Bad Alibi
a Redemption novel
Jessica Prince
Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Prince
www.authorjessicaprince.com
All rights reserved.
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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
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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
Epilogue
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About Jessica
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REDEMPTION SERIES
Bad Alibi
HOPE VALLEY SERIES:
Out of My League
Come Back Home Again
The Best of Me
Wrong Side of the Tracks
Stay With Me
Out of the Darkness
CIVIL CORRUPTION SERIES
Corrupt
Defile
Consume
Ravage
THE PICKING UP THE PIECES SERIES:
Picking up the Pieces
Rising from the Ashes
Pushing the Boundaries
Worth the Wait
THE COLORS NOVELS:
Scattered Colors
Shrinking Violet
Love Hate Relationship
Wildflower
THE LOCKLAINE BOYS (a LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP spinoff):
Fire & Ice
Opposites Attract
Almost Perfect
The Locklaine Boys: The Complete Series Boxset
THE PEMBROOKE SERIES (a WILDFLOWER spinoff):
Sweet Sunshine
Coming Full Circle
A Broken Soul
Welcome to Pembrooke: The Complete Pembrooke Series
GIRL TALK SERIES:
Seducing Lola
Tempting Sophia
Enticing Daphne
Charming Fiona
STANDALONE TITLES:
One Knight Stand
Chance Encounters
Nightmares from Within
DEADLY LOVE SERIES:
Destructive
Addictive
Prologue
Farah
Stepping across the threshold into the entryway of the old Victorian, I was hit with the smells of wood rot and mold.
I was far from an expert when it came to construction, but considering the state the house was in, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn the whole place needed to be ripped down to the studs.
And that didn’t bother me one damn bit.
“Uh, Ms. Hyland?”
At my realtor’s voice, I stopped gazing around and turned my attention to him. “Please, call me Farah.”
“Okay, Farah. I have to admit, I was more than a little surprised when you asked to view this property.” He looked around at the rambling pile of rubble with undisguised dismay. “It’s . . . well, a disaster, really.”
“It’s not a disaster, Mr. Clark,” I insisted, taking in what was probably a stunning parlor back in the day. Where the tin ceiling tiles probably once added character, they were now completely covered in rust. The gaudy floral wallpaper was peeling, and rodents had eaten holes in the drywall, exposing wiring that would undoubtedly fail inspection. What was once a gorgeous home had been abandoned, left to rot away. “It’s a fixer-upper.”
“That may be. But with your budget, you can easily afford a place that’s move-in ready. This . . . this will take a lot of work.”
I knew he was trying to talk me out of the place, but I felt a sense of belonging in this house. It had been neglected far too long, just like me. With the help of the two people I held most dearly, I’d been able to pull myself up and put the pieces of my tattered life back together, and now that I was strong enough, I was going to offer this old girl the same chance.
The shape of the house might have been a deterrent to most people, but to me, the challenge made my blood sing and filled me with excitement.
I was a twenty-six-year-old woman who, until recently, had never had to work for anything. All my life, I’d had things handed to me on a silver platter. But those things came with a million strings attached, and the saddest part was, most of what I had, I’d never wanted in the first place.
Just like every generation before me for as long as I could trace back, I’d been born and raised in Connecticut, living the entitled life that came with the Hyland name. My great-great-grandfather had struck it big in steel, setting my family up to be one of the richest in all of New England. The Hyland’s were the very definition of old money, and with the name came expectations I’d always hated.
From the time I came into this world, my entire life had been planned for me. Everything from what college I’d attend and what I’d major in to the man I’d eventually marry had all been chosen without my say. Hylands didn’t make waves. We were expected to sit back, keep our mouths shut, and just go with it. But because I had a mind of my own and dared to question my parents’ plans for me, I was labeled the black sheep of the family.
All my relatives looked down their noses at me, snickering and whispering behind my back at family events.
As far as my parents were concerned, I was a stain on the family name. I was the daughter of Geoffrey and Margo Hyland, for God’s sake. My father was the oldest son and heir to the Hyland Steel fortune. I was to do as they said without batting an eye, and the fact that I believed I should have a say in my future made me a huge disappointment to them—something they’d begun making all too clear to me as soon as I was old enough to understand words.
