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Stella: (Book #2.5, The Razer Series)

Page 12

by K A Sands


  He wasted no time. “Stella.”

  Again, no surprise. I nodded, having already guessed why he was here at a silly hour in the morning. Hopefully they’d throw away the key to her jail cell and she’d never see the light of day again. I could feel my sedate mood rising in temperature.

  “You’re still listed as her next of kin.”

  I dropped the spoonful of sugar into my mug and snapped my head up to look at him. “Next of kin?” I repeated, not quite comprehending his meaning.

  “Her body was found yesterday. I need you to identify that it’s her, Lucca,” he said quietly, looking down at the table.

  “What?”

  What was he saying?

  “She took her own life.”

  “What?”

  “She took her own life yesterday,” he uttered again.

  “Huh.” The absurdity of his words refused to sink in, the action so far removed from the woman Stella was. “She committed suicide?” I had to be clear on what he was telling me.

  “Yes. And you are still listed as next of kin. I need you to come identify her. Can you do that?”

  “Where?”

  “She’s in York at the moment.”

  “No. I mean where did you find her?”

  “Tony did. At the house.”

  “No one’s told Ayden, right?”

  I suddenly worried he was on his own, that he’d gone back to the Loft for some sleep and he had no one bar Sophie to lean on. Stella had still been his mother, this would hurt him no matter how he felt about her.

  “First port of call was here. It’s not my place to tell him, Lucca. We let you have yesterday, but it couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “Where’s Tony?”

  Adrian shifted on the stool. “He’s taking some personal time. Do you know a woman called Fiona Grieve?”

  I shook my head, the name not ringing any bells.

  “He’s gone to let her know. Apparently, Fiona Grieve was Stella’s mother’s friend. She visited with her now and again.”

  My sigh was weary. I was long over Stella’s antics, her secrets, her lies. I leaned my elbows on the island in front of me and dropped my head into my hands.

  “She’s really dead? You’re sure?”

  His hand reached out and rested on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Yes, she is.”

  “I can’t see her again, in any capacity. You’ve no idea the hell I went through with her,” I explained. “She’s not mine to claim, she’s nothing to me.” Staggering from the stool, I waved toward the door. “You can see yourself out.”

  “Wait,” he rushed to his feet, following me. “Please, sit back down with me. There’s something else, Lucca.”

  “What more could there possibly be?” I asked exasperated.

  Adrian pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket and handed it to me, the cream paper feeling rough and awkward in my hand. My name was scrawled across the front in Stella’s familiar cursive handwriting, and I suddenly knew I was holding her last words. I didn’t know if I wanted to read them, if I was brave enough to take the last cut she would inflict upon me. My heart was sore from her; raw, wounded…as dead as she was when it came to her.

  “I lifted it from the scene.” He gently pushed me back into the kitchen, heralding me toward the stool I’d been sitting on not a moment ago. “It wasn’t for every Tom, Dick and Harry to be reading.”

  Did I care? What could she possibly have to say that I would be interested in? Yet my curiosity got the better of me and as I sat down, I placed the envelope on the table and rested my palm on the cool paper.

  “I’ll be in touch, Lucca.”

  The detective leaving was nothing more than an afterthought in my peripheral vision. I picked the envelope up, twirling it between my fingers and then with a gulp of breath, I ripped Stella’s final insult open and resigned myself to read her words.

  Lucca,

  I loved you more than I loved myself. But I loved her more.

  Do what you have always done, love him enough for us both.

  Make him forget I ever existed. I made it easy for you, help him the rest of the way. Help him to love and not hate, for hate destroys all it comes into contact with.

  Stella.

  I laid my arms across the scant piece of paper and thumped my head to my forearms, a pressure releasing from my chest, from my heart. When I cried, I felt cleansed. I cried the last over a woman who deserved not a single one of my tears.

  Getting up from the kitchen island I made my way upstairs, each step toward my future felt lighter than the last, and when I paused at the bedroom door where my wife was still sleeping, I smiled.

  Stella had finally set me free.

  Sneak Peek of Chasing Tricks,

  Book #3 in The Razer Series.

  Sophie

  Reaching down, I gently stroked my finger along the peachy fuzz on Jessica’s cheek. Only a second or two, so as not to wake my sleeping beauty. She was so peaceful. Such a good girl.

  My Life.

  I turned from the cot and quietly padded across the room, my throat was dry, and I needed something to soothe it. Opening the door with stealth, I felt like a thief in the night as I stole out into the hallway, leaving the door open a crack, making the least possible noise I could. Shaun and Ayden were home tonight, just down the hall, knowing they both slept light, I kept my footfalls soft.

  Tiptoeing down through the Loft wasn’t all that hard. The small lamp at the end of the hallway never seemed to be turned off, and it illuminated enough so I could see where I was treading and not bang into anything. Casting a soft glow into the living room, the lamp shed light on Boomer, lounging on the sofa. Not sure if he was asleep or not, I stopped still and watched for a moment to see if there was any tell-tale movement from him to show he was awake.

  “Sophie,” he murmured without facing me, like he could sense my presence without needing to open his eyes. Maybe he could, we’d known each other a very long time.

  Stepping into the room, I offered my brother’s oldest friend a shaky smile. Boomer confused me, more so of late. I couldn’t get a read on him. In turn it scared me, even though I’d known him most of my life and he would never hurt me. I didn’t really know the Boomer who’d been away for a year and had come back an entirely different man. All I knew was, I shouldn’t have been afraid of him, but I was.

  “Hi,” I whispered, “I couldn’t sleep.”

