Evan (Novella): 3.5 (A Carter Brother Series)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  EVAN

  A Carter Brother series 3.5

  Lisa Helen Gray

  ©

  Copy rights reserved

  2016

  Lisa Helen Gray

  Edited by Elisia Goodman

  Cover art By Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distrusted via the internet without the publishers permission and is a violation of the international copyright law, which subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This book is licensed for your enjoyment. EBook copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy, and thank you for respecting the authors work.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and events are all product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business or establishments is purely coincident.

  CHAPTER ONE

  EVAN

  Finding out your mom isn’t your mom and that your biological mom was killed by the woman who pretended to be your mother for twenty-eight years, really fucking sucks.

  I always knew I was adopted. I remembered an old couple before moving in with my dad. They were loving and kind and nothing like the mother I grew up with. I remember always thinking, ‘take me back to them’. It wasn’t until they let me near my sister that I knew I needed to stay. Someone had to protect her.

  I failed.

  In so many ways.

  Not only from my mother, but from the evil outside the four walls we lived in. When I failed to protect her from one of the gangs from around our town I knew I had to step up. I needed to make the right choices instead of always making the wrong ones.

  It’s what brought me to now.

  “Are you sure we can’t change your mind to stay?’’ my now old boss, William, asks me. He’s just pissed he doesn’t have anyone my age on his force team now to go undercover. After the last nine years of doing it and nearly losing my sister, then finding out she was pregnant and so on, I need to get a life. In the literal sense too. I want what she has. She’s getting married soon and has a baby. I want that. No, I need that in my life. I’m not saying I’m ready for kids, I’m nowhere near ready, but the getting married part, settling down, that I do want. I’m ready.

  “No, Sir. I need to do this,’’ I tell him for the tenth time this afternoon. I’d just finished packing my stuff up from my office when I got called into his. He’s been at me for a month since I handed in my notice to stay on. I had to finish off the few cases I had left open before I could leave. It wasn’t required of me, but I’d feel like I left the job undone if I left them open.

  “Well, I’m sad to see you go, but, Son, if you ever, and I mean, ever, want to come back to the job, there will always be a job here waiting for you.’’

  “Thank you, Sir, but I’m invested in the new business.’’

  “Ah, the security bodyguard gig.’’

  I laugh. He doesn’t get it. It’s not just about security for the rich and famous or that I’ll be installing security systems, it’s the fact it’s something I love to do. I’ve always wanted to get in this side of work. Yeah, I’ll still have the odd occasional job where I’ll most likely have to go spy on someone’s spouse cheating, but it’s all in good faith. One day I’ll get the business to a place where it needs. As it is we’re doing better than most companies like us do in the first few months of starting. We’ve got some pretty high paying clients, some security instalments lined up and a few jobs here and there.

  “Yeah. Look, I need to get going, but I’ll see you tonight?’’ I ask picking up my box of belongings.

  “Will you?’’ he asks looking confused. The guy couldn’t hide a secret if it was worth his life. How he managed to get this job is a bloody mystery.

  “I heard you telling the boys you’ll meet us at the Cavan at ten,’’ I tell him dryly.

  “Fuck! Don’t let on that you know,’’ he shrugs, rubbing his large hands down his face. The guy really needs to exercise more.

  “See you later,’’ I laugh, walking out. Everyone looks up from their desks, giving me chin lifts. I extend one back until I get to the front desk and my face falls. This is the part of the job I’ll never miss. I fucking hate walking in and seeing her face every day.

  “Evan,’’ she coos, smirking. “We’re going to miss you around here. How about we get together tonight and give you a proper send off? We don’t have anything standing between us anymore.’’

  I cringe. The woman is a life-size Barbie doll and I’m not fucking kidding. In fact, she looks more plastic than a Barbie.

  “Yeah, I also don’t have to worry about losing my job now either, so I can say what I like. Fuck off and pester someone else to get your rocks off.’’ I leave her standing at her desk with her mouth hanging wide open. Though, I’m pretty sure she’s used to her mouth being open like that. I wouldn’t put it past her if she had every STD known to mankind. She’s the definition of the word ‘slut’.

  *** *** *** ***

  Back at my place it isn’t much better than my time with Sally on the front desk. Lexi is waiting and she’s brought her date with her.

  Ever since my sister’s kidnapping the woman has changed. I thought we were getting close, you know, close to becoming something more than friends. But when I tried to kiss her she backed off and told me she was dating, that she was seeing someone.

  Talk about kick a man when he’s down.

  I never realised it until then that my feelings for Lexi came only from my need to settle down. And because I believed Lexi was the easiest person to do that with. Everything with her seemed easy. I just never really looked deep enough. Sometimes the way she looked at me made me wonder if she saw me as more than a friend. All the signs were there. She was constantly calling me, talking to me until early hours of the morning on some nights and she always got me food in when she knew I was coming home from a job.

  Obviously my radar is off because, in her exact words, she sees me like a brother.

  A fucking brother.

  No way would Denny look at me the way she does when I’d walk into a room, or when I would strip down to my gym shorts.

