The Secrets That We Keep
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WAR
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THE ESCORT SERIES
Living in Sin (Escort 1)
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Unforgivable Sin (Escort 2)
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Sins & Mistrust (Escort 3)
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ISABEL LUCERO IS the author of the romantic suspense novel The Secrets That We Keep and the bestselling erotic romance books Living in Sin, Unforgivable Sin, and Sins & Mistrust; books one, two, and three in The Escort Series. She also penned the crime drama, WAR.
She was born in a small town in New Mexico and was lucky enough to escape and travel the world thanks to her husband’s career in the Air Force. She’s been married for eleven years to the love of her life and Jr. High School sweetheart. Together they have two of the best and most beautiful kids in the world.
Isabel’s love for reading is anything but new, she’s been reading since before she was a teenager.
She’s a multi-genre author, tackling genres such as romantic suspense, erotic romance, crime drama, and contemporary romance.
She currently lives overseas and is constantly coming up with new book ideas, so keep an eye open for new stories coming your way. Isabel loves connecting with her readers and fans of books in general. You can find her on her personal website, Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
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Keep reading for an excerpt from WAR.
“WHAT THE FUCK do you think you’re doing?” I shout as soon as we’re in the car. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Hell no, but I ain’t about to let anybody step to me like he did. Is he out of his fucking mind?”
“I think you’re out of your mind for pulling your gun out in the middle of the fucking street! Cops could have been watching, and you know PJ had a gun on him. He always does.”
I press hard on the gas and speed down the road, heading towards our house.
“Fuck the cops and fuck PJ. I don’t give a fuck about either.”
“That’s your problem, you don’t give a fuck about anything. I don’t care if you don’t give a fuck about yourself, but when you put us all in danger, then it’s my problem.”
“Come on, C,” he grumbles.
I ignore Jasper the rest of the way, because he already knows he’s in the wrong. With everything that’s going on, he pulls a gun out on someone in the middle of the street in broad fucking daylight. Idiot. And it wasn’t just anyone he pulled a gun on, he had to threaten a guy who’s part of Roman Rios’ crew. Roman is a monster and he’s training his crew to be just like him.
Not that my team isn’t full of fucking criminal, ruthless bastards, but Roman will slit your throat in front of anybody in the middle of the day, and walk away calmly, because he knows nobody’s gonna rat on him. They’d be stupid to.
While it’s my plan to get things back on track again, I can’t have Jasper or anybody on my crew going around and threatening the guy who has it out for us already.
This is what happened. My father, Memphis Reed, was the leader of this group of misfits we have going on here. He was the boss, the man in charge of everything, and nobody crossed him. Ever. He was my whole world. He raised me when my whore of a mother took off and left the both of us.
We’re a protection racket. We offer protection to people and/or businesses who require us to make sure nobody fucks with them and their shit. Sometimes it’s violent, but oftentimes people know not to fuck with anybody who’s under our protection. Our reputation precedes us and that’s worked well for us and our clients thus far, but Roman has decided he wants to try his hand in racketeering.
That wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t in our territory. We never had a problem with him selling drugs, weapons, extorting people, and whatever the fuck else he does around here, but there can’t be two racketeering groups in the same area.
Let’s say our client is going against their client and vying for a piece of land, or a particular building for their business. It’s now on us to fight the other racketeers in order to secure the win for our respective clients. We can’t offer a guarantee in that case, and if we lose, it leaves our client’s protection unreliable and our services of very little value. Then soon enough, we aren’t needed by anyone.
We cannot tolerate competition.
That’s the situation we’re in now, and it’s becoming a big problem. They’re trying to push us out so they can takeover, but I’m not leaving. I refuse to be bullied out of something my father spent his whole life building.
I pull into our lot and slam the car door behind me, storming into the house.
“Hey, C!”
“Chelle, what’s goin’ on, girl?”
I jet past Gage and Silas, making my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Jack. When I walk back into the living room they’re both looking at me with wide eyes, and then Jasper walks in.
“What the fuck did you do to get her all pissed off?” Gage asks, pinning Jasper with a stare.
Jasper doesn’t answer, he just walks up the stairs to his room. I fall onto the couch in between Gage and Silas and take a swig from the bottle.
“That bad?” Silas asks, swiping the bottle from me and taking a drink.
“Jasper pulled a gun out on PJ in the middle of the street.”
“Roman’s PJ?’ Silas asks.
