken him as her head settled weakly against the side of his arm, a whimper whispering from her lips as Nathan secured her wrist first.

“Okay. We’re going to do this, baby so we can haul your butt out of here,” he encouraged her, feeling the ragged pain burning his guts at Nathan’s signal that they had to secure her ribs next.

Behind him, Micah and Nik caught the metal life basket they’d use to pull her from the deep cavern to the opening above. Even secured in the basket, the trip up would be painful and there was no way to make it easier.

“Not going to happen.” She sighed as though resigned to that fact. “There’s no way you can get me out, whether you bind these breaks or not.”

He almost laughed at the certainty in her tone.

“Have a little faith in me for once.” He ignored the bitter slash of memory that assured him just how little faith she did have in him.

“It’s not a lack of faith in you,” she told him, her voice weary as she lifted her head, allowing him to ease the torn material of her shirt above her ribs to allow Noah to tape the area of the break. “I know what you’re facing. Get your men out of here… You get out of here. I won’t let you die for me…”

“Shut up,” he snapped, “We’re going out together, stubborn ass or neither of us will go out. Take your pick.”

Even as he spoke, he considered and weighed options, forcing himself to ignore her pain filled, smothered sobs

Her strangled cries destroyed him. The sharp, ragged scream she cut off the second it left her lips had a curse slipping free.

He’d once thought nothing could have been worse than hearing his sister-in-law, Bella’s, screams of grief when his brother had been reported dead years before. The agony of holding Bella and dealing with both their grief at the same time was marked as the most painful time of his life.

This surpassed it.

How had he managed to let this woman so close to him in such a short amount of time? So close that the need to murder the men who had done this to her was burning inside him like an inferno threatening to rage out of control. Threatening to destroy the man he had been and leaving in its wake nothing but pure fury and the soul of a man laid bare.

 

The agonizing pain had her crying out even knowing the raw, ragged fury that would be consuming her father if he were truly listening through the link the agents wore.

Riordan and another agent tried to secure the breaks and stabilize them as much as possible, but still, movement was the enemy, Movement, and fear. She knew the men that beat her were expecting a rescue force. She’d told Riordan they were expecting her father to send someone after her, they’d be waiting. But he refused to listen.

“Almost there, baby,” he assured her as he moved up the ladder, staying next to her as the basket they’d secured her in was hauled up the expense of the cavern they’d thrown her into.

“They’re waiting,” she whispered again, pain and fear building in her mind, through her senses. “They’re waiting.”

“Noah and several friends of his are waiting topside,” he promised her. “You remember Noah, right?”

His voice was calm. So calm and so confident.

And she did remember Noah. Remembered seeing the man Riordan introduced as a good friend, as well as the three men that hadn’t been introduced at all when she’d caught them meeting with Riordan and her father in the Resnova penthouse months before.

They were hard, dangerous men, she’d seen that immediately. But they weren’t inhuman. They weren’t immortal.

“Don’t die for me.” She couldn’t let him do that. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

A sob tore from her and immediately sent a wave of agony tearing through her mind as the broken rib protested the movement. The haze of white-hot pain raced through her, stealing her breath, and for a moment, her very senses.

Dead men…

They were dead men…

“Easy baby. Easy. Here we go. Let’s get you out of here…” It was his voice that drew her back from the darkness waiting to take her, from the soul-shattering knowledge that the enemy was waiting.

“Copters moving in,” one of the men suddenly surrounding her reported, his tone dark, steel hard. “Evac in three.”

It was going to happen, she could feel it.

“Riordan, leave…” she gasped, feeling the basket level, looking up into the dark, shadowed faces of the two men supporting it as Riordan and the other agents with him surrounded them, covering them.

“Copter in sight,” Riordan stated as the sound of blades beating in the air could be heard in the distance.

It was coming.

“Get him out…” She stared at the shadowed face of the man at her feet. “You have to stop this.” Blue eyes stared back at her. Like Riordan’s. Eyes that bore into hers. “You have to…”

“Riordan, take the basket,” the shadow snapped, the authority and clear command in his voice causing the others around them to tense, to watch the night closer.

“Copter’s landing,” Riordan growled. “No time. Move out. Now…”

The first shot was fired.

“Now… Move out…”

They were running for the helicopter, racing for it, fireflies filling the darkness, the sharp explosions echoing around her as she fought to keep her eyes on Riordan.

“Go… Go…” The shadow holding the bottom of the basket pushed it to another of the dark shapes firing back as she watched Riordan fall.

“No! Riordan!” She fought against the pain, struggled against the restraints holding her in the basket.

“Get her out…” He was almost on his feet, almost, when he suddenly stiffened, his back bowing before a shadow caught him, threw him over his shoulder and ran.

They were all running, racing…

“We’re losing him… We’re losing him…” A voice shouted out as the helicopter was lifting off, banking and shooting across the sky. “Goddammit, Micah do something. Rory… Rory don’t you do it, damn you… Don’t you fuckin’ die on me…”

She felt him. Amara swore she felt his heart stop, felt him give up and leave her. She felt him die and she wanted nothing more… nothing more… than to die with him.

She’d already lost too much that night, she couldn’t bear losing more.

“Don’t leave me…” she whispered, giving in to the darkness, to the comforting embrace of nothing. “Please, don’t leave me…”

***

Copyright © 2018 by Lora Leigh. 
***

Learn more about or pre-order a copy of Collision Point by Lora Leigh, available March 27, 2018:

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Lora Leigh lives in the rolling hills of Kentucky, often found absorbing the ambience of this peaceful setting. She dreams in bright, vivid images of the characters intent on taking over her writing life, and fights a constant battle to put them on the hard drive of her computer before they can disappear as fast as they appeared.

Lora's family, and her writing life co-exist, if not in harmony, in relative peace with each other. Surrounded by a menagerie of pets, friends, and a teenage son who keeps her quick wit engaged, Lora's life is filled with joys, aided by her fans whose hearts remind her daily why she writes.

 

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