Copyright © 2019 Eve L. Mitchell
All rights reserved. This book is for your personal use only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review passages only. Copyright infringement is against the law, please do not abuse the hard work of the author.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines within this book are created by the authors imagination and are used fictitiously.
Editorial services provided by First Read Editorial; www.joesephinebanksofficial.com/editing
Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics LLC
Cover Design: JJ’s Book Covers and Designs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
From the Author
Acknowledgments
Indian Summer
About the Author
Connect with Eve L. Mitchell
For my readers,
for your support.
For Darren,
for always being there.
I have tried to stay true to the locations, schools, and landmarks of Boulder, Colorado. Any error that there may be in my descriptions, is entirely mine and my inability to use Google Maps properly. I have truly enjoyed my research of the state of Colorado and Boulder. I would dearly love to visit one day; Boulder continues to have a special place in my heart. Any deviations that there may be from the city or surrounding area are to fit in with the story.
Please note that I am a British author and although I have tried to make this as universal as I could, there will be some British spelling, phraseology, and terminology that I can’t (and won’t) eradicate from my writing and I am ok with that, I hope you are too.
Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, though I would recommend that you read them in order.
For your convenience, the reading order is listed below. A synopsis of each book will be contained at the back of each book.
Indian Summer – January 2019
Dark Heart – June 2019
*TBA – Dec 2019
Looking out over the yard of the autoshop as the sun went down was one of the favourite parts of my day, though I would never admit it to anyone. It was probably sensitive feelings or some shit, just because I liked the way the pink from the setting sun tinged the yard; didn’t mean I was sensitive. Hell no.
I repressed the sigh I could feel fighting for release as I saw my brother enter the yard. He’d been an absolute nightmare to be around after getting his balls handed to him by a freshman chick. He had been testing my patience and I really needed him out of the yard, out of the shop, out of Boulder.
I flicked my cigarette into the trash can as I watched him approach. His usual swagger was gone, which to be fair may not have been a bad thing. He frowned as he saw me.
“What? You’re such a tough guy, you’re too hard to wear a coat?” Jay demanded as he assessed my sleeveless shirt. I shrugged indifferently.
“I’ve been working.” I eyed him meaningfully; he hadn’t been to work in a week. I wasn’t paying him. If he thought he was getting paid, he had another thing coming.
“Yeah, I’ll be back to it soon bro, gimme a break,” he muttered. His break was coming all right, but not what he expected. I turned back into the shop, leaving him to follow behind me.
“Shadow back today?” Jay asked as he looked around. I nodded as I walked over to the engine I had been working on before I’d gone out for a smoke.
“Should be,” I answered as I stuck my head back under the hood, “anytime now.”
“Or…now,” the disembodied voice said from behind me. He had come through the side office door. I grinned in greeting. Shadow. Yeah, it was a stupid nickname and no, it hadn’t been purely about race when he first gained the name in middle school. However, the fact stood that Shadow was huge and dark-skinned and the name suited him. Plus, he preferred it to his real name, which was Ronald. The nickname originally started because wherever I went, he went too. Our folks and teachers would comment that he stuck to me like my shadow – the nickname caught on. Then some stupid stuck up white kid said it was because he was black. My textbook hadn’t missed the kid when I threw it at him. He would forever have a scar above his eye where I had bust his head open. I was a little scrawny when I was younger, however my temper was anything but. I also had the same smart mouth and tendency to skirt on the wrong side of right as I do now. When we were younger, Shadow stopped the bigger kids getting to me, purely by brute strength, until we were both able to fight back.
I never quite caught up to his height or his bulk, he stood a couple of inches higher than me, about twenty pounds heavier. If push came to shove, I could easily hold my own now without him. Although these days, people knew not to push. Or shove. Unless they wanted to end their day in the emergency room.
“Good to see you,” I greeted as he nodded at me in return. Jay looked reassured as he fist-bumped with him.
Idiot.
“Skinner is looking for you,” Shadow said to me as he opened a bottle of water from the small fridge in the corner of the workshop. Skinner couldn’t have been looking too hard, although, when I thought about it, my phone had been ringing all day – I had opted to ignore it.
I turned from the car completely and took my friend in properly. He was just back from vacation with his wife, they had been visiting family, he looked rested. He stood at five inches over six feet, his body was solid muscle, his dark skin made darker by tattoos. His hair was thick and curly and he wore it slicked back and gelled off his face. He looked really intimidating and it had nothing to do with the colour of his skin – Shadow looked like he could rip you clean in two. My mom would say he looked like someone you wouldn’t want to meet alone in a dark street, but you would be wrong if you thought that – Shadow was who you would hope to meet in a dark street. He was the kind who helped old ladies cross the street and picked up crying kids if they fell over. He wasn’t a soft touch though, cross him and he would beat the shit out of you.
