by Lila Rose
The Secret’s Out Copyright © 2015 by Lila Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the permission from the author as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
The Secret’s Out is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, and places found in this book are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons live or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Editor: Hot Tree Editing
Cover image: Shauna Kruse
Cover Designer: Robin Ludwig Designs
Formatting: Hot Tree Editing
ISBN: 978-0-9944525-0-4
“If you buy this illegally, YOU SUCK. YOU WILL BE FOUND OUT! All authors put their hard work, their time away from their families, and their own money into creating their stories. Would you like to work and have people steal your wage?”
~ Lila Rose
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prequel
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
Epilogue
Other Titles by Lila Rose
Connect with Lila Rose
Discover: Addison Jane
Dedication
Neringa Neringiukas
Thank you for your constant support.
You seriously ROCK!
Acknowledgments
Hot Tree Editing—Becky, and her super-duper team, thank you for always being there for me and being amazing and easy to work with. Without a great team, like you ladies, I wouldn’t have gotten the Hawks team out there for everyone to read. I honestly can’t thank you enough.
Justine Littleton, I’m sure everyone knows by now I effing love you! Thanks for... being you!
Jeneane Johnston, Keeana Porter, Debbie Poole, Donna Pemberton, Jill D, Rebecca Allman and Susan Griffiths, thank you all for your help. You ladies are amazing. xx
Rachel Morgan, you, my sister, are fantastic. Even when you get bossy, I know I can always count on you and if I tell you to shut it, you do. Your help with the signings in Australia is always appreciated.
Thank you to my tool man and the kids. Taking on the change in our lives has been hard. I’m not always there now, but you have all been amazing and supported me along the way, even shoved me out the door for my US signings. I love you all.
Bloggers, you know who you are... the hard working supporters of indie authors like myself. Thank you for always having our backs!
Shauna Kruse, thank you for the amazing photoshoot. I love your work! William, Aurora and Ben, you three look amazing on the cover. Thank you for being willing to be a part of it!
Mary Manfield, BJ Harvey, Nicole Lewis, Colleen Sibson and Amity Cross thank you for your messages, phone calls or lunch dates. Without you ladies, I would be a hermit by now. Thank you for keeping me social and sane.
Now, here is a little special shout-out to some amazing women I adore: Kristen Ashley, TL Smith, MariaLisa DeMora, Laura Kaye, Rebecca Fairest Reviews, Addison Jane, Bijou Hunter, Kirsty E Moseley, Elizabeth Thiele, Penny Rudge, Liz Lovelock, Dawn Martens, Jani Kay, Natasha Liggett, Sharon Phillips, Nina Levine, Emma James, Lauren McKellar, Kirsty Dallas, Abbey Neil-Clark, Simone Nicole, Carmen Jenner, Jennifer Ryder, Kristine Barakat, Sapphire Knight, Leah Joslin, Tracie Redmond, Tara Marie, Elle Raven, Susan Child, Jessica Wilde, Melissa Jane, Casey Lalkas, Donna Pemberton, Lindsey Lawson, Mischelly Velasquez, Katie Welks, Erin Daniels, Angela Travers, Tanya Anderson, Virginia Cantrell, Fiona Wilson, Kasey Millstead, Tracey Jamison, Serena Klande, Krystal Fahl, Debbie Poole, JD (Jill) Bookfiend, LM Mercer...I could go on and on, but remember, if I’ve missed anyone, I’ll grab you in the next book. xx
Prequel
Nancy
Nancy Alexandra placed her phone on the table. She looked down, but wasn’t really focused on it. No, her mind was running over things from the phone call she just had.
Her youngest daughter, Josie, hadn’t been home that Christmas holiday. In fact, she hadn’t returned home in a long time and Nancy was worried. For the tenth time that day, she called her daughter’s mobile demanding answers. Only it wasn’t her daughter who supplied them.
Josie’s housemate, where she lived in a small apartment close to her school, had answered.
“Mrs Alexander?” she whispered into the phone. Nancy should have realised then that something was wrong, but she didn’t.
“Simone, honey, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Nancy? Now, can you tell me where my daughter is? I’m getting sick of this run around. She’s either too busy to talk or on her way out somewhere. But I’m worried about my girl, Simone.”
“You should be,” Simone uttered and Nancy started to panic.
Nancy sat straight in her chair. “Tell me, Simone.”
“It’s not really my place.”
“No, Simone, you tell me now so I can help.”
“She won’t want her mum here. That’ll make things worse.”
“Simone, tell me!”
“Josie’s in the bathroom, but I can hear her crying. She cries a lot, Nancy, and I think it has to do with some guys who are hassling her. She’s so quiet and timid. The stupid-heads find it fun to cause her problems.”
“Is that all?” Nancy snapped in a hard tone.
“I-I think so? Please, please don’t come here. I swear it’ll make things worse.”
