Tell Me to Stay
Charlotte Byrd
Byrd Books, LLC
Contents
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
1. Nicholas
2. Nicholas
3. Olive
4. Olive
5. Nicholas
6. Olive
7. Olive
8. Olive
9. Olive
10. Olive
11. Olive
12. Olive
13. Olive
14. Olive
15. Olive
16. Olive
17. Olive
18. Olive
19. Olive
20. Olive
21. Olive
22. Olive
23. Nicholas
24. Olive
25. Olive
26. Olive
27. Nicholas
28. Nicholas
29. Nicholas
30. Olive
31. Nicholas
32. Olive
33. Olive
34. Olive
35. Olive
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
About Charlotte Byrd
Copyright © 2019 by Charlotte Byrd, LLC.
All rights reserved.
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Cover Design: Charlotte Byrd
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This book is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Identifiers
ISBN (e-book): 978-1-63225-056-8
ISBN (paperback): 978-1-63225-057-5
ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-63225-058-2
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About Tell Me to Stay
I am not a liar or a thief or a criminal. At least, not anymore. But here I am doing things that I promised myself I would never do again.
Nicholas Crawford made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. He is dangerous and damaged but so am I. Our relationship is an addiction that we have to feed.
Now, things are about to get even more complicated.
Allegiances will be tested. Lies will be told. Truths will be revealed.
We have both made promises that we can’t keep. The secrets we have uncovered only scratch the surface, and I’m afraid to find out what lies below.
All is not what it seems but I have to figure out the truth before it’s too late.
Decadent and delicious 3rd book of the new and addictive Tell Me series by bestselling author Charlotte Byrd.
Praise for Charlotte Byrd
“Extremely captivating, sexy, steamy, intriguing, and intense!” ★★★★★
“Addictive and impossible to put down.” ★★★★★
“I can’t get enough of the turmoil, lust, love, drama, and secrets!” ★★★★★
“Fast-paced romantic suspense filled with twists and turns, danger, betrayal, and so much more.” ★★★★★
“Decadent, delicious, & dangerously addictive!” - Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Titillation so masterfully woven, no reader can resist its pull. A MUST-BUY!” - Bobbi Koe, Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Captivating!” - Crystal Jones, Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Sexy, secretive, pulsating chemistry…” - Mrs. K, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★
“Charlotte Byrd is a brilliant writer. I've read loads and I've laughed and cried. She writes a balanced book with brilliant characters. Well done!” -Amazon Review ★★★★★
“Hot, steamy, and a great storyline.” - Christine Reese ★★★★★
“My oh my....Charlotte has made me a fan for life.” - JJ, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★
“Wow. Just wow. Charlotte Byrd leaves me speechless and humble… It definitely kept me on the edge of my seat. Once you pick it up, you won't put it down.” - Amazon Review ★★★★★
“ Intrigue, lust, and great characters...what more could you ask for?!” - Dragonfly Lady ★★★★★
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Also by Charlotte Byrd
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Tell me Series
Tell Me to Stop
Tell Me to Go
Tell Me to Stay
Tell Me to Run
Tell Me to Fight
Tell Me to Lie
Tangled Series
Tangled up in Ice
Tangled up in Pain
Tangled up in Lace
Tangled up in Hate
Tangled up in Love
Black Series
Black Edge
Black Rules
Black Bounds
Black Contract
Black Limit
Lavish Trilogy
Lavish Lies
Lavish Betrayal
Lavish Obsession
Standalone Novels
Debt
Offer
Unknown
Dressing Mr. Dalton
1
Nicholas
When I meet with him…
The one thing you should know about me is that I’m a liar. I learned how to lie from my mother and lying was the only way I could survive growing up in that family.
Now, I lie for a living.
I wear a mask every day of my life. In my line of work, it’s a prerequisite.
I was wearing a mask when I met Olive Kernes. I know what you want to hear.