He returned my look, assessing my mood quickly and taking in a deep breath. “Skinner,” he repeated, “he wants to see you.”
I turned back to the engine. I wasn’t interested in Skinner or what he wanted. I did some work for him now and then, but that was it. He didn’t own me. I didn’t work exclusively for him. I worked for myself and my own interests. The autoshop was jointly owned between my uncle and my old man, until a few years ago, when my uncle had signed his half over to me. My old man was currently in a bar somewhere deep in Texas, drinking himself to an early grave. I wasn’t expecting to see him anytime soon.
Shadow and I owned a boxing gym too, which was where we’d gotten the idea to move the fights out of the training room and into a neutral space – where the real fighting
matches had started. The gym still did well though – we had a steady, regular membership. Shadow knew which guys wanted more than training and stamina routines. These ones, we selected for the matches. Shadow scouted them, I background researched them and then – combined – we made money. Good money. More money than an autoshop and a regular training gym.
My eyes flicked to my little brother. Standing there in his beat-up leather jacket with that stupid fucking ponytail, pretending to be something he wasn’t. Me. He would never be me. There was a time when that was all I wanted, for Jay to never be like me. He didn’t need this life. He could go to college, get a degree, be better, be more. More than this, a guy who owned an autoshop and a gym, who ran illegal fights and didn’t mind picking up the odd job for someone shadier than even he was.
Those days were gone though – I no longer wished that for Jay. He clung so desperately to a life of half lies and darkness that he’d taken his eyes off the finish line and lost sight of the goal. Now he was just another wannabe thug who’d stooped to drugging a girl to get her into bed. He had been so stupid, so reckless. So desperate to score points that he hadn’t thought. He had fallen to a low that I wasn’t comfortable with. His friend had spiked a girl’s drink, a girl who had more protection than either of them bargained for. His friend had paid for spiking her drink though. The girl’s boyfriend, Colton, had almost obliterated him. I’d made sure of it. I had helped Colton find out who was responsible for the incident and then I had sat back and watched him beat the shit out of him, sending a message to all who had watched on – you didn’t mess with what was his. I respected him for the balls it had taken to walk into an unknown environment and lay down his message.
Yeah, the drink spiking incident of a couple weeks ago wasn’t going to sit well with me for a long time. I wasn’t buying the excuse that his friend did it without Jay’s knowledge, and even if he had, that shouldn’t be someone he still called friend.
Control was what separated us from the animals. Without it, we were just hairless chimps in an urban jungle. Now all I wanted was to get Jay away from me.
“Aaron, you gotta go see him.” Shadow brought me out of my head and I concentrated on what he was saying. “He was really fucking agitated. Almost frothing at the mouth.” Shadow didn’t look at all worried about this, his eyes brimming with humour at the thought that I had upset Skinner, again. I flipped him the finger.
“I could go,” Jay pipped up. Shadow looked at him and assessed him, his eyes flicking to me.
“Yeah, you’re leaving,” I said as I straightened up. Jay looked at me and I could almost hear him thinking. How could he ever be a serious player in my world, when he couldn’t even hide his thought process?
“I mean gone, you’re done here.” Again, I turned back to the engine, dismissing him. He began to splutter, ready to rage at me. I glanced up and met his stare head on. “Why don’t you tell Shadow what you did?”
I saw him falter. Saw his eyes flick fearfully to my friend. To the six feet five wall of muscle. I almost smiled. Gutless. Like our father. There was no place in this life for weakness.
“What did you do?” Shadow was leaning slightly against a car. Jay’s eyes flicked back to me, I could see the pleading. I ignored it.
“I asked you a question,” Shadow said softly. Dangerously.
I had missed him. Things had been quiet without him – the mice had been too free to play. I had been too busy caught up in a teenage fucking drama nightmare to keep the little rodents in check. Was it twisted that I was enjoying Jay’s discomfort? Probably. Did I care?
Fuck no.
I might actually enjoy what was coming next.
I listened intently as my brother fumbled his way through the story of the last couple of weeks. He quickly gave up trying to be the aggressor and shifted to the ignorant, the innocent, the scorned lover. Wrong play dickwad. Stupid and gutless. I shook my head. I caught Shadow’s eye, I could feel his rage and my skin tingled with anticipation. Shadow shrugged out of his jacket; I could practically feel his adrenaline.
Jay faltered once but continued. Then wisely, belatedly, he stopped. He eyed the exit. He looked at me again, support from his big brother. His face fell when he realised that I wasn’t going to help him.
I stood back and picked up my own jacket from the stool I had left it on when I came in. I shrugged it on over my sleeveless shirt.
“I’m going to go see Skinner, you good here man?” I looked at Shadow. He nodded once, never taking his eyes off Jay. “You should be gone by tomorrow morning little brother, don’t fuck it up,” I warned Jay softly as I left him.
