Where Truth Lies (Love vs. Loyalty Book 2)

by Nia Arthurs

  At that moment, the door burst open and the window crashed. Breana felt herself being hurtled down and a body toppled on top of hers. Something wet and sticky trickled down her side and gathered in her hands.

  Blood!

  Her breath came in frantic, shaky gasps. All she could see was the darkness of the floor. All she could smell was the tangy scent of the blood gathering on the ground. All she could hear was the thunder of gunshots and the grunts of men in pain.

  At last, someone flung the body off her and she looked down, expecting to see a wound in her side. There was none. She glanced over to thank the officer that had saved her and froze.

  Trenton Lorde lay on the ground, his face as white as snow and his shirt stained red. His eyes were closed and his chest did not move.

  A tortured scream tore from Breana’s throat and she crawled to his side.

  “Trenton! No!”

  No matter how hard she screamed, no matter how loudly she cried, Trenton did not wake up. !”

  Epilogue

  ₪₪₪₪₪₪

  Doctors and nurses walked by with levelheaded determination. The scent of air freshener and bleach mixed in a strange bled that belonged uniquely to hospitals. A voice spoke over the crackling speakers, adding to the tension zipping through the hallway.

  “It seems Breana’s boss was caught up in a bad situation involving stolen drugs,” Merna said shakily into her phone, still not quite able to believe all that had happened that morning. “She’s fine, but… I’m afraid Trenton isn’t.”

  Lorraine coughed, fear striking every note in her voice. “What happened to my baby?”

  “Breana was one of the women taken hostage by the criminals. When the police tried to remove them by force, the gang opened fire. Trenton was hit while trying to protect her.”

  Lorraine sniffed. “That sounds just like my son. Will he be alright?”

  “The paramedics said the gunshot wound wasn’t too bad.”

  “Thank God.”

  “It was the blood loss that could do him in.”

  “Oh no!”

  Merna shook her head. “Breana’s losing her mind over here. I’m doing my best to calm her down.”

  “What about the other girls? Are they okay?”

  “Trenton was the only one hurt in the showdown.”

  Lorraine sniffed. “I wish I could be there.”

  “He’s going to be fine. Just don’t let this hamper your treatment. Remember, the end goal is grandkids. It’s too early in the game to give up now.”

  “You’re right. I’ll send Edward down. Heaven knows we need a break from each other.”

  “What happened?”

  “He’s seeing someone. He thinks I haven’t noticed, but I just haven’t said anything.” Lorraine sighed. “Trenton has to be okay. He’s the only thing I have in this world.”

  “It seems to be the season for good-for-nothing fathers,” Merna mumbled.

  “What does that mean?”

  Merna turned and saw her daughter pacing the waiting room in the distance. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Breana’s father is back.”

  “The deadbeat that left you to raise a child on your own? What does he want?”

  “Nothing good,” Merna said. “The kids are in for a storm.”

  Lorraine spoke softly, hopefully. “Trenton will wake up, right?”

  “I hope so,” Merna said. “No, I know he will. That’s the only outcome I’m willing to accept right now. With the mess that’s coming, she’ll need him and he’ll need her.”

  “Do you know something?”

  “I only know that if those two plan on getting through the next few months intact, they have to do it together.”

  “Things are only going to get harder, aren’t they?” Lorraine sighed.

  “They will, but I believe in them.”

  “Keep me posted, would you?”

  “I will.” Merna promised and ended the call.

  THE END

  A Word from the Author

  Hello! Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. The last book in the Love Vs. Loyalty series will be out soon! If you enjoyed this story, I would be honored if you would let others know by writing a review on Amazon. Word of mouth is important for an author’s success.

  As a special thank you for buying this e-book, I want to send you another one completely free of charge! You can get it by clicking below.

  Direct Link: Click Me!

  And I’m not done yet! If you can’t wait for the last book in the Love Vs. Loyalty series, click on the link to sign up for my newsletter and get a sneak peak!

