This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are fiction. Any and all resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2014 by April Raynne
All rights reserved.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission of the copyright holder.
Editing by: Frankie’s Freelance Editing
Sexy Cover By: Darryl Mercer
Interior Design by: Kassi Cooper of Kassi’s Kandids Formatting
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Captured Secret Playlist
Acknowledgements
Bonus Material
“I’LL BE BACK IN A SECOND, Bro,” I say, getting out of Pierce’s truck.
“Nothing like backtracking, Bitch.”
“Whatever,” I mutter as I shove the car door shut.
Taking two stairs at a time, I book it up to the apartment that I share with my girlfriend, Lacey. It’s a townhome. Nothing too special, but it’s ours. Well, at least for the year we’ve rented it. She loves it because our ground floor starts on the second level. You don’t find many built like this in Orlando.
I’m already missing my girl, even though I haven’t been away from her for more than thirty-five minutes. She’s a waitress at a local wing joint and they scheduled her to work today. Maybe, I won’t be right back if she’s awake and getting her hot ass ready for work.
Pierce and I had to run to the store. We got the essentials of ice and beer for a day at the beach. I just need to get away. With school, work, interning, and my grandparents … the beach will do me some good. At the store, I realized I didn’t have my sunglasses, and squinting all day at the beach is just not going to work for me.
Entering the apartment, I hear her muffled voice upstairs. I’m going to grab a grope and a kiss before I have to go all day without seeing her. Pierce and I will catch up with her later to finish out our drinking session; who better to tip than your own girlfriend?
Coming up the interior stairs, I see that our bedroom door is open. I make the turn at the door frame and… I freeze. The blood drains out of my head and my lungs constrict not allowing me to breathe. Confusion and shock will not allow my brain to register what my eyes are seeing. My feet feel like someone poured concrete over them and it’s completely set. I should be freaking the fuck out. Yet, I’m just standing here, in disbelief, feeling paralyzed. Holy shit, this cannot be happening.
What really is all of ten seconds, feels like ten hours. My girl…my Lacey… straddling some dude, naked, and grinding her body against his. Register, dammit, so I can react!
My mind flashes back to the first time I saw her, to our first date, our first kiss; the first time I told her I loved her, the first time we had sex. I can see us smiling as we graduated high school, happily registering for college and excited when we finally moved in together. Me, finally feeling wanted for the first time in my life.
Violent tremors bring me back to my current nightmare when Lacey moans out her pleasure and her head falls back. That’s when she sees me. Her face is horrified. Finally, my brain gets with the program and stops rejecting the reality that’s right in front of me. My girl is cheating on me. Anger sets in and my blood starts to boil in my veins.
“Oh my, God! Ty… this isn’t... shit … let me explain,” Lacey pleads breathlessly. I have to believe she says this so breathless, not because she is doing all that fucking on my bed, but because she’s stunned to see me standing here. She begins to move off of the motherfucker that she’s fucking and the concrete finally releases me.
Lacey’s eyes are wild with fear. “I’m sorry, Love, let me explain. It’s not what it looks like…we were just…”
My voice booms throughout our bedroom, “You were just…what? And what fucking exactly is there to explain, Lacey!”
She lunges and grabs my arm with both of her hands. “Ty, just give me a minute, I didn’t mean to do this…”
I pull out of her hold with force. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare fucking touch me!”
“Hey man,” My eyes fly up and see Curt, our neighbor, standing behind Lacey. Apparently, he is her new fuck buddy. “Don’t get violent with her, okay?”
I’m literally an inch from his face before I even realize I’ve moved. “You, need to shut the fuck up and get the fuck out, before I get violent with you!”
I feel a breast on my arm and Lacey screaming what I believe is for me not to kill this guy, literally. I stand my ground and lean into him even closer keeping my eyes looking directly into his. The air leaving my lungs feels like fire every time I snort out a ragged breath. My ears are deaf from my blood pulsing in my ears. Wisely, Curt timidly moves away from me and books it down the interior stairs. My head is spinning out of control. I close my eyes to try and slow my heart. I can’t seem to release the fists I have formed to beat in Curt’s face.
“Listen, Ty, it was just this once, Love. Things got a little out of control. I never wanted it to go this far.”
I spin on my heels to face her naked frame. “How could you? I was gone for thirty-five minutes! And, you’re the woman that tells me you love me? I went against my family for you! I gave up all the financial support for you! I work my ass off for you!”
“I do love you, with all of my heart. We can fix this, I can fix this. It was just sex, nothing more.”
My head is cloudy and I feel on the verge of losing control, and I try to keep a grip on rational thoughts. But the bottom line is... I’m crushed…blindsided…devastated. “Just like that, huh?” Fury explodes out of my mouth. “You’ll fix this! It was just sex! You’ve ruined everything, Lacey! What the fuck is wrong with you! I thought we were happy! We were in love! I thought…finally…someone loves me, for just me! How the fuck could you do this to me? To us!”
