Copyright © 2017 by Ahren Sanders
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 noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.
Editing: Kendra Gaither at Kendra’s Editing and Book Services
Cover Photo: David Wagner, David Wagner Photography
Cover Model: Kevin Caliber
Cover Design: Melissa Gill @MG BookCovers and Designs
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Copyright Page
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Meet The Author
More Books By Ahren Sanders
Prologue
Emi
“You fucking JERK! How could you do this to me?” Maren screams, the sound bouncing off her walls and ricocheting around the room.
“Baby, don’t be like that. She was nothing to me. It was a mishap,” Carlton, otherwise known as the douche-tool, limp-dick, ass-mongling, dickhead, pleads his case in his cocky, slimy, smarmy tone, making me want to scratch his eyes out.
I try to peek through the slats of Maren’s pantry door to see his face, but his back is facing me.
“Mishap! You call fucking your father’s secretary for the last few months a MISHAP?”
“Sweetie, it was a lapse in judgment. She kept coming after me and caught me when I was vulnerable. I regret it immensely. You know I love you. We’re getting married. Don’t let this ruin us. Think of all the wonderful memories we’ve built.”
I wait, barely able to make out Maren’s chest heaving as she takes a few deep breaths. She squeezes her fist tight and props it on her hip as a sign to me that she’s ready.
Here we go!
“Wonderful memories? You call years of being the town dumbass a wonderful memory? I didn’t want to believe it, but the signs were there, so I decided it was time to smarten up. You know what I discovered? I discovered that my loving and caring fiancé has the most generous dick in the city, spreading the joy around to anyone who would take it.”
His body stiffens, turning slightly so I can finally see his profile.
He’s dressed in his high dollar business suit, looking every bit the pretentious asshole he is. Cufflinks shine with his initials, as does a tie pin with a matching monogram. His uptight attitude starts to waver as he stares, eyes narrowed, at my best friend. It’s apparent when realization starts to sink in. He shifts uncomfortably, then steps closer, closing in on her. She shoots him an evil glare and side steps.
I lean in, holding my breath to watch the rest of the show unfold. So far, Maren has stuck to our plan, standing strong and not backing down. After Saturday’s discovery, she is ready to slay him.
“Oh, yeah, Carl. I know about them all.”
I fist pump in the air with a silent HELL YEAH at the use of the name Carl. He hates it worse than having mud on his precious Jaguar.
“Your daddy’s secretary isn’t the only one I know about. My Pilates instructor, your weekly masseuse, the pharmacist at CVS, the nurse who helps your grandma, and let’s not forget the young, starry-eyed server at your parents’ party last Saturday. Do you really think I didn’t see you disappear in Miss Ware’s bedroom with that girl? Poor woman has no idea that, while she was working her ass off to make sure your dad’s birthday was perfect, you were getting a blowjob in her room!!!”
I cringe at the memory of being stuck in the closet that night. I witnessed him flirting with her all evening and then quietly telling her to meet him in the housekeeper’s room after the champagne toast. I snuck in and waited, knowing Maren was already through with him, but this was an insurance policy. She would now have leverage if there were any backlash with his family and friends. I have to hand it to him—he’s sly, and there was no telling how he’d spin their breakup.
So, I was stuck in the closet snapping pictures as he convinced that girl to drop to her knees. The image replays in my head, and I fight back a gag. Watching Carlton in action as she tried to deep throat him was gross. He just doesn’t have the equipment.
“What the fuck?” he hisses, crossing his arms defensively. “You want to go there, Maren? I haven’t had a blowjob from you in forever. She was dying for it. As a matter of fact, you haven’t given me any kind of sex for months. This idea we needed to wait until we are married came out of left field. What’d you expect me to do when you cut me off cold turkey? I have needs, and you aren’t there to fulfill them, so take the hit. This is your fault.”
Wait for it… wait for it…
He’s so smug and proud of himself, he never sees her hand coming. The sound of the slap cuts through the air, and his head jerks to the side where I get a full-on view of his shock.
Satisfaction and pride surge through me as a wicked grin crosses her lips and her eyes start to gleam.
“You bitch!”
“I’m not taking the blame for this one. You want to know why I put a moratorium on our sex life? This is a big city, but a small town. Your little tryst with the secretary gave you syphilis. You may have wanted to be discreet, but I found the antibiotics in your car.”
He pales, understanding washing over his face. Tears start to prickle, and my throat tingles as I try to hold in my laugh.
“It didn’t take long for word to spread. Why do you think you’ve been cut off by everyone, except, of course, the one woman who already had a venereal disease?”
“Are you done? You’ve had your childish fit and made your point. The secretary is history. Say the word, and she’s gone.”