You want me to say that I wanted to take it off as soon I as I had laid my eyes on her. You want me to say that I fell deeply in love with her and I could put the mask away.
But I’d be lying.
On occasion, I do tell the truth.
Olive came into my life as a result of yet another lie. Now, you’re probably trying to figure out what part of what I told her is a lie.
Was my sister really her best friend growing up? Yes.
Is she really dead? Yes.
Did she write me a letter asking me to protect the one person who was ever there for her? Yes.
This was all true. So, what was the lie?
I paid off her debt because I need her.
Yes, I promised my dead sister that I would look out for her and I did. I took care of her debts and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
I promised to pay her one million dollars to work with me for a year.
I made the offer partly to protect her because there’s a bounty on her head. And partly, because I have a mission that I can’t complete without her.
So, what’s the lie?
I can’t pay her. Not yet, anyway.
She thinks tha
t the one million is set in stone but this stone is shattered and I need her help to put it back together.
It wasn’t always a lie though. When I made the promise, I had the money.
It was tucked away safely in my bank account along with the other five million.
It’s amazing how long six million can last if you invest it wisely. It can even grow to seven. But then they came along.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” a man says to the bartender and sits down next to me, brushing up against my elbow.
His suit is a size too big and made of polyester. I wonder if he got it at a two for one deal at the same place he got that cheap haircut.
“Christ, what the hell is this?” He almost spits the drink out of his mouth.
“Water with ice,” I say, looking at the bottles lining the shelves across from us.
“No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll have a glass of Macallan.”
He is not off the clock so he’s technically not allowed to drink. He makes maybe seventy-thousand a year but that doesn’t stop him from ordering a glass of whiskey that costs close to fifty dollars.
We both know that this is not a one-off occasion. He isn’t celebrating anything. This is just a normal Tuesday.
“You know, I’m surprised to see you here, Nicky,” Art Hedison says. No one has called me Nicky since I was eighteen but he says it every chance he gets. It’s meant to put me in my place, but I refuse to let it.
“I don’t know why,” I say casually, taking a sip of my water. “You insisted that we meet.”
The bartender hands him his glass. He swirls around the ice cubes for a moment before taking a swig.
“So, what are you doing back in Boston, Nicky?”
I don’t know how much he knows. “I had some personal business.”
Art turns to me.
His face contorts into a scowl. He thinks it’s threatening.
It’s not.
I know that only a year ago he was nothing more than a paper pusher and then he hit the jackpot by being assigned to my case.
This is the way he’s going to grow up the ladder. I’m his ticket to a grand career at the Bureau.
“Don’t forget who you are, Nicky. Or what we have on you,” he says in his best bad cop impersonation.
Did he practice this in front of the mirror? I wonder.
“You are not to have any personal business while you are working for us.”
He wants me to look at him, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Why did you want to meet, Art?” I ask.
“I prefer Mr. Hedison,” he corrects me.
“I prefer Nicholas, so I guess we both should get used to disappointment.”
Without another word, he gets out of his seat and goes toward the back of the bar.
It’s pretty empty, but it’s still a public place and even he knows better than to discuss anything like this where anyone can hear us. Or maybe he’s just going to use the john.
When I glance over at him, I see him waiting near the back door. He nods in my direction. I finish my drink and follow him outside.
“Took you long enough,” he mumbles.
This isn’t going as we had practiced.
Oh well, we can’t all get what we want.
“I have a new job for you, Nicky,” Art says after looking both ways down the long dirty alley. The nearest light is at the corner and it takes my eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness.
“I thought your boss wasn’t happy with my other job,” I say.
“It’s not my boss who wasn’t happy, it was me,” he corrects me, never missing an opportunity to massage his ego. I laugh to myself.
“My bad,” I say with a tinge of sarcasm.
“Listen, don’t forget who you are talking to,” he says, taking a step closer to me. “I’m your only lifeline, you degenerate asshole.”
I clench my jaw. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand reach for my collar but at the last moment he pulls it away.
