Love, Lies & Immortal Ties
C. J. Laurence
Contents
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
A Note From The Author
Also By This Author
Coming Soon
Copyright © 2020 C.J. Laurence
www.cjlauthor.com
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Cover Designer: LKO Designs
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
For all paranormal romance lovers
Chapter 1
I’d never really paid much attention to the opposite sex. Well, that’s a lie actually. I dated my childhood crush in secondary school for over a year but that all went disastrously wrong at prom. Ever since then, boys did not exist to me.
Until I moved back to the quaint seaside town of Whitby, in Yorkshire, my home, my birthplace. I moved back there to be with my dad, who had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Him and my mum split when I was six and my school holidays had been filled with trekking up here from the depths of Dorset to visit him for a whole thirteen weeks of the year.
Having just turned eighteen, now free of school, independence ran strong through my veins. The official status of being an adult, in the eyes of the law at least, provided a welcome relief to help break the chains my mum loved to bound me with.
She loved me, I knew that, and she wanted to keep me safe, but there comes a point when it’s time for the baby to fly the nest. Being devastated by my dad’s tragic news gave me the perfect excuse to cut the apron strings and be with him whilst I could.
After a tearful evening, and an early morning goodbye, I’d driven up to Whitby in just under six hours. Not bad going for a three-hundred-and-fifty-mile trip on congested English roads. Seeing dawn break over the picturesque town was exquisite, the shades of pinks and reds in the morning sky absolutely breath-taking. With acres of rugged wild fields splaying out to my left and right as I headed towards the coast, I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and felt a sense of vigour spread through my veins.
I couldn’t help but think, as the purple topped lavender fields passed me by, that it would be the perfect place to hide a body out here. No one would ever find it. I smirked to myself as my love of all things dark, grisly, and murderous took control of my mind once more. My mum had been concerned at one point about my interest in such subjects, but she’d gradually come to accept it as a healthy intrigue as oppose to the screaming signs of a serial killer in waiting.
Dad owned his own hotel right on the seafront, and I was looking forward to getting stuck in and helping him run his business. I dreaded to think what would happen to his beautiful house once he…my eyes watered. I couldn’t even face the fact that one day, soon, he wouldn’t be here.
As I pulled into one of the limited car parking spaces behind Dad’s house, I dabbed at my eyes, blinking the water away furiously. I thought I’d shed all the tears I could manage last night when my mum insisted on a girly night in with Chinese food, chick flicks, and all manner of sweets. Oh, and three bottles of wine, which by the way, I only managed to drink two glasses of. Needless to say, Mum looked damn awful this morning as she dragged herself from her bed to hug and kiss me goodbye.
Shaking away all sad thoughts, I sucked in a deep breath and told myself to be optimistic and happy. That's all that Dad needed right now, no doom and gloom and waves of tears. I grabbed my humongous suitcases from my boot and looked up at the back of Dad’s creamy coloured hotel. It looked like a fresh lick of paint had been done not too long ago. Compared to the dreary looking buildings either side, it stood out like a diamond amongst onyx.
The back door to the kitchen had been left open, which meant Sophie would be cooking and most probably rather hot, bless her. Sophie had lived in Whitby all her life. Her husband had left her many years ago for a pilates instructor and her two boys had both been tragically killed in the line of duty over in Afghanistan. At a loose end, she’d applied to be the cook at Dad’s B&B just to give herself something to do. That had been nearly fifteen years ago, and she now also cooked in the evenings too for those guests who requested evening meals.
Joanna was the only other person who worked here. A single mum of two-year-old twin girls, she often brought them to work with her when she couldn’t get childcare or, as I suspected, couldn’t afford it. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a size zero, I'd told her many times to get herself into modelling, but she was too shy and lacked the confidence to pursue such a career.
I walked through the back door and into the utility room. It had been a dining room at some point, making a lovely open kitchen/diner but when Dad bought the house, he moved the dining room to the living room to fit in all the guests.
As soon as I walked in, it somehow felt smaller, like the room had shrunk. It had always housed the washing machine, tumble dryer, and the dishwasher, but for some reason, it now felt cosier than normal. To my surprise, some changes had been made. The walls had a fresh lick of paint, magnolia of course, but several shelves were dotted around, and a black marble effect worktop had been installed over the top of the machines. Perhaps the new additions made it feel more closed in than normal.
To the left sat the kitchen. As I glanced through, I rocked back on my heels. The entire kitchen had been revamped. The grimy cream tiles and falling apart white cupboards had been ditched for oak and black marble effect worktops. A built-in microwave, built-in oven, shiny new extractor hood, Dad really had gone the extra mile to update the kitchen into something modern. I bet Sophie loved it.
