Southern Romantic-Suspense Boxed Set (Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel Book 0)

by Carmen DeSousa

  Chad huffed lightly. Most people wouldn’t consider captivity for almost six months was a good thing, but Cassandra had the ability to turn everything around and looking at the positive. Of course, he knew God hadn’t caused their detour, and he’d learned a lot through the entire ordeal. He knew, indisputably, that he was a better man because of the experience. Cassandra had mentioned once that, Everything works for the good for those who love the Lord. Now he understood what that meant. Even something as tragic as Cassandra taken hostage for six months worked to God’s benefit. Chad had learned to lean on Him more and control his anger.

  Cassandra’s voice pulled him from his thoughts again. “But I do hope to have another boy and then a girl … I can hope, can’t I?”

  “Yes, you can, darlin’, and I will be more than happy to assist you with the making of another child.” He grinned.

  “I was sort of hoping you felt that way.”

  Chad leaned over the bed, careful not to disturb the bundle of blue in his wife’s arms. “Hello, Turner James. You look awfully comfortable.” There was a little grunt from the baby as he nuzzled his mother. “I love you, Cassandra. Thank you for marrying me and providing me with a son. You can’t imagine how completely blissful I feel at this moment.”

  She giggled and closed her eyes, exhausted, but still had a smile for him as always. “Yes, I think I can. I love you too.”

  Entangled Dreams

  (Life isn’t a Fairy Tale)

  Southern Romantic Suspense

  Florida

  Carmen DeSousa

  From the Author

  We live in a world where few people find a happily ever after, even though most of our childhood stories preached that to us. Wait a minute. Did they? I keep hearing … and I’ve been known to write this statement, “I’ve obviously read too many fairy tales …” But when I looked back, the fairy tales weren’t all sunshine and roses. In fact, as I wrote in one of my writing blogs, often the characters in what we tag as fairy tales were beaten, banished, orphaned, poisoned, lost, and on, and on …

  So where does the fairy tale aspect actually play out? Is it when the dashing prince on the white stallion sweeps in and they live happily ever after? Chuh! But hey, the protagonist had to go through many trials to get there. So what’s so bad about that? Personally, I don’t think there’s a problem, except for putting all your dreams in one knight in shining armor who turns out to be a frog. But you can still work at your happily ever after, with or without the prince, right? Though, in my opinion, I think we’re all looking for someone who completes us.

  The fact of the matter is a troubled past helps us appreciate a wonderful present. When we experience trials, we often seek out God and loved ones for support and are that much more thankful when the trial ends. So, I don’t have trouble with fairy tales; that’s why I write them, modern-day fairy tales, that is. I put my characters through trials and tribulations because I know that somewhere, someone can relate. Yes, there’s normally a knight in hidden-armor, who usually requires some polishing before he’s fit to be a prince. But again, isn’t that what great relationships do? They feed off each other to become better partners.

  My husband will often tell people that he is a better person because of me. But you know what, if it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be alive. So together, we will make our happily ever after by filling the weaknesses of each other.

  This is what I write about in all my stories. People who have flaws, but learn to overcome, trust when all else fails so they can love again, and forgive so they can know peace.

  In Entangled Dreams, I tackle these and many other issues head on. So, for my version of a modern-day fairy tale, read on …

  Happy reading,

  Carmen

  Fourteen Years Ago …

  As a child, Alexandra Nicole thought she was a princess in a fairy tale.

  Her royal family would spend every Sunday on the pristine beaches of Destin together. Her father, the king, would carry her on his shoulders, pretending to be her noble steed as he pranced around at her behest. He would battle dragons, the vicious Chihuahua that chased them; conquer new worlds, also known as a sand dune further down the beach; and build elaborate castles, well actually, sandcastles.

