Night Shift 2

by Anthology

  Lost in the pure love Jayden gave her constantly.

  And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Her husband’s lips pressed to hers and her baby in her arms.

  What a beautiful addition to her forever.

  The End

  Also by Toni Aleo

  Assassins Series

  Taking Shots

  Trying to Score

  Empty Net

  Falling for the Backup

  Blue Lines

  Breaking Away

  Laces and Lace

  A Very Merry Hockey Holiday

  Wanting to Forget

  Overtime

  Rushing the Goal

  Bellevue Bullies Series

  Boarded by Love

  Clipped by Love

  Hooked by Love

  Taking Risks

  Whiskey Prince

  Becoming the Whiskey Princess

  Patchwork Series

  Pieces

  Standalones

  Let it be Me

  Make sure to check out these titles and more on Toni’s website.

  About the Author

  My name is Toni Aleo, and I’m a total dork.

  I am a wife, mother of two and a crazy dog—and also a hopeless romantic. When my family leaves me alone, I’m also a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author.

  I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and I can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!

  When my nose isn’t leaving marks on the glass, I enjoy going to my husband’s and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competitions, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.

  I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life…probably Belle.

  …And did I mention I love hockey?

  Also make sure to join the mailing list for up-to-date news from the desk of Toni Aleo.

  Or connect with Toni on Instagram, and more - check below!

  Connect with Toni

  @tonilovesweber6

  tonialeo1

  www.tonialeo.com

  Kindle Alexander

  Secret prequel bonus scene by Kindle Alexander - A man must reveal his deepest secret to keep the ones he loves.

  Copyright

  Secret Prequel

  Copyright © Kindle Alexander, 2016

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Edited by Jae Ashley

  Cover by Reese Dante

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Kindle Alexander, kindle@kindlealexander.com. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Kindle Alexander, LLC. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author's rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Secret Prequel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  To Kindle and Perry. It’s always about you.

  Bo, you inspire.

  1

  1998 Dallas, Texas

  Dylan Reeves’s stomach roiled with nausea with each bump and sway of the pickup. He dropped his head into his hands to try to still the motion. God, his fucking head hurt, and his father’s constant scolding from the driver’s seat wasn’t helping to relieve the throbbing pain.

  “I said I’m sorry,” Dylan mumbled.

  Jesus, his old man could go on and on. He’d had his ass chewed on for the last twenty minutes, since his father had picked him up. Didn’t his dad realize he knew exactly what the fuck waited on him at home? This so wasn’t the time for another you’re-a-father-now-grow-the-fuck-up lectures. He’d heard it all before. Yeah, he needed to fix his shit, but he was so damned confused. Things had spiraled, and he didn’t even know where to begin to get his shit in order.

  “This is the last time I’m bailin’ you out of jail. No more. We didn’t raise you to act like this. Teri and those babies need you to man up. You made this mess; now grow up and take responsibility for what you’ve done.” His father’s voice boomed as he banged his fist against the steering wheel of the late-model Chevy pickup to drive his point home.

  Dylan struggled to push the effects of the lingering hangover aside and refused to give in to his stomach’s queasy demands. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, then down his face. At least this time he wasn’t going to have to deal with all the annoying questions his family always managed to throw his way. They were past the point of caring about why he did what he did. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see his life had started spinning way out of control.

  His father pulled off the main road into the parking lot of an older office complex. On an early Sunday morning, the place was pretty deserted, all except for a few cars parked out front.

  “There’s an AA meetin’ on the second floor.” His father pointed to the front doors of the building. His gaze followed his old man’s finger, and even then, it took him a minute to realize his father expected him to go inside. “When you’re done, walk to our house. We’ve got the kids. Teri had to go to work early this mornin’. You didn’t go home like you were supposed to, so she brought ’em to us.”

  Dylan stared at the building, then swung his head back to his father, waiting a heartbeat to see if his pop was serious about the AA meeting.

  “Get out of my truck. And if you don’t go to the meetin’, don’t bother asking us for help anymore. We’re done with bailin’ you out of jail and dealin’ with everything you keep fuckin’ up. Now, get out.” His father’s words echoed with such command they left no room for argument. Dylan reluctantly opened the truck door and stepped out on the pavement. How could he explain to his father that he didn’t need AA?

  What he had to do was grow a fucking spine. He took one last look over his shoulder as he shut the truck door. The heart he thought he’d buried years ago made its presence known by dropping to his feet at the disgust he saw written all over his father’s face. That was the exact look he’d tried to escape all these years.

  Dammit to hell. He was such a fucking coward. He started for the building, daring one last look over his shoulder. His father sat in the truck, watching him go.

