Page 1 of Unthinkable

PROLOGUE

JENSEN

FIVE YEARS AGO …

With Immie in my lap, I stroke her hair. It’s been three months since I rescued her from the Carrera family auction, and not a day goes by that I don’t consider what could’ve happened to her if I hadn’t.

At thirteen, she’s barely a teenager, and a vulnerable one at that. She’d been in foster care for years after her addict parents were unable to care for her. Then, one night, her foster father announced her social worker had found her a family. The poor girl was naturally excited at the thought, only to discover the man who arrived to collect her wasn’t interested in giving her anything but trauma, to solidify what was already a turbulent start in life for her.

There are noticeable comparisons in her life to my own, and maybe that’s why a sudden hero complex took over me. Working for Azrael Carrera wasn’t on my wish list when I finished working for the special ops team. I was later declared missing, presumed dead, thanks to Azrael.

After stumbling upon a murder plot involving an innocent family who had witnessed a crime by someone within my own team, I couldn’t stand by and allow that to happen.

As a small boy, I was privy to some of the techniques used to terrorize and force people to retract statements. Instead, I sought out to warn the family of the plot, and though I wasn’t successful in my quest, I did save Azrael’s younger sister, shielding her below me from an explosion that would’ve left her dead among the rubble. Azrael pulled us both out, saving me when he didn’t have to.

From then on, I was under Azrael’s protection despite protests and concern from Sal; our adopted uncle, so to speak. He, like many others, made the mistake of classing all members of the Carrera family as evil personified, and in a way, I guess they were. Though I saw something in Azrael that he was too afraid to admit to himself—a light, compassion, and love. He wants more out of life, and so does his brother, Czar.

From that day forward, I, Darren Jensen Marino, became Jensen Rainer to the Carrera family, and my true identity remained hidden.

And Immie became my little nightmare.

CHAPTER ONE

JENSEN

Exhaling deeply, I lift my bag higher on my shoulder. It’s been around eighteen months since I was home in New Jersey. After Azrael passed away, Sal asked me to return home, but I wasn’t ready, and I don’t know why. I guess I needed closure from the Carreras; it was the end of an era when the don and his heir passed away, leaving Czar as head of the family. Besides, Czar struggled with his brother’s demise. His empire was a shitshow, and sharks were swarming to cash in and overthrow him. Though, Azrael would be proud of him now. The man has certainly become the leader he was always destined to be, and the Carrera family empire is becoming something of a force to be reckoned with, one built with dignity and moral leadership.

Pushing open the door, I second-guess my return. My wife, Amanda, is screaming like a banshee, and I cringe as it reverberates off the walls. Whoever she’s unleashing on is receiving the evil end of Amanda’s spiteful tongue.

“You need to be put in your fucking place!” she screeches, so I drop my bag to the floor and straighten my shoulders, preparing for the onslaught.

Welcome home, Jensen. Give me a fucking gun or a knife to unleash my own fucked-up darkness on any day of the week, because her screeches are already too much to bear.

“You should just move out!” she declares. “Now! I should go pack your stuff and throw you the hell out. You never listen to me.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Amanda has friends stay over, but did she allow someone to move in while I was gone? She’s letting someone around Immie permanently? Like hell she is. Fire burns my veins, and before I know it, I’m striding through the foyer toward the kitchen. I throw open the kitchen door, and as I step inside, something sails past my head and hits the wall, then an almighty scream rings in my ears.

What the hell?

“I hate you!” A shriek erupts from a familiar voice, and another item smashes against the wall.

My eyes lock on my daughter. Adopted daughter. Sort of.

Imogen.

My breath is stolen.

She’s beautiful. I always knew she would be, but now, more than ever, I see it. My heart skips a beat, and I will myself to breathe. She’s grown so much. She’s a young woman now, a breathtaking one at that.

Her brown hair is wavy and down to her hips. Her blue eyes search mine, and her bottom lip wobbles as she takes me in.

Pouting, her pink lips part, and I blink hard when I consider staring at them for too long.

We’re frozen. The air between us thickens, and I become lost as time stands still, with neither of us moving.

Finally, I give my head a shake and swallow past the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “Hey,” I rasp out.

“Hey? Fucking hey? You’ve been gone for months, and all you can say is hey?” Amanda bellows, and I whip my head toward her.