  If her father was the king, then her mother was most definitely the queen. She would laugh softly under her umbrella as she watched Alexandra and her father roll in the gentle surf. When her mother did venture into the crystal-clear waters of the Gulf of Mexico, her long platinum hair would blow softly in the breeze, her blue eyes sparkled like the water below her, and her skin glistened from the ever-present sunshine in their lives.

  But alas, as in any good fairy tale, everything good and wonderful must come to an end.

  After the tragic accident that had stolen her mother, her father moved them away from the beaches of Destin to another beach in Florida. Cocoa Beach.

  Cocoa Beach was loud, the water murky, and there were no weekend adventures as there had been in Destin.

  Her father married her evil stepmother, Lilith, whom Alexandra was certain was a witch with her long, black-as-midnight hair and pale white skin as if she’d never seen sunlight. Her father had admitted he wasn’t in love with Cruella, as she’d come to think of the witchy woman, but that he’d wanted Alexandra to have a mother and siblings.

  Well, she definitely got that.

  The king started to stay out later and later at night, and the princess had to do excessive amounts of chores around her new castle. Her stepmother treated her like a pariah; certainly, she’d rather have the dogs at their dinner table. Her stepsisters were ugly inside and out and were forever jealous of Alexandra and her golden blond tresses. Anything nice Alexandra ever received mysteriously disappeared.

  Alexandra knew something was wrong with her father, but she was too young to understand. Her father, forever the happy-go-lucky guy, had turned to drinking to drown his troubles.

  It sounds like your typical fairy tale, but it isn’t. There are no furry creatures to help the princess prepare a gown for the prom, no fairy godmother to wave her magic wand and produce glass slippers. In fact, at age sixteen, Alexandra found herself living on her own with no family contact and no prospects of a healthy, normal life.

  Alexandra had only one advantage if you could call it that. Alexandra was beautiful. But so far, her beauty had not opened any doors; actually, it had only caused her misery.

  The only people who welcomed Alexandra were the outcasts. The parents of other losers in school, fortunately, didn’t care who slept over and what they did when they stayed the night.

  So, Alexandra Nicole, now deciding to go by Nicky, as she was no longer a princess, found herself wandering from house to house throughout her remaining high school years.

  And then she met him …

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nicky pulled into her assigned parking spot, fumbling to grab her ringing cell phone out of her gym bag before the caller hung up. It was probably Jonathan. He’d said he had a ride home from work, but as always, something had surely come up.

  She looked at the caller ID and her eyes filled. “Hello, Lilith,” she choked out.

  Lilith released a long sigh. “Are you at home, Nicky?”

  She swallowed her tears, refusing to let her stepmother hear her cry. Home. Did it matter? She knew there was only one reason Lilith would ever call her.

  “Is Dad —” She couldn’t make her lips continue; he couldn’t be gone.

  “I’m sorry,” Lilith started, and to Nicky’s amazement, she actually sounded sincere. “Your father had an accident last night.” The woman — who should have been a mother to her — paused, allowing the words to sink in, it seemed.

  Nicky clenched the phone in her hand. “He’s okay, then, right?”

  “No, dear, he’s not. He hit a tree, Nicky. But according to the emergency-room doctor, he died instantly.”

  Cruella had said the last words as if they should make her feel better
. Did it matter if he’d died instantly? He was still dead. The only relative she had on this Godforsaken earth was gone. Nicky sucked in a breath. “Thank you for calling, Lilith. I’ll call you later. I have to go.”

  She dropped her head onto the steering wheel of her car and wept. What difference did it make? She and her father had barely spoken in the last six years anyway, ever since she’d moved out of that ridiculous household that he called home. Still, she loved him; he was everything to her. She wished she could have broken through his tough exterior and shown him that she still loved him despite the years of neglect.

  But every time they tried to talk, they fought. He hated her boyfriend, wanted her to move back home, wanted her to do more with her life. As if he could talk. Yeah, her boyfriend was pathetic, but he’d been there for her for the last six years. He would change eventually, he would improve, and then everything would be better in her life.

