Jewels and Panties (Book, Seven): Dark Diary

by Brooke Kinsley

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Dark Diary

  Jewels And Panties Series

  Book Seven

  Brooke Kinsley

  © 2017 All Rights Reserved

  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 non-commercial uses per 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.

  "Erotica is literature designed to be read with one hand...”-Brooke Kinsley

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  Contents

  Description

  Chapter One ETTA

  Chapter Two LINCOLN

  Chapter Three ETTA

  Chapter Four LINCOLN

  Chapter Five ETTA

  Chapter Six LINCOLN

  Chapter Seven ETTA

  Chapter Eight LINCOLN

  Chapter Nine ETTA

  Chapter Ten LINCOLN

  Chapter Eleven ETTA

  Chapter Twelve LINCOLN

  About The Author

  Description

  ETTA

  We’re together at last with nothing to worry about and no one to get in our way.

  Finally, I can lie in his arms and know we’re safe.

  When he suggests we get away from everything and go on vacation to Italy, I’m so happy I think I’ll explode.

  We can finally relax and have fun just like a normal couple!

  With his private jet online minutes away, I can barely contain my excitement.

  But then something catches his eye on the way to the airport and it looks like we’re about to make an unscheduled stop.

  One that takes us right back to where we started.

  LINCOLN

  All I’ve ever wanted was to make her happy.

  I’m going to take her to Venice, the most beautiful city in the world!

  We’ll dine beneath the stars and make love until the sun rises.

  With my private jet waiting for us and nothing to get in our way, I’ve never been happier.

  But then an offer comes my way and I find I can’t say no, especially when it can help me put all my wrongs to right.

  Then I discover Phaedra’s mysterious diaries and find something I wasn’t expecting: a familiar name, an evil request, evidence I can’t ignore.

  Chapter One

  ETTA

  It was the first time I hadn't seen Broadwood in the rain. The sky was a vast stretch of pristine blue sky with only a few wisps of pearlescent cloud floating overhead.

  I kept my gaze skyward to stop myself looking at the faces in front of me.

  "Are you okay?" Lincoln whispered in my ear.

  "Fine," I lied.

  He placed a hand on the small of my back, a silent symbol that he was there for me.

  "It'll be okay," he said.

  "It doesn't feel like it."

  I finally looked down and took his hand in mine. Where his wrist met the cuff of his shirt, I could make out the faint, purple line of scar tissue from where the rope burned into him. It was healing well but I didn't know if his mind was.

  Since being captured, there had been an immediate change in him. He had to relinquish his power. Something that I could tell hurt him to his core.

  But there was something else too. Since then there had been a haunted look in his eyes. Even now, as he gazed over my shoulder at the congregation in front of us, it looked as though he wasn't really here. He was disappearing inside himself. I just hoped I could bring him back out. Save him. Share the pain with him.

  I squeezed his hand tighter and he kissed my cheek as we looked at the back of people's heads as they looked down at the open grave.

  Phaedra's white coffin was being lowered into it. It looked so small. Almost like a child's.

  Glancing around at all the unfamiliar faces, I was surprised by how many people had turned up to say goodbye. Despite the rumors, she was central to the neighborhood and at some point in time, she had genuinely helped girls get back on their feet.

  One person I did recognize by the crimson hair was Katy. Now, in her black dress and sensible shoes, she looked ten years older than the last time I saw her. She wiped a tear from her cheek and looked up. Our eyes met and I glanced away.

  I didn't want to be noticed. I just wanted to fade away.

  The truth was I didn't even want to be here but some part of us thought we had to say goodbye. Even if that part of us was also raging mad.

  Somewhere beyond the crowd, a priest mumbled his prayers and condolences but I didn't want to listen. Instead, I studied the faces of everyone around us. Across the grave, an old woman with stylishly blow dried silver hair and a black veil pulled across her face dabbed at her eyes. I couldn't help but notice that no matter how many times she pressed the tissue to her face her makeup was immaculate.

  She didn't look like someone who once lived in the house and her clothes, her demeanor, her sense of superiority told me that she wasn't a cop or a social worker either.

  "Do you think she's family?" asked Lincoln.

  I tensed up.

  "You've been staring right at her," he whispered. "I have to admit she's a bit conspicuous, ain't she? I think she took acting lessons before she turned up."

  I watched her for a moment longer and realized there were no tears. Only the intact white tissue held between her manicured fingers.

