Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2)

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Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2) Page 1

by Scarlet Wolfe




  Fail to Trust

  Scarlet Wolfe

  Copyright © 2016 Scarlet Wolfe Books

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1537388779

  ISBN-10: 1537388770

  Contents

  Notes

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  End Notes

  Acknowledgements

  Notes

  This novel is written from the points of view of Becca, Travis, Reese and Everett.

  Trust Game should be read prior to reading

  Fail to Trust.

  This novel is for a mature audience due to graphic scenes, harsh language and descriptive sex.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the readers who desired more from the Casteel brothers. It’s been a pleasure to immerse myself in their lives again.

  Chapter One

  Becca

  “Charbroiled … lobster … melanoma,” Travis says before laughing.

  “It’s not funny. I can barely move from this sunburn. It turned the best 4th of July celebration into the worst,” I reply as I try to scoot to the side of the bed.

  He pulls me back down, and in an instant, he’s hovering over me, holding himself up with his hands. His face is inches from mine, and his grin has vanished.

  “It will always be the best 4th of July to me because it’s the first one I got to spend with you.”

  Feeling guilty for my comment, I brush his messy blond hair from his face. “That was sweet. I did have the best time with you. Reese and Everett sure know how to throw a party.”

  “Give yourself some credit. You helped them out the entire day.”

  I turn my head to look away. “I doubt Reese noticed. She still thinks I’m irresponsible, but I’m going to have a career soon and show her she can be proud of me.”

  “Look at me, Becs.” Hesitating for a bit, I finally turn back. “Reese is already proud of you. I know it, and that party wouldn’t have been a success without your help.” He grants me one of his boyish grins. “Now, had you chosen to wear race gear like I did, instead of a bikini, you wouldn’t be cherry red today.”

  Even with the help of his sculpted biceps, his arms begin to shake from holding his body up.

  I point at him. “You mean you wouldn’t wear a bikini on a dirt bike? I can just picture you in one now; maybe a cute red one,” I say with a giggle.

  “You’re so lucky I feel sorry for you and your cultivation of skin cancer this morning, or I’d tickle the shit out of you.” Travis’s mouth lands on mine, and he gives me a swift kiss before climbing off his bed.

  I can’t help but admire his sexy body as he struts away from me and heads into the bathroom. I stayed the night with him in his tiny apartment, but that’s about to change. We’ll be moving into Reese’s larger apartment in only a handful of days.

  It’s exciting, but I do have some reservations. If her place wasn’t available, I doubt Travis and I would be in a hurry to move in together.

  We’re young and have only been dating a few months, but maybe I’m worrying for nothing. We do love each other and get along great.

  My phone bounces across his nightstand as it rings. I swipe it and see that it’s my mother.

  “Mom, what’s up?”

  “You didn’t come home last night.” Her voice is stern, and I cringe.

  “Oh, um, I was so tired after the party that I decided to crash on Reese and Everett’s couch.”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Becca. I know you’re at Travis’s.”

  I sigh. “Yes, and I didn’t want you to know because I can tell from your tone that you’re not happy about it.”

  “I called to ask you to go to lunch with me. Your father and I have a surprise for you.”

  Her switch in subjects silences me for a second.

  “OK. I’ll pick you up at noon, but I’ll be moving a little slower. The sun baked me yesterday.”

  “And I imagine you were prancing around in one of those teeny bikinis you own.”

  I’m rolling my eyes at this point.

  “Times have changed, Mom. Women wear bikinis and move in with guys before wedlock every day.”

  “I’ll see you at noon.”

  Without replying, I end the call and toss my cell phone back on the nightstand.

  “Who was that?” Travis asks as he takes hold of the top of his bedroom doorframe. His body stretches, and my eyes travel down the length of him and all his shapely flexed muscles. I’m biting my nail as my gaze lowers.

  When I notice he’s semi-hard in his black boxer briefs, I feel my face flush. He flashes a mega-watt grin.

  “Damn, beautiful. Even with that sunburn, I see your face turnin’ redder.” Along with his fit body and gorgeous grin, his country accent makes him so damn sexy. “Like what you see?” he adds.

  “Yes, and you know it.”

  Letting the doorframe go, he waves a hand toward his body.

  “Baby, I work at keeping all this perfection hard just for you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, it’s going to have to stay hard for now because I have to find a way to shower with this sunburn. That was my mother on the phone. She wants us to go to lunch.