“Nope, I’m not even close to being done. By the time I get through with you, you’ll have to travel three counties to get laid, not to mention the wreckage in your path. What’s your mom going to do when I blow the lid off the biggest wedding of the year?”
He rubs his cheek where the red mark from her palm is still glowing, but instead of taking his lick, he decides to get cocky. “Maren, stop being so rebellious. I may have had some fun on the side, but even you aren’t going to let that stop you from marrying me. I’m the best thing that’s happened to you. What will you do without me?”
I was afraid of this. He’s a master at tearing down her self-confidence, but hopefully, my days of coaching her will pull through and she can remain strong.
“What I’ll do without you is exactly what I should have been doing all along. Exactly what I want. Being a socialite wasn’t my cup of tea; it was yours. Now, I’m free to be myself and not live under a cloud of judgment. As of this second, you are no lon
ger in my life. Get out!”
She points toward the door, jerking her head as he stands there with a genuine look of surprise. My Maren is kicking his ass to the curb—with style.
“You’re going to regret this, Maren.” He steps closer, but she throws her hand in his face and motions toward the door again.
He stomps out, and we both remain quiet until her front door slams. I stay crouched until his car engine roars out of the parking lot and then tumble out, ready for her to rush to me.
Instead, she stands in place, staring at me with an unreadable expression. My stomach coils, wondering if she’s finally going to have the breakdown I’ve been expecting.
She doesn’t burst into tears. She breaks out dancing. Her arms fly in the air, and she twirls in place while screaming, “We did it! The douche-dick is history!”
I join in, breaking into song and dancing until we’re out of breath. I don’t question her sanity because this is the happiest I’ve seen her in the four years since she met that shithead and he tried to groom her for high society.
A sparkle on her finger flashes, and I catch her hand, eyeing this ostentatious ring she’s worn for eighteen months.
“You didn’t give it back,” I state.
“Nope, and I’m not going to. Carlton Breen owes me, and he’s given me the best going away present ever.” She giggles.
“What?”
“He’s given me a down payment on our new business. This ring is going to ensure the start-up of the next step in our lives.”
I stop moving mid-hip swing and raise my eyebrows. “Mare, you’ve lost me.”
“Even though it sucked, this has been so much fun.”
“Fun?”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t fun. It was invigorating, though, and we were good at it. I want to do it some more.”
“Still lost here. What’s going on in your head?”
“We’re starting a business. Something where we can help other unsuspecting women, and maybe men, find the truth.”
“You want us to be PIs? Don’t we need to have some sort of license?”
“Come on, Emi. If we put our heads and resources together, this could be a real business. We did great.”
“Carlton wasn’t exactly hard to catch. He was cheating on you right under your nose. We snuck around, followed him, and took some pictures. I’m not sure we’re actually qualified to do this as a business.”
“I think the opposite. It took me way too long to finally wake up. Thank God, I stopped having sex with him, but I still was an idiot. What if we can help others who suspect their significant others are cheating?”
“We’ll set out to destroy relationships? It sounds pretty horrible.”
“You can’t possibly understand because you aren’t in my shoes. But what’s horrible is being the laughing stock of the community when it comes out that Carlton has been cheating on me for months—the questions, the smirks, the sympathetic and questioning glares. It’s humiliating, so I see this from a different perspective. It’s saving someone’s pride and self-worth, and besides, if there’s nothing to discover, then it’s not destroying relationships.”
“Maren, are you sure you’re okay here? This is crazy. Maybe ending your relationship has made you delusional.”
“No, Emi, I’m of sound mind. When we suspected Carlton of cheating all those months ago, I was devastated, but after crying myself to sleep for a week, I got mad. The range of emotions has cycled its course. Now, I’m perfectly fine. Actually, I’m better than fine. I feel like I just shed two-hundred pounds of dead weight. Knowing he was a lying, cheating bastard and having to pretend things were okay was slowly killing me inside. Now, I can fly high.”
I scan her face for signs of hysteria or that she’s lost her mind, but she’s cool as a cucumber, staring back at me with sincerity and hope.
Ripples of excitement shoot through me. She’s right about a few things.
This was fun. If you don’t count the blowjob debacle, we really did well. We took our time, scouted our moves, and flawlessly found the evidence she needed to prove her fiancé was a lying sack of shit. We saved her a lifetime of being Maren Breen.
“Okay, I’ll call your bluff. We can try this, see what happens, but where do we even start?”
Her eyes start to gleam, and the smile returns. “We start with a name. I think Tricksters Anonymous has a nice ring to it.”
The name bounces around my head, and another jolt of excitement bubbles inside. “Tricksters Anonymous has a certain flair to it.”
“You in?”
No hesitation, no reservation, I know my answer. “Hell yes.”