My fist slams through the drywall and I hear her blood curdling scream! I stagger toward our bedroom door to get away from this stranger I’ve been living with. I see my sunglasses, but I don’t grab them. Instead, I use force and shove our tall dresser over on its side.
“Un-fucking-believable!” I yell as I start down the interior stairs.
She’s right on my heels hysterically sobbing, desperate to get me to stop. Once I hit the last step, she pleads, “Ty, please don’t leave. I beg you to stop and talk this through.” I can’t stop. I can’t talk. This will be a really bad situation if I do. Anger, confusion and hurt drive me to the front door. I have to get away from her. I feel like I’m going to lose all self-control in a matter of seconds. “Please! Ty! Oh, please don’t leave me! I need you! I NEED you!”
I look up when I hit the bottom of the outside stairs. There is the girl I love; the one I thought was forever, standing wrapped in a throw blanket looking down at me. I can’t register what she is saying. I just watch the tears drip off her chin and her sad mouth move. I’m devastated, trashed inside, and crazy with rage. Why? Where did I go w
rong? Weren’t we happy? What the fuck happened? Why was I not good enough…again? Why am I not good enough…ever?
In this very moment, I know there is no turning back for us. In this moment, I vow never again to give my heart to another. Never again, will I fall this hard, because in the end, you get burned. This is exactly how love ends.
2½ Years Later
IT’S FINALLY MY TURN AT THE KEURIG. I hit the blinking brew button, and watch my afternoon hot black coffee mix with the creamy, sugary goodness that was already in my coffee cup. I wade through my co-workers that are doing the Monday zombie walk, or fighting a weekend hangover to get back to my desk. Considering I got here at 6 am this morning, and have two hours on their asses …I have zero sympathy. I put my coffee down and plop into my chair. Only about an hour and a half left to get through, and I’m outta here. Just as I’m about to take a sip, my phone rings. “Thank you for calling Medipoint. This is Stella Avery, how may I help you?”
“I need you.” Zoey rarely sounds panicked. She is always Mrs. Happy Go Lucky with not a care in the world.
“What happened, friend?” I ask quietly into the phone. My supervisor frowns on private phone conversations, and working out of a cubical, does not offer much privacy.
“You have to go with me! You cannot say no, Stella! It is your best friend duty, so there is NO getting out of this,” She says it as if I’ve already put my foot down, and declined.
“Anything, Zoey, what is it?” My heart starts to speed up.
“I need you to go to some going away party with me. I do not want to go alone. It’s time, Stella, this guy is different, everything feels different with him. I don’t know why I’m freaking, this is just not me, but I’m not ready to be introduced without my bestie for the restie. It’s on a weeknight and I know you’ll miss Brock’s soccer game, and you’ll just have to get by on limited sleep, and clothes…I need you to help pick my outfit. I’m meeting his boys, Stella, not to mention other people in his world. He is so ready to meet you and I’m ready for you to meet him. I’m not keeping you two apart any longer. He is amazing and you are going to fall in love with him, and by the way, I’m, like, totally talking crazy with my hands and you can’t see it over the damn phone.” She finally breathes from her never-ending run on sentence. Were there any periods in that rant? I pause and take in what she’s saying. Her urgency and the problem just don’t add up in my brain. I was expecting to hear a real dilemma, but this is Zoey, she’s my best friend, and she rarely sounds so frantic.
Pierce has been different. They have been inseparable for over a month, which is way more than her usual night or nights of casual sex. She met Pierce at work. He’s a paramedic. They both work on the same side of town, so most of his patients are taken to her hospital.
“Don’t freak, I’ll go with you. You will be just fine. But can we talk about this tonight at home?” I mutter into the phone.
“Yes, I just needed to know you would go. Okay, I can relax... I’ll let you go and see you soon.” She breathes an obvious sigh of relief.
“Zoey, please don’t freak me out like that again. I thought something terrible happened.” My heart is no longer pounding. Now, I’m just a little annoyed. It won’t last long, she can’t help that she’s a drama queen.
“See you at home, loves you...bye.” The phone disconnects and she hangs up with a smile in her voice. That girl, she doesn’t stay down long.
Zoey and I have been best friends since sixth grade when we met in middle school. We are the typical good fit; the whole opposites attract thing. She is smart, outgoing, beautiful and driven. I’ve always been the more shy and reserved type. I’m one of those girls you have to get to know, and then I come out of my shell. It’s then that you find out that I really am a nice and caring person. Zoey has always said I come off as a “snob.” That makes me laugh; it’s such a teenage term.
Zoey is definitely the beautiful one of the two of us. I’ll admit, I’m a pretty girl, but I wouldn’t go any further than that. My green eyes and straight long layered hair gets me compliments quite often.
My dad raised me from about age eight. He dated, but we didn’t have a woman full time in our house. It’s always left me wondering if I’m girly enough, considering clothes, shoes, and shopping, are not my three loves in life. Getting my light brown hair highlighted blonde, along with the occasional mani and pedi are the extent to me beautifying myself. I’m a pretty low maintenance girl.