  Suddenly, the meeting seemed so much better than the disappointment staring back at him. Shame had him quickening his stride toward the office complex. He was so caught up in his thoughts he barely registered the sounds of the old truck exiting the parking lot. He pulled open the door and stepped inside. A deep sigh escaped as he gave into the defeat and followed the arrow up the stairs to the AA meeting.

  Dylan sat in the back of the room still wearing last night’s dirty, wrinkled clothing. He crossed his arms over his chest, slouched down in his chair, and focused his gaze on the patterned linoleum flooring. Compared to everyone else in the room, he looked like shit and probably smelled even worse—that was what spending the night drunk and partying so hard it resulted in a jail stay would do for you. The guilt and
dread coiled deep in the pit of his stomach. He had fucked up everything in his life. His pop was right.

  Thankfully, there weren’t too many members at this meeting. The ones that were there had finally stopped with their warm greetings and kind attempts to get him to talk. He sat stoically, arms crossed over his chest, feet kicked out in front of him, completely unengaged while trying to ignore the intensely foul taste of stale alcohol in his mouth.

  Dylan sat on that hard metal chair, listening to people drone on and on, the whole time thinking about his life and the lie he’d been living. His head pounded so hard it made him sick. Something had to give.

  Fuck this! He didn’t need this meeting. The parting look his father had given was more than enough to straighten his shit out.

  His frown turned to a scowl as resolve firmly set in. If his parents were going to carry shame about him, it wouldn’t be because he was a loser who abandoned his wife and kids to hide in a bottle. His parents were good people who lived a decent life. They didn’t deserve that from their son. Hell, they had even taken a second mortgage on their house to give him a chance to get through college and look at how he’d repaid them. He was screwing up everybody’s life. His parents’, Teri’s, his kids’. All because he was a pussy and drinking was way easier than facing the truth.

  He was done with letting everyone down. His mind was made up: no more. He was the only one who could decide his life’s path, and he’d done one hell of a bang-up job of it lately. The self-loathing had to stop. If he could change, he would, but he had to face the facts, this was who he was as a man, no matter how difficult it would be for anyone to deal with, including himself. And he was a man, which meant he needed to start acting like one.

  Realistically, it would take some time to prove to everyone that he’d straightened his shit out. Dylan doubted anyone would believe he had it in him to turn his life around, but that didn’t matter. He was done hiding, done feeling so mixed up and out of control, done dragging his family through all of this mess without giving them any clues to the truth. Giving up drinking was easy; regaining the respect of his family would be the absolute hardest part in all of this. Whatever. He’d made up his mind. He’d do whatever it took to fix this.

  Instead of the dreadful pattern on the linoleum, the sweet, smiling faces of his little babies filled his mind. He cringed internally as he thought of the guilt he carried where they were concerned. The life he had been subjecting them to almost brought tears to his eyes. His father had been right; he’d been out of control for a while. Teri and the babies were truly his pride and joy. Dylan loved his children more than anything—another thing he was certain no one in his life would believe.

  He rose from his seat, unintentionally interrupting the tempo of the speaker. The disruption caused every eye to turn his way as he threaded his way through rows of chairs to leave the room. Once out in the hall, Dylan bypassed the elevator he hadn’t even noticed before and took the stairs down to the first floor.

  He had a plan, and he wouldn’t let anything stop him. He shoved through the front doors of the building, the doors clanging as metal met brick. The bright sunshine seemed different, almost freeing. His soul sure as hell felt a little lighter.

  With a deep, cleansing breath, Dylan allowed the emotion of the moment to wash over him. Today would be the start of a new chapter in their lives. His lingering hangover faded to a mild annoyance. His entire attitude changed as he formulated his plan while walking to his parents’ home. He’d grown up on these streets, traveled these roads his entire life, but somehow, this morning, they appeared transformed. A few minutes into his journey, he began a slow jog. The uneasy sickness he’d felt even before last night’s bender fled with each step he took. He’d forgotten how much he liked to jog—something he hadn’t done since he’d started college. His head cleared, his heart opened, and his resolve grew stronger.

  Chloe, Cate, and Chad would be good with his parents for another hour or two. Right now, he needed to talk to Teri. It was time for the truth. He was going to do what he should have been man enough to do years ago…come clean.

  2

  Huffing hard, Dylan took the steps two at a time up to the restaurant where Teri worked. He ignored the disapproving stares of the customers waiting along the walkway for a table. It was Sunday morning, church day, and most patrons wore their Sunday best. Besides last night’s rumpled clothing and smelling of stale alcohol, he now could factor in his profuse sweat to the qualities of his appearance. Dylan didn’t let that deter him as he went for the front doors, pushing them open wide. He’d never allow his secret to control him again. Walking through the foyer, Dylan ran his fingers through soaked hair and rubbed his hands down the front of the shirt, trying to make himself a little more presentable.

