Saviour Boy (The All American Boy Series)

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Saviour Boy (The All American Boy Series) Page 1

by S. L. Sterling




  Saviour Boy

  S.L. Sterling

  Contents

  Untitled

  The series includes the following books:

  1. Grant

  2. Becca

  3. Grant

  4. Becca

  5. Grant

  6. Becca

  7. Grant

  8. Becca

  9. Grant

  10. Becca

  11. Grant

  12. Becca

  Epilogue

  Untitled

  A Note From S.L. Sterling

  About the Author

  Other Titles by S.L. Sterling

  Saviour Boy

  All American Boys Series

  S.L. Sterling

  Saviour Boy

  Copyright © 2020 by S.L. Sterling

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved about, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of the book. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Disclaimer: This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. It involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are consenting adults over the age of 18.

  ISBN: 978-1-989566-16-9

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989566-17-6

  Editor: Brandi Aquino, Editing Done Write

  Cover Design: Jo-Anna Walker, Just Write Creations

  The All American Boys Series

  Welcome to Merlot, CA, an idyllic all-American town in wine country where love is in the air, the boys are grown as fine as the wine and the town is a breeding ground for second-chances, weddings, and brand-new beginnings.

  The All-American Boy Series gives you a taste of 15 of your favorite bestselling authors’ brand-new stories in this shared world experience. All books are standalone but may include cross-over in characters or scenes.

  Grab a glass of wine, put your feet up and let us whisk you away to wine country.

  Sierra Hill The Boy Next Door

  Poppy Parkes Boy Toy

  Evan Grace The Boy Scout

  Emily Robertson The Boyfriend Hoax

  Kaylee Ryan and Lacey Black Boy Trouble

  Kimberly Readnour Celebrity Playboy

  Marika Ray Backroom Boy

  Leslie McAdam Boy on a Train

  KL Humphreys Bad Boy

  Nicole Richard Hometown Boy

  Remy Blake That Boy

  Stephanie Browning The Boy She Left Behind

  Stephanie Kay About a Boy

  Renee Harless Lover Boy

  S.L. Sterling Saviour Boy

  Grant

  I had just sat down when Gale rounded the corner, holding what appeared to be a service order.

  “Grant, I’m sorry. I missed this one. It was on my desk under the orders from yesterday.”

  I glanced down at the work order. “Did you take this call? This order is over at a storage facility outside of town. I recognize the address. I stored my belongings there when I went overseas.”

  “I did. It’s not the business owner either. It’s for one rental locker,” she said, coming around my desk. “Yes, right here. Storage locker number sixty-four,” she said, pointing to where she had marked it.

  “Gale, I don’t think they even allow this.”

  “No, not normally, but the guy said he had written permission from the business owner. He agreed to provide it to us when we were there.”

  “Alright, I guess I will have to be the one to go install the system then, since I gave the guys their assignments for the day.” I grabbed my coffee and headed to the back of the building to get the equipment I would need.

  I drove to the storage facility just on the outskirts of town and went directly to locker sixty-four. The door was open, the locker full of furniture along with a windowless white van. I put my truck into park and climbed out. I walked around to the back of my truck when a man emerged from the front passengers side of the van, raising his hand to me in greeting.

  “Hey, are you the alarm guy?”

  “Yep.”

  “You have what I ordered?”

  “Sure do. Five of the best cameras and monitoring.”

  “Great.”

  “Honestly, I think five cameras is overkill for the hallway. You can get away with two for less than half the price.”

  “Oh, they aren’t going outside the unit. They are for inside.”

  “Okay, but you know that cameras are to protect your stuff from being stolen, not to watch from inside.”

  “Yes, I know. I have something precious to me in here and just want to be sure it will be safe. So, I was going to have you put four cameras in here and one outside.”

  “No problem,” I said, getting right to work.

  The guy watched me like a hawk as I worked to install the cameras in the locations he had asked. As I got off the ladder, I backed up into a table covered with a sheet, almost knocking it over. He flew across the room, grabbing the table before I could, and glared at me.

  “Please, touch nothing,” he gritted as he carefully righted the table, standing and glaring at me.

  I backed away slowly, and a few minutes later, I had connected the other two. I left him instructions on how to access his video feed, quickly taking a copy for my records in case, in the future, he forgot how to access them.

  I watched as a sly smile crept onto his face as he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and paid me the twenty-five hundred dollars for the system I had just installed.

  Becca

  “Becca, are we keeping you from something important?” Mr. Dickson turned around and glared at me from over the rim of his glasses.

