by D. K. Davis
Secret: Of Amber Eyes
Secret Series
By DK Davis
Digital ISBNs
EPUB 978-0-2286-0620-8
Kindle 978-0-2286-0621-5
Web 978-0-2286-0622-2
Print ISBNs
BWL Print 978-0-2286-0625-3
B&N Print 978-0-2286-0624-6
Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0623-9
Copyright 2018 by DK Davis
Cover art by Michelle Lee
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book
Dedication
Dear Sharon, thank you for all of your inspiration, motivation, crits and edits, but most of all, for your friendship and time. You’re a true blessing and deeply appreciated.
Chapter One
Morgan
“Morgan, here, take a hit.” Kara handed me the twisted end of a joint. “Loosen up a little. You’re way too tight, Morgana.”
“Don’t call me that.” I held the wrapped sprig between my finger and thumb. “Not sure about this. Just sayin’.” Even though I’d grown up watching my mom smoke the stuff, I’d never attempted it.
Kara released a long-held breath. Smoke curled away from her lips. “Are you saying you’ve never tried it?” Her eyes widened, the flames of the vanilla scented candles reflected across her pupils and made her curly black hair glisten.
“I’ve never been good at it,” I lied.
Kara had preoccupied me the last few months from Mom’s newest ‘man’ addiction, Jack, who’d recently become my stepfather. Kara filled the void, but I still didn’t trust her.
“Suck the smoke into your throat and hold it there. Breathe in through your nose while the smoke’s still in your throat then hold it as long as you can.” Kara breathed in and stopped. She held her breath as I inhaled.
The end of the joint turned bright red on my intake.
“Okay, let it out slow, and then do it again,” she spoke at the same time smoke wafted from her lips.
I sent a billow of smoke into the air and inhaled deeper the second time. A burnt-flavor singed across my tongue and hit the back of my throat, forcing a cough of smoky breath into Kara’s face. Water streamed from my eyes.
She grabbed the mini cigarette from my fingers. “Oh, boy. You’re in for it now.”
Unable to catch my breath nor stop coughing, I hacked a good tearful few minutes then laid my forehead on the cool marble countertop and closed my eyes. Why did I do that? Succumb to Kara’s stupid choices? My mind wandered, lighting on the fact that I sat on a barstool in the bar room of Jack’s mansion, a place I’d found two weeks ago. Correction, a place Kara found.
The refrigerator door opened, and so did my eyelids.
Kara grabbed a beer and popped the cap off, handing me the bottle from across the bar. “Here, this will cool your throat.”
I raised my head and took a sip of the cold brew, extinguishing the scorch. “What just happened?” I croaked, never witnessing anyone else with the same reaction as mine.
Movement on the mirrored wall behind Kara caught my attention.
Jack Rapter.
He stood stone-still at the doorway, glaring at me. His white hair bristled upward in the front and set off his dark goatee. My stepfather, the fitness freak, ate and drank bizarre blends of foods in the name of nutrition, and even dedicated a couple of massive rooms to exercise equipment and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Yep, all about fitness, but from the look on his face, he was just an irate freak.
I set the beer bottle on the counter and swiveled the bar stool around. My nose itched, of all times, so I lowered my head and scraped my knuckles over it.
When I glanced up, Kara scurried past Jack and down the long hallway out of sight.
A cloud of smoke hung suspended between me and the ceiling. My throat clenched around the lump that had settled there. Jack wore a crisp cream-colored business suit. He had somewhere to be, and I just mucked it up for him. He strode over, stopping in front of me.
His silence deafened and the anger shooting out his eyeballs attacked my heart. A tremor cracked through me. He doesn’t know me well enough to glare at me.
Mom had never asked me if I cared for Jack.
My nose itched again. I wiggled it and scrunched my lips to deter the itch. Jack’s hands fisted like he wanted to punch my face. That would stop the itchy nose forever.
The tightly cinched yellow band of his lips released and clear, enunciated words strained out from between his clenched teeth, one-by-one, “I believe you just sewed up your summer.”
He grabbed the bottle of beer and stormed out of the room.
Within minutes, Mom marched in carrying the same bottle of beer. Her glossy red lips pinched as tight as the Botox allowed. Her eyes and brows squinted with a look I recognized as anger, even though displaced without the depth of wrinkles she had erased a couple of months back as if she had any to eliminate in the first place.
“What are you thinking?” Mom yelled and slammed the bottle on the counter. Foam drizzled down the outside of the brown glass and pooled on the marble. “You’re not. No. You’re doing your best to ruin my relationship with Jack, aren’t you?”
I only had two puffs off of Kara’s joint. No idea what I expected from the so-called high, but my focus tuned into the tiny details of Mom’s flowing blouse. How the turquoise silk fit her shoulders and fell into a low V-neck across her breasts. Small white embroidered flowers marked the hem that floated around her narrow waist. Bare skin appeared between her blouse and the waistband of her capri pants whenever she moved.
