Being Lovers

by Rachel Carrington

  Other Independently Published Books

  by Rachel Carrington

  Paranormal Romance

  Vampire Cursed

  Vampire Forgotten

  Vampire Betrayed

  Vampire’s Fury

  Vampires Destined (a box set)

  Souls Divided

  Spirit Series Prequel

  Share Our Souls

  The Spirit Series Book 1

  Unite Our Souls

  The Spirit Series Book II

  Keep Our Souls

  The Spirit Series Book III

  The Spirit Series

  Fantasy Romance

  The First Spell

  Hot Magic Series Prequel

  Romantic Suspense

  Extreme Measures

  Sweet Poison

  Connecting Strangers

  Discovering Emily Series Book 1

  Science Fiction/Fantasy Romance

  Waking Up Immortal

  Being Lovers

  Discovering Emily Series

  Book Two

  Rachel Carrington

  Copyright ©2015 Rachel Carrington

  Cover illustration copyright © 2015 Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

  First Edition

  Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact Rachel Carrington, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

  All characters in this work are purely fictional and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  For those who help renew my spirit on a daily basis—my non-biological family, Debbie, Michelle, and Jennifer. Without you, this journey would be a lot more difficult.

  Chapter One

  I stand over his dead body, staring at the pale, bloated face of Ike Metzger, and I feel nothing, not even the slightest hint of grief or hate. There’s an emptiness inside me as far as this man is concerned, and now that he’s dead, I can breathe again…at least for now. As much as I want to believe this is the end, the note I’d received before Adam and I left town eliminated that hope.

  Adam puts his hand at the small of my back and leans in close to my ear. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Miss Jacobs, can you confirm this is Ike Metzger?” The county coroner, wearing a pair of wrinkled scrubs and a mustache as thick as a dictionary, holds out a clipboard.

  I take one last look at Ike and nod. “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Then if you could just sign here, please, we’ll be all done.”

  When my fingers close around the pen, I realize my hand is shaking, and it won’t cooperate when I try to sign the identification document. I give the coroner an apologetic smile and try again to no avail.

  “Why don’t we walk outside and get some fresh air?” Adam covers my hand with his.

  The coroner releases a heavy sigh without bothering to hide his irritation. “We really need to get this done. Could you just sign the paper, Miss Jacobs?”

  “She needs some air.” Adam’s tone is quietly controlled as he begins leading me to the double swinging doors.

  “It’s just one line. That’s all.” Now the doctor is testy as he follows us to the door.

  My entire body is shaking which I don’t understand. It’s rebelling against me for no reason. Ike Metzger meant nothing to me. He was nothing to me. So why am I trembling so hard?

  Ignoring the coroner, Adam pushes open the door. He takes my hand, and we begin moving down the hall. Footsteps slap on the tile behind us. Dr. Bellows is right on our heels.

  “Miss Jacobs, I really need to get this taken care of as soon as possible. So if you could just…” His voice trails off, and I look up to see why.

  Adam has whirled around and fixed the doctor with a cold look. “Back off.” Just two words, but the threat wrapped around them is enough for the coroner to retreat.

  “He’s just doing his job.” The sunshine is blinding when we exit the building. I search my purse for my sunglasses. “You can’t blame him for wanting this to be over.”

  “I don’t.” Adam removes my sunglasses from the top of my head and puts them on my face. “But you looked like you weren’t on steady ground in there.”

  “I wasn’t. I’m not.” I hold out my hands to show him. “I should have some sense of relief that at least Ike Metzger can’t hurt me anymore. Instead, I feel sick to my stomach.” The cold air chills me from the inside out…at least, that’s what I hope is causing the iciness wrapping itself around my heart.

  “Because you know the threat isn’t over. Even though Ike Metzger is lying on that slab in there, someone is still on the hunt. But look at me.” He takes hold of my arms. “We talked about this. Nothing is going to happen to you, Emily. I won’t let it.”

  I smile because it’s a promise he can’t keep. Neither of us have any way of knowing what we may be facing down the road. Whoever it is might have more power than we can fight. Still, I touch his face with the tips of my fingers and stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

  “Thank you for lying to me.” I brush the lipstick away from his lips, and he catches my fingers.

  His hazel-eyed gaze is hard. “I’m not lying to you, and for all we know, Metzger could have been behind both shootings. Maybe he just didn’t realize his son was in the building when he started shooting.”

  “No. Ike never did his own dirty work. I can see him paying someone for this, but if that’s the case, the trigger person would be long gone once they heard about Ike’s death.” The wind kicks up, sending litter scattering across the asphalt next to our feet. I comb my fingers through my hair to restore some order. “Okay. Let me just get this over with.”

  Adam takes hold of my hand, letting me know silently that he’s right beside me. I squeeze his fingers as a way of saying thank you and return to the coroner’s office.

  The doctor is sitting on a stool in front of his desk and looks up with a scowl on his face when we walk in. “Are you ready to sign now, Miss Jacobs? I can’t begin the autopsy without an identification.”