  I could feel my face heating as my eyes met his. I suddenly felt like a child who had been caught doing something she shouldn’t be. I glanced around as the entire boardroom lifted their heads from their notes they had been making and looked at me. I shook my head. “No, sir.” I swallowed hard. “It won’t happen again,” I said, struggling to silence my phone, which was still vibrating on the boardroom.

  “Then please, either answer whoever is messaging you and make them go away or shut your phone off,” he said as my phone went off again, annoyance settling on his face.

  I quickly shut the phone off, apologizing profusely for the interruption.

  “Don’t apologize to me, Becca. Apologize to all your co-workers who would like to learn about our spring promotions before the season kicks off. I’m also sure that most of them would like to get out of here on time for once on a Friday night, especially after the Christmas season we just had,” he bit out, turning back to the whiteboard, continuing right where he had left off.

  My co-workers turned their attention back to the whiteboard. I, however, sat there barely listening. I knew I should have excused myself to take that call. I could practically hear Jace’s angry voice on the other end of the line. My stomach turned as the memory of what had happened just one short week ago ran vividly through my mind after not answering a call from him. I knew I should have called my brother right after it happened, but I didn’t. Instead I figured he would go away if I ignored him long enough. Apparently, I was wrong.

  Jace and I had been dating for the last six or seven months, until a week ago
. Over the holiday season, I had come home late pretty much every single night, and he had joked about having to keep tabs on me whenever I didn’t respond to his messages right away. If I didn’t answer my cell phone for whatever reason, he would call my office line, leaving messages. He would use my full name in a low and controlled voice on every message, sending chills through me.

  His controlling behaviour had become irritating, but one week ago had been the breaking point. He had met me at my apartment after work last Friday night and immediately started questioning me.

  “I don’t understand what is so hard about answering my messages. I want to know where you’ve been. I’ve been messaging you all afternoon,” Jace barked as he walked into the kitchen, stuck his head in the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of beer, while I finished chewing a handful of almonds I’d shoved into my mouth.

  “I told you, I was in a meeting. I couldn’t answer the phone. Mr. Dickson had been going over customer complaints, and many of those complaints concerned my department.”

  “I don’t care. I’m important, and when I message you, I expect a response.”

  “I never said you weren’t important, Jace, but this is my job. I didn’t get the position I have by ignoring problems, and the problems he was bringing to my attention really needed to be addressed.”

  Jace ignored my answer and then leaned against the wall. “Fine, if you say so. Are we still heading to your parents’ for the family barbecue next weekend?” he questioned, ripping the cap off his beer and guzzling half the bottle.

  He had been after me for the last couple of months to take him to meet my family. He kept saying he was thinking I was ashamed of him. I assured him that wasn’t the case at all. Honestly, I didn’t know why I hadn’t taken him home yet. Part of me felt that because I came from a long line of law enforcement, that Jace might not fit in. I knew very little about his past because he was so guarded, and I knew that my family were question-askers and answer-seekers.

  “I don’t think so. I have to work late on Friday and be back early Saturday. It’s a long drive, and with Sunday being my only day off, it’s going to be hard enough to get everything done around here.”

  I poured a glass of wine, putting the bottle back into the fridge. Before I could turn around, I was roughly grabbed, spun around, and brutally pushed up against the wall. I let out a deep inhale as my back and head hit the wall. It took only a second before my head began pounding, and I struggled to open my eyes.

  “Rebecca, when are you going to understand I don’t like being ignored. I also don’t like being hidden.” He glared into my eyes, his arm across my throat.

  I was shaking so badly I couldn’t say anything. He stood there glaring into my eyes, his rough hand now wrapped around my throat.

  “You’ve been running around for how long? An hour or two since the end of the workday? I’ve called you. You haven’t returned my calls, so that means you’ve been ignoring me. Or are you out with someone else?” he gritted.

  “Yes, it’s been two hours, but...” I tried to form the words to explain I had been late because I needed to mail some stuff for work, but my head ached and I was seeing stars.

  “No buts. Now I also find out you won’t introduce me to your family yet again, as you promised. You say you’re not ashamed of me, but it’s seriously making me wonder. You say you don’t ignore problems. This is a problem,” he said smashing his fist into the wall beside my head, putting a significant dent in the drywall.

  Never in my entire life had I ever felt the need to use my family to protect me, but I needed help. I mustered up every bit of courage I had left in me before I spoke. “Jace, do I need to remind you I come from a long line of law enforcement? My brother is ATF, my sister is DEA, and my father was FBI,” I said with a shaky but calm voice.

  Jace just glared at me, and then ever so slowly he let me go, straightening his shirt as he stepped back. As soon as his hands were off me, I did my best to step away and not freak out. “I think it’s time you leave.”