After so many years of having my own parents despise me, that strong will I’d been born with had been beaten into submission. I stopped thinking about what I wanted and became the obedient daughter they’d always desired.
I attended Cornell University because that was where they wanted me to go and got a worthless degree in Fine Arts because they deemed it appropriate. After all, it wouldn’t do for a Hyland woman not to be educated, but we weren’t actually supposed to work. It was our job to marry money, pop out babies, and volunteer on the boards of several respectable charities.
I’d begun dating Lance Maryweather, the son of my parents’ best friends, not because I was attra
cted to him, but because it had been arranged by our families. And when he proposed the winter before last, I’d said yes because, according to my father, it was a wise business move, having the princess of a steel fortune married to the heir of a line of thriving department stores.
We’d been set for a spring wedding, because spring was the ideal time for a lavish outdoor wedding for the upper crust of society. Our mothers had been in fits, planning the wedding of the century, and for months it was all anyone could talk about. Everyone who was anyone would be in attendance, and I was going to be the envy of all the women in my social circle. Or at least that had been the plan.
Then one night had changed everything in a way that was irreversible. It had changed me. But then, nearly dying had a tendency to do that to a person.
I woke up in that hospital bed a broken shell of my former self. It had taken months to pull myself together, but once I had, I knew I’d been given a second chance, and there was no way I was letting it go to waste.
Starting fresh hadn’t been easy. Cutting ties that had kept me tethered to a life I never liked nor wanted had been an arduous task, but I’d done it. Breaking things off with Lance had been the easiest part. Truth was, knowing I wouldn’t be stuck with him for the rest of my life was a serious weight lifted off my chest, but my parents were a different story. In spite of how they’d made me feel growing up, I still craved their approval. They were my blood, and having them turn their backs on me hurt more than I could have imagined.
I guess, in the back of my mind, I’d held out hope that they would understand why I needed to do what I’d done. But I’d been wrong.
By the time I’d finished shaking off the dregs of my old life, I only had two people left to support me. Fortunately, they were more than enough. With their help, I held on to the strength I needed to start this next chapter of my life.
I was a whole new Farah. Granted, I was a new Farah who didn’t have the first clue what she wanted to do with her new life, but still, it was exhilarating to have the chance, and I wasn’t going to squander it.
Turning back to my realtor, I felt my lips tug up in a smile so big it made my cheeks ache. “Anything worth having is worth putting in the work, Mr. Clark. Make an offer.”
He raised one brow, giving me an incredulous look. “You’re sure?”
“Oh yeah.” Tipping my head back, I scanned the house that would hopefully soon become my home, feeling an unfamiliar warmth begin to unfurl in my chest. “I’m absolutely positive.”
Chapter One
Farah
“So, what do you think? What’s the damage?” I asked nervously. I’d been standing in my brand new house, anxiously gnawing on my thumbnail the whole time the contractor had been looking everything over, and I couldn’t shake the sense that I’d bitten off more than I could chew when I finally got the keys to the old girl last week.
Lowering the clipboard he was holding to his side, he gave me his attention, and I couldn’t help but notice just how handsome the man was . . . all tall, muscular, and commanding. I normally would have been in a state of panic at being alone with a man like him, but he’d been nothing but professional and polite since pulling up in his big truck earlier, and his demeanor had put me at ease.
He let out a heavy sigh as he looked around the would-be parlor. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Ms. Hyland—”
“Farah. Please,” I said quickly. I couldn’t stand it when people called me Ms. Hyland. It was something my mother insisted everyone address her as, like it was an honorable title or something, and I wanted to distance myself from that as much as possible.
His eyes shined with kindness as he amended, “Farah. Well, truth is, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”
“Just how a lot are we talking here?”
He scratched at his scruffy jaw hesitantly before giving it to me straight. “None of the plumbing or electrical is up to code, so that’ll have to be dealt with. The drywall is more mold than anything else, and there’s barely any insulation. There’s some serious foundation work that needs to be done, the whole roof needs to be replaced, and—”
“So, basically, what you’re saying is everything needs to come out.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile that ratcheted up his attractiveness. “Yeah, basically. And that’s just the big house. There’s no telling what else will need to be done to the rest of the property.”