  Her stomach plunged at the thought of moving from behind the wheel. She didn’t want to go to work; she didn’t even want to get out of the car. She didn’t know how she could possibly endure the evening, but she needed the money. Saturday night was a moneymaker; she couldn’t afford to pass on the couple hundred dollars she could make on a weekend night. Besides, if she didn’t make enough tonight, she wouldn’t be able to pay the rent on Monday.

  Jonathan wasn’t home when she stepped inside their small apartment so he wouldn’t be able to drop her off at work. Good. That meant he wouldn’t be able to forget to pick her up afterward either.

  After attempting to wash away her problems in a steaming-hot shower, she pulled on her short-shorts and tank top, tying it into a knot behind her back, and then brushed her hair up into a ponytail. After dabbing on thick black mascara, she was out the door in minutes.

  As soon as she stepped off the flight of stairs to their apartment, Jonathan jumped out of an old beat-up Chevy Nova. “Hey, Nic! I’m glad I caught you. Joey from work just dropped me off, but I was hoping I could take you to work so I could use the car.”

  Joey from work, she thought internally. She wondered what type of work her boyfriend was doing this week. Not wanting to fight about the car, she sighed. “My dad died last night.” The tears she’d been restraining poured freely. Thankfully, she wore waterproof mascara. Couldn’t work without it.

  He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Oh, Nicky, I’m sorry. Why are you going to work, then?”

  “We need the money.”

  “But …”

  There was nothing else to say. He couldn’t argue with her, and she knew he wouldn’t anyway. They’d been dating for six years, basically, since she was sixteen. Their on-again, off-again relationship was almost comical. Comical to everyone else, that is. She didn’t have that good of a sense of humor.

  They were more like roommates. Her dad was correct; Jonathan was a loser. And unfortunately, he didn’t have many prospects of getting better. She knew she should dump him, but he’d been there for her when nobody else had.

  Nicky followed him to the vehicle, allowing him to drive. After buckling in, she turned to him. “Don’t forget to pick me up, Jonathan. I’ll call you when I start my closing duties, okay? Is your phone charged?”

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the battery. “Yep.”

  “What are your plans?” she asked, knowing they were the usual. Get drunk, get high, and party with his friends, spending money they didn’t have.

  “Nothing much. I just didn’t want to be stuck at home. Could you spare a twenty?”

  She ground her teeth together. “If I give you twenty dollars, I won’t have enough money to make change. You know how pissy they get when we don’t bring a bank.”

  “Please … I’ll pay you back,” he promised.

  No, he wouldn’t. He never paid her back. She dug the money out of her shorts anyway and handed it to him.

  “Thanks, babe!”

  She said nothing the remaining five-minute drive. It wasn’t as though it was far. But why should she have to walk or pay for a taxi when it was her car? She shouldn’t.

  She turned in the seat and glared at him. “I swear … if you don’t answer my call tonight, Jonathan … it’s … I’ll … never let you take the car again,” she sputtered. She wanted to say it was over. Wanted to assure him she would leave for real this time.

  “I won’t forget.” And his voice took on a nasty edge too. She spotted the familiar eye twitch he got whenever she frustrated him. “I keep the Malibu running, you know. That’s worth plenty, don’t you think? If you had to pay a mechanic to keep this piece of crap …” He smashed his foot down on the brakes in front of the entrance. “I’m sorry about your dad, Nicky. I know you loved him, but don’t take out your anger on me. Okay?”

  For a second, Nicky thought he was actually going to show compassion. But as always, he turned everything around so she would feel guilty. She whipped open the door, hopped out, and slammed it behind her, refusing to turn around as he peeled out of the parking lot.

  Instead of letting his callous attitude bother her, she set out to do her job, pushing back the tears, as she’d done her entire life.

  She was barely through the door when the manager announced he’d opened her station and she had guests waiting.

