“You will come and stay with me and Matthew.” She holds her hand in the air, cutting off my inevitable protest. “Stop, I won’t hear anything about it. I am doing this for you, and you are going to let me. I am just so sorry this is happening.”
The remainder of the ride is silent. The sound of my pounding heart and my racing pulse drown out Olivia and the rest of the city.
Me
If I give you – those pieces of me
Would you care – for us like me
And think the world – belongs to me
I’d leave no corner – unearthed by me
To give the love – that resides in me
~ Darcy
Watch for more Rhys and Sophie April 2015 in the final installment of The Voice Trilogy: SHOUT
The Voice Trilogy:
WHISPER
SPEAK
SHOUT (coming 4/15)
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Nellie's Naughy Nymphs
As an independently published author, I know just how important it is to get your work seen and to catch people’s attention in any way possible. I have had the great pleasure of meeting some amazing people this last year. Authors that have inspired me and fellow writers who are just waiting for their turn to press that “Publish” button. Nobody makes it alone in this industry and I, for one, would love nothing more than to offer to share my little soapbox with people I respect and am rooting for. I am proud and honored to share my pages with three such people.
Thank you to the Poet Darcy for sharing your heartfelt words that mirror Rhys and Sophie’s struggle so perfectly in my eyes.
The following pages contain excerpts from the upcoming works of two incredibly talented women that I am lucky enough to count amongst my friends. Their work will capture your imagination and leave you wanting more.
Thank you to Author JL Sins and Alexandria Sure for allowing me to share your work.
Please enjoy and watch these women rise!
Saving Alexia
Copywrite JL Sins
An excerpt
Preface
10 years earlier
November 2002
“Hello?” I ask answering my cell phone.
“Is this Alexia Kincaid?” the man on the other end of the phone inquires.
“It is. May I ask who’s calling?”
“I’m sorry, this is Sergeant Riley Tanner. I’m with the Houston Police Department.”
Police, why would the police department be calling me? “What’s this about Sergeant?”
“When was the last time you spoke with your parents?” Sergeant Tanner asks me.
“A few days ago, why? What’s going on? Did something happen to Ava?” I’m almost in a panic.
“Ms. Kincaid, I hate doing this over the phone, but there’s been an accident at your parents home. Shit, I don’t want to tell you this... it looks like a murder has taken place. We’ve been here for about 45 minutes or so. Your sister, Ava, wasn’t home at the time, and it doesn’t appear that your home has been broken into at all,” Sergeant Tanner explains.
I’m silent, because I’m in complete shock. How could something like this happen? This is the type of shit you see on the news in New York or California, not Houston, and certainly not The River Oaks area. I can’t believe this is happening. I think I’m quiet for far too long, because the Sergeant interrupts my thoughts.
“Ms. Kincaid, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I just can’t believe that this has happened...I’m in the middle of driving back from Austin, to visit for the Thanksgiving holiday. You’re sure Ava wasn’t in the house at the time?” I question as I pull over to a rest stop. I’m still in shock over the news and I need to not be driving at the moment.
“I know this is a major shock, we are working on this as quickly as we can. Your sister is with one of the neighbors at the moment. Again, I know that you’re in the middle of driving here, but how long do you think you’re going to be, because we need to figure this out,” Sergeant Tanner explains to me.
“So, you’re going to figure this out before I even get there? So you’ll have better answers?” I ask rather harshly.
“No ma’am, it’s just well, we have some very time sensitive issues to handle. The scene is extremely gruesome and I want to make sure I’m here before you walk in,” he almost whispers.
“Sergeant, I’m just now passing Huntsville. I would say it’ll be at least another hour or so with the traffic.”
“Okay, that’s fine. However, I do need to ask a couple of questions before you get here, is it okay if I ask you now?” his voice hopeful and sincere.
“I guess, I mean I don’t know how much help I’m going to be since I live in Austin and go to UT full time,” I clarify to him.
“Trust me, you’ll be more help than you know.”
I think to myself, why is that? What the hell is really going on? My father the District Attorney in Houston, Alexander Kincaid, and my mother, Angelina Kincaid, have been murdered, and for some reason this cop seems to think I can help. Yeah I can help...who the hell did this? Then it hits me…
“Are my mother’s rings missing?” I blurt out, trying to stop my tears that I didn’t even realize I had and get back onto I-45.
“Rings? I’m not sure, I’m going to have to ask my partner. Anything else I should be looking for?” Riley grills me.
“I know of two wall safes. One of them is in the panic room behind my mother’s closet and the other is in my dad’s office behind our family portrait above the fire place.”