“Hey,” Sophie said, giving me a wide smile as she walked back into the kitchen from the lounge. “So good to see you. How have you been?”
“I’m good, how are you?” I said, reaching out for a hug.
Wrapping her arms around me, Sophie sighed. “I’m ok. Not so sure about your dad though.”
I stepped back and waved my arm at the kitchen. “I presume this has all happened since his...diagnosis?”
A sad look washed through Sophie’s green eyes. Along with her chocolate coloured hair framing her face, she often reminded me of Bambi. “It’s like he’s got no control anymore. He’s just spending money for the sake of it.”
I winced. “But this is a good cause. The kitchen was pretty awful.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I know but he’s just not…”
“Not what?”
We both startled at the sound of Dad’s voice.
“Dad,” I said, rushing towards him for a hug. “What has been going on? What’s all this?”
“Nice to see you, too,” he said, giving me a sly smile. He slipped his arms around me and squished me in one of his normal bear hugs. “Good to see you, pumpkin.”
I kissed his cheek and replied, “Even better to see you, Daddy.”
He laughed and let me go. It wasn’t often I called him that, it was more a pet name when I felt cute. “The place needed updating,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen. “No time like the present. My handyman found me all this for a bargain of a price and he fitted it too.”
“Your handyman?”
Dad nodded. “Yes, I hired him a few months ago. He's done wonders so far. You'll meet him soon enough. Now, let’s get you all settled in.”
The house had four storeys, five if you included the basement level rooms which were for staff. Joanna and Sophie both had their own places and had refused to move in. I could understand that. The small windows that provided the only source of daylight made the rooms feel dark and dingy, not ideal for young children or your general sense of happiness.
“This way,” Dad said, grinning. “Come hither.”
Dad led the way, confusing me yet again. The way to the basement had always been through a door in the corner of the kitchen. That had now been de-handled and painted magnolia to match the rest of the kitchen walls.
He led me back outside, making me seriously frown. Where the back door sat to the very left of the building, I could see nothing but the rest of the back wall of the house, except for a tap.
“Am I living outside like a rabbit now or something?”
He laughed. “I wanted the outside to look like there was still only one door so ta-dah,” he said, grinning. He pressed the tap downwards, as if it were a normal door handle. To my surprise, the wall moved, opening outwards like another door. “Very clever, don’t you think?”
My brief conversation with Sophie sprung to mind. Something was definitely off with Dad. He had never been this...this erratic or bizarre.
“This way, you don’t even have to enter the house. No disturbing the guests, which you know I hate.”
Sure, it was very cool. I certainly hadn’t noticed the extra door until he’d opened it. I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms over my chest. “What is this, Dad? What’s with the secret squirrel?”
He spluttered with laughter. “Nothing, sweetpea. I thought you might like the independence this would give you. No curfews, no restrictions on visitors...” He gave me a cheeky wink.
My cheeks flamed instantly. “Dad!” I put my hands to my cheeks and willed a hole in the ground to open up and swallow me. Now.
“Oh, come on, pumpkin. We’re all adults. I know you won’t be my innocent little girl forever.”
I stepped back and put my hands up in a surrender sign. “Seriously, Dad, not having this conversation with you.”
He grinned at me. “Ok, I promise I'm done. Shall we?”
I eyed him with suspicion for a few minutes before following him through the door. I expected some sort of narrow tunnel, visions of The Great Escape ran through my head. Instead, a wide corridor, brightly lit with powerful white lights overhead and a gorgeous light grey tile floor greeted me.
“Is this why the utility room felt smaller?”
Dad nodded and grinned. “Because it is. Took quite a bit of doing, this.” He pointed to my left where the stairs from the normal entrance merged with the corridor. “I told him to leave those in. Just in case we ever need to use them again.”
Then I noticed the floor had a gentle slope to it, barely noticeable, but when the bottom step of the wooden staircase met squarely with the tiled floor, it gave me such a weird feeling of having descended somewhere without even knowing it.
As we walked down, light flooded the once dark space, revealing what appeared to be furniture of some sort. There should have been four bedroom doors along the back wall but they appeared to be gone. Instead, a few feet later, the wall on my left ended, and revealed an open plan mini apartment. I leaned against the right-hand wall to steady myself and gasped.
“Dad...what is this?”
“It’s your new home, pumpkin,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “My handyman did this, all for you.”