Right after high school, Zoey and I enrolled in college to become registered nurses. She registered at UCF, here in Orlando, Florida. I had no choice but to choose a smaller school due to my limited finances and lack of scholarships. Zoey’s parents are in the medical field and our inspiration. They set her path, and she is now working as a registered nurse in a hospital in the downtown area. Me... I’m a medical coder. Obviously, I didn’t stay on the path.
“Stella?” Samantha calls quietly over the cubbies. We have a tendency just to assume the other person is always sitting at her desk. I can’t tell you the number of times that she and I told a long story and couldn’t figure out why the other one was being so quiet. That’s when you figure out that the other person left their desk. “If I leave here in the next couple minutes, can you answer my phone? I know the boss man will say yes if you’re covering me.”
It’s not like I have anything to do tonight. “Yeah, of course, Sam, you gotta date tonight?”
“It’s the same guy from Saturday night. He wants to do drinks and dinner.” She doesn’t sound too sure of the plans.
“Who knows where you’re going, just me?”
“No, Mom.” The sarcasm drips off her words. “My roomie knows too.” She pauses and I wait for her to speak. “You know, he was a nice guy. I’m just not sure he really does it for me. I had on some serious beer goggles Saturday night, so I’m limiting myself to one drink an hour for this date. Does that make sense?”
I giggle at her limits. “It does. Now, go and have fun. I’ve got you covered, woman.”
“Thanks, Stella. See you tomorrow.” I can hear her getting her things together, and then she leaves.
Sam and I are like two peas in a pod. We’re together all day, five days a week. She’s only about one year older than me, and goes on way more dates than I do. I can totally appreciate wanting to feel an attraction to a man and not just dating him because your friend, mom, or co-worker set you up. Sexual attraction is not all there is to a relationship, but you have to admit , if you don’t want the guy to kiss you or touch you, should one really keep trying? The guy might have a kick ass personality, a great career, a nice steady life and be a flippin’ millionaire, but if you can’t fathom him touching you...it ends there for me.
I’ve put in about twelve hours when 6:00 pm hits. I’m so ready to call it quits. We aren’t required to work such long days, but I do…I like the overtime money. As long as you are being productive, you can work as much as you want. We are a busy company, and considering I’ve been at Medipoint for two and a half years, I know these codes like the back of my hand.
I’ve been trying to make good decisions. All the credit card debt I got myself into has been paid off. So now, I move onto replacing my junker of a car. I shouldn’t complain, she gets me to work, home and some places in between, but she is forcing my hand and making the decision for me. Per my mechanic, the issues that need to be addressed are more than the damn car is worth, so working my ass off is what I do. It sometimes feels like it’s all I do.
The thought of Italian food, with a big glass of wine has my tummy growling as I get my shit together to leave. I’ll make dinner and get some details out of my desperate best friend. Whose going away party is it anyway? As I walk out, I say good-bye to the last two remaining co-workers who obviously have no life like me. That’s an awful generalization. Those two probably partied like rock stars and wound up in a fucking ménage a trios’ this weekend. Unlike my crazy fun weekend filled with doing laundry, and lying by the pool. Don�
��t assume everyone is like your lame ass, Stella.
Zoey and I live in the historical district in Downtown Orlando. All the homes are small, since most of them were built in the 1930s. They’ve all been renovated and now are cute, stylish and expensive. Someone bought two homes, demolished them, and built an eight unit condo community. We live in one of those. It has three bedrooms and three bathrooms. The spare bedroom has a futon for overnight guest and doubles as an office. Although, most sleep overs are in my roommate’s bed. It’s weird to think that I wasn’t always such a damn prude.
I push open the door to our place and feel instant relaxation. I walk into the kitchen, which is right off the foyer, and dump my stuff on the breakfast bar.
Zoey doesn’t do well in the kitchen. She does well drinking a glass of wine while I do all the cooking. Looking at the sectional on the way to my bedroom makes me want to sink down, and lose myself in a really good book. I change into some comfy fleece pants and tank top and off to the kitchen I go. Zoey will be home in about a half an hour, so I put a bottle of Shiraz in the fridge. Don’t judge on the chilled red wine...it’s how we like it.
Forty-five minutes later, I hear the front door open. “Honey, I’m home!” Zoey loudly announces, walking in the door. I’m just getting the wine out of the fridge when I’m met with her bright smile. Funny, how it sometimes feels like we are an old married couple, without the sex and attraction.
“Just in time, honey... dinner is almost ready,” I reply in my best southern accent. Not sure why I chose that one.
“I’ve missed you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” She grabs me by the shoulders and looks me over as if it’s been years and not only three nights. “You got your hair done, and your tan. You lived by the pool this weekend, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, she cut about three inches off, but it needed it. Hell yeah, I was by the pool all weekend. It was therapeutic after working fifty plus hours last week.”
“You always work fifty plus hours a week, Stella.” Zoey raises an eyebrow and scolds me with her eyes.
Captured Secret (The Captured Series) Page 1