I can hear him barking orders in the background. I’m not really able to make out what he’s saying, but I can tell he’s in a hurry and he sounds pissed off at whomever he’s talking to. So while I’m driving as fast as my Audi is able to go, without breaking too many laws, I just listen on speaker phone. I’m in a daze, and something doesn’t feel right about this at all. I know my father tried to shield us from the ugly side of his job, but unfortunately we saw some of it. I know I saw my share while growing up. I never knew if my mother really loved my father or if she was only with him for the money, because it was very well known in the area that we were considerably wealthy. We lived in one of the biggest homes in the River Oaks Area, of Houston, Texas. So it wasn’t like people didn’t know who we were. At times it’s hard to trust people who only wanted to get close to you for being a Kincaid.
“Sorry about all of that. What we are going to do is wait for you. Please drive safe and we will see you soon,” Sergeant Tanner says and hangs up.
I wanted to call Ava, to check on her, but I didn’t want to worry her too much, after all she’s only 12 years old, and our parents have been killed. Her whole world is going to crumble down on her any second. So I didn’t call her. I drive in complete silence to my home in Houston.
Once I pulled into the long drive way, there had to be at least 40 cop cars sitting there, if not more. I was flagged down before I even had the car in park. I could even see a few news crews waiting outside of the gates. I put my car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. I greeted the officer that was flagging me down.
“Miss, you can’t be here, there’s a police investigation going on. You’ll just have to turn around and wait outside of the gates to get your story, like everyone else,” he assertively barks at me.
“I’m not with the news crew. This is my family home. I’m Ms. Kincaid,” I assure him as nicely as I can, considering the situation. “Could you pl
ease ask for Sergeant Tanner to come down here? I just drove in from Austin.”
He turned away from me and spoke into his left shoulder, “Get Tanner, he has a visitor, it’s Ms. Kincaid.”
I go back to my car and wait. I watch what’s going on, it doesn’t seem real, and it hasn’t hit me yet. I know that once it does, it’ll be catastrophic. I feel completely numb, like this isn’t happening. I put my hand on my steering wheel and lean my head down while taking deep breaths. I repeat over and over just breathe, just breathe, just breathe…I’m feeling tightness in my chest that won’t go away.
It feels as if I’ve been sitting here for hours when a soft knock on my driver side window startles me. I quickly look over and see a tall, attractive man standing there with a somber expression, I assume this is Sergeant Tanner. Here goes nothing… I think to myself while opening the door.
August 2012
Ten years later…
Out of all days this has to be, by far, one of the worst. A lot has been going on, I've finally been able to start and open the talent/marketing agency. I know I've earned the reputation of a cold hearted bitch that won't stop at anything to get what I want. Well, some of it’s true. It's a man’s world and I'm not sleeping my way to the top in my own company. I, Alexia Kincaid, had better things to do than to listen to some dickless jackass tell me how things are going to happen. Oh, you don’t know do you? This is a man’s world.
So, when I receive a call from the FBI saying that they believe that my parents were in fact murdered and not the whole BS story of a murder/suicide, I sit up straighter in my chair and listen to the agent on the other end.
"Ms. Kincaid, this is Agent Adam Chase. I was wondering if we could possibly meet up. We believe to have more information in regards to your parents’ death," he states.
I sit in shock. My first reaction is to yell at him and hang up, because this shit was never going to end no matter what I did. I’m instantly taken to that dark day in the back of my mind. The day that I swore I never ever wanted to remember. It's been almost ten years since this had happened, and a lot has changed. I sold the house and all of its contents, because it was tainted with horrible memories, from my childhood and of that night. I didn't want to bring that shit up again. No matter what I did.
It was hard enough to have the press and half of Houston, believe that you had your parents offed because you’re the spoiled rich girl of the city's District Attorney, and didn't get your way. If they only knew the half of it. To be questioned repeatedly, in the next room, where you are able to see the blood stains and your father’s foot, wasn't stressful enough. Nope not at all.
"You believe or are you just harassing me once again? I've already given my statement over and over. So if you'd like, I can give you the number to my attorney, who would be more than happy to answer any questions for you in regards to this horrible situation, “I say tersely.
"No, it's not to interrogate you at all. I've been added to the cold cases and just have a couple of questions about your parents, not about your whereabouts on the day in question ma’am," Agent Chase calmly confirms.
"Oh okay, I'm currently in my office, would you like to meet here or would you like for me to come to you?" I ask trying to be somewhat polite. My mother always told me that you'll get more flies with honey than you will with vinegar.
"Ms. Kincaid, if it’s possible can I just come to you?"
"Sure, that's fine agent. Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address."
Once I tell him the address, I hang up and wait for the Agent to come to my office. I'm trying to get work done, trying to put this as far as possible in the back of my mind. Of course, no amount of emails will keep me from thinking about what had happened. I have to stop this; I'm never going to shake this horrible feeling. I take a deep breath, stand up, and walk over to the wall of windows looking out over the heart of downtown Houston.
I look out and down the sidewalk and see how little everyone is, and not a one knows that the Alexia Kincaid is 30 stories above them. So I can pretend that I'm normal, just like everyone else. I start getting that sinking feeling, so I take a step back while taking a deep breath. Heading to the couch, I grab a bottle of water and sit down, while thinking back to that horrible night in question.
