by Koko Brown
Divided Heart: Queens of Kings: Book 2
Protected Heart: Queens of Kings Book 3
Unrestrained: A Duology by Shyla Colt & LaQuette
My Beginning: Trinity Series: Book 1
Love’s Changes
NEWSLETTER SIGNUP
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DRIVE HER
BRIDGET MIDWAY
Drive Her
Fresh from a twelve-year stint in prison, Russell Griffing is looking to start his life over with the money owed to him for taking the fall for his former boss. When he discovers that he’s been stiffed, he’s looking to exact some revenge, even if that means hurting someone important to his boss. When the man he used to work for offers him a job to pick up his daughter from the airport, Russell finds the offer too good to be true.
Victoria Crandall knows she has a target on her back. After her mother’s untimely death under suspicious circumstances, she now owns all of her mother’s businesses and has become an instant billionaire. She suspects her father may have had a hand in her mother’s death, and may be trying to take her out as well to gain control. She needs an ally. When she sees a man who used to work for her father waiting for her at the airport, she sees an opportunity to have someone watch her back.
As Russell and Victoria spend time together, they are learning that they are not so different. It also helps that their previous sexual tension they had before his incarceration is even stronger now.
When all is said and done, can they trust each other to find love?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to the readers, who keep me motivated to produce good works and keep loving the weird pieces of fiction I offer you. Thank you to Koko Brown who asked me to be a part of this wonderful project, which pushed me outside of my comfort zone. I hope you all enjoy it. A big thank you to my one and only bad boy, The Jimmy. He supports me like no other. I love you.
There’s no honor among thieves and con artists, and no rest for the wicked, but can there be love?
Stay Sexy,
BridgeT
ONE
Russell Griffing kept his stare on a gigantic cockroach facing the corner on the dirty tile floor. If the insect’s antennae hadn’t twitched on occasion, he would have thought he devoted his attention to something that had died.
As he sat in the cramped meeting space that the prison had provided for him to meet with his parole officer, Russell slid his foot back, causing the roach to jump. It remained in its spot, probably weighing out the impending dangers. Could it escape without a scratch if necessary? Russell would have to do that on the outside now.
“You have to call me on the regular.” Dana Overstreet rubbed her nose before coughing and then clearing her throat.
Russell recognized a smoker’s cough when he heard it. Always full of phlegm. He knew the unhealthy results of smoking in himself. Nearly thirteen years of staying away from the bad addiction cleared him up from the cough, the stench, and the headaches.
Dana kept her head down as she reviewed paperwork in front of her. “The bus will take you out of here. You heading back to Tidewater?”
He kept his stare on the roach when he answered. “Yeah.”
Russell had some loose ends to tie up there, but his parole officer didn’t need to know his full plans. He broke his attention from the nuisance in the corner to look at the woman who he would be dealing with for an extended period of time.
With his past and who he rolled with, Russell figured he would have a long-term relationship with an African-American woman. He didn’t imagine it would be with a lesbian parole officer who would be all in his business whether he wanted her there or not.
“The warden said you know about your mom.” For the first time since coming into the room, Dana brought her gaze up to regard him. Her brown eyes still looked dead, but she did her best to appear mournful for his sake. “Sorry, man.”
Russell didn’t need her condolences. He had made a determination as soon as he had gotten arrested that he wouldn’t need anyone. However, to appease his new warden and to keep this meeting moving, he gave her a simple nod.
“Do you have a phone?” Dana checked some items off on the papers that sat in front of her.
Russell peered over at a bag that the prison had given him before this meeting. The black plastic bag held the only items he had left in this world, including a pair of Timberland boots that now felt tight on his feet, jeans that were way too constricting for him to fit, a black button-down shirt that used to be a bit big for him back in the day, a Rolex watch, his old wallet that now held an expired driver’s license, a stack of returned mail, and his flip phone. That damn flip phone started all his problems.
“No. No phone.” Russell shook his head.
Dana huffed and reached into an all-black backpack she used as a briefcase. She pulled out a business card and scribbled something on the back of it before handing it to Russell.
“My numbers are on the card. Office, fax, cell. I put my personal cell phone number on the back.”
Russell wanted to laugh at the fact that even his p.o. rocked two cell phones. He thought the days of doing that had long been gone.
She continued. “It also has my email address. You can hit me up that way.”
Email? Russell hadn’t used that in years. He doubted if his old address still worked, and if it did, he couldn’t remember his password anyway. Just like with everything else, he would have to start all over again.
Russell picked up the card and shoved it in his front pants pocket where he kept the only money he had in the world…right now. He hoped once he got out and could get to his bank, he would have the money owed to him for taking this hit.
“The guards tell me after your mom passed a year ago, you didn’t get any letters or packages, and you never got any visitors. You have a place to stay when you get home?” Dana leaned back in the black steel folding chair, and it creaked under her weight.