It’s technically illegal in the FBI to physically assault their independent contractors even if they are unwilling independent contractors.
“This is your last chance,” Art says, waving his finger in my face. “If you fuck this up, the deal is off. We don’t need you.”
2
Nicholas
When I find out about my new job…
I glare at Art. He and I both know it’s a bluff. They do need me.
I’m their connection. I’m their way in. They may have an agent working their way up the ladder, but it’s going to be a long time before anyone in the organization really trusts him. On the other hand, I’m one of their top people as far as independent contractors go.
“I thought that you would’ve been pleased that I delivered the laptop,” I say. “Thought it would’ve at least brightened your mood a bit.”
This catches Art by surprise. He has been with the FBI for more than ten years but he’d always worked a desk job.
He’s still not very good at hiding his hand. I get it, it takes a bit of practice to lie as well as I do.
“What exactly should’ve pleased me?” He finally asks after he gathers his thoughts. “The part that the project came in at three times the budget and took three times as long. Or the part where one of our valuable assets got killed and got the local cops sniffing around?”
“Wait…what?” I ask, trying to process what he had just said.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Art nods his head. “You don’t know everything, Nick. No matter how much you think you do.”
I knew that the job cost a lot more than it should have and took a lot longer, but what is this about a valuable asset?
“You thought that Caitlyn was just an escort, right? Wrong. She worked for us just like you are working for us. Under the table, so to speak.”
“Why?” I ask, taking a step back.
I didn’t know her but I had researched the escort agency that Dallas called. It’s my job to know everything and I take my job very seriously.
I looked into everyone who worked there, women and men. I knew about their personal lives and their families. I knew their log-in information and what they liked to look at online. And nothing about her working for them came up.
“You are not the only one who is good at keeping secrets,” Art says. “Occasionally, the FBI is, too.”
I shake my head in disbelief. I know what they have on me but what did they have on her?
You see, that’s the only way you get into this prestigious club.
They open a case on you, collect evidence, and then threaten to arrest you and send you to prison for years unless you can do something for them.
Take it from me, if you do illegal things, make sure you keep evidence of other people you work with who also do illegal things so you can use that as leverage and reduce your sentence.
I wasn’t that smart so here I am.
I have to pay for my sins the hard way.
The problem with this job is that it’s mandatory and it has no end date. Once I’m useless to them then they’ll prosecute me for the crimes that they can prove.
Until then? I have to keep risking my life and limb in a series of impossible jobs that require me taking valuable things from very bad people. If I do it for long enough, I’m pretty certain that you will either find me in prison for the rest of my life or in a casket six feet under.
“Are you going to tell me what the job is or not?” I ask. “I don’t have all day.”
“No, you don’t.” Art laughs.
I furrow my brow.
He is acting way too cocky even for him.
“Owen Kernes. That name ring a bell?”
My throat closes up, but I tell myself to breathe. He may mean someone different. It’s a pretty common name.
“Owen Kernes, your girlfriend’s brother who is getting out of prison as we speak,” Art says, pulling out a cigarette.
With blood rushin
g between my temples, I can barely hear anything that he’s saying. I watch as he puts the cigarette in between his teeth and lights it, taking a long drag.
“Quitting is a bitch, huh?” he says under his breath.
“I wouldn’t know,” I say. “I never smoked.”
“Lucky bastard.”
He takes a few puffs, exhaling each one right into my face. The smoke burns my eyes and tickles my throat but I don’t give him the satisfaction of even one flinch.
“You couldn’t have forgotten Owen, right? You had some history if I remember that correctly. What was it that happened again?” he asks. “Oh, that’s right, you stole his girlfriend. You two were friends. That’s cold, bro, really cold.”
That’s the gist but the details aren’t there.
We weren’t really friends.
And I went out with her first. When we hooked up, I had no idea that they were dating. But I don’t think it’s details like this that Art cares about.
“So, is that why he’s my new job?” I ask. “Because we slept with the same girl?”
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