  “I can’t wait to hear more of her snide remarks. Although, she did mention having a surprise for me, so maybe it won’t be all bad.”

  Travis frowns. “I thought we were going shopping to get stuff for the apartment.”

  Climbing off the bed, I stalk toward the door and grin at him, hoping he captures my appreciation for what a great boyfriend he is.

  I’m cautious of my sunburn as I gently wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his chest that I can barely reach.

  “You’re so damn cute. I can’t believe you’re disappointed we’re not going shopping.”

  “Don’t get the wrong idea. This will be the only time I enjoy shopping.” I feel his mouth press to the top of my head. “We’re moving in together. It’s cool,
and I want you to have all new things.”

  “We’ll go tomorrow. I promise.”

  Travis

  There’s a knock on my apartment door, so I smile, already knowing it’s Becca. She texted me saying she was on her way over with exciting news, so I’m not surprised when I open the door and find her giving me her radiant grin. Her blond hair is up high in that messy ball I love.

  “You’re not going to believe this. My parents just gave Molly and me a trip to Europe for the next two months. They said it’s a late graduation present.”

  I stare at her in silence. Unsure of what to think or say.

  “Can you believe it?” she asks.

  “No, I can’t. I thought your parents liked me.” I honestly did think Becca and Reese’s parents approved of me, but this has me questioning that, along with Becca’s feelings for me.

  We’re supposed to be assuming Reese’s lease at her apartment next week, and conveniently Becca’s folks are now giving her a trip to Europe. What the hell is that about?

  “They do like you, Trav, but they want to give me this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity before I join the working world and settle down.”

  “I don’t care what shit they fed you; this is to separate us.” Becs steps closer and slides a hand through my hair.

  “Aww, sweetie, I don’t believe that for a second. This has nothing to do with us moving in together. But if that were the case, we would have to let it divide us, and we won’t allow that. They’ll see when I return that nothing has changed.”

  I pull her hand down from my hair.

  “You don’t have to accept this trip if you don’t want to.”

  “What, and disappoint myself and Molly? The two months will fly by, and then we’ll move in together, and—”

  “In September? We’re supposed to move in together in a few days.”

  Becca steps back and scrunches her forehead.

  “I need the next few days to shop and pack for this trip, Travis. You can go ahead and move in, and I will once I’m back. I’m getting the vibe you’re not happy for me.”

  I blow out a huff of anger. “Whatever.”

  Her hands grip her tiny waist and she scowls.

  “Wow, way to show your support. I knew you’d be disappointed I’m leaving, but I actually thought you’d be excited for me.”

  “We’re just starting a life together, so I thought you were excited about that, but I see I was wrong.”

  “Is this how it would always be in our relationship? You never compromising?”

  “What’s your plan, Becca? To put off getting a job forever? To run off and travel on daddy’s money whenever the urge strikes?”

  Becca’s eyes flood with tears. “How fucking dare you!” She charges toward the door, so I’m on her heels. I grab her arm, but she jerks free from my hold.

  “Let go of me!”

  “Becca, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

  “Yeah, right … The truth reveals itself. You see me like everyone else does. Since you think I’m a spoiled brat who you’d likely have to support forever, I’m going to make your future easier on you. We’re over, Travis. Done.”

  Thinking we’re just having a stupid fight, I’m hurt and stunned that she’s ending things so easily.

  “Fine. I hope you stay in fucking Europe.”

  Becca

  “Becs, come on … get up,” Molly pleads. She’s at the foot of my bed, pulling on my feet. Since even the top of them are sunburned, I yank them away.

  Her dark hair is back in her signature high ponytail with a few wispy strands shaping her face.

  “I didn’t take a two month leave of absence from the bank so we could hang out in your room.”

  “Maybe it was irresponsible of me to change my plans with Travis at the last minute.”

  “You’re only twenty-two. You have plenty of time to settle down with a man, but an opportunity like this may never come around again. You said you’d still move in with him in two months, so he should’ve been more understanding.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Get up, chica. We have a ton of shopping and packing to do before we leave.”

  I think about what Molly said about Travis. I do think he could’ve been more understanding, but maybe I could’ve compromised and shortened the trip.

  He was also probably right about my parents. I think they’re trying to separate us because they think I’m too young to move in with someone.

  Once I’m back from Europe, I’ll see if Travis and I can work things out, but in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this amazing opportunity.

  His hateful last words replay in my mind, and they piss me off all over again.

  “You’re absolutely right; we can’t pass this up. Let’s see if we can leave a day early.”