  Direct Link to sneak peek: Click Me!

  When you subscribe, I’ll also send you updates when new books like this are available.

  I would love to hear from you at corcorozal@yahoo.com

  You can also follow me on IG: Nia Arthurs @nia_bks and Twitter: @niaarthurs

  Other Books by this Author

  Available on Amazon…

  The Taming Series

  Taming Mr. Jerkface

  Taming Mr. Charming

  Taming Mr. Know-it-all

  Taming Mr. Darcy

  The Seven Realms Series

  Genesis

  Revelations

  The Tree of Knowledge (coming soon)

  Love & Reggae

  Amid the Noise

  Count Me In

  Buffalo Soldier

  Confessions of A Church Girl

  Glass Houses

  Fitting In

  Standing Out

  Standalone

  Whiter Than Snow

  Married By Science

  Tsea

  Fool Me Never

  Audrey’s Choice

  Scarlet

  From the Stars

  River’s Journey

  That Was Then

  Energy

  Becoming Rachel

  Desperate for a Date

  Love In Many Shades Series

  Cece & David

  Cece & David 2

  Cece & David 3

  Cece & David 4

  Boyfriend By Series

  Boyfriend By Blackmail

  Boyfriend By Midnight

  Boyfriend By Design

  Lovesick Series

  Play

  Dance

  Trust

  Love vs. Loyalty Series

  Where Love Lies

  Where Truth Lies

  Where Trust Lies

  WHERE TRUST LIES

  Love Vs. Loyalty Book 3

  Breana and Trenton’s fragile marriage hangs on a thread. Will these two work through their differences and come out stronger in the end? Or will Trenton’s mistake and Breana’s mistrust keep them from happily ever after?

  Find out in the next segment of their journey! Coming soon!

  In the meanwhile, click here for a sneak peek! Direct link: Click Me!

  Read on for an excerpt from another sweet BWWM marriage of convenience novel:

  WHITER THAN SNOW

  CHAPTER ONE

  Stephen McCord cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck, shifting his thin black framed glasses on his nose. The computer screen was beginning to blur and he figured it was about time to take a break.

  He pushed away from the large mahogany desk with the scattered papers all around, the empty soda cans rolling haphazardly to the edge and back, and the pens of various shades and colors littered throughout. He needed to clean that up.

  He’d get right on that.

  He stood, stretching his long arms and then bending down to grab his toes that were incased in black slippers. His stomach growled and he padded to the kitchen to forage for a snack. There was nothing in the fridge but milk that had probably gone bad during the last hurricane forty years ago and an open can of Vienna sausages. He needed to go grocery shopping.

  He’d get right on that too.

  He threw away the milk. Checking the cupboards, he found an unopened pack of chips and gratefully
tore into it, listening to the crackle of plastic as he moved to the window and lifted the shade. The sun was still shining brightly outside. He checked his watch next. He wouldn’t go out until it set a bit more.

  On the way back to his office, he caught his reflection in the solemn round mirror in the hall. Even in the dimness, he spotted the almost translucent quality of his alabaster skin, speckled with dots spread out all over his body.

  He adjusted the glasses again as his image refocused and came sharply into view. Stephen was tall at six feet three inches. His arms were nicely defined thanks to the home gym system he’d purchased a few years ago and employed for a few hours a week when he could spare the time.

  At twenty seven, he’d gotten more than his share of workouts in.

  Stephen stepped closer to the glass, his blue eyes taking in every pinpoint of his features. His face was thin, his nose long and narrow, his lips very pink. When he was younger, the kids at school would tease him about applying lipstick to achieve the shade.

  He ran a hand through his light blonde, almost white hair and wiggled his eyebrows. The light hair on the bridge of his forehead was basically non-existent. Sometimes, he dyed them dark brown for the fun of it.

