Cougar Mom

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Cougar Mom Page 1

by Eve Langlais




  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  7. Interlude: Pre-Wedding Brunch

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  16. Interlude: Bachelorette Party

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  20. Interlude: Pass the Whiskey

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  28. Interlude: The Wedding

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Copyright © 2018/19, Eve Langlais

  Cover Art Razz Dazz Design © 2018

  Produced in Canada

  Published by Eve Langlais ~ www.EveLanglais.com

  eBook ISBN: 978 177 384 129 8

  Print ISBN: 978 177 384 130 4

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email, photocopying, and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  Author’s Note

  If you’ve been following the ladies of Killer Moms, you know they haven’t lived simple, peaceful lives. Each of them has a past they escaped and adversity they’ve had to overcome. Each of these moms was recruited by the KM agency for a reason with an end goal that always centered around their children.

  Meredith’s past is a little darker than some of the others, and it might be difficult for those who’ve experienced abusive situation. How she overcomes it makes her happily ever after that much sweeter.

  Some of her recollections may be difficult for some readers to read, but I hope you will join Meredith on her journey and celebrate the happily ever after she deserves.

  Without further ado…I give you, Cougar Mom.

  Introduction

  Older is not only sexier, it’s more dangerous too.

  Meredith is practically old enough to be the mother of some of the younger Killer Mom agents, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready to retire. With her kids off to university, it is past time this Cougar Mom goes back to fieldwork. And she gets the perfect opportunity when she offers to help organize a wedding in the Caribbean…while completing a mission.

  When an accident leaves her with no memory, she has no idea that the man caring for her, the one she’s falling for, is her target.

  Hugo isn’t exactly a good man. He’d be the first to admit that he’s ruthless, yet he’s a different person around Meredith. A kind and gentle lover—until he’s betrayed.

  When the truth of Meredith’s identity is revealed, he wants nothing to do with her, but that changes when she’s kidnapped, and he realizes that he made the mistake of falling in love with a killer mom.

  Prologue

  Twenty-three years ago, when everything went to hell.

  The jail cell smelled of piss and despair and proved noisier than expected. Despite having a concrete box to herself, the open bars in the window meant that Anita got to hear everything happening outside her door. Lots of crying, some screaming, even laughter—which, in a place like this, seemed impossible.

  This wasn’t somewhere to entertain hope.

  The hard bed boasted only the thinnest mattress and barely cushioned her butt as she hugged her legs to her chest. She didn’t have a roommate.

  Yet.

  But she’d been warned to expect one. Told to forget the very concept of privacy. The toilet in the corner had no stall, nothing to hide her.

  She’d screwed up, and now she would pay the price. Better get used to it. Twenty to life was the worst-case scenario. Her lawyer said that if she pled guilty, she might get less. Eight to ten, with a chance for early parole for good behavior. But would a judge agree to a lighter sentence?

  The case against Anita was open and shut. Anita had called the police herself—“Hello, I think I killed my boyfriend.” When the cops arrived, she didn’t argue or protest in any way. She handed over the baby before she held out her hands to be cuffed, still wearing Tommy’s blood, making no apologies for what she’d done.

  When the detective questioning her asked why she killed her boyfriend, at only twenty-two years old and already the mother of two, she said, “Because he deserved it.”

  There must be something wrong with her because she didn’t feel guilty about what she’d done. Actually, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that the abusive jerk was dead. It kind of made her wish that she’d acted earlier. And not just with Tommy. So many awful things in her life could have been prevented if she’d pulled a knife and said, “enough.”

  Her lawyer argued it was self-defense. Problem was, she didn’t have any bruises on her. Her lawyer claimed she suffered from battered spouse syndrome. The defense lawyer cited that she had no emergency room record or police reports that alleged abuse.

  How arrogant of that bitch in her suit to think Anita had the freedom to call for help. The woman who claimed Anita lied about the abusive behavior had obviously never been willing to do anything to avoid being punched so hard she blacked out. Clearly, never had someone imprison them if they bruised. Anita wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment until it healed.

  There wasn’t much questioning of the kids. The baby was only eighteen months old and not exactly a good witness. As for Donovan, five years old and very serious for his age, he wouldn’t speak to the social workers. Wouldn’t tell them if Mommy or Daddy left the marks on his body.

  But Tommy’s mother had no problem opening her yap.

  She painted a picture of a sweet man who did his best by his family, despite his whoring bitch of a girlfriend who was an unfit parent.

  The person who’d changed every diaper, burped after every feeding, and stayed up countless nights walking her babies was the unfit one?