I walked out of the garage as I heard Shadow invite Jay to throw the first punch. I breathed out into the late evening air. A weight was being lifted off my shoulders as I walked across the yard. A grin appeared when I heard my brother cry out in pain.
Pussy.
Yeah, I’m a bastard, I don’t hide it and I don’t pretend to be anything else. But raping women? No. Taking someone against their will? Never. Jay crossed the line. The perfect punishment was in the form of a huge angry dude, whose cousin had been attacked when she was sixteen.
I was almost whistling as I left the yard. Normality was returning, I could taste it, it was so close, I could almost touch it.
My phone rang and I pulled it out from my back pocket. Seventh missed call from Skinner today. This was beginning to annoy me.
“What?” I snapped as I answered it when it began ringing again.
“Where the fuck have you been all day? I need you at my office now.” His nasal voice irritated me. I was rapidly losing my good mood.
“I’m busy,” I snapped in return as I pulled my Marlboros from my coat pocket. I was supposed to be cutting back, but these bastards were sent to try me. Smoking was my only vice. I didn’t drink a lot and I didn’t do drugs. Maybe I was smoking myself to death but it was within my control to stop when I wanted to.
“You’re not busy, get your ass here now, your brother’s costing me money. I’m not fucking around Aaron, get to my office.” He hung up.
Swearing loudly, I stopped in the street, taking note of the couple rushing past me hurriedly. I snorted at their retreating figures.
If Shadow hadn’t been beating Jay up at this exact moment, I would have gone back and got the little bastard myself. I walked up to my truck and angrily opened the door, I was so sick of this shit. I was still grumbling as I headed out of Boulder on highway 36 to Denver.
I arrived at his office a little after 7:30. Skinner’s office was a joke, like him. He leased a floor in an office building, thinking that paying the same rent as the other tenants put him in the same class as the other occupants. He was a cheap crook, in an expensive suit, playing businessman. I saluted the security guard on the desk as I walked past him, he didn’t blink, but buzzed me through the security barrier to the elevators. Skinner didn’t like it when I came over within normal working hours. He was scared my muscles, clothes, attitude and most importantly, my ink, gave people the wrong impression. I had a good height on me, I stood tall, I worked out every day, keeping myself strong and healthy. My dark blond hair I kept cut close on the sides and back but long and slicked back on top. I was heavily tattooed all over, including my neck. I knew what people saw when they saw me. I didn’t care. The wrong impression from these people, was most likely the correct one. For them.
As I got in the elevator, I got a text, I grinned as I read it.
Shadow: Took him to emergency and dropped him off. Probably broke a few ribs, might have broken his arm. Definitely broke his nose, should have been his jaw. Think he may have concussion. He won’t be flying tomorrow but he’ll be travelling.
Me: You heading home?
Shadow: Yeah, got to see the little missus and the bump. Catch you tomorrow.
I put the phone back in my pocket. Then I pulled it out again. I sent a quick text to one of my garage guys. Told him to make sure Jay and his buddy, Gerry – the one who did
spike the girl’s drink – were gone by morning.
I rolled my neck on my shoulders. The tension I had felt leaving me earlier was coming back. I had a knot between my shoulder blades, I wanted it gone.
I stepped out onto the office floor of Skinner the Crook. He had been called that by my mother when I was younger, it had a nice ring to it I always thought. I hadn’t dropped the moniker as I got older. He was waiting out by his office. His fat little body sweating in an overpriced suit.
“What took you so long?” he grumbled as he disappeared into his office. I flipped him the finger as I followed. Childish for my age, but it made me feel better.
I sat down on one of his huge armchairs and put my boots on his desk. I couldn’t help it. He just brought insolence out of me and I enjoyed pissing him off.
“Seriously Aaron? That’s polished mahogany – get your feet off it.” He swiped my feet. I jumped up, towering over him. He flinched and pumped his fat little legs behind his desk.
Yeah that desk won’t stop me, asshole.
“My wife Belinda has a daughter,” he started, no pleasantries. It was usually only one of the few things I liked about him – his ability to cut to the chase. “She’s getting into some trouble in New York and her father is sending her out here, to her mother.” His hands were clasped in front of him. I noticed the beads of sweat on his brow running from his balding head. His head was shaped like an orange and I idly thought about squeezing it in a vice.
I had retaken my seat, I pulled out my lighter.
“Do not smoke in here,” he snapped at me. I watched him as he once again ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. I had no intention of smoking in the office. Idiot. I pulled out my smokes and placed my lighter in the pack, which was all I had been intending on doing before he jumped to conclusions. Pocketing my smokes, I pulled out a quarter. I rolled it over my knuckles, travelling it between my fingers. It was a cool trick my dad taught me when I was a kid. One of the few things he taught me before he bailed, this and how to pick a lock. Both valuable lessons in my opinion, but the most important lesson he taught when he left, count on no-one but yourself.
Dark Heart Page 1
