[Sins and Secrets 01.0] Damaged

by Willow Winters

  A large metal door opens at the end of the hall and I look up, my view obstructed by steel bars of the jail cell.

  It’s been a long damn time since I’ve been locked up. Years. Almost a dozen years, to be exact. I knew I’d be back soon though.

  It was only a matter of time before they brought me in for questioning. I sit hunched over, resting my forearms on my thighs as I wait for the attending officer to come get me. He walks right past me though and I drop my head, focusing on the concrete floor and recalling every detail of the night that put me here.

  My hands sweat as I twist my wedding band around my finger. I can’t think about Kat right now or what she’d say. I haven’t told her a damn thing about this and she’s still not letting me back into her life. If she knew the truth, she’d hate me forever.

  The worst part about all of this, is that I don’t have a way out yet. I’m just falling into a dark hole, not knowing how to escape, or if it will ever end.

  Someone coughs and I slowly turn my head to the left where it came from a few cells down, but I can’t see a damn thing. I think there’s only one other person in holding with me. And he’s on the same side so the rest of the cells are empty. I guess Tuesdays are slow days for the station.

  My foot tap, tap, taps on the ground as I anxiously wait. The cops haven’t given me shit to go on yet. Other than the word murder. My best guess is that they think I gave Tony the coke and knew it was laced with poison.

  Even if I didn’t know it was tainted, I’d still be held accountable. At least here in the state of New York, I am. But that shit was fucked with. Someone wanted him dead. Although the only two people who knew it was even there were me and my old boss.

  That lying piece of shit. My shoulders rise with a heavy breath as the anger gets the best of me. I can see him smile as he patted my back, walking out the room after making sure it’d be ready for our client, Tony. I know he knew.

  He’s the one who put it there. The only question I have on my mind is whether he’s the one who laced it. I can’t imagine he did. He wouldn’t be that stupid. But I’m not taking the fall for murder over the shitty decision that cost Tony his life.

  “Thompson,” the cop’s voice bellows and echoes off the walls of the small cell.

  “That’s me,” I answer him, looking him square in the eye. I don’t recognize him as he puts the key in the lock and opens the door wide for me to get out and walk to the interrogation room. Adrenaline pumps hard in my blood. It seems more intense now than it did years ago.

  Maybe it’s because I don’t know how I’ll get out of this. I have an alibi, but if James, my ex-boss, showed them the pictures proving I was with Tony that night, then I’m fucked.

  I have to wonder if he would though. If that’s the case, he was deliberately withholding evidence and they’d have to question his intentions and his involvement.

  My boots smack against the floor and I walk at an easy pace, making sure I don’t do anything to piss off the cop. He’s a short guy. Probably in his thirties, I guess. Lots of wrinkles around his eyes though. Maybe from the stress, maybe from the sun.

  “After you,” he says with a grim look on his face as he opens the door. I give him a nod and walk in; he doesn’t follow me though.

  I only hesitate to sit down for a moment. There are two men in the room already. A tall cop with broad shoulders and a thin mustache that I want to shave off and Jay McCann, the lawyer from James’ PR company.

  “You’re fired,” I tell him the second I sit down. I don’t even look at the dumb fuck. He’s represented me and plenty of other clients before, but I know he’d break attorney-client privilege and tell James everything. I don’t trust him.

  “Are you sure?” the cop asks me as McCann stutters over a response. Obviously shocked and I don’t blame him.

  “Evan, I don’t understand. I highly suggest we talk about this before you-”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Sorry, Jay.” I turn to face him and wait for a response, but he stands up and straightens his jacket. He clenches his jaw as he grabs his briefcase and I can see he wants to say something, but he holds it in.

  I watch him walk around the table and exit without another word, leaving me alone with the cop.

  “I’m Detective Bradshaw, Mr. Thompson.”

  “I would say it’s nice to meet you, but…,” I say with a smirk and tilt my hands out with my palms up. Detective Bradshaw doesn’t laugh or respond to my little joke. And that’s fine. They never do in here where it’s recorded. I know how this works.

  “Have you been informed of your rights?”

  “I have,” I answer him.

  “And do you know what you’re being charged with?” he asks me.

  “Charged?” I answer quickly, my back stiffening as my muscles tense. “I wasn’t informed that I was being charged.”

  “Well, I imagine there’s no refuting it on your part. You supplied Tony Lewis with the cocaine he overdosed on.”

  “And you want me to admit to handing over the cocaine to him, so you have someone behind bars to take the fall for a hotshot’s death?” I ask him sarcastically, seamlessly hiding how my nerves want to crack and how my blood pounds in my ears. I let out an uneasy huff of a laugh and shake my head. Leaning back in my seat, I look him in the eyes with a smile as I say, “That’s not happening, Detective.”

  “Well, someone is going to go down for murder, yes. But you’d only be sentenced for your part and we’re willing to cut you a deal. Whoever laced it with strychnine intended for it to kill. There’s no doubt in the DA’s mind that it’s murder.”