  I felt the need to explain why I was sneaking around my own house in the middle of the night, though he didn’t warrant an explanation. He was the one sitting in the semi dark on my sofa.

  He turned his head and pierced me with a dark look, those solemn eyes of his glinting from the twinkle of lights beyond the big windows off to his side. “You okay?” His melodic voice twisted around me as I took in a nervous breath then exhaled quickly.

  “Yeah. Just need a drink.” I made a move to leave him in peace but remembered my manners before I did so. “You want anything?”

  Lolling his head against the couch, he grunted, holding up a bottle of half drunk beer. I sought out the clock and noted the time was 3 a.m. Why was Boomer sitting in the dark drinking?

  “You okay?” I asked back.

  Sighing, he looked toward the big windows. I couldn’t read the act but was startled when he let out a clipped ‘great’.

  With no desire to stick around, I traipsed my way through to the kitchen, pulling the fridge open. If his mood was like he sounded then fuck him, I wasn’t letting him take it out on me. I grabbed the carton of apple juice, forgoing a glass, the juice would be done by the time morning came anyway.

  I stopped back at the living room door to say goodnight to the grumpy sod currently hijacking my sofa, but he was no longer there. If his empty beer bottle hadn’t been left on the coffee table I would have thought he’d been a figment of my imagination. I searched the shadows of the room, coming up with nothing. He was gone.

  Boomer had spent a long time in rehab, it wasn�
��t just his attitude that had changed on his return. He’d always been attractive; that honey blond hair looking so soft, I often wondered if it would feel like feathers if I ever had the chance to run my fingers through it. He’d filled out in all the right places, looked as good as I’d ever seen hm. Boomer had always been easy on the eyes, well…mine anyway. Always forbidden though. Being clean suited him, apart from the dark disposition he’d brought home with him.

  He appeared to have a chip on his shoulder that no one could get to the bottom of. Where he’d given his hugs freely before, now he always made sure there was a distance between himself and whoever’s company he was keeping. He never stepped into me anymore, never slung and arm around my shoulder or laid a hand against my back like he used to. It bothered me immensely.

  Never called me Fly.

  Was being clean too much for him? Were we a constant reminder of his life before? Shaun had dragged us from the life that would have surely killed us all, Boomer had been gone by then so maybe he was just finding it difficult to adjust.

  Or perhaps it was simply me, my daughter?

  He knew the gory details of the fateful day Jake lost his life and mine had been brutally stripped from me. Shaun had asked if he could fill Boomer in and I saw no reason not to. He was my brother’s best friend and Shaun would have undoubtedly needed an outlet. He’d been there too.

  A tear slipped down my cheek and I swatted the fucker away, sick of the stupid things that did not help, only hindered. Droplets of nonsense, crying for a past that could not be changed.

  Once back in the sanctuary of my room, I placed the juice on the nightstand and flopped down onto my bed. This was my life now, I had a little one dependant on only me. Me and my girl. Her life would be hard enough without a father, nothing would ever fill the void Jake’s death had left behind. Not for me, not for her.

  Stupid tears - they wouldn’t bring him back.

  Connect with K A Sands

  Reviews are an author’s best friend. I would love to hear your thoughts on Stella, or any of the other books in this series. Twenty-five words or more is all it takes over on Amazon and other retail sites. Thank you!

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  Contact me at kasandsauthor@gmail.com

  Acknowledgements

  Book number five! Wow, didn’t think I’d ever release one, never mind five.

  Writing Stella wasn’t as easy as I imagined it would be, it dragged out memories, painful memories of a love that should have been infinite. I found my heart on the floor a time or two, my head lost to a past that should have remained exactly that - the past. And it hurt. Yet, it was cathartic in many ways. We don’t control the actions of others, can’t make someone love us, and sometimes it’s simply better that way. Through our shitty life experiences, we learn how much room we have in our hearts for others and who deserves to be there and who doesn’t. Blood does not give someone a right to your love. I have not spoken to my mother for almost thirty years, she is not a woman I would want in my life, yet I often feel cheated, even now. When a mother shows their own daughter how to slit their wrists ‘the right way,’ well… you learn fairly quickly that some people are simply beyond themselves. So, Stella and her character struck a chord with me. I tried to understand the reasoning behind her actions and often failed. I don’t know if I did this story justice - but I tried my very best. I just hope I didn’t fall too short.

  Be beautiful, love those who deserve to be loved and keep them close, for they are the ones who matter the most and will bring out the best in you. Blood is not always thicker than water…

  I couldn’t do it without the following people steering me in the right direction and pointing out the small things that don’t work, the big things that need more, and suggesting ways to make these books better.

  It always comes back to these ladies - Emma-Louise, Marian, Sharon and Susan. You make so much sense when you talk me through the silly bits of the books, point out where I’m dropping the ball, making those suggestions. I thank you for your dedication to helping me get where I am, you’re priceless and amazing x

  My constant - LJ. There will never be enough words for you. This is all down to you and I thank you for pushing me the way you do. Friend for life, I’m so lucky to have you x

  And Claire, one of the very best people I have ever met. You speak my language and as much as I hate the saying - you’re like my sister from another mister. Thank you for every wise word that you speak to me. I hope we have many, many years of those talks ahead of us x

  My family - as always, a steady beat in an often turbulent world. I love you x

  Last but never least - to you, the readers, the bloggers and everyone else who takes time out of their day to get lost in these books, pimp them out, and message me. I can’t thank you enough for all the kind support, we are nothing without you xxx

  DREAM BIG…

 

 

 


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