  After grabbing her tray, she darted off in the correct direction. She knew where her station was. It was Saturday, so Gary would have put her upstairs. It was a challenge, but the good thing was … most of her customers wouldn’t sneak to the bar to order their drinks.

  She was fast and she was the best. She could remember fourteen drinks because that was the amount she could carry on her tray and in her hand. While other cocktail waitresses spent the evening flirting their way to larger tips, Nicky increased her sales, which augmented her tips. After all, fifteen percent of zero was zero.

  The night started out so busy that she hardly had a moment to lament over her mother, her father, or her worthless boyfriend. As the evening progressed, though, belligerent customers she’d normally ignore started irritating her. One group, in particular, was getting on her last nerve. If that schmuck called her toots one more time, she might just throw her tray at him.

  “Hey, toots, you forgot my beer!” the obnoxious loser bellowed.

  Nicky inhaled a deep breath, attempting to control her emotions. “You didn’t order a beer, sir. I asked if anyone wanted anything, and you said, no. Would you like another beer?” Without a doubt, the man was attractive, but he knew it, too. She hated men like him who thought they could do anything they wanted, get anything they wanted. He had money too. His clothes, his watch. Everything about the man exuded arrogance.

  He leaned in, exhaling a stream of smoke in her face. “Maybe I’ll just go to the bar. Though, I do enjoy watching you saunter up and down the stairs. You have some mighty fine legs, toots.”

  “Lay off, Brad,” a nice-looking gentleman sitting on the other side of the table said. “Give the lady a break, will ya?”

  Stunned, Nicky gawked at the gentleman, who before now hadn’t uttered a word the entire night other than, “Water, please.”

  Brad-guy layered his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. “What kind of break would you like, lady? I’d be happy to oblige. We could —”

  She’d reached her limit. She couldn’t take anymore. She slammed down her tray, turned on her heel, and headed for the stairs. The tears escaped again. Why had she thought she could work? Just because she hadn’t been close to her father in the last fourteen years didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She loved him more than any other person on earth. He was all she had.

  Trudging up to Gary, she handed him her checks and informed him she had to leave. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, but was obviously so taken aback he couldn’t speak. Gary knew she was reliable … knew that if she were leaving, there had to be a rational explanation. But she didn’t have the energy to explain without breaking down in front of him, and
he definitely didn’t have time for that. Seeming to understand, he accepted her checks and apron full of money, minus a twenty she’d pulled out in case she had to call a taxi.

  “My tips are in there. I don’t have time to cash-out. Will you take care of it and put my money in the safe? I have to go.” With that, she charged toward the exit. She had to get out of there before she broke into tears.

  She pulled out her cell and called Jonathan, knowing he wouldn’t answer. Unfortunately, she’d been right.

  Sitting on the curb, her arms wrapped around her knees, she attempted to impede the tears. What good would they do anyway? Crying never solved anything. What was done was done; all the crying in the world would never alter her circumstances. Only she could transform her worthless existence.

  She sat on the cold concrete, waiting for a return call that never came. This was it; they were over. Never would she allow a man to take hold of her life and use it when he wanted. From now on, she’d take what she wanted. As soon as she saved enough money, she’d escape Jonathan and the rotten life she’d somehow ended up living.

  The door opened, and Nicky instinctively looked up, but remembering her tears, lowered her head. Her eyes were surely bloodshot and swollen. The guy from her table, the nice one, cast a glance in her direction but then walked off toward the parking lot.

  A few seconds later, he appeared in front of her again. Only, this time, he was sitting on a motorcycle. “I apologize about my coworker.” He shook his head as though it were his fault that Brad-guy was a moron. “Brad’s an idiot even when he doesn’t have a few beers in him.”

  Nicky looked the man over; he looked like a nice guy. “I don’t suppose you could give me a ride, could you?” she asked, shocked she would even think of such a prospect.

  Motorcycle-guy looked bewildered, too. “Uh, sure. You can wear my helmet, I suppose.”