  He waits for a reaction, but I use every ounce of energy in me to not give him anything. I won’t say a word. Inside, I’m denying it. No fucking way. There’s no way James would give a client something that would kill him. They’re wrong.

  “We know it’s someone within the firm. It’s not the first time one of NY PR’s clients has turned up dead.” He leans back and adds, “As I’m sure you’re aware.”

  As he talks, he pulls out a manila folder that was sitting on his lap and tosses it my way. It lands with a heavy thud in front of me and I easily open it, feigning disinterest.

  “Nothing points to that person being you, but this was intentional. Someone wanted whoever was going to be taking this coke to die. It was laced with enough strychnine to kill with the smallest sample.”

  I don’t say anything as he pauses. He points his finger to a chart. “Whoever did it wanted even the smallest dose to kill.”

  My heart beats hard in my chest and then again.

  “If you have any information on how we’d go about finding the killer, that’d be useful, and we’d certainly be grateful for that.”

  I have to calmly exhale a few times, keeping as still as possible and making sure my expression doesn’t change in the least before I can respond. “I really liked Tony and it’s a shame what happened to him. It’s extremely upsetting to think someone murdered him.”

  “It is, especially since he didn’t have any enemies we can find,” the cop says and then leans forward.

  “You know, if we can’t find who did it, you’ll be taking the full brunt of things.”

  I let a sarcastic laugh rock my shoulders and then look toward the door to my left. The one that leads to my freedom. “I’m sorry Detective, everyone I know loved Tony and I didn’t give him any drugs.” I lean forward, mimicking his posture as I add, “It’s illegal.”

  “If that’s the way you want to play it,” he says, reaching for the folder and I lean back in my seat again as he collects the papers.

  “Am I free to go now?” I ask him. “I’d like to leave.”

  He stands abruptly, making the steel chair legs scrape noisily across the floor. “I don’t think so. Maybe a night in the cells will help you remember something.”

  Fucking prick.

  “Be back in a bit, Thompson.”

  I clench my jaw and crack my knuckles as I watch him leave.

 
It’s only when the door shuts and I’m left alone in the room that I realize the extent of what Detective Bradshaw said.

  Someone wanted to kill Tony, knowing I’d give the coke to him. Maybe even thinking I’d take it too. I’m known for partying. It’s why clients chose me to represent them in the firm. My head spins as I try to recall that night. There’s no way anyone else could have gotten in there. James had a key, and he gave me the only other copy.

  I was there to party with the clients and make sure they had a good time but stayed out of trouble. It was easy enough in the rec room.

  For the last ten minutes, I’ve been thinking that someone was trying to kill Tony. It’s what the detective was suggesting.

  I’d bet anything that James thought I’d take a hit at least.

  Maybe it’s paranoia, but as I sit alone in the room, all I can think is that the coke was never intended for Tony.

  Someone wanted me dead.

  Click here to keep reading Scarred!

  Sneak Peek of Possessive

  From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, contemporary romance.

  It was never love with Daniel and I never thought it would be.

  It was only lust from a distance.

  Unrequited love maybe.

  He’s a man I could never have, for so many reasons.

  That didn’t stop my heart from beating wildly when his eyes pierced through me.

  It only slowed back down when he’d look away, making me feel so damn unworthy and reminding me that he would never be mine.

  Years have passed and one look at him brings it all back.

  But time changes everything.

  There’s a heat in his eyes I recognize from so long ago, a tension between us I thought was one-sided.

  “Tell me you want it.” His rough voice cuts through the night and I can’t resist.

  That’s where my story really begins.

  Possessive is an emotional, gripping story. Filled with heartache, guilt and longing! Possessive will take you on a journey of obsession and jealousy...it's emotional, raw and captivating. - Beyond The Covers Blog

  Preface

  Addison

  It’s easy to smile around Tyler.

  It’s how he got me. We were in tenth-grade calculus, and he made some stupid joke about angles. I don’t even remember what it was. Something about never discussing infinity with a mathematician because you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s a cute dork with his jokes. He knows some dirty ones too.

  A year later and he still makes me smile. Even when we’re fighting. He says he just wants to see me smile. How could I leave when I believe him with everything in me?

  My friend’s grandmother told me once to fall in love with someone who loves you just a little more.

  Even as my shoulders shake with a small laugh and he leans forward nipping my neck, I know that I’ll never really love Tyler the way he loves me.

  And it makes me ashamed. Truly.

  I’m still laughing when the bedroom door creaks open. Tyler plants a small kiss on my shoulder. It’s not an open-mouth kiss, but still, it leaves a trace on my skin and sends a warmth through my body. It’s only momentary though.

  The cool air passes between the two of us, as Tyler leans back and smiles broadly at his brother.

  I may be seated on my boyfriend’s lap, but the way Daniel looks at me makes me feel alone. His eyes pierce through me. With a sharpness that makes me afraid to move. Afraid to breathe even.

  I don’t know why he does this to me.

  He makes me hot and cold at the same time. It’s like I’ve disappointed him simply by being here. As if he doesn’t like me. Yet, there’s something else.

  Something that’s forbidden.

