Rebecca Zanetti - Sweet Revenge

I appreciate the assistance I’ve received in getting this book to readers, and I hope I didn’t forget anybody. If I have, I truly apologize. Many people worked hard to make this book happen, and I am very grateful.

As always, big thank-yous go out to Tony, Gabe, and Karlina, my family. Thanks for the support and fun! Thanks for giving me the time and quiet to write at the lake this summer up on the deck… and feeding me throughout the day as I finished this book. I love you!

A big thanks to my agent, Caitlin Blasdell, who works so hard and has such wonderful insights… and who has the tough job of reminding me to relax and enjoy the moment just when I need to hear that. Thanks also to whole group at Liza Dawson Associates. I’m honored to be part of the Dawson gang.

To my brilliant editor, Michele Bidelspach, thank you for the wonderful edits—and for searching out the places in the book that required more emotion. I like that you push me to go deeper into the characters and their emotions, and I hope the final book shows how hard we worked. Thanks to Megha Parekh for all the timely updates, and thank you to copy editor Janet Robbins and production editor Jamie Snider for the excellent work. Thank you also to everyone at Grand Central who has worked so tirelessly on getting this book to readers.

Thank you to Kelly Mueller at Books-n-Kisses , Sue Brown-Moore at GraveTells , and Joy Harris at Joyfully Reviewed for hanging out with me at conferences, and also for your support. I love talking books with you ladies! Also, thank you to Carla Gallway for your hard work.

Thank you to my street team, Rebecca’s Realm Runners. You are so much fun, and you give me so much support. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have a soft place to land on Facebook.

Thank you to Dr. Robert Holman, Dr. Richard McLandress, and Dr. Fred Ambrose for answering my many, often bizarre, questions about medicine and the body. Also for keeping me alive and well during surgery. Any factual inaccuracies in this book are mine and mine alone, because sometimes fiction has to leave reality behind, even for a little while.

And as always, thank you to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Donald West, Brandie and Mike Chapman, Jessica and Jonah Namson, and Kathy and Herb Zanetti.

Southern Tennessee Hills

Twenty Years Ago

Matt stood at attention, the cold block walls sending chills to his bones. Yet he stood straight, shoulders back, face blank. Based on his size and strength, he figured he was about twelve years old. He’d killed, and he’d almost died for reasons he didn’t understand. Now he’d earned answers.

Another boy stood next to him, also not moving.

The commander glanced up from his metal desk, black eyes flashing. “You demanded to see me, Cadet Matthew?”

“Yes, sir.” Matt relaxed his stance, arms behind his back. Fatigue weighed down his limbs, but he refused to show any weak emotions. He ignored the woman sitting at the corner table as she furiously scribbled in her ever-present notebook. Dr. Madison did nothing but poke around inside his head, and he was tired of her.

The commander nodded at the other boy standing at attention. “Cadet Emery, your hand-to-hand fight yesterday was excellent, but you nearly killed another cadet.” The man’s tone held respect and… pride. Yeah, that was pride. “We don’t want our own cadets killing each other.”

Emery was probably a year older than Matt, and his voice had already dropped low. “If he didn’t want to die, sir, he should’ve fought harder.”

The commander chuckled. “You make a good point, young man. You’re dismissed.”

Matt fought nausea. Emery was an asshole who liked to hurt people, and he acted like his younger brothers were expendable, and only there to back him up. The commander seemed to enjoy the psycho’s exploits. If the bastard came after one of his three brothers, Matt would take him down. Hard.

The reality of how far Matt would go nibbled away at his façade of calmness. The line between right and wrong had been blurry ever since he could remember, but now the division didn’t exist. To protect his brothers, he’d become the monster the scientists had engineered. That truth squeezed his lungs as strong as any grappling clinch hold.

Emery saluted and pivoted to leave, slamming his shoulder into Matt’s arm.

Matt growled. Someday he and Emery were going to have it out. But for now, Matt had another problem to deal with. “I saw the transfer orders for Jory.”

“So?” The commander lifted one dark eyebrow.

Unease slithered down Matt’s spine. The knife in his boot warmed while his heartbeat thrashed in his ears. Still, he kept his voice calm. “I want to know where my youngest brother is being sent.”

“Wherever I choose to send him. Dismissed.” The commander returned to his paperwork.

“No.” The word rang through the barren room.

Dr. Madison gasped. The commander stilled and then slowly lifted his head. “Excuse me?”

Matt’s mouth dried up. He shifted his leg forward three centimeters in case he needed to go for the knife. “I said no.”

Metal scraped when the commander pushed away from the desk and stood. “Cadet Matthew, you are dismissed.”

It took every ounce of will Matt had to remain in place and not run from the man who stood at least a foot taller than he. For now. A sick sense of dread accompanied dots crossing his vision. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on with my brother.”

The commander’s lip twisted. He narrowed his gaze, and silence wrapped around the room. “Fine. Jory is too small and not strong enough to be a cadet here. So we’re sending him to another camp.”

“Bullshit.” The word shocked Matt as it slipped out of his mouth. His teeth ground together. “We both know what happens to cadets who don’t make it here. Don’t we?”

The commander smiled in a way that rolled Matt’s gut. “You don’t know anything, Cadet.”

Yeah, but he had an idea. Kids who disappeared never showed up again. Maybe there was another camp, most likely not. Regardless, he couldn’t protect his family if they weren’t with him. They genetically came from the same father, had the same gray eyes, and the same build. There was no question they were family, even though they had been created in test tubes and had never met their parents. “You are not taking my brother.” He enunciated each word, careful to coat over the Southern accent that got them shoved in the brig. His legs tensed, and his shoulders drew back in a fighting stance that came naturally to him.

For his brothers, he’d kill now if necessary. Good thing he’d brought the blade.

Dr. Madison returned to her notebook, pursing her lips as she wrote. “This is interesting,” she mused.

“You have two other younger brothers to worry about, and considering Shane’s last blade-fighting test, you’d better worry about him.” The commander stalked around his desk. “Nathan, on the other hand, is quite safe here.”

Nathan had fighting skills beyond anybody else at camp, but his obsession with perfection from himself and everyone around him was going to get him killed. Matt feared the day he exploded. “You get all four of us, or you get none of us.” His shoulders tensed and wanted to shake. “Jory is only around seven years old. He will grow, and he’ll get stronger. I’ll make sure of it.”