by Chris Taylor
“Yes, he’s my uncle, my father’s identical twin brother. I believe he changed his name to Leslie O’Brien awhile ago.”
“Yes.” The detective looked down at the notebook in his hand and then looked at Morgan again. Her anxiety hitched up a notch.
“How well do you know your uncle?”
Once again, Morgan was filled with confusion and apprehension. “Not very well. The truth is, I didn’t even know he existed until I arrived in town ten days ago. They’re twins. Apparently, they were separated at birth.”
The detective continued to stare at her. Morgan sighed and shook her head. “It’s a long story and quite a strange one, but there’s no denying the facts. Uncle Leslie looks just like my dad. Anyone who didn’t know either of them well would be hard pressed to tell them apart.”
“That explains the shoe imprints,” the detective murmured, almost as an aside.
Morgan came to attention. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father’s vehicle was found abandoned on the edge of town. We made a plaster impression of the shoe imprints left in the mud nearby. They were identical to the shoes worn by your uncle when he was arrested a few hours ago for two counts of attempted murder. He claims the shoes belong to his brother, that he’s been borrowing some of his clothes.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Morgan confirmed. “I’ve seen Uncle Leslie wearing some of Dad’s things.”
The detective’s expression turned grave. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Fear slammed into her and all of sudden, she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to put her hands up over her ears and squeeze her eyes shut, block out the rest of the world. But she couldn’t do any of those things.
“W-what are you saying?” she stammered, wishing Colt was there by her side.
“We executed a search warrant on your father’s house an hour ago. We found your father.”
Shock and amazement barreled through her. Her mouth gaped open in hope. “You found him? He made it home?”
“No, I’m sorry, Ms O’Brien. We found his remains. He’s no longer alive. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that he’s been dead for some time. There was a rug nailed to the floor between the kitchen counter and the sink. We found blood spatter on the cupboards nearby. The rug seemed odd, fixed to the floor like that. We tore it off and found more blood staining the floorboards. Some of them were loose. We pried them up and found your dad buried underneath the house. We’re waiting for the coroner to give us his formal findings on how your father died, but he had two bullet holes in his head.”
A buzzing noise started in Morgan’s ears and then filled every space in her head. She tried to focus on the detective, but he was nothing more than a dark, blurred shape. She thought she could see his mouth moving, but no more words reached her ears.
The shock of everything that had happened finally took its toll. With a gasp and a cry, her legs went out from under her and she crumpled to the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Three months later
As her new husband slid the satin-covered buttons of her wedding dress out of their tiny holes, Morgan felt a rush of nerves. They hadn’t slept together since Colt had gotten down on one knee and proposed. At first, it had been a matter of practicality. Colt had suffered a serious gunshot wound that had torn muscles and ligaments in his chest and back. Morgan was also injured. Between the two of them, it had been all they could do to hold each other close and take comfort from the fact they’d survived a terrible ordeal.
But as they both healed, they came to a mutual decision to remain chaste until the day they married. Their coming together as a couple had taken more than a decade. They wanted to savor every moment and build the excitement and anticipation until they could finally consummate their love as husband and wife. That had been three months earlier and Morgan was now wound as tight as a guitar string. She couldn’t imagine how he felt.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but after the weeks turned into months and they were desperate to touch each other, its importance to them had paled. Still, they’d managed to get by with kisses that had turned increasingly hot. Now the time had come to an end and Morgan couldn’t wait.
Colt pushed the white satin confection off her shoulders and it slithered over her hips. At the same time, she reached for his dress shirt and quickly dispensed with it. She ran her hands over his naked chest, all golden and rippling with muscle. She touched the puckered scar that was still red and pronounced and sent a prayer of thanks heavenwards that he’d survived the attempt on his life. Even now, it distressed her to know that it was her uncle who’d inflicted the damage. She was grateful the man would spend at least the next two decades behind bars.
Every time she thought of what he’d done to her dad, she got angry all over again. Her father’s body had been exhumed and properly buried in the cemetery next to her mom. Morgan had been heartbroken at the thought of what had happened, but for her own peace of mind and those around her, she’d let it go and was slowly accepting her dad was gone.
The only shining light amidst the tragedy was that it brought her and Colt closer than ever. Knowing how near they’d come to losing their lives had somehow strengthened the bond between them and Colt was determined to commit himself to her, put down roots, start a family. It was like he’d had an epiphany and he realized just how short life really was and was determined to make every moment count – to embrace it, challenges and all.
Morgan was more than happy to support him. She gave notice at the Sydney Harbour Hospital and packed up her house. She loved the city, but she loved Colt more and she also felt the need to remain close to her dad. Though she’d rented an apartment in Armidale, she and Colt were already on the lookout for their first home. Morgan couldn’t bear the thought of returning to the house she’d grown up in and had listed it for sale. The place held so many happy memories, but it had been tarnished forevermore. She wanted somewhere new and fresh where she and Colt could make memories of their own.
“Hey, are you all right?”
