See No Evil: Part One (See No Evil #1)

by Chantal Fernando

  SEE

  NO

  EVIL

  by

  Chantal Fernando

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyrighted material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission from the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  CHANTAL FERNANDO

  Published December 2016

  Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  SEE NO EVIL is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offense to the content, as it is FICTION.

  Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders, The authors acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Copyright © 2016 Chantal Fernando

  All rights reserved.

  Dedication

  To you,

  The one who sees what I haven’t shown,

  Hears what I haven’t said,

  And knows that my eyes give everything away.

  My muse.

  Thank you for being you.

  Acknowledgements

  A big thank you to Arijana Karcic at Cover It! Designs for your amazing talent and friendship. I kind of love you. You’re seriously the best.

  To Rose Tawil—Thank you so much for everything. I wouldn’t be able to function without you! You are one of the best souls I’ve ever come across.

  My beta reader Leeann Wright—thank you so much for your help. You are the best!

  Hot Tree Editing—Thank you for being so wonderful to work with.

  To my bestie Natalie Ram—Thank you for being the ultimate proof reader, and helping me whenever I need it, even though you’re super busy being your own girl boss. Love you, Mami.

  To my family—my parents, my sisters and my sons—I love you all.

  To my readers—I hope you love this book as much as I did writing it.

  Prologue

  Sylar

  “Can we go and play?” I ask my uncle, staring longingly outside, where the sun is shining brightly. We have a pool, and all I want to do is go swimming. Maybe Spencer will shoot some hoops with me afterwards.

  “After you show me you can do this, Sylar. Come on, stop being so distracted.”

  I inwardly groan, then throw the knife one-handed at the target in one skilled, quick movement.

  Bull’s-eye.

  Of course I can do this. I’m the best student he has. At fourteen, I’m big for my age, and I excel in martial arts and weaponry. I overheard my uncle say I’m going to be an asset.

  “Am I done now?” I ask him, and he nods.

  I quickly leave, passing my youngest brother, Sebastian, on the way. As usual, his head is in his books.

  “You okay, little brother?” I ask him, messing his hair as I pass him. “Want to come for a swim?”

  He closes his book and stands. “Yes.”

  I smile, then look around for Spencer, our middle brother. I find him training outside, practicing his kicks, and ask him if he wants to join us.

  “Am I allowed to stop?” he asks me, glancing around as if scared of being told off.

  I nod, even though I’m not sure. No one will touch him though. I will make sure of that. My brothers are my responsibility to look after.

  I’m the eldest, and I’m the strongest.

  And unlike them, I remember what life was like before this.

  I will also be the one to get them out of this. They’re going to live normal, happy lives. They’re going to be loved.

  Not trained and used as weapons.

  I will make sure of this.

  Chapter One

  I lift my head when I see him walk into my café. He’s a very tall man. Tall and built. He commands attention from everyone around him, but probably not in a good way. People don’t admire this man. They fear him. This is the third time he’s come here in the last week; he must be new to town. No one other than me wants to serve him, and it’s not that I necessarily want to, but I am the owner of the establishment, and it’s up to me to make sure all patrons are taken care of. Equally. It doesn’t matter how imposing or scary this man seems¸ or that it feels like he sucks up all the oxygen in the room. He’s still just a man. For all we know he could be the nicest man in the world. Appearances don’t mean anything. I don’t think it’s his tattoos that cause people to take a step back—I actually like his many tattoos—it’s more his vibe. He has an “everyone fuck off and leave me alone” standoffishness about him, and people heed that warning.

  “Good morning,” I say to him. “What can I get for you?”

  He swipes his hand down his thick, dark beard, looking up at the menu on the board, even though I’ve noticed that he’s ordered the same thing every time so far. His eyes are pale blue. I could stare at them all day.

  He doesn’t say good morning back, and I’ve learnt not to expect it from him.

  “Long black,” he says, not looking me in the eye. He pulls his wallet out and takes out some money while I ring the order up.

  “That’s five dollars,” I tell him, our fingers brushing as the money is exchanged. I like that he puts it in my hand though; I think it’s rude when people simply leave money on the table. He retracts his hand quickly and shoves it in his pocket. When I try and give him his five dollars change, he shakes his head and nods toward the tip jar.

  “Thanks,” I say, shoving the note inside. Someone who always tips so much can’t be that bad. I make his coffee and then place it in front of him. “Hope you have a nice day.”

  “You too,” he mutters, gaze on his coffee. When he leaves, it’s like all the air returns to the room. He’s a good-looking man, albeit a little scruffy. I get the impression that his looks mean nothing to him, and it’s almost like he wants to hide them under his beard, shaggy dark hair, and loose black clothing.