  It creeps up on me whenever I hear Daniel’s rough voice; whenever I catch him watching Tyler and me. It’s like I’ve been caught cheating, which makes no sense at all. I don’t belong to Daniel, no matter how much that idea haunts my dreams.

  He’s almost twenty and I’m only sixteen. And more importantly, he’s Tyler’s brother.

  It’s all in my head. I tell myself over and over again that the electricity between us is something I’ve made up. That my body doesn’t burn for Daniel. That my soul doesn’t ache for him to rip me away and punish me for daring to let his brother touch me.

  It’s only when Tyler says something to him, that Daniel turns to look at him, tossing something down beside us.

  Tyler’s oblivious to everything happening. And suddenly, I can breathe again.

  My eyelids flutter open, my body hot under the stifling blankets. I don’t react to the memory in my dreams anymore. Not at first. It sinks in slowly. The recognition of what that day would lead to getting heavier in my heart with each second that passes. Like a wave crashing on the shore, but it’s taking its time. Threatening as it approaches.

  It was years ago, but the memory stays.

  The feeling of betrayal, for fantasizing about Tyler’s older brother.

  The heartache from knowing what happened only three weeks after that night.

  The desire and desperation to go back to that point and beg Tyler to never come looking for me.

  All of those needs stir into a deadly concoction in the pit of my stomach. It’s been years since I’ve been tormented by the memories of Tyler and what we had. And by the memories of Daniel and what never was.

  Years have passed.

  But it all comes back now that Daniel's back.

  Chapter 1

  Addison

  The night before

  I love this bar. Iron Heart Brewery. It’s nestled in the center of the city and located at the corner of this street. The town itself has history. Hints of the old cobblestone streets peek through the torn asphalt and all the signs here are worn and faded, decorated with weathered paint. I can’t help but to be drawn here.

  And with the varied memorabilia lining the walls, from signed knickknacks to old glass bottles of liquor, this place is flooded with a welcoming warmth. It’s a quiet bar with all local and draft beers a few blocks away from the chaos of campus. So it’s just right for me.

  “Make up your mind?”

  My body jolts at the sudden question. It only gets me a rough laugh from the tall man on my left, the bartender who spooked me. A grey shirt with the brewery logo on it fits the man well, forming to his muscular shoulders. With a bit of stubble and a charming smirk, he’s not bad looking. And at that thought, my cheeks heat with a blush.

  I could see us making out behind the bar; I can even hear the bottles clinking as we crash against the wall in a moment of passion. But that’s where it would end for me. No hot and dirty sex on the hard floor. No taking him back to my barely furnished apartment.

  I roll my eyes at the thought and blow a strand of hair away from my face as I meet his gaze.

  I’m sure he flirts with everyone. But it doesn’t make it any less fun for the moment.

  “Whatever your favorite is,” I tell him sheepishly. “I’m not picky.” I have to press my lips together and hold back my smile when he widens his and nods.

  “You new to town?” he asks me.

  I shrug and have to slide the strap to my tank top back up onto my shoulder. Before I can answer, the door to the brewery and bar swings open, bringing in the sounds of the nightlife with it. It closes after two more customers leave. Looking over my shoulder through the large glass door at the front, I can see them heading out. The woman is leaning heavily against a strong man who’s obviously her significant other.

  Giving the bartender my attention again, I’m very much aware that there are only six of us here now. Two older men at the high top bar, talking in hushed voices and occasionally laughing so loud that I have to take a peek at them.

  And one other couple who are seated at a table in the corner of the bar. The couple who just left had been sitting with them. All four are older than I am. I’d guess married with children and having a
night out on the town.

  And then there’s the bartender and me.

  “I’m not really from here, no.”

  “Just passing through?” he asks me as he walks toward the bar. I’m a table away, but he keeps his eyes on me as he reaches for a glass and hits the tap to fill it with something dark and decadent.

  “I’m thinking about going to the university actually. To study business. I came to check it out.” I don’t tell him that I’m putting down some temporary roots regardless of whether or not I like the school here. Every year or so I move somewhere new … searching for what could feel like home.

  His eyebrow raises and he looks me up and down, making me feel naked. “Your ID isn’t fake, right?” he asks and then tilts the tall glass in his hand to let the foam slide down the side.

  “It isn’t fake, I swear,” I say with a smile and hold up my hands in defense. “I chose to travel instead of going to college. I’ve got a little business, but I thought finally learning more about the technicalities of it all would be a step in the right direction.” I pause, thinking about how a degree feels more like a distraction than anything else. It’s a reason to settle down and stop moving from place to place. It could be the change I need. Something needs to change.

  His expression turns curious and I can practically hear all the questions on his lips. Where did you go? What did you do? Why did you leave your home so young and naïve? I’ve heard them all before and I have a prepared list of answers in my head for such questions.

  But they’re all lies. Pretty little lies.

  He cleans off the glass before walking back over and pulling out the seat across from me.

  Just as the legs of the chair scrape across the floor, the door behind me opens again, interrupting our conversation and the soft strums of the acoustic guitar playing in the background.