- I looked up at the officer after I stepped out of the car. He's a tall very attractive man, hazel eyes that looked almost green, and dark brown hair. In that normal detective uniform, white button down dress shirt, with black dress pants and black dress shoes. He’s not wearing a tie and the top two buttons were opened. He had to be at least 6 foot or more, because I had to look up at him. He looked tired; you know that look that all cops have. Like the last crime scene wasn't as bad as this one. He took a deep breath and looked down at me with a little bit of anger and sadness. I think the anger was out weighing the sadness, at that moment, for whatever reason.
"Ms. Kincaid, I'm Sergeant Riley Tanner, as you can tell a horrible crime has happened here and we are still trying to figure out what's going on. Do you mind answering a few questions?" He asked, trying to be hopeful.
I just looked up at him, wondering what answers I could possibly have. I hadn't spoken to my father in weeks, and my mother, it'd been at least a week. I just nodded at him while looking at him wide eyed. Still in shock from his call 45 minutes ago.
"Could we please do this elsewhere? No telling what type of technology the press has," I whispered.
We both turned our heads and looked down the long driveway and saw all of the news anchors for the evening news, in fact a couple could be for a major network or two. I can't believe people don't have anything else better to do than to drag my family through the mud. I took a deep breath, held it in and exhaled. I looked up at Sergeant Tanner, he shook his head slowly and mumbled something under his breath. I thought he had said ‘un-fucking believable’.
"Do you mind if we go inside?” Riley requested, “I know it’s the last place you want to be, considering what has happened, but it would be easier than going down to the station.”
"Sure, I'll just follow you since you know where they are," I murmured.
We turned and made our way up to my parents’ home. 15,000 square feet of museum quality furniture; yes, the house was beautiful because my mother wouldn't have it any other way. It was just her taste is a bit much. I guess she felt the need to have materialistic things since she had grown up poor. Besides, to me it never felt like a home, just a place to sleep and store all of my possessions that I just had to have. I loved the mansion; it’s just what it represented to me. It screamed, ‘look at me, look at what I have and what you don’t’, and because of it, I grew up with people thinking I was a spoiled rich girl that got everything I ever wanted. So very little did the outside world know.
Once inside the doors at the grand entry, the police were mulling around, some talked to each other, and some just watched and waited for the right possible moment to be called upon. There had to be at least 40 people in here. Not that the room couldn’t accommodate that many people.
"Do you think she really did it? I mean she was in Austin after all, right?"
"I heard the old lady was whoring around on Kincaid and had been sick of it being rubbed in his face."
“It could have been one of Kincaid’s whores, sick of being in second place with the old lady.”
I stood shocked hearing this. I couldn’t believe it, were these people actually saying this with my parents not even 30 feet away? I looked up when Sergeant Tanner slammed the door, and started yelling. "Are you fucking kidding me with this shit right now? You’re really going to stand there saying that shit?" Sergeant Tanner looked like he was ready to hit something, to dig it home to the two talking assholes. “Ladies and gentleman, I'd like for you to meet Ms. Alexia Kincaid," he announces to them rather harshly; even his eyes were narrowed down to mere slits.
After what the good Sergeant said, all movement stopped, people looked up and stared at the commotion that had b
een going in the room. I looked at the small group before me with wide eyes, and you could almost hear a pin drop. I tried so hard not to start crying. I knew something like this would happen. I looked up at Sergeant Tanner before I responded, and took in a deep breath.
"Since you like to make jokes and trash talk my family, I want you to get the FUCK out of my house. Please leave your badge number on your way out and expect a call from my lawyer. Oh, while you’re at it, make sure to start looking for a new job. However, I really doubt anyone is going to hire either of you after this hits the national news," I sneered at all of them. I turned on my heel in the direction of the library. I was so shaken, and so pissed that I had unchecked tears rolling down my face. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me around, and I stumbled into Sergeant Tanner’s chest. I got my balance somewhat and looked up at him.
"What the hell is your problem? Why did you just grab me like that?" I shout as more tears stream down my cheeks.
"Ms. Kincaid I think it would be a good idea for us to go into another room. That's where the crimes took place," he pleaded softly to me.
We went into the room my mother called the formal living room. To me it was a room that no one ever went into unless it was a client my father was trying to impress. The room had dark wood walls, with red and gold draperies, a marble fireplace with a marble mantle. It had a white and gold couch with two matching wing chairs. It also had some chase lounge thing that Cleopatra would have sat on. That same dark wood was used for the coffee table and side tables. The side table held two beautiful Tiffany style lamps. What made this room look so stunning was the very large hand loomed Oriental rug, the detailing was breathtakingly beautiful. For some reason all I could think of at that moment was that I hoped the rug didn’t get stained with blood. Yeah dead parents and all I could think about was a very expensive rug.
Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) Page 17