Past Hurts (Sizzling Miami Book 1)
Page 1
Past Hurts
Jessie G
Contents
Books by Jessie G
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Past Hurts
Abandoned by his mother and raised by a judgmental, homophobic father on the unforgiving streets of Overtown, Davin Monroe knows a lot about survival and little about love.
As heir to the family business, Alaric Bennett’s innate strength makes him the pillar upon which the family problems fall, but leaves him emotionally abandoned by those that need him.
One chance meeting and five beautiful years together do not prepare them for the dark, depraved jealousy threatening their hard-earned happiness.
Now a killer has forced Detective Monroe to face the past and the only man his heart has ever wanted. With only one shot at redemption, Alaric is determined to uncover the truth and bring his lover home for good.
Before they can get back together, Alaric and Davin will have to unravel the secrets that tore them apart. But will the truth be enough to heal their past hurts?
Books by Jessie G
Published by Jessie G Books Inc.
Sizzling Miami Series
Past Hurts
For A Reason
The Protector
Their Reason
Safety in Numbers
His Premier
Deciding on Forever
Our Reason
A Home for the Holidays
Creating Perfection
Devils Pride MC
Tricking Chase
Talk Dirty to Me
Tys That Bind
Taking the Top
Forgotten Soldier Series
Micah’s Soldier
Treading Water
Continuing Their Education
Kindred Stories
Rebuilding Hope
Single Titles
Brewing Up Trouble
Julian’s Redemption
Past Hurts
Copyright © 2014 Jessie G.
2nd Edition © 2020 Jessie G.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Special thanks to:
Jessica McKenna, Editor
https://www.facebook.com/JessicaMcKennaLiteraryEditor/
Andrew Reyna, Dynamic Craft Studios, Cover Art
http://www.dynamiccraftstudios
Published by Jessie G Books: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Jessie G Books, jessie@jessiegbooks.com. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Jessie G Books.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase on authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.
Past Hurts is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
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Prologue
Davin
“Sorry to wake you, Detective, but we just got a report of another body on the beach.”
Though he heard those words every night for the last week, Davin had to pause to be sure they weren’t just remnants of another nightmare before allowing himself to react. Leaving the light off, he reached for the clothes he left out the night before and dressed as dispatch rattled off the details. After six years in the Special Victims Unit of the Miami Police Department, he’d taken this call too many times to count, and while every crime was different, the horrors humans inflicted on one another were no longer a surprise.
Finding the crime scene on the Miami Beach side of the Julia Tuttle Causeway had taken less than fifteen minutes, and he was relieved to see that the area had already been sectioned off. Ducking under the police tape, Davin flashed his badge at the uniformed officer he recognized from another call out earlier in the week. Under different circumstances, he might have quipped something about running into each other again. Tonight, they just shared another grimace by way of greeting.
Though he knew the scene would be sparse, Davin allowed himself a moment to look around before landing his gaze on the body. And because everything else was the same, he also knew what was waiting beneath the sheet that had been used to hide their victim from prying eyes. Knew and wished he didn’t.
“Evening, Detective.” Doctor Everly, the county medical examiner, stood watch over the body, an expression of defeat etched so deeply into his features, he was hard to look at. How many bodies had he stood over in his career? How badly scarred was his soul?
“Doc,” Davin acknowledged, though he didn’t move closer. Not yet. Instead they stood staring at the body between them. It was yet another ritual that was all-too familiar and while he believed the doctor used the time to offer a silent prayer, Davin used it to take in the details.
Since the body was face down in the wet sand, there wasn’t much to see, but he could guess. A male in his late twenties, in prime shape with blond hair—birth or bottle wouldn’t matter—clean shaven and dressed to impress. His throat would be slit and… “Was he smiling?”
“Yes.”
“Club stamp?”
“Velvet Ropes.”
Davin turned his head west thoughtfully. “About fifteen miles give or take. At this time of night, maybe a twenty-minute ride if he kept to the speed limit to avoid getting pulled over.”
“Sounds about right.”