“Oh, I won’t come, darling. I’ll be sending someone else.”
“Who?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just know help will be arriving soon, and watch over my girl ‘til then.”
“I will, Mrs–I mean, Nancy.”
“Thank you, Simone, for telling me.”
“I hate seeing Josie upset.”
“I do also. I’m going to let you go now. I need to make a phone call.”
Simone hung up the phone and not long after, Nancy stared at the phone on the table thinking. She picked it back up again and put it to her ear.
“Hello, my wonderful son-in-law.”
“Nancy,” was all Talon said.
“Josie is having trouble as school. Some guys are...annoying her, Talon.” Usually, Nancy would taunt him to get a rise, but she wasn’t in the mood, and she knew her son-in-law could tell by her tone.
“Fuck,” Talon growled low. “I’ll handle it.”
“Good,” Nancy said and hung up.
Chapter One
Josie
Life on my own wasn’t what I thought it would be. Two years of living away from home was getting to me. Two years of independence, two years of finding myself was...hard. Harder than I pictured. Sure, I found myself...in a way. Sure, I ha
d independence. I had a job, had a great friend, and a roof over my head. Still, all I wanted was to be home. Be with the family who had opened their arms wide for me. They had adopted me, regardless of how troubled I was. I missed my sister, Zara, my brother, Matthew, but especially my mum and dad. I even missed my brothers-in-law, the goofy one, Julian, and the sometimes scary one, Talon. Most of all, I missed my nieces and nephews. Their light had helped me through many dark times. They were young and didn’t know the real world could be scary. It was their excitement over little things that I appreciated and missed.
Which was why I had stayed away from home so many times over the past two years, because if I went there, I knew I’d want to stay and never leave again. I’d want back in their world, their open arms and the protection they provided me each and every day. I’d want to be surrounded in it all once more and forever. Never leaving again.
However, I had to stay strong.
I wanted to prove to them, and especially myself, I was able to live in the real world, no matter how scared I was each day, or how my brain screamed at me to stop the ridiculousness and get home. And no matter how much I hated living through the taunting and teasing each day for the past year, my decision was resolute.
Since they found out I was petrified of most men, of human contact, it had all changed.
The first time it happened they enjoyed the reaction they got from me. They thrived on the fact that it unnerved me.
Since then, it happened all the time, just so they could see me cower and cringe.
I was lucky to have found Simone, the sweet girl with shoulder-length black hair and dark blue eyes. It was as though fortune had rained down on me when it was Simone who answered the same ad I had two years earlier. It was an ad in the local paper I’d found before I moved to Melbourne, for two house guests to look after a fully furnished home while the owner travelled for business. When the owner was home, we rarely saw him. He tended to stay in the master bedroom. He was quiet and kept to himself, like me.
The idea of living my life as the local cat lady or hermit had been promising, for the first few months after I had moved in, which was possibly why Simone took it upon herself to get me out and about. She was determined for me to start living my life the way an eighteen-year-old should after flying the nest.
She showed me there was hope, kindness and love in the world outside of my family.
Simone was a great friend, the best anyone could have, trusting, loyal and bubbly. She took me under her wing and showed me how to get drunk, do shots, and dance until my legs wanted to fall from my body, just so they could rest. Dancing was fun.
At least I had that one year respite at uni before my new hell started. Even then, I kept to my shy self, still forming the knowledge of how people went about their day, how they communicated in the different way I was with my family. If it weren’t for Simone, I would have been on my own, and surviving would have been the wrong term.
Everything had been okay...until Cameron Peterson took an interest in me.
At first I thought he was different.
I thought he was nice.
I’d been wrong on so many levels.
To start off, he had been nice, sweet even. He saw that I was shy, but still he approached me slowly and with caution. He said kind things to me and didn’t invade my comfort zone. But things must have been moving too slow for him, because after one weekend, a weekend where we saw each other out at a club, he changed.
He thought he owned me.
He thought I wanted him.
He had been wrong and he didn’t like it.
The night we were out, he was drunk, and he was a mean drunk. I knew that because once he spotted me on the dance floor, he stalked over to me with a feral glint in his eyes, or so Simone explained afterwards when she watched his approach. His hands went straight to my waist. I flinched and tried to move away, but his grip tightened. My breath caught in my throat. For a moment, all but a second, I was scared it was David. The man who took so many things from me, but most of all, my innocence. Even though I knew the sudden thought was ridiculous as he was dead, I couldn’t stop the fear seeping into my body. I stiffened as Cameron rubbed his arousal into my backside. Simone, sensing my fear, like she did every time, came forward and pushed Cameron back. I hadn’t told Simone of my past; however, she only had to watch me, like any other, to see that I was new to physical contact from people I didn’t know. She always did her best to steer people away from me, no matter the situation and slowly, she was teaching me not all contact was bad. Not when it came from people I knew and trusted, so when she hugged me, I only flinched a little when it would startle me. I turned to see Cameron sneer at Simone, until he noticed I was watching and changed his expression to a lusty, drunken smile.