Russell nodded, but he knew he would have nothing because Belle Griffing had nothing. He remembered the dilapidated shack she rented in Virginia Beach that she tried to make as homey as possible. She had always struggled to survive when she didn’t have to, if she would have only accepted the money Russell had rolling in while he worked. “Crooked cash,” she used to call it.
“Staying with Quinton?” Dana’s eyebrows shot up.
He hadn’t heard his brother’s name in a while. Russell definitely hadn’t seen him. Long before his arrest, Russell had kept his distance from his baby brother. Quinton had gone away to college when Russell got caught with illegal drugs and guns. Knowing Belle Griffing, she probably told Quinton to stay away from Russell. Quinton had a future.
“No.” Truth be told, he didn’t know where his brother lived or how to find him.
That response seemed to concern Dana, who now cocked her head like a confused puppy. She reached back into her bag again and pulled out a few pieces of paper, all in different colors, and all bent and crumpled.
“Let’s see. Richmond. Northern Virginia. Western Virginia. Ah, Hampton Roads.” She discarded other pages as she read off names of Virginia locations before she shoved a yellow page toward him. “Here’s a list of transitional homes. If you want, I can call them for you to see if they have a bed.”
Russell dropped his gaze to the paper before looking at Dana. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he hated the idea of having to beg for help to stay at a halfway house.
He accepted the paper and folded it in half before putting it in his black plastic bag. “No. I’ll take care of it.”
Even with the last four-hundred dollars he had in his pocket, he would do what he could to make it on his own. Besides, he would be coming in to some big bucks soon. Thanks to this long-awaited payday, he would be able to take care of himself and get the hell out of the area.
D
ana smoothed her hand back through her hair. “Russell, are you sure you don’t want help? I know I don’t have to tell you this, but I wouldn’t be a good p.o. if I didn’t. As soon as you walk out of this place, you won’t be an inmate anymore. But you will always be a convicted felon. If folks aren’t hiring military veterans, you know they aren’t going to look out for felons. It’s going to be hard for you. Please tell me that while you were in here that you studied something or picked up a trade.”
Russell had a feeling his still facial expression answered her question. The few months he sat in jail and the twelve years he remained locked up in prison, Russell did nothing but look out for himself and count the days until he could get his reward. Why develop a back-up plan when he knew what would be waiting for him on the other side?
When Russell didn’t verbally answer, Dana filled in the blanks. “For your sake, I hope you’re able to do more than just say two words here and there.” She snickered and shook her head. “If you get a phone, let me know it. When you find a place to live, share the location with me. If you get a job, I need to know that. If you find you can’t get a job, let me know that, too. I may be able to help you. No guarantees.”
To show some appreciation, Russell nodded. Inside, he knew that if he didn’t get the money promised to him, he would have to find a job. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to get a job, not easily.
No way could he work some chicken-shit job as a produce picker or day laborer. Back in the day, he managed to pull in at least ten thousand a week. Of course, those times had been when he did illegal jobs that Belle hated.
Dana removed a pack of cigarettes from her backpack and tapped it against the table a couple of times before shoving it into her front shirt pocket. Russell took that as a sign that this meeting would be ending soon.
“I’m not going to lie, Griffing. Life is going to be hard for you out there.” Dana collected her papers, except for a few, and returned them to her backpack. “The world has changed so fast since your incarceration. It doesn’t work the same way it used to, and you’ll need to adapt quickly. There are two things I don’t want you to do once you get out.” She held up her index and middle fingers. “Don’t do anything illegal to get your ass brought back into the system. Most guys find that they can’t take real life once they get out, and think that life was better for them in the penal system. I mean, you’re fed in here, clothed, entertained on occasion, and given medical care.”
“Don’t forget the rapes and fights.” Nothing about Russell’s prison experience appealed to him. He would do everything in his power not to go back.
“Yeah. That, too.” She scratched her chin. “And two, don’t associate with anyone from our old life. Don’t look them up to say hi. Don’t stay with them if you can’t find a place to lay your head. And for God’s sake, don’t work for them again. You know and I know that if you do that, that’s a sure sign that one of two things will happen to you. Either you’ll get arrested again or…”
She trailed off, but Russell understood the gravity of the other option. Then again, if he had to go back to prison, he would prefer to die.
She flipped a couple of papers toward him. “Sign these two papers. One says I covered everything with you.” She pointed to the bottom of the page as though expecting Russell to sign a paper without reviewing it first.
He surprised her, apparent from her slack jaw, by picking it up and reading each item. Dana had done her job. She did cover the essentials and provided him with information to make sure he would be a productive member of society again. At the end, he signed the form.
The other form came from the prison severing their ties. That one, Russell happily signed.
Dana stood. “Any questions?” She held the forms in her hand.
Russell stood up. The jostling finally scared the cockroach enough that it managed to squeeze through a tiny crack in the corner. It had escaped. Now it would be Russell’s turn.