“Morgan Redding.” Mom grabbed my chin with the tips of her long nails and turned my face toward hers. Unblinking eyes stared into mine. “What have you got to say for yourself? It smells like pot in here.” She pushed my face back, scratching my cheeks with her claws. “First, I find out you smoke cigarettes, next the school calls asking if you’re sick and at home, because you don’t show up for classes, and then the cops call to tell us you got caught shop-lifting. And now this. Right inside Jack’s house,” she screamed the last sentence, ending in a high pitch.
“Isn’t this our house?” I waved my arms to encompass the whole thirty-four rooms, as of my last count. “And you’re listing stuff that’s hear-say, from the principle, not from me. And it happened before graduation.” I rolled my eyes and hopped off the bar stool. “You never asked me what actually happened for any of it.” I studied her for a moment, hating the building burn behind my eyes and the moisture gathering in my lashes. “Because your escort business takes up every damn minute like it always has, and now add good-old Jack to your never-ending schedule.”
“Don’t get smart-mouthed with me. Give me your phone.”
I pulled my cell phone from my back jeans pocket and handed it to her. No one called me on it anyway, except Kara, and I still didn’t know how she got my number.
“You’re grounded for the next two weeks. No friends, no phone, no leaving.” Her eyes narrowed. “Jack has considered sending you to a reform boarding school. These last few months you’ve done nothing but prove you can’t be trusted.”
“That’s your argument? I can’t be trusted?” I stomped my foot, not the most mature choice of action, and then swiped away the moist dribble from my cheek. “I’ve graduated. I can move out, live in a college dorm. He can’t send me to reform school.”
“You can’t stay here. And he’s adamant about you not going to college until
you earn trust and respect.” A nasty grin stretched across her mouth, something I’d seen before, but not pointed toward me. “And, you are only seventeen this year. You still need Mommy’s signature and money.” Her ruby lips pressed together, and then she said, “We’ll be out of town soon anyway.”
“What? You never told me we were leaving.”
“Not you. Just me and Jack.” Mom’s red polished nails tapped the marble counter, sounding like mini stilettos. “He’s got business in Florida. Sounds like a new construction job, and Jack being the architect needs to be where the action is, at least for a while.”
“You’re leaving without me? To Florida?” A place I’d always wanted to go, but Mom never had that kind of time to take away from her ever-growing escort business.
“You're ungrateful and untrustworthy, why would you think we’d take you?” Her long sigh ended as an impatient huff. “I thought Jack’s housekeeper, Rhetta, could be here for you, but she never sees you. She said you play hide and seek with her; you’re always gone before she can talk to you.”
Right, avoiding Rhetta was way too easy with the house and grounds covering such a vast spread. I could get lost for days. If Rhetta had her way, she would have me cleaning every one of the rooms in this house that she gets paid to clean. She had her little crew of grunts come in to do the dirty work, but I could work for free. No thanks.
“What if I stay with Grandma Mary?” That would leave me on my own most of the time, but at least people cared and would show up once in a while.
“Grandma’s too busy. She’s still a working veterinarian, plus she has to deal with Grandpa Luke’s drinking. You know that.” Mom turned to leave, then stopped, and whirled around. Her gaze met mine.
So, she does have a heart.
“Maybe I’ll check with Aunt Becka.” She arched a brow.
Aunt Becka used to take me for overnight visits. I played board games with her and Uncle Charlie, or they spent time at the park with me, and then, suddenly, when I turned five that had all stopped. They hadn’t shown up for Mom’s wedding either.
“Last I heard, Becka is somewhere in Michigan’s great north operating a wildlife refuge. Wonder if she’d want you…now?” Mom’s eyes stared off. She’d practiced expressions in the mirror for as long as I could remember, but her face looked different from any of her self-training, as though something festered beneath.
“What do you mean now? From what you told me years ago, Aunt Becka never wanted to see us. Why would you want to send me there? I don’t even know her.” I held Jack responsible for this. Why couldn’t Mom see he was tearing us apart, even more, than we were before he married her?
“Exactly.” Mom watched as I rubbed my nose. “And, scratching your nose, like you always do when you’re in trouble, isn’t going to solve anything.” She spun around and left the room.
Chapter Two
Morgan
A few days ago, Mom had contacted Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie, and they wanted me to stay with them. So, Mom scheduled to drive me there tomorrow morning, as if I wanted to go. Her way of shoving me under the rug. Jack’s way of shoving me out the door.
After I finished packing everything, I headed outside to the back landscaped gardens. The sun filtered through the purple lilac bushes, warming me. I plopped down on one of the brick pathways near a pond and curled my legs underneath me. Leaning back against a replica of the Statue of Venus, I closed my eyes and waited for the Universe to tell me ‘why.’ Like, why did I feel so alone? Why did I have to leave? Why did I have no purpose for even being?
The breeze rustled the flowers and leaves of the lilacs, sending a sweet floral fragrance along the air around me. I am alone, my life in a nutshell.
“Damn girl, what the hell you doin’ out here?”
I jerked and knocked the back of my head against the statue. “Ouch! Geeze, Kara.” I rubbed my head and straightened my back, stretching my legs out in front of me. “I’m grounded. You, especially, can’t be around me.”