Kitchen, dining room, a massive king size bed, a huge flat screen TV in the end of the bed, and one door at the very end, which I presumed led to a bathroom, it was an amazing mini world I’d been gifted. Even the windows had changed from separate small ones into one long one that seemed to also be a little larger.
“I don’t know what to say, Dad. Thank you doesn’t really cut it.”
“You don’t need to thank me, sweetpea, I know how much of a huge change this is for you and I wanted to make it as easy as possible for you. New life, new house, well, kind of.”
I threw my arms around his neck and allowed a few tears to fall. What an amazing dad I had. I couldn’t help but wonder what other changes would happen to my life as a result of moving up here.
Chapter 2
I first caught sight of him on my second day in Whitby when my dad insisted on doing the rounds of the tourist routes, again.
“Dad, come on, I know them all inside out.”
“For old times sake, Caitlyn,” he said, his voice weak and fragile. “I don’t know when I won’t be able to do it anymore.”
Guilt tugged at my heart as a wave of tears threatened to spring free from my eyes. With Sophie left to hold the fort at the hotel, Dad and I indulged in a full day of tourist activities.
As always, first things first, we headed out for breakfast, to a café my dad had always loved, aptly named The Bridge Café. It served the best full English breakfast I had ever tasted in my life. My mouth watered just at the thought of what awaited me.
A small building, black framed with huge glass windows looking out over the marina, it would be easy to pass it by as a greasy spoon and think no more of it. The owners, Harry and Sue, had both grown up with my dad and were very fond of telling me stories about my younger self whenever they saw me.
Sue greeted us with her usual beaming smile and then enveloped me in a squishy hug. She reminded me of Mrs Doubtfire, right down to the way she dressed and her bubbly personality.
“Caitlyn, look at you,” she said, holding me back at arm’s length. “Such a proper young lady. It’s great to see you again.”
“You too, Sue. Say hi to Harry for me.”
Her cheerful face darkened. “If he survives his fishing trip. Stupid fool has gone out this morning with that young Wilson lad.”
Dad smirked. “He’ll be fine, Sue. He’s got more years experience on a boat than what you have cooking food.”
“That doesn’t help him when his shoulder seizes up or the arthritis in his hip makes him all but useless.”
I stifled a giggle and took a window seat, admiring the view over the open harbour. A small pedestrian path separated the café from the River Esk and the busy port. Black iron railings lined the edge of the concrete to save people falling into the deep water.
Even with clouds covering the town today, the scenery here was nothing short of amazing. The sight of St Mary’s Church up on the hill on the opposite side of the quay sent shivers down my spine. It was so old yet majestic looking and I knew what lay just behind it—the legendary Whitby Abbey.
The bell above the door tinkled as another customer walked into the café, letting a gust of fresh, salty air blow through the small room. Despite it being July, the English weather meant suffering either blustery cold wind or unbearable heatwaves. As per usual for England, summer usually lasted for all of a week, culminated in a tremendous thunderstorm before the weather turned for autumn.
A flock of seagulls hovered over the river, squawking and swooping down to the docked
boats. I sighed in content as Dad chatted with Sue, surveying the prettiness that would now be my life. A midnight blue boat chugged down the murky river, its noisy engine cutting out as it approached to dock. I didn’t know the ins and out of boats, but I knew enough from my time up here that it was a fishing boat.
I watched in amazement as it came to a stop right outside the café. A figure moved inside the cabin. I studied its wooden deck, slick wet with water, and covered in thick nets. That’s when I first saw him—Marcus Davenport.
He emerged from the cabin with his back to me, a head of shiny black hair appeared first, thick and glossy, hanging just above his ears and moving freely with the light breeze outside. Broad shoulders followed next, then a trim waist and long lean legs. He turned around and then I found myself truly stunned.
Startling blue eyes, high cheekbones, plump pink lips, a gentle curving nose, and the palest skin to rival any albino, words couldn’t describe him. My mouth dropped open and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he saw my reaction as right at that moment, his lips tweaked up into the most delicious, dangerous smile I’d ever seen.
Sauntering across the deck with ease, he almost seemed to glide, as if walking on air. Dressed in faded ripped jeans and a very clingy white t-shirt, I could clearly see his defined pecs as the wind blew his top even tighter against his lithe body. Part of me, the wicked part, wanted him to fall over on the slippery deck, but the other half of me wanted to carry on enjoying the show as this spectacular specimen of the male species showcased himself right in front of my very eyes.
Love, Lies and Immortal Ties: A young adult paranormal romance (Love, Lies and Ties Book 1) Page 1