“You know any other PJ?’ Gage snaps.
“Shut up. So, what happened?”
I steal the bottle back and take another drink. “Nothing . . . yet. PJ’s gonna tell Roman about their fight. Jasper was running his mouth and talkin’ like we ain’t scared of them, and we’re ready whenever they are and some other bullshit.”
“Well, we ain’t scared of them!” Gage shouts. “Fuck them. They know goddamn well what they’re doing is wrong.”
“I know, but we need a solid plan in place. We can’t go around pissing off his people and think everything’s gonna be okay.”
Gage strokes his beard like he’s thinking about something. Silas takes the Jack from my hand and gulps it.
Gage has been around the longest and has always been like a brother to me. He also helps me run this organization. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s five years older than me at thirty-one, and definitely acts the roll of big brother. I appreciate the fact that he’s there to protect me, but a lot of the time I don’t need anybody to protect me. I can protect myself, something I have my dad to thank for, but Gage is also there to scare away any potential boyfriends. Not that I have any. Guys seem to be intimidated by me.
Maybe it’s the tattoos. I have a chest piece that extends to my shoulders and down both arms. I always get people saying, “why did you ruin your body with all that ink?” or “you’re so pretty, why all the tattoos?” Maybe because I do what the fuck I want. God, I hate judgmental people.
Then again, they might be intimidated by the fact that I have all these large, tattooed, scary looking guys around me all the time. Maybe it’s because they know I carry a gun with me everywhere I go. Maybe it’s because I can give a sailor a run for his money when it comes to cussing. Whatever it is, I don’t have many prospects banging my door down.
Me, Jasper, Silas, and Gage all live in this house together. It’s a large home with six bedrooms, four baths, and lots of space. Nothing too fancy, just spacious. We have a gate that closes in the whole lot, and we have another building behind the house that offers more privacy with clients. Our other crew members live elsewhere, but stop by enough that you’d think they lived here.
Silas puts his arm over my shoulder and squeezes me into him. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”
“Thanks, Si,” I respond, pulling out from his grasp.
Silas is big. Huge, actually. He stands at six-fi
ve and weighs well over two hundred pounds. Probably close to two-fifty, but I don’t ask. He’s got muscle, but it’s not pure muscle. He’s a few years older than me at twenty-nine, and he and Gage look like they could be brothers. They both have dark hair that’s worn similarly; short on the sides, long on the top, and both have fairly long beards. I figure these guys hate that I’m in charge because I’m younger than them, but they don’t say anything. My father put me in this place, and they respect that.
I stand up and take the Jack back to the kitchen. As I’m closing the cabinet, I hear the front door swing open.
“Where’s Chevelley?”
“I’m here,” I say, coming around the corner.
C, Chevelley, and Chelle. All the names the guys call me. There have been times I’ve wished my name was something simpler, but my dad named me, and I can definitely say I haven’t heard of another Chevelley before.
Deacon stands there with a somewhat worried look on his face. “Roman got wind of some shit that went down not too long ago. Something with Jasper?” he questions.
I nod and wait for him to continue.
“I heard he’s sending someone to come over here. Check things out.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Check things out,” Gage roars.
Gage and Deacon are around the same height at about five-eleven or so, but Gage has more mass to his body than Deacon. Deac has more of a swimmer’s body while Gage has more of a football player’s body. They’re both equally tatted, but Deacon’s tattoos extend up his neck and down his fingers, while Gage’s tattoos can be hidden if he wears a long sleeved shirt.
“It means he’s sending someone over here to talk to Chelle and make sure she’s got things under control.”
“PJ is the one who initiated contact with us today. Jasper blew up, but we weren’t out looking for them,” I state. “Why does he need to make sure my shit’s under control? He’s still fucking with our business.”
Deacon sits on the chair and plops his booted feet onto the already scuffed coffee table. “I figured you’d want to know that you have a visitor on the way.”
“Is he really acting like if my people don’t talk to his people, that everything will be fine? We both can’t be doing the same thing in the same area. He’s fucking crazy.”
“Look, C. There’s something else you need to know.” I don’t respond. I just wait. “He’s sending Xavier over.”
My breath falters.
Xavier.
Xavier fucking Delgado.
Roman’s number two.
He’s twisted. He’s vicious. He’s terrifying.
And once upon a time, I thought I loved him.
Fuck.
Resurrecting Phoenix Page 25