  Needing to get this awkward exchange over with I jump out of the car and grab my box from the backseat. She’s just stepping onto the curb when I reach them.

  “Hey,’’ she whispers quietly and I notice jerk’s hand clench around hers. My eyes narrow on her hand. But I know Lexi. If this prick was hurting her she’d tell me. Her ex-husband beat her pretty badly so I know she wouldn’t fall into the same trap. It took a lot for her to get out when she did.

  I had lived next to her when I was working on a case, before the whole Davis gang issue came up. I’d been on that one for about a year before it got finished. It was the worst fucking job of my life. It’s another reason I wanted out of the force.

  I ended up getting drugged and one of the whores that hung around the unit used it as an invitation to sleep with me. It was the last night I had to be there too. How the fuck I got hard is anyone’s guess. I’d been tested right after for every STD there is and they all came back negative.

  “Hey,’’ I nod, staring boldly at the jerk next to her.

  “You remember Simon, don’t you?’’ she asks, introducing us aga
in.

  “Hey, yeah. Nice to see you again, Steve. I was in a rush the last time,’’ I lie. I just didn’t want to have an awkward introduction. Ever since the almost kiss my ego has taken a hit. A huge fucking hit.

  “It’s Simon,’’ he growls. I don’t answer. Instead I look to Lexi and give her a nod before looking back to the house.

  “I best be going. I’ve got to meet the lads in an hour,’’ I lie. I haven’t got to meet them until another four or five hours, but they don’t know that.

  “Okay, I’ll let you go and I’ll see you later. Oh, before I forget,’’ she starts when I pass her to walk up the path. I stop walking and turn back around to face her. “A letter was posted at mine a few months back by mistake. I put it on your kitchen unit. I forgot about it until today when I sorted through my mail,’’ she smiles.

  “Cheers-”

  “You have a key to his apartment?’’ Steve asks.

  “Yeah, I look after his place,’’ she begins to explain, but I interrupt, not wanting to get in the middle.

  “I’ll see you later,’’ I nod again. “See you later, Steve.’’

  “It’s Simon,’’ he growls again.

  Well, shit. Who the fuck cares? It could be fucking Peter for all I care. All I know right now is that I want to get the fuck inside and away from them. So that’s what I do. I ignore them talking at the end of the path and make my way up to the door.

  The letter is the first thing I see when I walk in, but instead of heading over to pick it up I decide to crash on the couch. I switch the TV on, flicking over to Sky Sports.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KENNEDY

  Why am I so fudging nervous? He’s a cop. An undercover one at that. He won’t get angry. He took an oath to serve and protect, not blame and shame.

  Maybe he’ll be overjoyed. Yeah, he could be that.

  Or not.

  I groan. I’m sitting outside in my beat up red Rover. I’m still surprised it managed the half an hour trip here. It needs a bit of work done. Okay, a lot of work done to it, but it will cost me more to fix the ancient piece of poop than it would to buy a new one.

  Banging my head on the steering wheel I try to calm my nerves.

  I can do this. You can do this. We can do this. You have no choice but to do this.

  I tell myself I’m doing the wrong thing, to turn back around, but after weeks of no replies or phone calls I demand a reason why. Imogen deserves answers.

  The pent up anger I’ve been bottling up since it all began begins to release. Getting out of the car I wince when the rusty door protests loudly, waking up some kids in Australia. God, I should really look at doing something about that soon. Get some WD40 or something. That should do the trick.

  Locking the door, I realise I forgot to roll my window up. I’d been so nervous I began to sweat on the way over here. Groaning, I open the door again, wincing again at the sound. I start to roll the window up, but like always, it gets stuck. Not wanting to be seen next to the beat up car I quickly use my one hand to lift the glass, while the other keeps winding up the window. In no time the window is up and I’m free to lock up and move onto the curb.

  Walking up to the door is easy. Knocking? That’s just another flipping story. Biting my bottom lip until I taste blood, I finally find the courage to knock on the door, the sound echoing in my ears.

  Anyone would think I was walking to my own death, and not what I’m about to fudging do.

  When no one answers I knock again. I know he’s here. I’d been waiting a few cars down for him to come home.

  My nerves have only skyrocketed because I thought he was this other person. He arrived not long after I arrived. I heard him talking on the phone as he got out of his car, talking about tonight being the night and some other crude comments. When the man started walking in the direction of where I needed to go my stomach pummelled to the floor. Then I noticed a pretty woman walking from next door smiling towards him and I began to relax. But it was short lived when another car pulled up. I knew as soon as he stepped out that it was him.

  “Yeah?’’ a deep, husky voice asks. I didn’t even notice the door had opened. I also never expected him to look like that. Yeah, when he stepped out of the car my stomach did a flip, but I didn’t really get a good look at him. But now… Holy fudging poop balls. What the hell did my sister do? Drug him? I know it’s bad to speak ill of the dead, but in all honesty, dying had been the best thing to happen to my sister, Vicky. She had never been able to cope since my parents died. Well, even before that. She’d pop a pill or two if she failed in a lesson, and she did that a lot. After my parents she got worse. She got mixed up in things that she shouldn’t have, and was spiralling out of control. There was no saving her and, believe me, I tried.