Despite his boots being tight, he would be damned if he walked out of this place wearing the shitty shoes the prison provided. He hated the fact that he had to wear pants and a shirt from them, but he didn’t have anything else that fit. Working out every day had bulked him up a lot more than he had expected.
“No. I understand everything.” He extended his hand to her first.
Dana blinked like she hadn’t been used to politeness from a convict. Russell hadn’t lost his manners, just his patience.
She shook his hand. “I really hope for the best for you.” This time, she seemed really sincere. While still holding his hand, Dana came around the table and pulled him in to a hug.
He hadn’t had a personal connection like that in years. It all seemed too much. On the one hand, he welcomed it. On the other, he couldn’t gauge the genuineness in it. Years away had made him jaded and suspicious of everyone.
Russell shrugged out of her embrace and pulled his hand back from her. “I appreciate that.”
“Remember, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
He nodded as he grabbed his things.
As he walked out the door toward the guard area to leave, he heard Dana say, “And don’t get in any trouble.”
She laughed, but he didn’t. Russell didn’t plan on making waves when he got out, but if he didn’t get what he expected, someone would get hurt, and he would take what he had been owed. If that meant someone had to die, so be it.
Victoria Crandall wrung her hands together. Sometimes the soothing motion calmed the shaking. From this point, she couldn’t show any kind of weakness.
Now satisfied with the stillness in her hands, she reached for the glass of vodka she’d poured for herself. Alcohol would be a temporary antidote to her problems.
She took a deep breath, taking in the stale air of her Las Vegas hotel room suite, her transitory sanctuary while she got her business in order. She needed this time away to figure out her battle plans, a fight she prepared to do without allies.
Usually after someone’s death, a person would want to stay close to home. Those people had options, had support, had true love. Victoria had to keep eyes in the back of her head to keep the wolves at bay.
Stay strong.
Her temporary retreat to the other side of the country would only do her for a short while. Eventually, she would have to go home. She now had businesses to run. Her life had changed.
Twinkling lights of the Vegas strip glittered through the window. She swallowed hard, then remembered something an old friend used to tell her.
“Hold your head up,” he would say. “Look like you mean business.”
Victoria steeled her nerves and raised her head as she held the glass with a design etched around the base. She ran her fingers over the raised pattern. Moving her thumb over the bumpy texture calmed her racing heart.
The flight on the private jet from Virginia to Nevada had been relatively smooth. She would take a few days on her own before going back home. Then her real battle would begin.
When the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, she stopped her movements and observed her surroundings. Her intuition rarely failed her. This moment wouldn’t be different.
Victoria stared at the door, waiting. Anticipating.
Five. Four. Three. Two.
The knock on the door shouldn’t have surprised her, but Victoria’s breath caught. She remained quiet while she calculated in her head the possible scenarios.
Take fucking control of the situation. Show them who’s boss.
Before Victoria could act on her bravado, a voice stilled her again.
“Ms. Crandall. It’s Lenny. Please open up.”
She knew the voice, just not the intention. Instead of responding to the guest, she poured herself a second glass of vodka. At this stage in her life, she would do things on her time.
He knocked again. “This is ridiculous, ma’am. Please open the door.”
Silence again.
Victoria didn’t move. The fact that he c
alled her ma’am and said please didn’t escape her attention. Did he really mean his use of the respectful tag, or did he say it to draw her out?
“If you would like, I can make a call to Crush to get you to—”
“Shit.” She marched to the door and opened it before he could finish his underlying threat. “Get the hell away from me or I’ll call the cops. I don’t need your protection.”
“I don’t think you want any police involvement.” The towering, dark-skinned man scanned her from head to toe as though assessing her. The fact that he looked like a young, thin version of her father reminded her of the life she tried to leave.
Lenny kept his hands clasped in front of his body. Coupled with his black suit and black tie, he looked like he had either come from a funeral – like she had – or worked for the Secret Service. Since she knew who he worked for, she knew the second possibility wouldn’t be the case.
As though she hadn’t spoken, he continued addressing her like he had a job to do. “I’m assuming you are going downstairs for dinner. Are you going to change?” When Lenny spoke, his straight, white teeth glowed against his skin.
The lights in the hallway bounced off his shaved head.
Victoria took a couple of steps toward him and stopped. She didn’t want to believe that her hesitation had anything to do with fear. At this point, she didn’t need to start second guessing herself. “How did you even know I was here?”
“Come on. It’s not like you chartered your own plane. You know who the pilot works for and who the jet belongs to.” Lenny cocked his head as he addressed her.
Victoria felt small in his stare, like he regarded her like a child. He’d been sent there to chastise her, a thirty-year-old woman. The man had no idea of the danger in his assumptions. Out of his view, she reached behind her back to retrieve her trusty Glock. The empty space where it should have been nestled against her skin reminded her that she hadn’t brought it with her.