  It surprised me he didn’t put up a fight. Instead, he nodded, hanging his head and, without argument, grabbed his jacket and walked out of the apartment. I ran and locked the door the second I heard it shut. That had been a week ago, and aside from the constant text messaging, I hadn’t seen or heard from him.

  I jumped as I felt someone pull on my arm, and I turned to see Jan, the valet manager, looking down at me. “Everything okay, Becca?” she asked, concern lining her face.

  I glanced around, noticing that everyone had already packed up their notes, and aside from a few stragglers, the boardroom was almost empty.

  “Yes,” I said, scrambling to grab the mess of papers in front of me and put them in an unorganized pile. “I just remembered I have to do something before I leave.” I practically ran towards my office, leaving Jan behind.

  Sweat dripped from my forehead as I finished that last ten minutes of my elliptical routine. I’d needed to chase the thoughts of Jace from my memory, and the gym normally did the trick. I grabbed my towel and wiped my forehead and headed into the changing room. I quickly changed into my sweats and then headed upstairs to the wine shop to pick up my favourite bottle of Moscatto before heading home.

  I now stood outside my apartment door struggling with the bottle of wine, my laptop bag, and my key. Finally, I got the key in the lock, pushed the door open, and dropped everything just inside the door. I slipped out of my sneakers and made my way into the kitchen, shoving the bottle of wine into the fridge. I grabbed a strawberry and shoved it into my mouth, then headed down the hall to the bathroom for a hot shower. Seconds later, I stood under the warm water, letting it soothe my tired, aching muscles.

  When the water ran cold, I shut the taps off and reached out to grab a towel from the towel rack. Wrapping it around my body, I opened the curtain and instantly, all the tension that had left my body over the last twenty minutes was back and higher than ever as I read what was written in the condensation across the mirror. “Not Over You.”

  I glanced around the small bathroom, the door still closed. I felt a chill run over me. Was Jace here? How did he get into my apartment? He didn’t have a key. I rushed to dry off and opened the bathroom door, poking my head out in the hallway to look around.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Jace, are you here?” Silence was all that greeted me. “This isn’t funny, Jace. If you are here, say something, please.”

  I felt like an idiot. Of course he wasn’t here. The door had been locked when I had come home, and I knew I had locked the dead bolt before I had showered. Still, another chill ran through me. I slipped across the hall into my bedroom and grabbed the phone from my nightstand. I held it in my hand for a moment, my finger tracing the number I didn’t want to have to call. Yet I knew I didn’t have a choice, and I dialed my brother anyway.

  The phone had barely rung when his voice came across the line.

  “Chris here.”

  “Hey, big bro. You busy?”

  “Just at work. Why?”

  “I need some help. Can you come over?” I knew the tremor in my voice would let him know something was wrong, and like usual, he didn’t hesitate one bit.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  He hadn’t been kidding because within five minutes he was already banging on my door. I looked out the peephole before opening just to be sure that it was him. As soon as I saw his concerned face, I pulled the door open, and there stood my brother in all his gear.

  “What’s goin’ on, sis? What you need my help with?” he asked, stepping into the apartment.

  “Come with me,” I said, pulling him in the bathroom’s direction.

  I pointed to the mirror as we walked into the bathroom, but the message had already disappeared as if it had never been there. “No, no, no,” I cried, turning on the shower again, trying to steam up the room, but it did little good. The water was cold.

  “Dammit. Why did everyone in the building have to shower now?” I m
umbled.

  “What is it?” he asked, frowning.

  “The message. It—it’s gone.”

  “What message? Becca, what are you talking about?” Chris looked at me with deep concern.

  I blew out a breath, deciding if I should tell my brother or not. I had kept Jace a secret from my family for a reason I never knew, and I was seeing that this might have been it.

  “Becca, what is it?” he asked again.

  I blew out a breath and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, putting my head in my hands. “Oh, man. I started seeing this guy, Jace, six, maybe seven months ago. Things were going fine, until a week ago. He got a little violent with me in the kitchen, and I haven’t heard from him since. Over the past few days, I’ve noticed things. He’s been messaging me like crazy. I never respond, but not only that, on a number of occasions I’ve felt like I’m being followed. Things are being moved around my office, and today when I got out of the shower, the words ‘not over you’ were written on the mirror,” I cried.

  “Does he have a key?”

  I shook my head. “No, I never gave him a key. I didn’t trust him enough. Chris, what do I do?” I cried, the panic rising in me.

  “Okay, well, first thing, don’t panic. Did it look like anything else had been disturbed when you came home?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I never really paid any attention.”

  Chris looked around the apartment—my bedroom, the kitchen where he ran his hand over the dent in the drywall, and in closets before he took a seat on the couch. “All right, get in touch with the building’s super and have the locks changed immediately, just in case he got hold of one of your keys and had a copy made.”

 

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