  He turned away from his reflection and returned to his office, carefully keeping his gaze away from his bedroom. His office looked like a tornado had stormed through the space, but his bedroom had been swept by a tsunami. He shook his head. He was just too busy to pick up after himself. Wiping his cheese coated fingers on his shirt, he returned his attention to the stock he was researching. Stephen made his money buying and trading in petty stock investments online. He worked from his home in Belize, but thanks to his mother’s emergency birth in a plane flying over the US, he was also a US citizen.

  His phone rang at that moment and he rolled his eyes. Speaking of mothers…

  “Hey, ma.” Steven slid his smart phone between his shoulder blade and cheek as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Stephen,” Jenny McCord’s voice sounded over the phone lines. “How are you doing?”

  His mom called to check in on him every week since she lived an hour away in the city of Belmopan. Also, being the youngest of the McCord clan, he drew more of his mother’s concern and fawning.

  “I’m fine, Mom. Same as last week.” He said.

  Stephen was not usually so short with his mother, but his annoyance with the state of his house spilled into his tone. He’d have to go grocery shopping later this evening and he still had a report to finish. Though Stephen worked in Belize, he had to fill out his US tax forms like everyone else. Not the most pleasant of tasks. Especially if he put it off until the last minute.

  “Don’t use that tone with me Stephen McCord.” His mother scolded.

  He sighed and fixed his attitude. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m doing fine. I’m eating alright. My work is paying the bills.”

  “That’s better.” She cooed. “You realize that you’re my baby right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Stephen replied, quickly deciding to try out the new tax filing agency he’d seen online. If he emphasized that money was no object, maybe they’d fit him in during a season when everyone had booked a tax agent weeks in advance.

  He pulled up his email and began a letter.

  TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN,

  “Did I tell you that Martina’s pregnant?” His mother said conversationally.

  Only about fifty times.

  “Yeah, you did, Mom.” He quipped instead. His eldest sister Martina was pregnant with her first child. His mother was ecstatic and was constantly ragging him about his single status.

  I WOULD LIKE TO ENGAGE YOUR SERVICES

  “She wants you to come over, you know. Take a look at her computer.”

  FOR THE PURPOSE OF TAX AUDITING

  “Mom,” Stephen replied. “I’m more familiar with the software of a computer than the hardware.”

  FOR THIS YEAR…

  “Bah, a computer’s a computer.” She chuckled.

  DUE TO THE LATENESS OF THE REQUEST

  “I’ll take a look if Martina really needs me.”

  WHICH IS A FAULT OF MY OWN

  “She’s also got someone she’d like to introduce you to. Her name’s Tiffany Fuentes. She’s a gem.”

  ANY COMPENSATION FOR YOUR WORK…

  Wait. What?

  Stephen focused his attention on his mother’s words. “Mom,” He shook his head. “You didn’t.”

  “The girl’s a lovely woman. She’s tall like you and she’s got the nicest hair, really black and glossy. She comes from a great family too. She knew you in primary school.”

  That didn’t necessarily endear her to Stephen. The kids in primary school had been brutal. Albino skin was not the fashion statement that his mother always made it out to be. And his strange appearance made him a prime candidate for merciless teasing and bullying.

  “Mom, I told you and Martina to stop meddling in my love life. Look at what happened to Erwin. Why don’t you focus on him?”

  Stephen’s older brother was recently divorced. His mom had been heartbroken. She’d sanctioned the match.

  “Your brother needs time to grieve after Alyssa. He’s in no way ready to date again.”

  “I’m not either!”

  “Come on, Stephen! Stephanie was years ago!”

  Stephen ducked his head and rubbed at his eyes feeling frustration build in his chest. Stephanie Wilcox had taken him for a ride two years ago and he’d been desperate enough to fall for her mind games.

  She came from the right family. She was well-spoken, ambitious, sensitive to the limitations of his condition. She’d had them all fooled. The truth was, she tore Stephen apart more than any woman ever had and he wasn’t interested in repeating the mistake.