“Yea, ’cause I’m the only one ever around you.” Kara pulled out her tiny purse of joints from the back of her denim shorts and squatted beside me. Her hazelnut-colored eyes narrowed. “Or is this you tellin’ me that I’m bad for you?”
“Kara, I can’t do this stuff. Gods, Jack would freak if he saw you out here with it.” I stood and held out my hand to Kara. She grabbed it and pulled herself up.
“How come you ain’t got any of your momma’s good looks? Are you even sure she’s your momma?”
“What the hell do Mom’s looks have to do with anything?” Sometimes Kara came up with the most off-the-wall crap. I studied her, wondering exactly how old she was and realizing I had no clue where she even lived.
“She’s got no right takin’ your rights away like this. I’m tellin ya straight up; you need a smoke.” Kara grabbed a skinny joint and lighter from the mini purse. She flicked a flame, held the lighter at the end of the joint hanging from her lips, and inhaled deeply. The joint glowed to life. Her eyes closed as she held her breath, and then she exhaled, holding the thing out to me.
“You’re crazy.” I took it from her and just held it. “How come you never get caught? How come you even have this stuff?”
“Oh, take a puff and get over yourself.” She jutted out a hip, and her eyes narrowed.
I threw it on a brick and smushed it with my shoe. I was leaving tomorrow and feeling sorry for myself. Will the crap smashed to my sole fix me? No.
Kara shoved me to the ground, jumped on top of me, and slapped my face. Then she stopped and glared at me. “There, now I feel better, how about you?”
I bucked her off me, and then shoved her away as I got to my feet.
“How come you don’t have a boyfriend?” Kara eyed me like she knew a secret about me. “You just graduated from high school for God’s sakes. Don’t you like boys?”
“I don’t see you with any guys.” I wiped my fingers over my lips and noticed blood. “Why would you do this?” I held my wet, red finger in her face.
Kara didn’t comment but grabbed my hand and wiped my blood off with the bottom of her shirt, creating a good-sized stain.
I yanked my hand away.
She forced her arms around me and pushed her body against mine.
“What are you…?” I turned my face away from hers and heaved her back, hard. “Stop it.”
She stumbled away, but not far enough for my liking.
My nose itched, like radar picking up signals whenever I got nervous.
Kara shot forward and slammed me into the statue. She pressed her hips against mine and wrapped her arms over the statue so I couldn’t move.
“Get away from me right now, or I’m going to scream,” I threatened.
“Oh, you’re not going to scream because Jack will only make life even harder for you.” She laughed in my face.
I head-butted her with as much force as I could muster within the small distance between her and Venus.
Kara’s arms dropped away, and she stepped back. Her eyes went half-lidded, and I thought she might faint, but then she said, “Come on girl, you’re leavin’ tomorrow. We gotta celebrate. Let’s you and me have some fun.” She reached her hand toward my T-shirt.
I smacked her hand away. “Kara, I’m not into girls. How much clearer can I be?”
“So, you’re not into girls, uh.” She leaned closer and I side-stepped her advance.
“You're ridiculous.” Then, something rustled the bushes and caught my attention. I looked up.
Jack.
Our gazes connected, my breath rushed in and caught.
“What the hell is going on here?” Jack’s gritty voice blasted through the air.
Kara ran as always. Her slender body booked-it down the path like a track star, leaving me to take the wrap.
Jack’s lips pressed together, forming a pale line.
A part of my mind screamed, ‘How long did you watch? You lousy, creepy old man,’ but instead, I said nothing.
His stare turned into a leer focused on my chest, as if my T-shirt had disappeared. The silence between us stung. Until finally, he said, “I’m not sure that aunt of yours has a clue about you.” He chuckled, a lurid grin on his face as he continued gawking at me. “Bet your mom doesn’t know you’re a little fag.” He spat on the front of my shirt from where he stood, then turned and walked away, shooting words over his shoulder, “You’re gone come morning.”
* * *
My shoulders pressed against the back seat, farthest away from my mother. She drove the newest addition to her growing car lot, a pearl-white Cadillac. Morning sun heated the inside of the car. Through the windows, I compared my life to the big city as it faded out of sight, away from highways and onto dirt roads surrounded by trees, a lot of trees. Today, I would become trapped in a faraway prison of trees and sick wild animals.
Thanks for your unyielding support, Mom.
I glanced at her. She’d used a long clip in her hair to restrain the soft pale-yellow curls cascading down her back; a few wisped around the flawless skin of her face. Her lips shined with glossy pink that matched her finger and toenails. Thin silver and gold bracelets clanged whenever she moved her arm. Her thick lashes practically fanned the windshield every time she blinked. What a beauty.
I looked nothing like her. Nothing.
No wonder she was in such high demand through the escort service she co-owned. For all of these years, men had constantly called her eye-candy, and she was…still, at thirty-three years old.
She hadn’t said anything about Kara, so must be Jack never told her. Not sure I liked the fact Jack and I shared a secret. I’m not obligated to him. Nothing happened. There’s no ulterior motive for his stupid silence to Mom about what he saw with me and Kara. All I knew about Jack was…I didn’t like him.