  Tommy’s mother, Agnes, took the credit for the children’s upbringing, claimed she was the one to care for them while Anita partied and did drugs.

  “She’s lying.” Anita still didn’t regret the outburst in court, even as the judge rebuked her. When her lawyer jumped in, they offered to have Anita pee in a cup to prove the claims false. The prosecution argued that she’d been in custody too long for the drugs to still appear.

  The truth couldn’t be proven. Even in death, Tommy kept beating her.

  The day of her sentencing, Anita waited in the cell, dressed in the coarse orange jumpsuit that clashed with her bright auburn hair. Her eyes were red-rimmed from the lawyer’s news that Tommy’s mom had won custody of the kids, and the judgement wasn’t even dependent on the outcome of Anita’s trial.

  Her babies in the hands of that awful woman… She’d seen them once since her arrest when her lawyer managed to have child protective services bring them for a visit. The baby had no idea and babbled happily on her lap; her sweet little Carolina unaware of what had happened. But at five, Donovan understood too much.

  The kid who wouldn’t talk to anyone lisped, “It’s my fault.”

  Anita could hear in his voice that he genuinely believed that. He thought he was the
reason his mommy sat in jail.

  She started to cry, which led to the guards coming over and trying to take away her kids. Whereupon, she snapped. Made an unfortunate scene that got her banned from seeing them again.

  Some days, Anita wondered why she didn’t do like the girl in the next cell block over had done: hang herself with a sheet from her bunk. What was the point? The judge on the case hated her. Anita was about to get slapped with the maximum sentence and would never see her babies again.

  Her knees pressed hard into her eye sockets as she sought a way to shrink into nothing.

  She heard the heels long before she saw the person wearing them. Clack. Clack. The female lawyers liked to wear the fancy shoes that gave them a few inches. Strutted in their tailored business suits that screamed, “look at me compared to you.”

  Anita wanted to be like those women. Strong. Powerful. Unafraid. Instead, she was done before she had a chance to get started.

  The shoes stopped near her cell, and there was some clanking as the door slid open. Super worrisome. She wasn’t supposed to go to court for a few hours yet.

  She lifted her head to peek at the person in the doorway. A woman, a few years older than Anita. She had the smoothest brown skin and almond-shaped eyes Anita had ever seen. Her hair was tucked up in a complicated chignon that allowed some escaping curls, and her outfit was stylish if bold, the mango color bright in the bland space.

  She looked like a fancy lawyer. And for some reason, she’d stopped by Anita’s cell.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Anita Whittaker?”

  “Yeah.” Seemed kind of stupid to deny it.

  “You killed your boyfriend.”

  Anita’s gaze narrowed. “Who are you? Why are you in my cell?” Because this was odd. The woman was inside with her, not across a table with Anita shackled. Nor did she have a guard, his hand resting on the butt of his weapon, standing anywhere close.

  “What would you say if I told you I could get you out of this cell and reunite you with your children?”

  “I’d say you’re being cruel.” How dare this woman taunt her with the impossible. Anita would give anything to be with her babies again.

  “I assure you, it’s possible. But for it to happen, you have to trust me.”

  Trust this smart-looking woman in a suit? Had to be a lawyer—and pricey she’d bet, too. “I don’t have the kind of money it would take to pay you.”

  “It won’t cost you a penny.”

  The snort emerged from Anita with no control. “Nothing is ever free.”

  “Would you feel better if I said the people I work for, the ones who can help, will take payment via work.”

  “Work?” Anita arched a brow. “I should warn you that, according to my ex-boyfriend, I suck at sex.” Because she knew the type of work they likely wanted her to do. She had no skills. No real value other than her looks. And even those had taken a beating.

  The woman’s full lips curved. “Your ex, Tommy, was an asshole.”

  Anita blinked.

  The woman went on. “He deserved what you did to him and more. Which is the only reason we’re offering this deal. Do you want to accept it or not?”

  In a few hours, a judge would send Anita to jail. She’d never see her babies again. Or she could jump off a cliff and trust this woman to do as she said.

  “Get me out of here. I’ll do anything to get back with my kids.”

  “Glad to hear it.” The woman opened the handbag by her side and pulled out a bundle of clothes. “Change, and we’ll leave.”

  “Now?” It couldn’t be that quick. There was paperwork to do, probably some more time in front of a judge.

  “Yes, now. No point in wasting more time.”

  Anita eyed the woman. “Mind turning around, then?”

  Those lips curved again. “You’ll have to lose that shyness if you’re going to work out.” The woman turned, and Anita quickly shimmied out of the jumpsuit and into a pair of soft track pants, a sports bra, and a comfortable sweater. The light shoes were nice, as were the clean underwear and socks.