The softly voiced question from her husband intruded into Morgan’s thoughts. She blinked and forced them away. This was her wedding night. There was nothing and no one, but Colt.
She nodded and smiled and pressed a soft kiss against his skin. “You feel so good,” she murmured.
“Three months never felt so long,” he muttered, nuzzling her hair. “Whose crazy idea was that anyway?” he teased.
She laughed softly and stroked the flat planes of his belly with her fingers and lower, across the thin line of dark hair that snaked into his pants. It was like discovering him all over again. The thought filled her with equal parts excitement and shyness. It seemed like she’d known him forever and yet, she hardly knew him at all.
And now, they would finally be together – forever until they were parted in death. Their vows meant so much more to them, knowing how close they’d both come to dying.
In the dimness of the honeymoon suite in the best hotel Armidale had to offer, she gazed up at her husband and saw love and joy and amazement reflected in his eyes. As if in slow motion, she watched his head descend.
His lips touched hers, softly, sweetly and the tenderness in his kiss almost brought tears to her eyes. She returned the pressure of his mouth and her hands crept around his neck. She clung to him and kissed him with all the passion she held inside. He groaned and hot, sweet need ignited inside her.
As if reading her mind, Colt bent and lifted her in his arms. He walked to the king-sized bed and placed her on it then immediately followed her down. The lamps on the nightstand shed soft light and bathed them in a golden glow. Colt kissed her again and again until she didn’t know how much longer she could stand it.
Everywhere he touched her, she burned with desire. She yearned to feel skin on skin. In silence, he reached around and unclasped her white lace bra and tossed it away and then tugged on the skirt of her dress. She lifted her hips and the dress slid lowe
r until at last she could kick it away. She thought fleetingly of the five thousand-dollar price tag but forgot about it the moment Colt touched her again.
Naked, apart from her panties and stockings, his hand caressed her from top to bottom. Starting at her neck, his fingers slid over her skin and paused at her breasts. He teased her nipples with the pad of his thumb and sighed in appreciation when they puckered into hard little nubs. His tongue swept over them and she couldn’t hold back a gasp.
The sensation of his hot, wet tongue against her nipples was something beyond exquisite. His hands moved lower, skimming her ribcage to caress the soft skin of her belly. His mouth followed the path of his hands and trailed hot kisses along her hip. He edged closer to her center and when he buried his face against the juncture of her thighs, she almost cried out in relief.
During the short time they’d been together, more than a decade ago, they hadn’t engaged in oral sex. Now, as his tongue licked the soft skin of her inner lips and moved lower, she was beset by the most incredible sensations she’d ever experienced.
He unclasped her stockings and rolled them down until they gathered at her feet. Next, he slid down her panties and she helped him by kicking them off. He positioned himself between her legs and once again stroked in and out with his tongue. Up and down, round and round until she felt like she was going to explode. Over and over, his tongue made magic and all she could do was hold on. Her fingers, buried in his hair, held him in place and all the while little mewling sounds of need escaped her.
“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice low and husky with need.
“Oh, Colt. It feels…amazing. No one’s ever done that to me before.”
A smile of satisfaction lit up his handsome face and he returned to his task with renewed enthusiasm. The need inside her burned hotter until it was almost out of control. Her orgasm built and with it, the pressure, until she could stand it no more. Reaching the peak, she toppled over, crying out as she went free-falling over the cliff. Colt held her hips and stroked her until the very end of her orgasm.
When it was over, he lifted his head and stared up at her with eyes heavy lidded with desire. She was overwhelmed with love and the need to help him find his release.
“My turn,” she whispered and moved so that he was lying flat on his back.
She undid his belt buckle and tugged the leather out of the belt loops. Next, she undid the button on his pants and slid down the zip. He wore black satin boxers and they were soft as a newborn’s cheek. His erection strained against the fabric and she couldn’t resist a caress.
His cock was rock hard and warm to the touch and filled her with another surge of need. She couldn’t believe she wanted him again, having only just found her release. She took hold of his clothing and tugged it down and he lifted his hips to help her. A moment later, they were skin to skin from head to toe and both of them groaned with relief.
“You feel so good,” he growled and tightened his hold on her.
“So do you,” she whispered.
His erection pressed insistently against her belly and she slid down over his body. Her breasts skimmed over his chest, his stomach and then finally teased his cock. She bent her head and grazed the moist tip with her tongue. He offered murmured encouragement, and emboldened, she did it again.
This time, she took the whole of him all the way into her mouth. Sucking and licking, she caressed his shaft with one hand and cupped his heavy balls with the other.
“Morgan… Hell… That feels so good… Don’t stop.”
She renewed her efforts, pleased with his reaction and was rewarded with another groan.
“I want to come inside you,” he said, his eyes shadowed with need.
She released him and moved back up to press a kiss against his mouth. He kissed her back with a ferocity that sent fire rushing once again through her veins. Desire burned. She wanted him all over again.