  But I see him.

  “Bree, can I go on break now?” Christina asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “Or do you want to have yours first?” I turn to look at her, and nod.

  “You can go. I’m not even hungry yet.”

  “Thanks,” she says, as she pours herself some coffee. “I’m starving. And I had a huge breakfast. Why can’t I stop eating?”

  All my employees get free coffee and a meal when they’re on shift. I like to look after them, and they work hard for me in return. Christina and her twin brother, Charlie, have both become close friends of mine, but they never use that to their advantage at wor
k. Sure, we joke around a lot, and act silly when no one else is here, but we also provide amazing customer service and work our asses off. We’re a very productive team, and I truly think they are assets to my small business.

  “I don’t know,” I say, smirking at her. “But you never put on any weight, so don’t complain.”

  She grins and runs her gaze down my body. “Neither do you.”

  “Yeah, but you know how much I exercise,” I say, groaning. I don’t have a very cooperative body; I have to work hard to keep it the way I like it. Luckily for me, I actually enjoy running. I find it therapeutic.

  “True.” Christina smirks, taking a sip of her coffee, her brown eyes staying on me. “So what’s the deal with that guy?”

  “What guy?”

  She nods to the door. “The guy. The creepy hot one.”

  “Creepy hot?” I ask, laughing. “The shit you say, Christina.”

  “Well, he is,” she says, shrugging. “I’m going to make a sandwich out back.”

  She walks into the kitchen, leaving me manning the front counter alone. I glance around the mostly empty café and lean my elbows on the counter. This place is my own little slice of heaven. It was my parents’ business, until they handed it to me and went into retirement. I’ve been running it for two years now, ever since I was twenty-six years old.

  “Hey, Bree,” Charlie says as he walks in. Dressed in black, like the rest of us, his hair is neatly brushed back, his brown eyes warm and friendly. I look down to his hands, where he’s holding his helmet. “I suppose I’m not in trouble for being late, considering the place is dead.”

  I glance at the clock on the wall. “I don’t think you’ll be fired for being two minutes late, Charlie.”

  “Excellent,” he says, coming behind the counter and kissing me on the cheek. “Where is that sister of mine?”

  “Stuffing her face in the back,” I say, smiling at him.

  “Standard,” is his reply, making me laugh.

  “As if you can talk.” I smirk at him and lift my finger. “And don’t tell me you’re a growing boy. You’re twenty-five. I think the growing is done.”

  “Fine, I’m just a hungry-ass man then,” he states, glancing over the café.

  I nod. “That sounds about right.”

  “Who else is on this afternoon?” he asks, bringing his eyes back to me.

  “Christina and I are leaving in an hour, and then Tori and Elijah will come in,” I tell him. “If there’re any problems—”

  “Just give you a call,” he inserts. “I know, Bree. We’ve got this under control. You can spend the rest of the day relaxing, instead of thinking up every single scenario that could possibly go wrong. Nothing is going to go wrong. I will close up, and tomorrow morning when you arrive, the place will still be standing.”

  “I know it will,” I say, not wanting him to think I don’t think he’s capable. I’m just a worrier; it’s what I do. “I’m just saying, you can call me if you need me.”

  “I know,” he says, amusement flashing in his gaze. A customer walks in and Charlie goes to serve her while I make sure everything is stocked for the rest of the day. Time passes quickly, and soon Christina and I are heading out the door.

  “Do you want to get a drink or something later?” she asks, stopping by my car.

  I glance back to the café. “What, like a coffee?”

  “No,” she says, smirking. “I know you don’t like day dates. One with more of a… kick. And by a kick I mean a shot of vodka.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” I reply, laughing. “A drink sounds good. How’s seven?”

  That gives me plenty of time to head home and play with my dog, Snoop, and do a little work on my house. I’ve been renovating it, or at least trying to do as much as I can at my own pace, only calling in professionals when I really need to.

  It keeps me busy when I’m not at work.

  I say bye to Christina then get in my car and drive home.

  *****

  “He’s staring at you again,” Christina points out, smirking into her drink. “Can he make it any more obvious?”

  Living in a small town, everyone knows everyone, and even if they don’t, they know something about everyone. The man Christina is referring to, Paul, owns a few businesses in town, including a supermarket and a barbershop. I’ve never spoken to him before, but I haven’t heard the best things about him, including that he’s not a very kind boss. I think that alone speaks volumes about him.

  “Not interested,” I grumble, finishing my drink and sliding it to the middle of the table. “I’m happy to be twenty-eight and single. I don’t care how much shit my mum gives me about it.”

  And that would be a lot.

