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  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to anyone that has had to spend time down in the gutter.

  It’s not where you are that matters, it’s what you make of where you are that does.

  ~We’re all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

  Oscar Wilde

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter 1: Brysen

  Chapter 2: Race

  Chapter 3: Brysen

  Chapter 4: Race

  Chapter 5: Brysen

  Chapter 6: Race

  Chapter 7: Brysen

  Chapter 8: Race

  Chapter 9: Brysen

  Chapter 10: Race

  Chapter 11: Brysen

  Chapter 12: Race

  Chapter 13: Brysen

  Chapter 14: Race

  Chapter 15: Brysen

  Chapter 16: Race

  Chapter 17: Brysen

  Chapter 18: Race

  Chapter 19: Brysen

  Chapter 20: Race

  Acknowledgments

  Better When He's Brave

  Better When He's Bad

  Excerpt

  Asa

  About the Author

  By Jay Crownover

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  INTRODUCTION

  THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT writing this series and spending time with these characters that makes me so happy. I love a challenge. I love a mess. I love something different and something that stretches me to do more and think harder.

  I want to personally thank every single one of you who continues on this wild ride with me. It matters so much to me that you let me stretch my wings and do more than just one kind of book. I have so many ideas, so many stories to tell, I almost think I can’t get them all out and I know I would suffocate on my own creativity if all I had to do was the same thing over and over again. I love you and I love that we get to keep traveling this crazy journey together.

  I know the Point and the boys that run it aren’t for everyone. I even understand that Race won’t be for everyone since he is very different from my typical rough-and-tumble boys. So it makes it extra special when I hear from those of you who like the change, in scenery and in men, because you have been there, have lived the hard life, or know someone who has, and appreciate the gutter getting as much love as the slick and polished big city. The dark side is fun . . . the boys who walk on it are something else.

  I’m always going to write what interests me, what speaks to me, what moves me, and what I find fascinating and intriguing. Along the way I’ve met so many cool book people who appreciate that.

  So enjoy the next dangerous installment of the Point series . . . here’s to chaos, here’s to blood, here’s to family, here’s to risk, here’s to chance, and most of all here’s to change because without it our view would never ever evolve and grow, no matter where we’re looking from.

  ~ Jay

  Welcome to the Point . . . where this time, fortune favors the bold!

  Chapter 1

  Brysen

  SOME MEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE to ignore. It’s like everyone else around them is moving in slow motion, like everyone else is painted in black and white and he’s the only spot of color; the only thing moving in the room. Race Hartman was that kind of man. Even though an entire room full of loud, drunk, and excited party people separated us, even though I doubted he knew I was at the same house party as he was, all I could see was him. Tall and blond with a face and body designed to make the fairer sex stupid with lust, he was undeniably beautiful and delicious, like everything that was bad for you tended to be. I didn’t want to keep staring, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was just that dynamic—just that bold—and in my world, where things were gray and lifeless, he was a sensory feast and I was happy to gorge.

  I missed the days when I just went to school, partied, had a good time, and acted like I didn’t have a care in the world. Those days were long gone, so I needed to stop gaping at Race like an idiot and get on with trying to enjoy the one night I had off from work and wasn’t needed at home. My little sister was at a sleepover, and my dad had agreed to stay home with my mom. It was a rare occurrence when I got to behave like a normal twenty-one-year-old, and I was squandering it by lusting after my best friend’s older brother, and probably the worst, most inappropriate guy in the entire world to have a crush on.

  “Do you know him?”

  My friend Adria was the one who had convinced me to come out tonight. I remembered parties like this being more fun. I took a sip of lukewarm beer out of a red plastic cup and fought the way my eyes wanted to magnetically drift to Race.

  “He’s Dovie’s older brother.”

  “Really?”

  Her disbelief was justified. Where Race looked regal, like some kind of golden god sent down to rule over us mere mortals, Dovie Pryce was a rumpled redhead covered in freckles and about as unobvious as one person could be. She was cute at best, not impressive and heart-stopping like her brother. She was also the nicest person in the world. I was pretty sure Race didn’t have a nice bone anywhere in his impressive body.

  My fingers curled around the cup tighter when his head turned and those mossy-green eyes met mine.

  “Really.” My voice was huskier than normal even to my own ears.

  “How can that be?”

  I liked Adria. We had Business Finance together and she was one of the few people who hadn’t ditched me when I was forced to move back home after everything with my mom went down. I didn’t have much fun anymore, which meant I didn’t have many friends anymore either. Trying to explain to her the complicated dynamics in the Hartman family, though, was not something I planned on spending the evening doing. Race and Dovie’s lineage wasn’t a story that was particularly good times, and that’s what I was after tonight—a good time.

  I gulped because Race was making his way through the crowd of dancing and grinding college students toward where we were standing. People just instinctively moved out of his way. It was like there was a force field of badass that surrounded him that only those who liked to live dangerously dared to test. I wasn’t one of those people. At least that’s what I told myself every time I was around him.