Turning in the other direction, Davin spotted another uniformed officer furiously taking notes nearby and asked, “Are you documenting the scene?”
“Uh, yeah, I…” Eyes wide, he looked for all the world like he’d been caught doing something wrong and then chose not to dig his hole deeper by admitting it.
Davin waited another beat, but when he didn’t continue, demand
ed, “Well, then, give me the rundown.”
“The thing is, there isn’t anything new here. It’s exactly like the other scenes.”
“Really?” Davin snapped. “I don’t recall seeing this body here last night. Do you, Doc?”
“Not this particular body, no.”
“So—” Davin focused on the name badge— "Officer Ridgeway, if you’re looking for anything new, why don’t you start by looking at the victim? In fact, everyone needs to stop what they’re doing and look at the person we’re here for.”
It honestly didn’t matter to him that they were all tired or that they’d done this dance five nights in a row. Every victim deserved their focused attention, and anything less was as equal a crime in his mind as the one that brought them all out tonight. Sloppy police work didn’t catch killers, assumptions didn’t find clues, and neither would be tolerated by anyone who reported to his crime scene.
“Detective, I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Ridgeway shot an embarrassed, apologetic glance at his coworkers.
“You might not have meant it, but as long as you think this is just another crime scene or that is just another body, you’re doing exactly that.” Davin looked around to make sure he had everyone's attention. “This man has a name and a story. He’s got a family somewhere that’s going to care that he’s lying face down in the sand covered in semen and blood. They’re counting on us to find the person responsible for his death and the minute we look at a victim and don’t feel the burden of justice, it’s time for us to move on.”
Though he hated to be a hardass, he purposely looked back at Ridgeway and asked, “Is it time for you to move on, Officer?”
“No, sir, no! It’s just…” Ridgeway looked around helplessly. “We’re collecting evidence by the boxful and getting nowhere. You have to be as frustrated as we are.”
“Frustrated and exhausted and everything else you're feeling. You know what else I am? Angry that this fucking prick made our backyard his personal killing field. And determined because I, we, have been called upon to stop him! If not us, who? How many more bodies do we have to roll, officer? How many more before it’s someone you know?”
As the team dispersed, attacking the crime scene with the sting of his rebuke riding them hard, he turned back toward Everly. Maybe it was a trick of the flickering lights from the police cars, but for a moment he thought the man wore a little smile of pride. It was unlike the medical examiner to look anything other than stoically respectful and it was so fleeting it was impossible to be sure it was real.
“Shall we roll him over?” Ever efficient, Everly handed him a pair of rubber gloves as they knelt beside the body.
They’d done this so many times, it was reflex that had him reaching for the torso to take the brunt of the victim’s weight off the elderly doctor. As they coordinated their efforts, his eyes scanned up and down, looking for any clues that would help the case. That’s what he told himself anyway.
Truth was the faces made them real and it was the faces that haunted him every night, so it was the faces he looked at last.
Officer, how many more before it’s someone you know?
Chapter One
Davin
Ribbons of orange and pink were just starting to unfurl on the horizon when Davin flashed his badge at the guard gate on Fisher Island and eased through the maze of opulent homes. In the time it took to make the drive from the crime scene, he tried to convince himself to call someone else to make the notification. It would be simple enough—not to mention the right thing to do—to tell the Captain that he had history with the victim and get another detective assigned to the case. But simple had never been in his repertoire. Not when he had four other victims and was in too deep to voluntarily hand this case over to someone else.
When he parked at the entrance of the circular drive, it was impossible not to remember being just as panicked the first time he’d seen the Spanish inspired mansion. With multiple peaks, balconies, and turrets, and what looked like ten garage doors, Davin couldn’t believe that only one family lived there or that they would welcome him. Surely, they would take one look at his secondhand clothes and start hiding the fine china.
Now, like then, it was bravado that would carry him forward because there was no other choice. One step, then another, his long legs ate up the colorful slate as the badge dug painfully into his clenched palm. On any other case, there would be a routine to it—be sensitive but direct and don’t let the family’s emotions become yours. Hedging would only make them suffer.
