Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  Table of Contents

  Davenport Harbor

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  EPILOGUE

  Books By Mayra Statham

  About the author

  Discover New Authors

  Six Degrees Series

  Book Three

  Davenport Harbor

  by

  Mayra Statham

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 by Mayra Statham

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  First off to my wonderful hubby. Thank You for being my number one cheerleader. I love you!

  My beautiful kids, you three are the greatest thing I have ever done. If you could learn one thing from me, I would say, reach for your dream and never stop; even when one dream turns into another.

  My wonderful street team, thank you for your incredible support. You guys mean so much to me!

  ReCreatives, Thank you for the amazing cover!

  Julia Goda: Thank you for making this book shine the way you did. John and Anne’s story is so much better now. Thank you!

  The Art of Romance and their leading lady Yolanda, Thank You for your help promoting and organizing everything, but mostly for the honor of being able to call you my friend.

  Beta Readers: Cindi, Tracie, Heather, Lauren, Ceci…Your input and opinions helped so much in creating John and Anne’s story. I have no words to thank you enough.

  Jordan Marie, Tammie Smith, CP Smith, Julia Goda, RB HIllard, Fran Owen, CJ Fling & Jennifer Miller, Your friendship and guidance means the world to me. There are not enough words of gratitude, so I guess all I can really say is thank you for being you. Each of you are important, appreciated and loved!

  Dedication

  Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall ~Confucius

  Prologue

  HIM

  Nightmares. I hate the fucking things. The memories that your mind ignores, letting them lie in the dark corners only to have them come out and play in the middle of the night or when the mood strikes. The realism of mine are what get to me:

  Everything turns red and murky; my mind is fuzzy with booze. Fuck, I shouldn’t have drunk so damn much. No matter what, the middle of May always does this to me. No matter how much I drink or try to ignore the past, it all comes back…

  Mossy green eyes that were once so happy and bright turn dull and flat; until they close and filter away, disappearing into a tiny little box. I see those same mossy green eyes, but this time they belong to her. She’s yelling and screeching at me, but my mind is too fuzzy to pay attention from the constant swaying. God, I hate her voice. She hates me. She died hating me.

  Sitting up in bed, I’m so far gone I no longer know if this is real or a nightmare. My eyes fall towards the bathroom and I stare at the pristine white tiles. For a small moment I’m relieved, thinking I’m finally awake, my mind wobbling back and forth; it’s gone. The nightmare is finally gone . . . the thought frozen in my mind, my relief is short-lived as the white floor tiles turn red.

  Blood red.

  Watching the feminine hand slumped over the edge of the bath, red thick water covering my feet as it overflows from the tub.

  My hands are in my hair; the nightmares never go away…

  HER

  Anxiety fills me as I look at the small test in my shaking hands: plus sign.

  A plus sign. My hand goes to my flat, almost concave stomach as my eyes look in the mirror and I have no idea who that woman is. Bruised and battered are the only two words I can seem to conjure up to describe the woman staring back at me. Licking my lips, I wince in pain; pain I’m surprised I can even feel.

  For a whole year now, all I’ve felt is pain. Pain and fear.

  My eyes drift to the test resting on the countertop, the tips of my fingers tracing the plus sign. It’s positive. Somehow, looking at it gives me strength I didn’t know I possessed after feeling as broken as I have. I look at my eyes and nothing else. Ignoring the blue, purple, and green tones that mar my bruised face; I look at my eyes and only there. Nothing more. Not the horrible stringy, bottle-blond hair I hate or the discoloring of my skin or the swelling on my face. This is it, it’s do or die time. If I stay here that is exactly what is going to happen: I am going to die. He is going to kill me one day. He threatens me daily with it.

  Looking at my hazel eyes, I breathe in deeply, my hand still over my stomach. A calm energy like I’ve never known sweeps over me. Looking at the clock, I wrap the test in toilet paper and carefully lean down, grabbing the empty bottle of shampoo I’ve hidden underneath the vanity that I’d been filling with every dollar and piece of spare change I could hide away. I pack both quietly into the duffel bag that I have kept buried in the back of the closet since the last time I tried to run away. Placing it over my shoulder, ignoring the bite of pain, without a second look or thought, I leave everything behind.

  It is time to start anew for both my baby and me.