  Sure, I was dangerously attracted, had been ever since the first time I saw him when he dropped Dovie off at work, but he would never know. Race wasn’t a good guy and my life was hard enough without adding in the kind of complication he was bound to be.

  To keep Race and those traitorous feelings at bay, I was awful to him . . . I mean really, really awful. I was cold. I was disinterested. I was rude, and sometimes I was flat-out mean. I acted like he was annoying, treated him like he was a vile, nasty human being, and when that didn’t work, I ignored him and acted like he wasn’t worth my time. It was getting harder and harder to do, and the more disdain I tossed in his direction, the more charm and liquid sex appeal he leveled at me. We were involved in a tantalizing back-and-forth game that I was terrified I would eventually lose. Race wanted me, and he didn’t make it a secret. I didn’t know how much longer my wayward lust was going to be held at bay under the assault of those evergreen-colored eyes and that gorgeous head of spun-gold hair.

  He flashed a million-watt smile in my direction and stopped so he was looming over me. Even with me wearing five-inch heels, he towered over me.

  “Well, hello, Brysen.”

  I rolled my eyes and raised the cup to hide my involuntary gulp as his gruff voice slid over my skin.

  “Race.”

  Adria nudged me in the side with the sharp edge of her elbow. I cleared my throat and inclined my head in her direction.

  “This is my friend Adria.” />
  He stuck out a big hand and clasped her much smaller one. I practically saw her panties melt and her vagina throw out a welcome mat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I should be asking him that. This was a college party, filled with drunk coeds and undergrads. I actually attended the university around the corner, but Race had long since given up the academic life for one that involved crime and lots and lots of illegal activity. He was the one who shouldn’t be here.

  “Just out having some fun.” I tried to keep my tone flat and uninterested, but if he could hear the way my heart pounded, the jig would be up for certain.

  He lifted a blond eyebrow at me and flashed a half grin. Gah . . . he even had a killer dimple in his left cheek. I wanted to lick it so bad. I dug the tips of my fingernails into my palms and took a deep breath.

  “I’m surprised you know how to do that, Bry . . . have fun.”

  He was right, so all I could do was narrow my eyes at him and put on the ice-queen mask I perpetually wore in his presence.

  “What are you doing here, Race? Shaking down poor college kids for their student loan checks?”

  His other eyebrow shot up to join the first one, and when he unleashed a full smile on us, it practically knocked both Adria and me over. Something darker flashed in his green eyes and I wanted to take a step back. Race was dangerous in more ways than one, and I needed to remember that.

  “Most college kids have zero sense and like a challenge. That’s a breeding ground for a guy like me. Plus football season starts next weekend and I just needed to check in on a few early clients.” His eyes slid over the top of my sleek bob to the toes of my pointed black heels. “I stayed longer for the scenery.”

  Adria cleared her throat and looked back and forth between the two of us.

  “Clients? At a house party? What exactly do you do?” If she only knew the kinds of illicit things Race did.

  He cocked his head to the side and the blinding smile he wielded like a weapon fell off of his face. There were a lot of facets to Race Hartman, and this darker, harder side of him had only made an appearance when he decided he was going to take over the reins of a major crime syndicate after he had played a big role in bringing down the kingpin, Novak. Race wasn’t just a bad guy, a criminal, he was the bad guy. He was running numbers, loan-sharking, operating illegal gambling houses, helping his best friend chop and move stolen cars, and making sure every man, woman, and child in the Point knew he was the guy calling the shots on the streets now. He was too pretty to be that awful, but because of Dovie I knew exactly how filthy Race’s hands had become since taking over Novak’s empire. Not to mention his new business partner was a pimp, a money launderer, and absolutely ruthless and cold. Nassir had to be shady and enigmatic considering he ran every underground operation that existed in the inner city and it seemed a lot of those qualities had rubbed off on Race.

  “I make money, sweetheart.”

  And he did. I shifted uneasily on my too-tall shoes and tried not to let him see how my pulse fluttered under his unwavering gaze. There was something about being desired by a man that you knew could destroy anyone in the room. It shouldn’t feel good, shouldn’t make my thighs clench and my insides pulse, but it did . . . he did.

  I smirked at him and tossed the longer part of my razor-straight bob over my shoulder.

  “Race is an entrepreneur of sorts.” The kind you would only find in a place that was as dark and as broken as the Point.

  Adria obviously wanted to ask more questions. I saw her open her mouth, but before she could get a word out, a loud BANG rang out and the typical college party I had been using to try and escape the aching reality of my every day turned into a chaotic riot.

  There was no mistaking the smell of gunpowder as pandemonium erupted and more shots rang out. I went to grab Adria, but because we were so close to the door, a flood of panicked bodies separated us in a split second. I felt hard hands grab me and pull me out of the way of the stampede. My face was pressed into a rock-hard chest and a big hand held my head down as I was roughly moved through the press of running and flailing bodies.

  My heart was in my throat and I heard the gun go off one more time, followed by the shriek of a female voice. Race let out a litany of swearwords from somewhere above my head, and he let me go for just a second. I heard glass breaking, felt him shift, pull me along behind him, and then the cool night air was around us. He set me away from him a little bit, but grabbed my hand and proceeded to pull me along behind him. Our feet crunched over the broken glass of the back door he had obviously shattered in order for us to escape.