Be sensitive but direct. Badge up. Ring doorbell.
“Oh my god, Davin! Davin’s here!” Just like that, the routine was replaced by memories of a much younger woman greeting him with the same excitement then as she did now. Then, she had been a doll with blonde curls and the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen. Now an adult, Bethany Ann Bennett turned into a stunner just as they feared. “Davin, I can’t believe you’re here! Come on in. Everyone’s in the family room.”
Before he could get his bearings, she latched on, dragging him forward even though he never intended to enter the house or see the subtle changes that proved this family had continued on just fine without him.
It was all he could do to keep up or risk unbalancing her. “Beth... Bethany, wait…”
Ignoring his pleas, she kept pulling him forward until they reached the entrance of the family room. The smiling faces of what appeared to be the entire the extended Bennett family turned in unison, their brilliance matching that of the enormous twinkling tree near the windows. Presents and paper were scattered everywhere, children he didn’t know were screaming and laughing, and despite the overwhelming urge to flee, Davin just stood there gaping.
How the fuck could you forget it was Christmas morning?
“Look!” Bethany crowed proudly. “Davin’s here!”
A sharp gasp from the left drew his gaze and he was instantly transported back to the first time he met Alaric’s parents. Topping out at five feet on a good day, Claire Bennett was slim, always perfectly dressed, and never had a blonde hair out of place. She trademarked the art of looking natural and while no one would ever call her beautiful in the traditional sense, her genuine kindness more than compensated for it. She had taken one look at him with those endless blue eyes, smiled softly, and opened her arms. It had been such a shock that he returned the embrace without thinking and had been forever branded by the mother he’d always dreamed of.
Dante was the total opposite at nearly six and half feet of muscle, with dark hair and strong features that completed an intimidating look. But like his wife, his eyes were gentle and kind and though he didn’t open his arms, he offered a firm handshake that had been just as foreign.
“Davin?”
Walls already crumbling, it was impossible not to follow the sound of that voice even when common sense told him not to. No man should look that good in the morning or, hell, any time of day. A complimentary combination of his parent’s contrasting features, Alaric Bennett might be tall and strong, but it was the sharp aristocratic lines of his gorgeous face that held the true power.
And not just because he was the most handsome man Davin had ever seen.
Even in sleep pants and a simple white t-shirt, there was an air of authority and privilege about him. Always muscular, Alaric filled out with maturity and, if possible, more confidence. The sight had Davin’s traitorous heart pounding with the need to crawl across the floor and weep at the feet of the man who’d once thrown him away.
Forcing the memories away, Davin shook off the next pair of arms that reached for him. He was the cop that was about to ruin their holiday, not a friend or a lover, and no one they should be hugging. Since it was impossible to look at anyone else, he squared his shoulders and met Alaric’s questioning gaze head on. “Could we speak in private?”
“Of course.” Alaric stepped through the explosion of Christmas, murmuring something to his mother as he passed her, before gesturing toward the door. “
This way.”
When he made the decision to come here, Davin had expected to speak with Claire and Dante, but seeing them just now—still in their pajamas, surrounded by family and holiday cheer—he knew it would be impossible to tell them directly. Being alone with Alaric wasn’t exactly the better option, but he hadn’t given himself any other choice.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your Christmas morning,” he spoke quickly as Alaric closed the office door behind them and then walked around so they were standing toe-to-toe. No personal space here, oh no, Alaric wouldn’t be that polite. That was all right, Davin didn’t want to hear any of that Bennett politeness anyway and he didn’t want any interruptions until he’d said what needed to be said. “We found a body, Ric. We found Terence’s body this morning.”
That was more abrupt than he intended and they both winced. As close as they were, it was impossible to miss the emotion that swept across those gorgeous features. It was probably just his mind playing tricks on him but seeing Alaric’s emotions had once been his top priority.
You have no business thinking he’s gorgeous or caring about his emotions, moron, or are you forgetting why you’re here? Why you haven’t been here in eight years?