Chapter 1
Walker
My eyes scan the restaurant as I walk through the door. There’s a roar of laughter at the far end of the bar, and without seeing him, I know I’ve found Marcus.
Fucking great, he’s surrounded by a bunch of suits. I should have known that him choosing this place was a set-up. It was too coincidental that he’d select a place close to the station. He lured me with the promise of a few beers after a shitty day. Absentmindedly, I agreed, not checking the place out.
But now I see it, the swanky restaurant-bar combination. Perfect place for a bunch of lawyers to congregate and brag or sulk, depending on the situation. I’d prefer a hole in the wall with good food and cold beer. I consider ducking out and going to the local bar by my house, sending a text that I’ve been called back to work. Before I can bolt, Marcus stands and spots me.
He narrows his eyes suspiciously and bustles through his crowd, coming my way.
“Walker, timely as usual.” He claps his hand in mine and yanks me into a man hug unnecessarily. When his mouth is close to my ear, his jovial mood changes. “You even think about leaving now, I’ll shoot your ass on Saturday and leave you in the woods.”
He steps back, drops my hand, and raises an eyebrow.
“You couldn’t shoot my ass on your best day. Come up with something more believable. I see you’re sporting the suit today.”
“Court all day. Brutal couple. Reconfirms why both men and women should have a prenup and consider sterilization after they’ve finished having children.”
“Rough one?”
“You have no idea. This guy’s mistress showed up with their two-year-old, clearly pregnant with baby number two. My client had her three children present, and all of them were devastated.”
“Your client gonna get what she deserves?”
“Let’s just say this case is going to pay for our trip to Costa Rica this summer. I’m treating you to some fishing.”
“That’s something to look forward to.”
“Yeah, so, don’t try to leave me with these pompous idiots tonight or I’ll make good on shooting you.”
“If you know they’re idiots, why are we here?”
“It helps with morale around the office. A few drinks once in a while does a lot for camaraderie.” He gives me a grin before turning back to the bar.
Marcus has been my closest friend since seventh grade. We grew up in a small town outside of Charleston. We were known as the rebel rousers among our community, never expected to amount to anything. But we surprised the hell out of everyone. Two weeks after high school graduation, Marcus got in his old pickup truck and headed to Columbia to attend USC. I boarded a bus a few hours later, also headed for Columbia. My destination—United States Army Basic Combat Training. I’d never seen our parents so proud of us on that day.
Throughout the years, our lives took different paths, but we remained close. Marcus went on to graduate law school from USC at the top of his class. He had offers from the top law firms all over South Carolina but decided to come back to Charleston. I spent twelve years in the Army, finishing my career as a Military Police Officer. When I got out, the natural move was to come back to Charleston as well.
I spend my days as a detective in the Charleston Police Department, while Marcus finds himself in the pits of hell as a divorce and fam
ily lawyer.
We get together several times a month, and usually, I can avoid his coworkers. Tonight, I’m not so lucky. They’re not all bad guys, but sometimes, the bullshit is too thick even for me. There’s always one in the crowd who feels the need to boast the loudest with intentions of impressing everyone around him.
As we approach, I recognize many of the men and tip my head in greeting as I motion to the bartender. The perky blonde bounces to me with a smile, her eyes sizing me up before she leans over, resting her tits on the bar.
“What can I get ya?” she drawls out.
“Beer, Budweiser, cold.”
“Comin’ right up.” She makes a show of going to the beer cooler, popping the cap, and strutting the five feet back to me. “Anything else, handsome?”
“Start me a tab.” I lay a credit card on the bar and flash her a smile.
She takes it and winks at me before sashaying to her next customer. I turn back to the group of men and take a long slug, welcoming the cold beer as it slides down my throat.
God, how times have changed. Ten years ago, I’d say fuck these guys and focus on getting the hot little blonde under me by the end of the night.
Now, I rest my back to the bar and listen in as Marcus tells another obnoxious story about our last hunting trip. I have to laugh at his tale, knowing damn good and well he didn’t do half the shit he’s spewing. But watching him is entertaining. That’s where we are completely opposite. His style and charisma have always given him an upper hand in dealing with people, hence why he’s a great divorce lawyer. He can make even a desperate time in someone’s life seem like a positive beginning.
I, on the other hand, prefer the straight shooter method. The Army taught me a lot about myself. I’m methodical and precise, always deciphering the facts, and patience is not one of my strong points. That’s why it’s ironic I became a detective. Some of my cases take weeks and months to close, but somehow, I’ve found a balance.
By the time I’ve downed my second beer, I’m completely relaxed and actually enjoying myself.
“Walker Scott, right?” A guy comes to my side and waves to the bartender for another drink.
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