  I was panting and running in stilettos and skinny jeans after a guy with legs twice as long as mine, which was practically impossible to do, but I did it. He didn’t stop until we had rounded the yard on the other side of the house and made our way across the street. Most of the other partygoers had dispersed, and the wail of sirens could already be heard in the distance. I put my hands on his chest and pleaded with him:

  “We have to find Adria.”

  His eyes were practically black, full of emotions I was scared to name.

  “I can’t be here when the cops show up, Brysen. I have to go.”

  I gasped at him and balled my hands into fists so I could thump him on the chest—hard.

  “Help me find her, Race!”

  He just shook that perfect blond head and gazed down at me.

  “You’re the only one I was worried about.”

  My heart tripped, but the sirens were getting closer and he was moving away from me. I grabbed on to his wrist and realized I was shaking so hard I could barely hold on to him.

  “Don’t leave me.” My voice sounded scared and lost. I didn’t know what to do in a situation that involved guns and violence. It unnerved me how nonchalant he was with it all.

  The shadows in his eyes moved and his mouth turned down at the corners. Before I could react, his hands slid around the back of my neck, under the edge of my hair, and he yanked me up onto the tips of my toes. I clasped both hands around his wrists, tried not to freak out when my chest flattened against his. I pretty much just dangled there while he proceeded to kiss the shit out of me.

  It was dark, people were stumbling about drunk and bewildered, I was worried about my friend, and I was angry at him . . . always angry, but for the first time since I had laid eyes on him, all that want, all that tangling, greedy lust, was let loose, and I kissed him back.

  It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t sweet and filled with tangible longing or loving care. It was brutal, violent, hard and hot, and nothing in my entire life had ever felt better. His tongue invaded. His teeth scraped. His hands bruised, and I could feel his erection through the front of his jeans where we were pushed together. I should’ve protested, said something to make him stop, but all I could do was moan and rub against him like some kind of wanton cat in heat.

  And just when I was contemplating curling around him, coiling into that big body and making myself at home, he dropped me, stepped back, left me blinking up at him like an idiot, shook that golden head, and disappeared into darkness without another word. I stared at the spot where he had been, wrapped my arms around my chest, and tried to keep from falling apart on the spot.

  “Brysen!”

  I jerked my head up as Adria came barreling into me. She almost took both of us to the ground.

  “Oh my God, I was freaking out! Where did you go?”

  I hugged her back, mostly to see if it would stop the shaking. It didn’t.

  “Race took me out the back, for some reason.”

  Her eyes were huge in her face.

  “Why would he do that? No one knew where the gunman was.”

  I just shook my head. “I don’t know, I just followed him. He didn’t really give me a choice.”

  “Some guy caught his girlfriend with another guy. Can you believe that? All that for something so stupid.”

  I didn’t get to ask her how she knew what th
e ruckus was all about because the police were finally on the scene and they were giving those of us left lingering about the third degree.

  The university and the house where the party was at were both located on the Hill. Things like random gunfire, jealous boyfriends, and cheating girlfriends belonged in the Point; at least that’s what most people from the Hill tried to fool themselves into believing. By the time it was all said and done, I was exhausted, and could still taste Race on my lips. My night out in order to forget had turned into one that I would remember forever, even if I knew how bad an idea it was to hold on to any memory of him. Maybe gray wasn’t such a bad shade to be surrounded in after all. It was boring and bland, but it was safe.

  I drove Adria back to her apartment, fielding questions about Race the entire way. She was fascinated by him, could feel that magnetic pull he just naturally had. I tried to tell her that he was bad news, that the world he operated in was as far away from her almost M.B.A. as she could imagine, but of course that only added to his mystique and appeal. What nice girl from the Hill didn’t lust after a naughty boy from the Point? It couldn’t have been any more clichéd if it tried. By the time I was headed home, I had a headache and my stomach was in knots.

  When I parked in front of the cookie-cutter trilevel my parents had built before everything fell apart, I had to really think about whether or not I wanted to keep the engine running and just continue driving until I was somewhere else, until I hit a different life. Two years ago, everything in my world had been cheery and full of color and light. I was living in an apartment with girlfriends, attending college, fending off boys with only one thing on their mind. I was silly. I was carefree, and I never thought about any of it going away.

  Now I was living back at home, taking care of one parent suffering from a crippling bout of depression and with a tendency to self-medicate, and another who was a workaholic and obviously burying himself in his job to avoid the troubling things going on at home. Mostly I came back to keep my little sister, Karsen, from being affected by the sadness and the darkness of it all. She was sixteen, a straight-A student, and bound for college in just a couple more years. I could tough it out until then. After all, my parents had always worked hard to keep our family on the fine line between the Hill and the Point, and I felt like it was the least I could do to repay them. We had never been obnoxiously wealthy, but we had never been forced to try and survive on the battleground that was life on the streets of the Point either. I really felt like I owed them for that at the very least.