by C. A. Harms
Trinity’s Trust
Book Five of the Sawyer Brothers Series
C.A. Harms
Trinity’s Trust
Copyright © 2016 by C.A. Harms.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: November 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-857-6
ISBN-10: 1-68058-857-5
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
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Prologue
I thank God every day that I was stranded along Henry Lane, sleeping in my car. Or Michael’s car, I should say. An old silver Corolla that I was surprised to find got me as far as it did.
When I first met Michael, I had been young and naïve. Looking for that one big break that would take me away from all the heartache in my life.
Marrying him was a spur of the moment decision I regretted every day since. But at the time, he made me feel like I had been rescued from a life of uncertainty. I met him when I was twenty-one years old and had no real stability in my life. My mother had abandoned me for the drug addicted life she led. Yeah she was there, but only physically. I’d practically been on my own my whole life. I’d bounced around from place to place living with random friends, or some nights I was even forced to sleep on the streets.
That was until I met Michael Westerfield, a twenty-eight-year-old man from Dillon. He had a long record of battery and abuse he neglected to tell me about, so I had no reason to fear him. I was young and blinded by the possibility of a life I had only imagined, a life full of things I’d only dreamed of.
A man to love me, a roof over my head, and food on the table. Laughter and comfort, with complete support.
I was in desperate need of security and when he made me feel he could offer that, I fell hard for his lies.
Then he flipped the switch and the life I had been living on the streets was something I found myself wishing I still had.
Now here I was, almost seven years later, and I still found it hard to believe I had the life I had now. The love that surrounded me every day was a love most only dream of. I had been adopted into the Sawyer family as if I had always been a part of it. All three Sawyer men treated me as their younger sister, and Tammy was the most amazing woman I knew. She was the glue holding all of us together. Family was everything to her, and in turn it was everything to us.
I had the friendship of Amber, Bailey, and Alena unconditionally. And our sweet Olivia was the sister I never had but always wanted. She was my best friend regardless of our age difference.
They accepted me.
They loved me.
And I would be forever thankful for the joy they’d each brought into my life.
Even if that joy came with three men who watched over me like hawks, stalking their prey and just waiting for one man to make the wrong move.
They were ridiculous at times, but I secretly loved their hovering; it made me feel safe.
But I’d never tell them that.
Chapter One
Trinity
Sometimes I woke from a dream of still being trapped in that house, still fearful of his anger. My mind would fall back to that place where I felt it was all deserved. Michael had a control over me I couldn’t explain, and I allowed it to continue for far too long.
I lived with it and just accepted it as my fate until that final day when I could no longer take the hate he showed me. I could barely even tolerate myself because I was so shameful of my life and how far I’d let things go.
It was my fault I never stood up to him; instead, I allowed him to knock me down daily and take all his anger out on me. He had a way with words that could make anyone feel inferior to him. He was condescending and manipulative and I was a fool.
It was disgusting, the person I had become.
I was really heartbroken now when I thought back on it all. How I’d wasted precious time, time I’d never get back.
But I escaped and somehow, by some miracle, I found my way to Livingston. I stumbled upon some of the greatest people with the warmest souls. And I was proud to refer to those people as my family. It didn’t matter that we didn’t share the same bloodline; they loved me just the same and I in turn loved and adored them. It was because of the Sawyer family that I found the strength to press charges against Michael for the things he had put me through. It was because of them I filed for divorce and started to once again live my life.
I would forever be grateful to Noah and Ryan for helping me find the right path that day. They honestly could have shipped me down the road and forgotten about the homeless girl they found stranded in a car on a back country road. Instead they introduced me to the women they loved, and in turn I found myself surrounded by so much joy I had no idea what to do with it all.
The three Sawyer men referred to me daily as their sister and so did their wives. And Tammy, God bless her, gave me the love of a mother, something I’d never had before, and nothing had ever felt so good.
It was something I treasured and in no way could I ever explain just how thankful I truly was.
The bond we’d formed could never be broken. I was finally home.
I had become so wrapped up in my own thoughts I hadn’t heard the bell above the door of Sassy Ladies chime, announcing a customer had entered. But at the sound of a deep voice just a few feet behind me, I yelped in surprise as I spun around with my hand pressed tightly against my chest.