  Chapter One

  John Davenport

  The rain pouring down in an unusual way for Southern California only added an extra knot of tension to my shoulders. Trying to roll them so they didn’t feel as stiff as they did, only made me realize that maybe I’d pushed it a little too much at the gym with Nick and Mike. The stiffness only added to my bad mood. A thick fog started to settle as I hopped into my BMW X5. Driving down the windy road of my hill, I noticed an older model silver Honda Civic with its emergency lights turned
on at the opposite side of the road. Knowing that no one was supposed to be here since it was my private road, I groaned and made a U-Turn.

  I didn’t have time for this shit.

  Whoever it is must have gotten turned around.

  Before getting out of the car I sent Mike a quick text letting him know I was running late. Stepping out of my car, leaving my lights on, my dress shirt getting wet because of the damn rain, I could feel myself start to become more irritated. I was already late to Mike and Sabrina’s because my receptionist had decided to up and quit, leaving me short-handed and making my day go from bad to worse. Then I had let Nick and Mike goad me into competing with them while we lifted weights at the gym after work. Now I’d be running even later because I was soaked and would have to run back home to change.

  Mike was going to chew my ass out.

  Somehow Mike had talked me into watching the kids...all four of them. The older three basically watched themselves, but baby Nikki was less than a year old now. I wasn’t sure how exactly, but somehow he’d talked me into it, begging for a night out with his wife. Maybe it was because baby Nikki was so enchantingly beautiful and she’d mystically wrapped me around her little finger from the moment she’d been born; or maybe it was because their kids were pretty funny; or maybe it was because Mike was a poor married sap now and he needed a night out with his beautiful wife and I had momentarily felt sorry for the guy. Whatever it was, I’d been completely suckered into being a babysitter tonight. Thinking about my best friend and his family made me want to smile and frown at the same time. They were sickeningly cute.

  I could see a small shadowy figure kneeling by the passenger side tire so I shouted, “Hello!”

  “Hi.” A small feminine voice drifted into the air and I felt my headache begin to worsen.

  “Do you need help?” I offered, trying to make out the figure kneeling by the passenger side.

  “No, thank you,” the feminine voice squeaked and I rolled my eyes.

  Women had no idea what they were doing changing a tire, and as confident as this one sounded, I would have bet ten grand without blinking she had no clue whatsoever about what she was doing.

  “It’s raining,” I remarked, my voice tight with irritation.

  “Thanks for the weather update, Captain Obvious,” the squeaky voice turned snarky, and I glared in her direction.

  Taking a deep breath as I stared ahead into the old car, I noticed a baby seat in the back. Mike had made me go shopping with him when Sabrina was pregnant with Nikki. Who was I kidding? I’d gone willingly, enjoying his joy and happiness and never losing an opportunity to goad him about having lost his balls to a jar next to his wife’s nightstand.

  Almost groaning at the fact that I was definitely going to have to help this snarky woman, I took a couple of steps towards her.

  “Look, I can get that changed for you faster than you can.” She laughed humorlessly, shaking her head, and all I could do was scowl. Instead of laughing, she should have been grateful I was willing to help her.

  “I don’t know if you realize this, but women can do a lot of things now. Vote, work outside of the home, wear pants, even read! All kinds of things only men used to be able to do," she sassed as she grunted trying to take off a lug nut, “So if you don’t mind, you can go on your way,” she clipped and I bit back a smile.

  Her quick wit is slightly refreshing.

  This kitten has claws.

  “I get women's lib and everything, but it’s not safe to be here all alone. No one is going to pass by on this road,” I explained as her shoulders squared.

  “Why do you say that?” She asked wearily, and I noticed the knuckles on her hand tightening the tire iron were almost ghostly white as she stood up. The oversized grey hoodie that she was wearing would have made her shapeless, but with the rain that had poured down you could make out how thin she was. I still hadn’t seen her face. From where I stood, she seemed tiny. Not height wise; she was definitely taller than average. Five foot seven, or maybe even eight.

  “Because this is a private road. My road. You’re on my hill. Now, why don't you get into your car with your baby and I’ll change your tire.”

  “How did you know I have a baby with me?” She asked as her face moved into the moonlight, and for a moment I felt like something hit me hard straight in the chest.

  She was beautiful. Completely and utterly beautiful. Almost angelic.

  Long dark brown, almost black hair messily stuffed underneath her hoodie that was now soggily plastered around her head; huge what looked to be dark surprised doe eyes staring back at me. My eyes travelled down to her mouth and my body warmed instantly. Full, lush lips almost too big for her face...almost. For a moment I lost the ability to speak. Her dark eyes were slightly frightened behind her bravado and I could only imagine that I looked like some crazy predator.

  “I saw the car seat,” I pointed at the car, rolling my eyes, feeling exasperated by my reaction to her. Instantly, I took in how her shoulders slumped almost in relief. I wondered if she was in some sort of trouble. Don’t go there, Johnny Boy.