  "She better get a refund from her acting coach," I replied, looking down at the ground. "Her waterworks aren't fooling anyone."

  "Shhh!"

  A woman in front turned round and pressed her finger to her lips. I mumbled an apology and remained silent.

  After the priest said his final prayer, people began to walk up to her grave one by one. Some people said a final farewell and shed a last tear while others merely nodded and murmured before hurrying away.

  We waited until everyone had left before venturing up to the graveside.

  Looking down into the hole, it was hard to believe that she was in there. The last time I saw her she
was a living, breathing, ferocious woman who was hellbent on revenge. The last time I saw her she had eyes that were ablaze and a gun in her hand. Now I was just looking at a white box with flowers and trinkets scattered on top.

  There were roses, prayer cards, mementos from some of the girls; cuddly toys and a piece of jewelry.

  "What's the custom?" I asked. "Do I pick up a handful of mud and throw it down like they do in the movies?"

  Lincoln shrugged.

  "I never was good at these things."

  We just stared at the coffin some more.

  "At least there are no reporters are here," observed Lincoln.

  I scanned my eyes through the trees and couldn't see anyone but the old woman with the veil. She had ceased crying and was now watching us from a safe distance.

  "We have company," I said.

  Lincoln looked up.

  "Shit, she's coming over."

  Although she was much older than Phaedra, she was fit and nimble and made light work of the distance between us.

  "I saw you earlier," she said as she approached, her voice clipped and without any noticeable accent.

  She thrust her hand into mine and shook it until I could feel her bony knuckles protrude into my palm.

  "I'm Stephanie," she said.

  "Nice to meet you, Stephanie," I said. "This is my boyfriend Lincoln."

  He gave her a polite nod.

  "Have we met before?” he asked.“There's something familiar about you."

  There was something familiar about her. A look in her eyes perhaps or the way she carried herself. She coughed and pressed the tissue to her lips.

  "Oh, no," she spluttered. "We've not met before. Although I assume you both knew my sister."

  She nodded to the grave beside us.

  "You're... You're Phaedra's sister?"

  She pursed her lips and blinked as if to suggest she was on the brink of crying, but like before, there were no tears.

  “Yes. Although I dare say we weren’t exactly close at the end.”

  Her eyes stared off into the distance, focused only on a memory.

  “Were you close to her?” she asked, still watching the leaves rustle in the faraway trees.

  “Knew her for many years,” said Lincoln, his head lowered with a look of something I couldn’t quite identify. Shame? Regret?

  It was then the old woman’s face changed from one of false grief to a look of girlish giddiness.

  “Ooh, you must be Dr. Bosworth!” she cooed with stars in her eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice you earlier. As you can imagine I’ve been preoccupied.”

  “That’s quite alright. I like to keep a low profile at the best of times.”

  Her eyes were dewy and glistening, not with tears, but the thrill of meeting him. It was the same look I gave him every morning.

  “Phaedra spoke a lot about you,” she gushed. “Told me wonderful things!”

  “She did?”

  “Said you were a great asset to the house and how the girls adored you.”

  Stephanie took Lincoln’s hand in hers and stared up doe eyed.

  “You know, I used to take my grandchildren over there when they were small. They loved the house with all its nooks and mysteries.”

  “It certainly was a house of mysteries,” he replied.

  “Most mysterious!” she laughed. “There was always a new thing to find. Is it still the same?”

  Lincoln and I shared an awkward glance and looked away.

  “It’s, erm, still a busy place,” he said at last and pulled his hand away. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your family.”

  The old lady stayed put.

  We both stared at her, willing her to leave so we could step away from the graveside and get on with our lives.

  For a second, she jerked as though she was about to turn on her heel but then jolted to a stop and furrowed her brow.

  “Tell me, does she still… I mean did she still keep all of her diaries? When we were teenagers she used to have volumes of them all lining the walls. It was a peculiar habit of hers, don’t you think? She just loved to write stuff down.”

  “She took notes of everything,” I said.

  Her frown deepened so that the thick layer of powder across her skin began to crease. Her lipstick feathering as she pulled her lips into a grimace.

  “How… sweet,” she said with no trace of sweetness in her voice. “Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry it was under such miserable circumstances.”

  She pecked us both on the cheek, the bristles of her facial hair scratching my face. Then she slipped away into the trees.

  “Weird woman,” I said.

  “The weirdest,” replied Lincoln.