The Victorian sat on several acres of land that had been unattended for decades. The landscaping was in disarray, with grass and weeds and thickets growing so high and dense, it was a danger to walk in. There were several other buildings on the property, including a greenhouse, shed, barn, detached garage, and what looked like a carriage house, all just as bad off as the main house.
I released a sigh, giving myself a few seconds to feel the disappointment before shaking it off and moving forward. That was my new motto, after all. Shake off the bad and move on. “All right. When can you start?”
His expression registered surprise for about three seconds before he spoke again. “You know, some people like to get more than one bid before they decide on a contractor, Farah. If you’d like to get a few more quotes first—”
“What do you think of this house, Mr. . . .”
“Morrison,” he offered. “But you can call me Clay.”
I nodded and smiled, repeating my question. “What do you think of this house, Clay?”
“I think . . .” He paused long enough to take another look around before returning his attention to me. “I think you got your hands on a treasure. Always loved this house. If I could’ve afforded it, I’d have snatched it up for myself. I’m just glad someone finally did and is willin’ to put in the effort to return her to her former glory.”
My smile grew ten-fold. “That’s exactly what I think. Now, let’s say I was to look into another contractor, and he claimed half the stuff you said needed to be done didn’t, what would your response to that be?”
His features grew hard and serious as he stated, “I’d say the guy was lazy and cuttin’ corners. That he wouldn’t do this place justice, and it would be more than likely you’d call me again to make the necessary repairs.”
That warmth I’d felt the moment I walked into this place began to come back in force, telling me that everything was working out exactly as it was supposed to. All my life I’d ignored my instincts, and it had gotten me nothing but misery. From now on, I was going with my gut. And my gut was telling me that Clay Morrison was the man to put my trust in. “Great. Then when can you start?”
With a low chuckle, he gave me a nod of understanding. “I’ll have a crew in here to start demo first thing Monday morning if that works for you.”
“Awesome,” I said in a soft whisper. Clay and I parted ways shortly after that. I locked the house up, climbed into my car, and started the engine just as my cellphone began to ring.
With a huge grin still pinned to my face, I hit the button on my steering wheel to activate the Bluetooth as I put the car in gear. “Perfect timing. I was just about to call you. I have the best news.”
Jase’s deep timbre filled the cab. “You came to your senses and dumped that pit you call a house?”
Rolling my eyes at the road before me, I warned, “You know, you keep insulting my home like that and you won’t be invited out to stay with me.”
Jase laughed my comment off.
“I’m serious,” I insisted. “You can spend the holidays with Mom and Dad.”
“Christ,” he grunted through the line. “Now you’re just being cruel.”
I was, and I couldn’t help myself, pushing my big brother’s buttons was something I’d always gotten a kick out of. “They’ll spend them like they always do, breathing down your neck, interrogating you on when you’re finally gonna settle down and get married to one of the picture-perfect Stepford wives they have picked out for you.”
“All right, I give. No need to play dirty.”
I couldn’t help but s
mile at his surly attitude. I mean, I was his little sister, and it was my job to annoy him every chance I got. “I’ll call truce if you promise to stop knocking my new place. Deal?”
“Deal,” he relented on a grunt. “Sorry, sweet pea. I just worry. You’re down there all by yourself, and it’s driving me crazy I’m not there to look after you.”
My breath stuttered in my chest, and that familiar niggling started in my sinuses, alerting me to oncoming tears. I sniffled loudly, trying to beat them back as I cleared my throat, hoping to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed before I spoke. “I know, bub,” I said quietly, using the nickname I’d given him when I was a little girl. “I miss you like crazy, but I’m good down here. I promise.”
His voice was gentle and full of love as he replied, “I know you are, honey. You’re the strongest, bravest person I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I was there to have your back.”
It was stating the obvious, but God, I loved my brother. If it hadn’t been for him, I wasn’t sure where I’d be today. He’d been my self-appointed protector for as long as I could remember. While my parents spent most of their time ignoring me, he’d been my constant companion. On the rare occasion my mother or father would decide to acknowledge my existence, it was usually to berate me for not being perfect, and during those times, I could always count on Jase to stick up for me, coming between me and their venom whenever necessary.
Bad Alibi: a Redemption novel Page 1