  His shoulder bumping mine, Adam takes a step forward. “You’re accustomed to dealing with death, Doctor; she isn’t. So how about a little patience?”

  Dr. Bellows clears his throat. Another look at Adam’s face has him caving. “Certainly. I didn’t mean to…my apologies.” He extends the clipboard again and falls silent.

  This time, I manage to sign the paper, and after taking one last look at Ike’s slack face, I pull Adam toward the door. The coroner isn’t the only one who needed this confirmation.

  The house I once shared with Mark sits cold and empty. Or maybe it just feels cold to me. Adam is right on my heels as I move from room to room. It stinks of stale beer and leftover pizza, both of which remind me of Mark. I sense his presence everywhere, especially in the bedroom.

  “You don’t have to come in here.”

  Adam ignores my quiet offer and follows me in anyway. “Do you have a suitcase?” A scowl on his face, he scans the narrow bedroom that barely fits a queen-size bed and a dresser.

  “It’s in the closet. I’ll get it.” The folding door gets stuck as I try to pull it open just like always. I give it a good kick, and the rollers slide back. My hands shake as I yank the suitcase down from the top shelf and toss it on the bed.
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  “Is there anything in the rest of the house you want?” His tone has undergone a change, as though he’s personally offended I would want anything from here.

  “Just a few pictures of my mom and dad. Most of them are on the refrigerator.”

  “I’ll get them.” He strides out of the bedroom.

  I’m not surprised he didn’t want to stay. The thought of me and Mark in here doesn’t bring happy memories for me. I can only imagine what Adam’s thinking. After more shivering, I begin tossing my clothes into the dilapidated suitcase. It’s mostly jeans and tank tops, but there are a few pieces of jewelry I didn’t want to lose.

  The locket my parents had given me for my high school graduation. My class ring. And the diamond earrings Aunt Rita had sent to me just a year ago. I clutch them in the palm of my hand and think about calling her. We haven’t talked in seven months.

  She and I have never been close, but she’s the only family I have now. My father’s older sister, she is a bit rough around the edges, never one to show emotion, and hard as they come. Dad used to say that was because she’d been in an abusive relationship and didn’t have any use for anybody after that. She only wanted to live alone, be alone. She had no way of knowing we had something in common now.

  “You okay?” Adam’s voice in the doorway makes me jump, and the back of the earrings stab my skin.

  I open my fingers to see their shine. “Yeah. Just wallowing in memories. But I’m done here. I left my purse on the table by the front door, but I didn’t see it when we walked in. Mark must have moved it. It has my checking account card.”

  Adam grunts and jerks his head toward the living room. “I’ll make another sweep in here. He probably hid it.” He mutters under his breath and leaves me alone.

  Though the thought is repugnant to me, I tug open the top drawer of the dresser, needing to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d kept hidden from me. Mark’s t-shirts and boxers are rolled in neat, orderly lines, except for the ones at the far back. Something’s pushing them up higher than the rest. Gingerly, I push his under clothes aside, wedging my hand underneath his favorite pair of shorts to search the rest of the wooden interior.

  Something sharp scrapes my wrist, and I jerk back. Irritation has me throwing the clothes out onto the bed. They’d been hiding the watch my mother had given me the same month she died. I thought I’d lost it. I slip it onto my wrist before giving the drawer one last cursory glance. A long, white envelope stuck to the bottom catches my eye.

  I withdraw it. There’s no writing on the front, and it’s not sealed. The paper inside is sharply creased and legal sized. As I scan the words, my breath begins coming in short gasps. I open my mouth to call for Adam, but no sound will come out.

  With my head spinning, I take faltering steps out of the bedroom. Adam meets me in the hallway, and I can only hand him the paper. He reads it quickly then his gaze shoots back to my face.

  “Son-of-a-bitch! You got any idea who would accept the contract?”

  My head shakes in time with my knees. “Anyone who worshipped Mark would do it. The $100,000 would be a bonus. I guess we know why Mark wanted me back in town this time. A closer proximity would have made it real easy for the killer.”

  He’s back to studying the paper. “We’ve got a bigger problem.”

  “Bigger than my ex taking out a hit on me?”

  “Yeah, like now that Mark is dead, there’s no one to call this guy off. If he’s already gotten paid, he’ll do his damnedest to finish the job.”

  “He hasn’t done a very good job of it so far.” Which makes me wonder why he hasn’t taken me out yet. Why shoot at my friends instead of me? A lump forms in the pit of my stomach. “What if this isn’t the only contract, Adam?”

  “Something doesn’t make sense. Why would this hired asshole take out the man paying him?”

  “Maybe Mark just got in the way.”

  “Maybe.” Adam shakes his head. “But I’m not buying it. You ready to get out of here?”

  “Yeah, I think my purse is just going to have to stay lost. Credit cards can be replaced.”

  One hand at the small of my back, Adam picks my suitcase up with the other. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to come back here, Emily.”