  Molly grins. “There’s the fun Becca I know.”

  Chapter Two

  Three Weeks Later

  Becca

  Staring out the window of my hospital room, I think about the recent weather change. It’s evening here in Paris, France, and a steady rain has moved in.

  The dreary grey clouds are fitting for the sorrowful events that transpired today, and it’s as if the sky is weeping with me as the droplets of rain pelt the window and slide down the glass.

  I follow the trails of water. Once one stream reaches the bottom of the window and disappears, I pick another for my swollen eyes to follow.

  Disappear …

  Disappear …

  Disappear …

  Molly … disappeared.

  God, make it stop.

  I’ll do anything to escape the horrific images in my head. Even the drug-induced fog I’m in isn’t enough to accomplish that goal.

  The door of my room opens, and I hear someone enter. I don’t roll over to look. Instead, I stare at the rain so I won’t picture Molly screaming in agony only hours ago.

  “Ms. Abbott …”

  Carefully, I roll over toward the door and stare blankly at le docteur Renault, the French doctor who’s been in my room once already. Accompanying him is a woman maybe in her early thirties.

  She’s in a pink blouse and navy slacks, and her black hair is in a ponytail, reminding me of Molly.

  “What do you want?” My tone is void of emotion, my face expressionless. I have to stay numb. If I don’t, I’m going to go insane.

  “Ms. Abbott, I would like to introduce you to Madame Dubois. She’s a therapist here at the hospital.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she says with a smile. Their English is precise, and I’m relieved because I couldn’t concentrate on speaking French at the moment.

  “I have more news to relay,” my doctor says as he lowers my chart to his side, “and it may be surprising, so I thought Mrs. Dubois should be present in case you’d like to talk with her.”

  “What could you possibly have to tell me that could be more shocking than the sight of my best friend engulfed in flames or the sounds of her horrific screams? Seriously … what could you possibly have to say that’s more surprising than that?”

  The tears I can no longer barricade come rushing out. My sobs become loud, my chest rising and falling sharply with every cry of anguish.

  I want to fist the sheets, but my hands and forearms are bandaged from the burns I received when I wouldn’t let go of Molly.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing the act of closing them could make the pain and images vanish.

  “Please, please go away, and never come another day,” I mumble. “Please, please go away and never come another day.”

  I need my mom and Reese. I want to go home.

  Mrs. Dubois and Dr. Renault speak to each other in French, expressing their concern over my mental state. I guess they think I can’t translate, or maybe they think I’ve traveled to crazytown where I’m too far away to hear.

  Mrs. Dubois walks over and sits on the edge of my bed. Still lying on my side, I have to fight the urge to flinch when she begins to strok
e my upper arm.

  “Becca, we’re terribly sorry for your loss and what you’ve endured. Molly’s family has been notified, and I was able to reach your mother by phone. Her passport is valid, so she’s going to leave right away to be with you.”

  This news is a relief but leaves me sobbing once again. My cries, along with the smoke inhalation, cause me to cough hard, so I sit up and place my bandaged hand across my chest.

  Reaching over next to me, the kind therapist grabs a few tissues from a box resting on the side table. She inches them under my fingertips, which are sticking out of layers of gauze.

  I attempt to blow my nose, and once I’ve regained my composure, I direct my gaze toward my doctor. He’s young and attractive, and his light brown hair is short and neat. His blue eyes remind me of Travis’s, and this makes me feel shameful.

  Remembering the last words Trav said to me at his apartment, I wonder if this doctor thinks I’m spoiled and got what I deserved, too.

  I shake my head. Now, I’m just being ridiculous. He doesn’t even know me and has been nothing but kind.

  “What news do you have to tell me?” I ask.

  “Ms. Abbott, we performed a pregnancy test upon your arrival, and it was positive. We’re going to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are. I’m sorry to have to compound the stress you’re under.”

  If my wall of strength wasn’t already smashed to pieces, the last brick has fallen. I burst into tears and feel the therapist’s warm hand stroking my arm.

  “I’ll leave you alone with Madame Dubois,” Dr. Renault says solemnly. The door shuts, and I turn my face into the pillow.

  My sobs are exhaled, an ebb and flow of heartache, and I wish it would smother me. I bury my face farther against it.

  Please, please, God, take away this pain.

  “Becca, do you have a boyfriend in the States you’d like us to contact?”

  “No. We broke up right before I left.” My voice is muffled, and I wonder if she even heard me.

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry.”

 

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