  I reached out to hold his hand and saw the hairs on his arm were sticking up on end.

  Chapter Two

  LINCOLN

  "Finally!You’ve no idea how long I've been waiting to do this."

  At last, we were back home with no drama surrounding us, no places to be. All we had was the moment and the feeling of being in each other's arms.

  I pulled the covers up over us wanting to cocoon us in our own private safe space, a place where no one could touch us. Nuzzling into her neck, I pulled her closer and felt the warmth of her bare breasts against me. reaching a hand down, I held them gently.

  "This is all I ever wanted," she said, running her hand through my hair. "Just to touch you. Be with you."

  There was a wobble to her voice. A quiver in her body.

  No doubt her mind was wandering to all the things that had happened, the things that had nearly destroyed us. Now, with nothing but the future ahead of us, it was hard to imagine that we were finally safe.

  "Is it over?" she asked, unable to believe it.

  "Yes. I'm sure it is."

  I pressed my lips to hers to show I meant it.

  "It's just you and me and whatever we want to do. We have all the freedom in the world now. We can go wherever you want."

  I rolled on top of her. Not just to feel the space between her legs but to protect her, to feel her beneath me where I could keep her safe.

  "We can go anywhere," she repeated. "I've never really been anywhere at all."

  Her eyes met mine. I traced a finger down the side of her cheek and couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Somehow, she'd emerged from everything even more stunning than before. And I knew why. It was because she was like me now. She was a killer. We were equal.

  "Where would you like to go?" I asked.

  She gazed up at the ceiling in thought and sucked on her teeth.

  "Venice," she said. "I've always wanted to go to Venice. It's supposed to be the most beautiful place in the world."

  "It is," I said. "Let's go. Today. Right now."

  "What? Like... now?"

  "Yes, like now! Let's go!"

  Her eyes were glittering.

  "Can we really do that?"

  "My jet can get us there in ten hours. What do you say?"

  "Are you serious?"

  "Damn right I’m serious. We need to get the hell out of here. Enjoy ourselves like all other young couples do. We've not been able to do all the corny, romantic stuff everyone else does. We could just be normal for once. Hold hands as we stroll beneath a sunset, have dinner outside, share a bottle of wine and get tipsy before stumbling up to the hotel room. We could walk for hours, see the sights. Just be tourists. Just be normal!"

  "I want to be normal," she said. "Like a regular couple."

  "Then, let's go!"

  "You mean it? Really? We can just leave. Just go."

  "Yes!"

  She threw her arms around my neck and toppled me down on top of her.

  "Can we have one of those vacations where we never leave the hotel room?" she whispered.

  I answered her with a hand on her thigh. Sliding it up, I felt her softness. She let out a gasp, her whole body moving like a wave against me.

  She turned my face to her
s and kissed me hard as she opened her legs. I eased myself inside her, felt the way she shuddered slightly as she felt my length.

  "I love you," she said, her voice hot on my neck as she coiled her legs around my back.

  "Fuck… I love you so much."

  I wrapped my arms around her as though I was holding on for life. Don't ever leave me, I thought. We're too perfect together. There could never be anyone like you.

  She raised her hips to meet mine, threw her head back and pushed her nails into my shoulder. We were both getting close, both feeling the surge of bliss move through us. But it wasn't just the sex. It was the desperation of wanting to be so close after waiting for so long. It was the overwhelming feeling that we needed to be so close we were consuming each other. It was the sensation of loving someone so much you wanted to fuse yourself to them, to never let them go, to never miss a blink, a heartbeat, a breath...

  I slowed down, wanting the moment to last forever and she gave out a moan as her fingers wound themselves around mine.

  "Shhh..."

  Brushing the hair from her eyes, I hovered my lips above hers, feeling the sweetness of her breath tingle on my skin. Then I thrust inside her hard, just the once.

  An animalistic yelp escaped from her mouth as her eyes rolled back into her head.

  "Do it again," she begged. "Do it hard."

  I waited. Then waited some more, feeling her grow even wetter around me. She began writhing against me, her hips rocking back and forth.

  "Shhh... Slow down."

  I pushed her body back down into the bed and kept her waiting.

  "You're torturing me," she whispered.

  "Do you like it?"

  "I love it."

  I thrust into her again, harder. Then pulled out completely leaving her shaking, angry and unbearably aroused.

  "Bastard," she laughed. "I'll get you back."