  “Can I help you?’’ the voice asks again and I realise I’m staring. He’s wearing a white shirt, his tie loose around his neck, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned a few from the top with his sleeves rolled up. He looks fudging edible.

  “She’s yours,’’ I blurt out. Then close my eyes with embarrassment. She’s yours, seriously? What the fudge is wrong with me?

  “Excuse me?’’ he asks, looking at me like I’m a mental patient. Which I could totally be with the way I’m acting. I have the craziness for it.

  “I mean, I… um… I’m Kennedy Wright,’’ I introduce myself, forgetting my anger towards the god-like angel and the whole speech I rehearsed for the entire week.

  “Hi, I’m Evan, but I still don’t understand. Who are you?’’ A small smirk plays at his lips and my eyes are drawn to them. My belly does that flip thingy again and my body begins to heat as I stare at his lips. They’re full, red and totally kissable. I reckon kissing him would be like how they kiss in the movies. You know when the bloke’s lips linger, looking full against yours?

  His tongue reaches out flicking his top lip, and I sigh. Yeah, kissing him would totally be like kissing a movie star.

  He coughs, breaking the spell his lips had me in, and I blush furiously. I shake my head ignoring how incredibly sexy he looks when he grins and how his muscles look flexing in his white shirt.

  “Get it together,’’ I whisper.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.’’

  “Sorry. Look, can I come in?’’

  “Not to sound rude, Kennedy, but I still don’t know why you’re here or why you’d be knocking on my door. I’d remember seeing a pretty face like yours before.’’

  He thinks I’m beautiful? Insert ‘sigh’ right here.

  I give him a slow smile but soon lose it when I remember why I’m here.

  “Do you remember Vicky Wright?’’ I ask.

  “Vicky Wright? Vicky…Vick…, Vicky. Fuck!’’ he says, his eyes widening. I guess he does remember her. “Whatever the fuck that fucking bitch wants, I don’t want to know about it,’’ he snaps, going to shut the door in my face. My hand moves quickly, stopping him from slamming the door in my face. I’m shocked at my bluntness but now he’s just pissed me off.

  “Hold on just a darn minute,’’ I snap, pushing at his hard chest. Even through the thin material I feel the heat scorching off him. “I’m not having you do this. You’ve ignored me for weeks. You had a chance to do this over the phone or by post and not face to face, so you’ll hear me out.’’

  “You’re as crazy as her, are you… wait… Wright. You said you were Kennedy Wright. Please don’t tell me she’s your sister and she’s made you come here to do her dirty work?’’

  “Well, as she’s dead I’d say that’s an astounding no,’’ I snap.

  “Fuck! I’m…’’

  “Please don’t say you’re sorry when we both know you’re not,’’ I snap, feeling my temper rising. He just holds his hands up and steps back a little, the door opening a little wider.

  “If she’s dead then I don’t see why you’re here. If she was murdered, or you want someone to look into her death, you’ll have to file a report,’’ he tells me and I turn my
head to the side, studying him. He really doesn’t know. I had hoped she had been lying when she told me he knew. That he didn’t care.

  “You don’t understand. I…um… do we have to do this outside?’’ I ask nervously. My anger simmers. If it wasn’t for Imogen then I wouldn’t be here and from his reaction I’m guessing he doesn’t know and it was a good thing I came.

  “Come in, but if you don’t hurry up and tell me what the fuck is going on, I’m going to kick you back out.’’

  “Imogen,’’ I blurt out nervously. I close my eyes again wishing I had some sort of control when it came to my mouth. I really know how to break news to people, I swear.

  “Sorry?’’

  “Imogen. She’s a five month old baby,’’ I tell him straight out.

  “That’s…great,’’ he tells me dryly. He’s still looking at me like I’ve grown two heads and, for a detective or whatever, he sure doesn’t know how to connect the dots.

  “She’s Vicky’s, do the math.’’

  He looks at me for a few seconds, just staring. Then his eyes go wide, turning a stormy grey colour and causing a shiver to run down my spine. I take a step back, my back hitting the front door.

  “That fucking…. If you’re insinuating what I think you are then you’ll need a DNA test because that bitch spread her legs for pennies.’’

  “You should know,’’ I snap, hating the reminder of what she was like. Most people didn’t see just how bad she was, but I did.

  “I should know? I should know,’’ he roars, pulling at his fair hair. I don’t get it. What is he so mad about? Was he really that in love with her? I guess she was okay looking in a way. I don’t know. All I saw when I looked at her was an underweight drug user who had no self-respect or any care for her own life and wellbeing. “That slut fucking drugged me. Okay, I don’t know if it was her that actually slipped the drugs into my drink, but she as sure as shit was the whore that rode my dick while I was unconscious,’’ he yells.

  My eyes bug out. Oh my gosh. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? No wonder he has issues and went off at me when he heard her name. He was raped. By my sister. Oh my gosh! Imogen’s mom was a rapist, a drug user, a whore, and, worst of all, she was going to sell her baby for money.