He moved until she lay beneath him and then positioned himself between her thighs. With his gaze locked on hers, inch by inch, he eased into her slick warmth. They groaned together at the blissful feel of the two of them finally becoming one. It was like the vows they’d said before the priest that day were echoing through the room.
“Aren’t you glad you waited?” she whispered, almost overwhelmed by love and joy.
“More than glad. You feel exquisite. It feels like our very first time.”
Tears filled her eyes and she smiled at him. She’d never felt so loved. He was her husband, her lover, her confidante and would be until the end of time.
“I love you, Morgan Barrington. I’ll love you until the day I die.”
EPILOGUE
Dear Diary,
Four gray walls surround me, two bunk beds with thin mattresses and even thinner blankets. I’m sitting in a jail cell, waiting for my day in court. My lawyer has advised me to plead guilty. The evidence against me is stacked way high, or so he says.
But I was born a fighter and I’ll fight for my freedom until the very end. I refuse to lay down and die. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten away with murder…
I can still see the flames as they rushed through the rooms of the house where I used to live. Knowing my parents were trapped inside was the sweetest feeling ever. Even sweeter than the discovery I had a brother…
Things could have turned out so differently. They should have turned out differently. Morgan O’Brien ruined all my plans. I have returned to where I came from, with nothing but the clothes on my back. Even those belong to my brother – Rex O’Brien – the man who had everything.
Two parents who loved him more than they loved me. A wife and family, a good job. A house in a nice city, people who counted him as a friend. He lived a charmed life, while I had nothing.
Everything I was entitled to he stole from me at birth. Instead of a loving family, I was tossed over to sorry-assed adoptive parents who didn’t want me from the start. I was destined for trouble and that’s exactly what I got. I relished acting out. As a kid, it got me the attention that I craved. It didn’t matter that it was the wrong kind. Any attention’s better than none, right?
Morgan O’Brien knows nothing of that. She’s an only child. The much loved, much wanted daughter of my very much loved and wanted son. I was the one who was discarded like a piece of trash. I was the one who had to fight for every scrap of attention, for every morsel of love.
When I discovered I had an identical twin brother, I was beside myself with excitement. Then I did a little research on the Internet at the local library and I discovered Rex O’Brien was quite the catch. A well-respected, recently retired lawyer who lived in a respectable part of town. I found a photo of him at his farewell dinner, taken by the Armidale Express.
I couldn’t believe how much we looked alike. It was like looking in the mirror. He didn’t look quite as rough around the edges as me, but then, he’d had a much easier life. It was then the idea came to me and I dug around a little more. I discovered his wife had died of cancer and that he now spent his days alone. The newspaper article mentioned a daughter who lived in Sydney who visited when she could, but according to her father, she was busy with her career and often couldn’t spare the time.
It all sounded so perfect. The daughter sounded like a brat. I didn’t think I’d have any problem dealing with her. I thought she’d stay in Sydney, surrounded by her comfortable life and I could go on my merry way.
I learned from Rex that he often stayed in contact with her by email. The information made me smile and I continued to make my plans. I’d email the brat of a daughter and keep her thinking the messages were coming from her dad. Over time, he’d tell her all about his long-lost twin brother, the brother he never knew he had and eventually he’d write about the trip he was taking – a trip to the outback where, sadly, he’d never return.
I intended to steal his identity, we were identical twins, after all. Identical in every way but our fingerprints, right down to our DNA. It would hav
e been so easy. But then, Morgan O’Brien arrived in town and I was forced to come up with a better plan. And I did.
With the two of them dead, I’d be the closest surviving family member. I would inherit everything. It was perfect. Life was so sweet.
But the best laid plans can come unstuck and that’s exactly what happened to me.
Morgan O’Brien. My nemesis… All I can say is this: Watch your back, brat.
NOTE TO READERS
I do hope you have enjoyed reading Colt and Morgan’s story. If you’ve enjoyed this book, please feel free to leave a review for The Stolen Identity at Goodreads and your favorite digital retailer. Every review is very much appreciated.
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I love to receive feedback from my readers. Please feel free to contact me at chris@ christaylorauthor.com.au
The Cliff Top Killer is the next book in the Sydney Harbour Hospital Series.
Here’s a sneak peek:
Midwife Shelby Gianopoulos is feeling desperate. Single and alone at twenty-eight, she has spent many a family gathering fending off the increasing concern from her well-meaning relatives. Now, there’s another family wedding looming and Shelby’s desperate to find a date. She can’t bear the thought of being the brunt of more pitying looks and outright confrontations.
Doctor Samuel Munro is the perfect choice. Good-looking, young and single, he sets female hearts aflutter all over the Sydney Harbour Hospital. Though she barely knows him, Shelby is relieved when he agrees to accompany her to the wedding and pretend that they’re in love. Little does she know they’re not the only ones pretending…
Alexei Gianopolous, a senior partner at Harton & Wentworth, is living a double life. When Shelby discovers her father’s secret, he stuns her even more by telling her Shelby’s mother knows all about it. Toss in the fact that Shelby’s brother has just come out to her and it’s little wonder her mind is in a spin.