  Not the funeral again. I didn’t want to talk about it…or argue about it, rather. The last time I mentioned wanting to come to Mark’s funeral, the clash had both of us saying things that were better left unsaid.

  This time, I remain silent. We have a couple of more days until the funeral which gives us time to confront the issue again. Regardless of Adam’s decision, I would be returning. With Ike gone, too, I can only imagine the shindig Broomtown will put on to honor its fallen heroes, but that wasn’t my reason for needing to be there.

  People talk about closure whenever someone dies or leaves, but I’m not looking to make sense of my relationship with Mark. What I do need to see for myself is the lowering of both coffins. As brutal as that sounds, I had to know neither Mark nor his father would ever be a part of my life again. Then and only then can I deal with the chaos they’ve left behind.

  “Do you need to pick up some clothes from Francine’s house?” Adam points toward the exit sign letting me know we’re less than three miles away from Baby’s Diner.

  I roll my head on the rest to look at him. He’s trying to keep things normal…at least for tonight. So I play along. “That’s assuming I’m spending the night with you.”

  A big grin slides across his face. “Am I wrong?”

  The tingles in the pit of my stomach answer with a resounding no. I give his arm a push and look out the window. “I can’t remember what I have left at your house.”

  “Then we’d better stop to be sure.”

  “Francine will want to know what happened.” I make sure the warning is clear in my voice.

  She’d wanted to come, but Art insisted that he needed her at the diner. In reality, I think having his sister anywhere near Broomtown made him nervous. I can’t blame him for that.

  As Adam pulls his truck around behind the diner, I catch a glimpse of Francine’s face peering out the back window. She’s been waiting for us, and the second he turns off the engine, she comes trotting out the door.

  “I was starting to worry.” She wraps me in a tight embrace then releases me quickly to see my face. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just came to get some clothes.”

  “Oh, hold on a second. You’re not going anywhere until I hear what happened.”

  “Francine,” Adam’s voice, though soft, is laced with steel. “She identified Ike Metzger’s body. There’s really nothing more to tell.”

  She wrinkles her nose and studies him for a long second before transferring her gaze back to my face. “Why don’t I believe either one of you? Something’s going on. Did you see anyone you knew? I mean, did anyone say anything to you?”

  “It wasn’t a social visit.” Now Adam is getting a little surly.

  “You listen here, Mister.” I hear the sound of Francine’s palm smacking against Adam’s skin. “You’re not the only one worried about her so don’t you be acting like you’re the only one who gives a damn.”

  I sigh and walk ahead of them into my bedroom. They continue to squabble like two kids fighting over the last cookie while I sort through my clothes to find something to wear. I can’t remember if I have a shift tomorrow, and just as I’m about to call out to ask Francine, someone knocks on the front door.

  Momentarily silenced, Francine answers the summons. I wander out of the room to satisfy my curiosity to see her standing there with her hands against her chest like someone is threatening her with a rattlesnake.

  Adam quickly pushes her to one side, and I catch a glimpse of Jefferson Winslow, and my heart sinks. He’s the same kid who delivered the last warning note, the one that assured me my life wasn’t fully my own yet. Surprisingly, I walk to toward Adam without trembling.

  “What is it?”

 
He’s holding a sealed, square envelope that he doesn’t immediately hand over to me. “You don’t have to look at this.” Frustration clouds his voice, and I know how badly he wants to find the man hired to kill me. It’s the only way I can have even the slightest hope of moving on. But, for now, the man is a ghost.

  I hold out my hand. “It’s okay.” After what I saw today, a note is nothing.

  “No, it’s not. It’s not even in the vicinity of okay.”

  “I agree with Adam,” Francine mutters, her voice shaky.

  After peeling open the envelope, I pause to take a deep breath before extracting the purple sheet of paper.

  Who knew one person’s death could be worth so much money?

  It’s Ike Metzger’s handwriting again which I know is impossible. I just saw the man lying on a slab at the morgue. But I don’t know how old this note is. It could have been written before Ike’s death, maybe under duress, although, I can’t imagine Ike protesting very badly if he knew the note was meant for me.

  And why would Mark concoct such an elaborate scheme if his only desire was to have me eliminated? Was he thinking he’d be alive to see the torment? Which makes me wonder why he isn’t alive.

  I pass the sheet of paper back to Adam even though he already read the brief line over my shoulder. “I was hoping I’d get some time to breathe.”

  “You will.” Adam jerks his head toward my room. “Get the rest of your things. You’ll be staying with me from here on in.”

  Though I understand his reasoning, I’m not willing to fold like a cheap suit. Not after surviving a relationship with Mark and beginning a new life here. I’m a different person than I was when I first arrived in Juniper Springs, and even if fear is licking at my veins, I’m not going to run. And I’m not hiding.

  Adam must see the mutiny on my face because he starts walking toward my bedroom. “You can stand there then, and I’ll pack for you.”

  “Adam.” My voice is sharper than I intend it to be, but it stops him, and he turns to look at me. “I’m not moving in with you.”