  She could almost believe when she was done dressing that this woman could actually do as she said. “I’m ready.”

  The woman gave her a glance. “Follow me.” She stepped from the cell.

  Anita hesitated. She still didn’t see a guard.

  It was rather early.

  Anita took cautious steps out of the cell. The woman waited a few paces away. The hall was the quietest Anita had ever heard it.

  “Let’s go. The plane won’t wait forever.”

  “Plane?” Anita’s feet stumbled to follow.

  “We’re going on a private charter.”

  “To where? You promised I’d be with my babies.”

  “Your kids will join you shortly. They need to take a commercial flight and then disappear on the ground.”

  “You make it sound like some top-secret operation,” she said with a nervous giggle as they neared the door at the end of the hall. She still hadn’t seen a single guard.

  The door buzzed and opened as they reached it.

  The woman stepped through, then paused as she realized that Anita didn’t follow.

  Cold feet kept her from blindly going any farther. “Who are you?” Anita asked.

  “You may call me Marie.”

  “And where are we going?”

  “To see Mother, of course.”

  “Mother?” Only as they made it out of the prison complex did Anita clue into what it meant.

  “So, this is a sex thing, after all.”

  “The agency would never ask one of its moms to do something like that. Although, I can tell you from personal experience that it’s easier to eliminate a target in bed when they’re not expecting it.” Marie winked.

  “You do realize you just implied that you murder people?”

  “If contracted. And you will be able to eliminate anyone we ask by the time we’re done training you.” Marie stopped by a long, black sedan with tinted windows. The interior looked absolutely lavish.

  “I can’t be an assassin.” Anita shook her head. “I’ll get arrested again.”

  Marie snorted. “Only if you do it wrong. And hit jobs aren’t the only thing we’re called on to do.”

  “You said something about an agency.”

  “Killer Moms. Run and operated by mothers, like you and I, down on our luck and in need of a second chance.”

  “How is murdering people a second chance?”

  A mischievous smile lit Marie’s lips. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

  “So, you’re one of their agents?”

  “If you want to know more, you’ll have to get in the car and come with me.”

  “If I don’t?”

  “Then walk away.”

  “And go where? Do what?” She eyed the lavish car. Pondered the insane offer. Thought of how she’d felt while killing Tommy. Nothing. There was only one thing left to say. “What does it pay?”

  Chapter One

  T-minus seven days until the wedding.

  * * *

  The binder with the notes and details bounced on the bed where she flung it. The flowered coverlet was a clash of greens and pinks. It matched the art unevenly balanced on the whitewashed walls. It took the tropical theme to the max. But that was what people expected in a resort.

  Tired after a long day of heat and preparation, Meredith kicked off her shoes and headed for the balcony. She’d requested and gotten an ocean-view. The salty tang of the air filled her senses and she got to see the sun setting against the horizon. Utterly beautiful.

  She should take a moment to enjoy the beach. She deserved it after a day spent making sure everything would run perfectly for Carla’s upcoming destination wedding. An evening swim would be just the thing, the warm water soothing to her tired body. Forty-five might be great, but she didn’t have the stamina she did in her twenties.

  One thing that never changed was how sh
e didn’t dare go for a dip when the sun rode high in the sky. A natural redhead, she burned a lovely shade of lobster. At night was when she got to do the things others did in the Caribbean. Like swimming in the ocean.

  She hurried for the set of drawers and changed out of her light linen dress and panties to slip on the designer swimsuit. She’d finally given up on bikinis given the scar she couldn’t quite hide across her ribs. Who knew a teenage daughter would be so jealous that her widowed father would take up with a stranger instead of his own flesh and blood?

  They both got what they deserved.

  Meredith grabbed a towel and quickly left her room, skipping down the stairs. The resort was well placed, sitting right on the beach. Meredith arranged for their party to get all the best rooms. Tanya helped hack the computer to make the arrangements.

  Everyone pitched in, especially since no one ever expected Carla to get married and retire from Killer Moms. Super shocking. And her choice of getting hitched on a beach took coordinating.

  As part of her gift, Meredith had offered to help. She had lots of experience organizing events—and missions. That experience dictated that hands-on was best, hence why she was here before everyone else, talking to the staff, double-checking the details, scouting spots where a sniper could take out a target.

  Because this Cougar Mom had a job to do in paradise. Mother, her handler, had acquired a mission that coincided with the dates for the nuptials. She’d transferred Meredith the file only the day before her departure and then insisted on a briefing.

 

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