  When are you going to give us grandchildren, Brielle?

  Being an only child comes with a lot of pressure, but I’m sorry, it doesn’t look like they’ll be getting grandkids anytime soon. Times are changing. Women are taking on different roles. Sure, I’d love to have a kid one day, but I’m not going to jump into a relationship with just anyone to make that happen. My experience with men tells me that my chances of finding “the one” are about as likely as me getting pregnant.

  A big not at all.

  I’m sure there are good men out there, just not in my general vicinity. I don’t plan on moving to the city, and I don’t think any man would move here to this sleepy town just for me, so right now, my café is my love. I enjoy my life just as it is. Good friends, a roof over my head, and food on my table; how can I possibly complain? So I’m not having any hot sex, but hey, they created toys so I can take care of that by myself too. Might not be as fun… okay, nowhere near as fun, but what can you do? I’m going through a dry spell, an extremely dry one, and I just need to push through it. Last year wasn’t dry at all. After breaking up with my ex-boyfriend, I kind of went a little wild, playing the field and having a little fun, but now? Those times are just memories.

  “I’m so happy I’m only twenty-five,” Christina says, ignoring my scowl. “When you hit thirty I’ll still be young for three more years.”

  “Thanks for that,” I mutter, glancing at the bar longingly, but feeling too lazy to move to buy another round.

  “At least you still look twenty,” she continues, shrugging. “Gotta look at the pros, right? I’d say that’s a big one. Do you want me to go and order you another drink?”

  “I’ll wait until you finish yours,” I say, apparently more of an alcoholic than she is.

  “Oh fuck,” she mutters, her brown eyes going wide as saucers. “He’s coming over here.”

  “Who?” I ask, turning to look.

  “Don’t look!” She groans, but it’s too late as I watch Paul approach us.

  “Hello, ladies,” he says, sitting down on the seat in between us without even asking if it’s okay. “How are you both doing tonight?”

  I look to Christina, who has no problem talking to anyone or anybody, hoping she will reply so I don’t have to, but she actually stays silent this time.

  “We’re doing fine, thanks,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “I’m Paul,” he says, offering me, then Christina, his hand.

  “Bree,” I say, giving him nothing else.

  “I’m Christina,” my friend says, shaking her head and studying him. “Nice to meet you, Paul.”

  “Pleasure is all mine,” he says, flashing his teeth. “Can I get either of you a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” I quickly say, knowing Christina has no problem with free drinks, but I, on the other hand, do, and I don’t want him to think that I’m interested in any way.

  “So what do the two of you do? I’ve seen you around town before,” he says, looking between us. He’s probably asking this so he gets the chance to talk about himself and brag about the businesses he owns.

  “I’m a student and work in a café,” Christina says, finishing her drink off. “Nothing too interesting. Bree works with me.”

  “Right,” he says, nodding.
“I own a few businesses around here, so if you’re ever looking for a job….”

  Bingo.

  “Cool,” Christina says, dragging out the word. “Well, we’re going to head to the bar. It was nice meeting you though.”

  She stands and nods to the bar. I follow her. Paul scrambles back to his own table, where his two friends are waiting for him.

  “More vodka?” she asks, pulling out her purse.

  “All the vodka.”

  “Shame. He’s actually decent looking,” she murmurs, pursing her lips.

  He is, even I’ll admit that. If I didn’t know anything about him, I’d think he was good-looking and maybe even charming. However, one of the girls who works for him in the supermarket comes in for coffee every day, and the poor thing looks miserable. I like to treat people how they treat me, but in this case, even if he’s nothing but super nice to me, I don’t think I can respect a man who is awful to his own employees, taking advantage of his position of power. Sharon told me that he pretty much works them into the ground with nothing but a crappy wage and a terrible environment in return.

  “With a side of sleaze,” I add, puffing out a breath.

  Christina throws her head back and laughs. “You totally nailed it there. He’s totally a sleaze. Has that slimy vibe to him.”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s a tough life being a babe,” she adds, grinning, then orders us two more drinks.

  “One guy approaches us, one who would probably approach anything with tits and ass, and it’s a tough life?” I ask her, laughing.

  She nods to behind me. “Who said it was just one guy?”

  Two men come over and introduce themselves. Christina humours them, answering their questions, while I stay quiet, only speaking when spoken to directly. I smile when I can, so I don’t seem so rude, but truly I’d rather do anything than make small talk with these men.

  I have to wonder, is dating this awful outside of small towns?

  Chapter Two

  “Long black,” he says, looking down as he pulls his wallet out of his black jeans pocket. I’m alone at work this morning, at least for the next hour, but I don’t feel unsafe with the man in front of me.