  “Oh, okay. Look, I’m sorry I’m on your property. I’ll be gone as soon as I can get this changed,” her voice softened slightly.

  “No offense, but I’m already soaked and running late thanks to you. Let me change the tire. You can get in your car, turn the heater on, and try to warm up,” I told her as I walked to the car.

  The closer I got, the more I couldn’t help but take in how beautiful she was. Flawless porcelain skin that was flushed slightly pink, probably from the cold and rain; her eyes were bright but slightly scared. The fear in her eyes didn’t sit well in my stomach, but I shook my head, trying not to think too much about it. I tried to ignore the feeling in my chest, tried to ignore feeling anything at all. I’d done it before. I could do it again.

  “Look, it's really nice of you to offer, but you should go,” she said defensively, standing a little straighter but wincing slightly, one of her hands going to her side, probably from the cold.

  “It's freezing out here and all you have on is a hoodie. I can't leave you in the middle of a deserted road with a baby,” I told her as I folded the sleeves of my now wet shirt up my forearms. When I reached her, I put my hand out and she looked at me. Our eyes met head-on, and I felt like I’d been hit by lightning with one fucking look. Not that I was going to let it distract me.

  She sighed and handed me the wrench without touching me; I wanted to smile and roll my eyes at the same time. But this close, I caught her scent; it was almost as debilitating as when I looked at her. She smelled clean, slightly sweet. An urge to nuzzle my face in her neck hit me hard so I scowled and shook my head, hoping the effect of her would fade away.

  Anne Carter

  I watched as he started to change the flat tire. For someone as big and tall as he was, he was extremely graceful. I stood by the passenger door instead of climbing inside the car like he’d ordered me to do. Peeking into the car, I saw that my baby girl was thankfully still asleep.

  “It’s cold. You should get in and try to warm up,” he scolded again and I rolled my eyes.

  Not that my Good Samaritan wasn’t right or that I wasn’t appreciative of him trying to be nice. I was. I just couldn’t afford to run the car, not when the gas tank was near empty. That was why my girl had so many baby blankets over her.

  Breathing in deeply, the cold hit me harder. The chill was burning at the center of my bones. I was freezing and in so much pain I wasn’t sure how the heck I was still standing. I’d hoped that I could hide in the hills overnight after fixing the flat, giving myself some time to process everything that had happened tonight and hopefully shake off this damn cold I’d caught. I hadn't realized that it was private property though, much less expected the owner to see me. My heart was beyond heavy with the few options I had left, making me sick to my stomach at how He had found me. He’d almost found out about her.

  “Thanks, but I’ll wait here.” I s
ounded rude, but I just couldn’t help it. I tried to bite away the pain at my side.

  He’d found me. After over a year on the run, he’d found me and I’d barely escaped. My silver lining was that he hadn’t seen Zoey. I tried not to wince as I held my side tightly; trying to ignore how much it hurt to breathe. Adrenaline still rushed through my mind. I had no clue how I’d escaped. If it hadn’t been for my elderly neighbor, Mr. Campbell, I’d be dead. Or worse!

  At the thought of what worse could be, and everything it entailed, my heart galloped violently in my chest as the fear I’d tried to keep at bay for the last year and a half threatened to break free. My vision blurred and it had nothing to do with the rain pouring down. Unshed tears and a headache to end all headaches overwhelmed me. I had to breathe. I had to breathe and figure this out.

  I looked down at my growling Samaritan who was staring back at me. His dark eyes were slightly irritated, and he had a frown on his face.

  “You okay?” He asked.

  “Yeah,” I lied. I was so far from okay it wasn’t even funny. But he didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m John, by the way.” John. His name suited him.

  He was a bit gruff yet had a classic attractive way about him. Tall, dark, and handsome somehow fit his description to a T. He had a body that even below the stuffy business clothes, I could tell he’d worked on. Something about his forearms drew my attention. Dark hair covered the sinewy muscles that were stretching and flexing as he worked to change the tire, and it enthralled me. He was definitely sexy. Too bad I wasn’t interested, or would never take that chance again. I’d learned my lesson, got the tee shirt as a souvenir on the way out. I was off men. Not that a man like him would give me a second glance.

  “Nice to meet you, John, I’m Anne,” I answered without thinking.

  For the first time since I’d left the nightmare that my life had become, I gave someone my real name. My heart raced at the idea of someone coming to question him, but the soft look he gave me made me happy I told the truth.