“Hey, baby,” he said.
I cringed. “I-I’m not your baby, Cameron.”
“Sure you are.” He reached for me again. I backed up a step, my hands out in front of me. “Don’t be like that.” He chuckled.
In a loud enough voice so he could hear me over the pumping music, I said, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t touch me, please.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Jo-Jo, you know you want me. I see the way you look at me.” Lightning fast, he reached out and snagged my wrist, dragging me forward so our chests collided.
“Don’t. Please, don’t, you’re drunk. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I pleaded and tried to pry myself away. Simone stepped up next to us trying to get Cameron off me, but he wouldn’t have it. They started yelling at each other.
Tears formed, and just as quickly, they rolled down my cheeks, leaving a wet trail behind. There was no way to stop the whirlwind of emotions wreaking havoc inside my body. Spotting my tears, Cameron wiped them away. Ignoring Simone, he leaned toward me to get my attention. “You want me, Jo-Jo, like all the girls do. No one says no to me.” Then he slammed his lips down on mine. I struggled and fought against him, but nothing worked, so when he shoved his tongue inside my mouth, I bit him.
Pushed away by strong hands, I stumbled into Simone. She wrapped her arms around my waist to steady me. “You stupid jerk,” Simone screamed. People started taking notice. I was surprised they hadn’t beforehand, though most were drunk and in their own little worlds. Some looked too scared to say or do anything. I couldn’t blame them. I would have been the same.
“You stupid bitch,” he snarled at me. He wiped his mouth and studied me. Whatever he saw had him smirking. “You really hate it, don’t you? Touching, attention. Here I thought you were just shy, but now I know you have mental problems.” He chuckled. “Makes it more fun for me.” He winked, turned, and walked away.
From that night on, he became my personal nightmare. I was terrified by his obsession with me.
He’d show up wherever I was. His eyes travelled along with every step I took. His smirk turned sexual and his words sinister. He wanted me, but he couldn’t have me and he did not like that at all. So much so, if he couldn’t make it to me, he’d have his friends do his job for him and they’d follow me. I could hear their fake whispered conversations of how strange I was. They’d call me names like tease, slut and ugly.
All I wanted was to be left alone.
However, they wouldn’t. They were puppets following their master’s lead.
Once, six months ago, I even tried to go on a date with a shy guy like me. I could tell he was nervous. He didn’t even make a move to hold my hand, which I liked. It went well, until Cameron showed up at the café. He slid into the booth opposite me, next to my date, and told him that I was a cock tease, that I had problems, and was mentally unstable. He warned my date that if he continued to date me, I would turn into a stalker, like I had with him. Apparently, Cameron was just following the ‘bro code’. All men had to stick together and warn each other of the freaks, like me.
Of course, because my date was worried it was true and the fact that he didn’t want Cameron’s attention, he fled the café and I nev
er saw him again.
After that, Cameron went from standing back and teasing, to touching. Any chance he got, he would rub up against me, run his hand down my back. Pretend to lean in to kiss me or tap me on the shoulder and yell, “Boo.” Again, if he couldn’t be around to do it, he’d have his friends fill in for him.
Every day I was a nervous wreck.
I’d become a jittery fool, one who was even more timid and withdrawn than I’d been after Zara and Talon saved me from David.
I was losing hope in society once more. I knew Simone saw it. I knew she was worried for me, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t go to the police. I didn’t want the attention, and I knew Cameron would make my life worse than it already was.
My grades declined, and once more, my social skills took a hit. I was like a zombie walking around campus, with my head low, my books to my chest and a hunched posture, all while I waited for hell to begin for the day.
Even my boss, a fifty-year-old woman named Marybeth, noticed the change in me. I’d lost count of how many times she had asked me if I was okay. All I could do was nod. Thankfully, due to my ‘shyness’, she had taken me off floor duty, from serving customers. Instead, I was out back helping with the preparation of the food and washing the dishes. I loved her for it. She knew I struggled being around strangers. At first, she’d encouraged me to try floor duty and for a while there, I loved it because I didn’t have to touch anyone and I only had to speak a few words...until everything went pear-shaped because of Cameron.
Misery was my name and I didn’t know how to change it.
I wanted to reach out to my parents, my sister or brother even, but I didn’t. Why? Because I felt I needed to deal with it on my own. It was my choice to move away. It was my choice to attend university, to be independent. So if I ran home, if I rang them crying about how terrible it all was, I would be a failure. I couldn’t become that person. I needed to show, not only myself, but my family that I had grown. Their protection, their love had contributed to my freedom, my independence. I was no longer that little girl who was carried from a nightmare. At least, I didn’t feel I was. No matter what I was enduring every day and no matter how much it hurt, strength grew inside of me.