There, only a few feet away, stood the man who’d starred in so many of my dreams lately. So vivid and convincing that it was hard not to feel they were real.
Chase Douglas.
The new guy in town. Or not so new anymore, considering he’d been in town for well over a year.
He was so god-damn yummy, but there was no way I could even tell him I thought so. But I sure allowed my mind to race off with in-depth tho
ughts of the things I would love to do to him.
“Sorry to scare ya,” he said with a smirk.
He’d transferred to the Livingston Police department when a position opened up. He was the grandson of Mrs. Willard, the crazy old lady who reported my car along the road when I first found my way to town. She was the woman most avoided because she was anything but friendly. Most feared her, or the idea of her. I’d heard all about the times she’d pulled a shotgun over the years.
But recently her health had taken a turn for the worse, and with Chase being the only remaining family she had still willing to offer help when needed, he came to be close to her.
You’d never guess this perfect, sculpted, yummy as hot fudge on a sundae, topped with all the cherries and whipped cream a girl could handle, man came from the same blood line as Mrs. Willard, but he had. She was his mother’s mom. Now I didn’t know the complete details of his family, but I had been told it was a little messy. And if anyone knew what messy was like, it was me.
“You okay?” His question snapped me out of my fantasy yet again.
God, he must think I’m some kind of freak.
“Um, yeah,” I said, clearing my throat and attempting to regain some form of control. “Is there something I could help you with?”
I watched as his eyes lowered toward the item I was currently twisting mindlessly around in my hands.
The moment I shifted my gaze downward my mouth instantly went dry.
It had to be a thong.
And not just any thong, but a bright red, lacy, see-through thong.
I felt my cheeks heat as he traced his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, slowly bringing his eyes upward to once again meet mine.
“I was just putting the new line of lingerie out,” I said, trying to take the uncomfortable feeling away. I should have stopped there. But no, I had to keep spewing shit out like each word would somehow fix the situation I found myself in.
Note to self—talk less, breathe more.
“We have these in eight different colors with matching bras and garters. Plus these new nighties that the women in town seem to love.” He just continued to watch me, without saying a word, which only made my mouth keep moving and my heart race even faster.
“They sell much better than the last brand we had. They were a bit itchy and the material snagged, eventually leaving holes in the product.”
In that moment I wanted to just turn around and walk away. I was without a doubt a rambling fool. And the way he was just looking at me with that damn grin of his told me he, too, found this situation to be one laced with humor.
Only I wasn’t laughing; I was mortified by the way I had allowed myself to run my mouth off.
He reached out and pulled the panties from my hand. “I didn’t come here to shop for…lacy thongs. But just so you know, I’m not opposed to having you model them for me.” He smirked and I felt my stomach drop. I swear it hit the floor at my feet.
Was he seriously flirting with me?
“I came in to ask if you’d be interested in going to dinner, with me?” He still held the thong in his hand as he moved his thumb over the silk material.
My mind wandered off once more, to the idea of him continuing that very movement over and over, only this time when the panties were tightly hugging my body. I felt my core clench as I imagined the way it would feel as his hands ran over my hips and along my thighs.
“Should I take your silence as a no?” he asked and I panicked suddenly.
“No,” I said a little too loud and he chuckled. “I mean yes. Or wait a minute. No, my silence doesn’t mean no, and yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”
Oh my God, I was such a dork.
“Okay.” He smiled wide and placed the silky material back in my hands, only this time he didn’t pull his hand away. The movement from earlier, the one I had allowed myself to fantasize about, was being repeated. Only this time it was my palm he was rubbing.
I tried not to pant, but it was seriously one of the hardest things to accomplish. I had the urge to climb this man like an oak tree or rub up on him like a cat. He was so damn good looking and he smelled amazing too.
“Tomorrow night?” he asked, and like the idiot I was, I only nodded. “Six thirty?” And yep—I nodded again. He chuckled again. “I’ll pick you up just across the way; I know where you live.”
Apparently Mr. Douglas had been paying attention. That thought sent chills over me as he turned around and walked toward the front door of Sassy Ladies.