  He started at one end of the restaurant and swept his gaze through the room to locate Teri. He registered the stares he got from patrons and staff. Funny, he might look like hell, but he felt better than he had in years. Surprisingly, he wasn’t even a bit nervous as he rounded the hostess stand. On the far end of the restaurant, he spotted Teri working behind the wait station. As he walked toward her, he took in her “rode hard and put up wet” appearance. Had she been out late last night too? The best he could tell, she’d obviously managed her good time a little better than he had.

  “We need to talk,” he said, coming to a stop directly in front of her. She glanced up, clearly surprised to see him. Yep, she still had remnants of last night’s makeup, a sure sign she’d stayed out a little later than planned.

  “Great job on the arrest. Made this morning perfect,” she quipped, ignoring his comment as she lowered her head and continued working. “You look like hell.”

  “I know about Christian and I’m not mad. We need to talk,” he said quietly, but sternly. He only dropped that little bomb to express the urgency he had in trying to make this right between them again. Her panicked gaze darted up to his. The normal disgusted glare she used with him, the one she tossed his way every time they had any sort of interaction, faded away, replaced now with an uncertainty.

  “Hold on.” Teri stopped her task mid-motion and asked the woman next to her to cover her tables. Teri never looked back at him as she moved around the corner. Dylan followed her through the kitchen and out the back door. The minute they were in the alley behind the restaurant, she spun around.

  She pointed her finger in his face, taking a defensive stance. “You give me nothing, Dylan. I’m alone all the time. You refuse to have sex with me unless you’re trashed. What did you expect me to do, remain celibate? Of course I found someone else.”

  He placed both his hands on her upper arms when it looked like she was going to continue scolding him.

  “Listen to me.” Either his actions or his words startled her, but she stopped and let out a breath. “We need to talk. I mean seriously talk. When do you get off?” The look she gave him lasted several long seconds, shifting from cautious to curious.

  “I work a double today. I’ll be cut first,” she finally answered. He watched her expression change, almost as if she were truly seeing him for the first time in a very long time. Teri stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. Tears began to well in her eyes. The folded arms most definitely meant she was holding herself together.

  Good. She knew they had come to a turning point.

  Dylan nodded once and stepped back a single step to give Teri room to breathe. In college, she had become his best friend, his lifeline. He’d abused that friendship, and he needed to make this right by her.

  “Okay, I’m going to pick up the kids, and we’ll be at home. When they go to bed, we have some decisions to make.”

  Her shoulders slumped slightly, her defensive tone faded as she said, “They’re what I’m most concerned about. We have to do better. They deserve more from us.”

  “Agreed,” Dylan nodded once. The door opened behind them, and he looked back to see the manager sticking his head out, looking around until his g
aze landed on the two of them.

  “Everything all right out here?”

  Dylan hated he’d appeared so irrational that the restaurant management needed to come check on Teri; though, his day-old, rumpled clothing probably didn’t help in the staff’s assessment.

  “We’re good.” He lifted both hands, trying to defuse the concern he saw reflected back at him from the manager and turned to Teri who had taken another step away. “Come straight home, please.”

  With that settled, he left the back alley, heading the few miles to his parents’ house to pick up his children.

  It certainly wasn’t a love for cleaning that had Dylan scrubbing the small house from top to bottom, sterilizing everything from the kitchen all the way to the one bathroom they all shared in the back of the house. He’d picked up and organized the kids’ toys, done all the laundry, and cooked a healthy dinner. He’d become a determined man, focused and resolved and on a new path.

  With one or two solid pushes against the mop handle, Dylan stopped and looked around the kitchen. Funny, the tile floor was actually white. Who knew? He needed to help more around the house, pay better attention. Teri couldn’t do it all.

  In all his haste, he’d accidentally mopped himself into a corner. He didn’t dare walk across the wet floor to place the mop back in the closet. Instead, he leaned it against the wall and swung around, looking over the open space that encompassed their kitchen, living room, and eating area. It wasn’t much, but the place was now completely clean.

  Dylan lifted his wrist to look down at his watch. Ten fifteen. Teri should be on her way home from her double shift by now. He tiptoed out of the kitchen until he could walk on the freshly vacuumed carpet as he went for the desktop computer his parents had gotten them for Christmas and logged into the internet. Seconds felt like hours as he waited for AOL to load and his email to open.