  “Mom, I’m not going to Martina if she shoves a date on me. You can tell her I said so.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Jenny McCord gave in when she realized that Stephen wouldn’t back down on this one. “I’m only trying to help.”

  Sinking deeper into the comfortable cushions of the swivel chair, the young man ran a hand down his pointed chin. “Like you helped with the fifty blind dates I’ve been on lately?”

  “Stephen, don’t be silly. I suggested a few young ladies that I thought would intrigue you.”

  “You set me up!” Stephen accused.

  His mother tutted into the phone. “Placing blame won’t help any of us right now. Are you coming to church tomorrow?”

  “Why? Do you have someone for me there too?”

  “Stephen, that attitude is getting out of control. You’re not too young for a spanking, you know.”

  He chuckled at the thought. His mom was five feet eight inches but he far outweighed her. “Mom, I’m almost thirty.”

  “I know!” She wailed. “Why do you think I’m trying to get you married? Time is slipping away from you.”

  Stephen laughed because in these situations he could either laugh or cry. “I’ll keep that in mind while I wither away alone over here in this big house that I bought with my boat load of money from my business.”

  “Money doesn’t buy happiness.” His mother pointed out.

  “Love doesn’t either. Just ask Erwin.”

  Sighing loudly, Mrs. McCord cut off that train of thought. “Just have an open mind. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I’ll keep any eye out for a girl that tickles my fancy. Probably take a look around downtown and randomly pick one out.” He joked.

  “Please do,” Jenny said firmly but there was a smile in her voice. “I’m serious about Martina, though. Phillip can draw a house with no issues, but he can’t figure computers out to save his life. ”

  Phillip, Martina’s husband, was an accomplished architect at a local firm. He still drew plans by hand.

  “I’ll stop by after I go grocery shopping, Mom. Promise.”

  “Okay, bye sweetie.”

  They hung up and Stephen checked his watch. The call had eat
en away at his time. Standing quickly, Stephen palmed his keys, leaving the email box open until he got back home. Sliding into his car, he started the engine and adjusted his glasses on his face.

  His genetic deficiency meant that he suffered from near-sightedness but his glasses lens were thick enough to replace a coke bottle bottom and his prescription was strong enough to see objects if he drove carefully. His brother Erwin always joked that Stephen had purchased his license. He’d had a few near-misses in the past, but no one had lost their lives so he hardly felt the accusation was fair.

  The drive to the nearest grocery store took less than five minutes. He hopped out of the vehicle and walked past the automatic doors, striding into the cool atmosphere of the superstore. He tapped his hands on his thighs as he grabbed a basket and headed down the bread aisle. Stephen loved bread, toasted, soft, buttered, spread with nuts or plain. It was a weird obsession that no one in his family shared or understood.

  He ignored the stares as much as he could. Belize City was a predominantly black-Creole community. The whites were sorely outnumbered and people with his shade of skin were extreme rarities.

  Despite his cultural ethnicity stemming more from the Latin community than the European, Stephen was often grouped in as a ‘white man’. He attracted looks wherever he went due to his height, his ghost blue eyes and his extremely fair skin.

  At first the stares had disturbed him. Children would loudly ask their parents questions about who or what he was. He’d felt like a display at the Belize zoo, caged in by people’s judgments about his character because of his skin color.

  At twenty-seven, he was proud to say that he’d finally outgrown the need to fit in. He was never going to magically change. He was stuck with his skin and his face and his eyes and he had learned to be okay with it.

  Stephen’s basket was filled with sandwich meats, a variety of fresh breads, cheeses, and chips by the time he slid behind a young couple holding a baby girl in the line. The child had dark brown hair braided into tiny plaits with green and white beads at the end. Her bright brown eyes regarded him carefully and her thumb was stuck in her mouth. Her brown skin was a beautiful shade of mahogany and Stephen waved kindly at her unabashed appraisal.