Never had a pair of slacks made a man’s ass look as good as they did Chase’s. I bit my lip to keep from moaning and when I noticed that sweet ass was no longer moving I looked up to meet the knowing smirk of the most handsome cop I knew.
Yep, I’d been caught admiring his ass.
Another mark on the embarrassing moments tally board.
Chase Douglas was dangerous to my libido and my sanity. He had my mind racing and my body heating and we hadn’t even gone on a date yet.
I was definitely in for a world of trouble.
Chapter Two
Chase
I walked out of the small boutique with a smile on my face. A smile that made my cheeks ache.
I’d been observing Trinity for some time.
I liked to watch her when she didn’t know I was doing so.
I loved the way her eyes lit up whenever she was surrounded by the Sawyer girls. So many times I wandered out of the police station and found her in the small park just across the street, her golden hair flowing in the breeze while she was lost in her latest paperback. I would find myself just admiring her, getting lost in the moment.
She was beautiful.
But she had no idea just how appealing she was.
I didn’t know every last detail of her past, but I did know a few things. One thing I was sure of was she had this kindness about her that made my chest ache.
Each time I’d see her act silly with one of Ryan’s boys, every single smile she shared with Jackson’s little girl, it just gave me one more chance to witness the beauty she held inside.
Beauty that some asshole tried to diminish.
But then she would pull back just a little, as if the sadness in her tainted every moment of happiness she was gifted.
Like she felt that happiness was something she didn’t deserve. Or she didn’t know just how to accept it.
I hated to see that sadness.
But now I was done watching from afar. I wanted to know her more. I wanted to find the ache in her and heal it.
Replace all those sad memories with nothing but good ones.
Call it the hero syndrome, call it whatever you want. But I called it seeing something I wanted, and finally growing tired of wanting from the sidelines.
It was time I went after what I wanted.
I was going after the girl.
I’d spent months surrounding myself with only two things.
Work and Nana.
They both took up most of my time.
But I needed something more. I needed something for me.
My family deserted Nana after a huge fallout over my grandfather’s will.
Who did that kind of thing, anyway?
Who walked away from a woman who had just lost her husband, who had no one else to turn to, over money and items she was entitled to? All things she and Grandfather built together.
Greed was an ugly thing.
I was ashamed of my parents, and I refused to turn my back on her like everyone else did. One day they’d regret their actions, regret their harsh words.
But in the midst of all the crazy, thinking of Trinity always made me smile.
Hell, her little nervous behaviors and the uncontrollable ramblings—I’d never seen anything more sweet.
I’d sat back and observed long enough. I was ready to get to know the real Trinity.
I had a feeling this girl was going to take me on one hell of a crazy ride.
And nothing excited m
e more.
***
“Chase, I need my walker,” Nana’s weak voice hollered from the other end of the hall. “And my teeth,” she added with a cackle.
She did it every time.
The woman knew that specific thing was my weakness. Hell, I don’t know why, but there was something god-awful about retrieving a set of teeth, soaking in some type of cleaning solution, from the ledge above the sink. I swear the woman did it just to torture me.
And this was just one of the many reasons I needed a life outside of Nana and the station.
I was a twenty-nine-year-old bachelor living with my grandmother. The most exciting thing in my life right now was The Walking Dead on Sunday nights with Nan.
Pathetic, I know.
I walked into the living room carrying a walker in one hand and the entire bright blue container, with the solution still inside holding a set of false teeth, in my other hand.
Ignoring her sly grin, I held the container out, refusing to watch as she reached in and pulled the teeth out herself. My stomach turned and my throat constricted as the liquid from the container sloshed out onto my hand. I tried to think of anything else other than the fact that I was now wearing remnants of my Nana’s slobber and whatever else had been floating in that water on my hand.
That shit was like acid burning through my skin. At least that was how I envisioned it. It was taking everything inside of me to ignore the way it ran over my wrist.
And when I reached the point I could no longer ignore it, I bolted.
Moving like lightning I dropped the walker, spun on my heels and practically sprinted to the kitchen sink, Nan’s laughter following me the entire way.
Tossing the container to the side, I grabbed for the soap and began scrubbing my hands over and over until my stomach settled and I could no longer envision the horror I had just felt.
Nasty, god-awful things had happened to me since I moved in with Nana.