AFTER THE DUST SETTLES
California Dreaming 3
Stacey Johnston
Stacey Johnston - Copyright 2016
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
The storyline, characters, and fictitious government agencies are nothing more than a fragment of my weird and wonderful imagination, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Edited by Toni Michelle
Cover Designer: Clarisse Tan – CT Cover Creations
Cover Photo: Jonny James
Photographer: Kruse images & photography: models & boudoir
Author Bio
Stacey Johnston resides in one of the southern suburbs of Perth, Western Australia with her husband, four children and a lovable Alaskan malamute called Storm.
At one time or another, each of us has wished that our lives reflected those of the characters we read in books, or watched on our television screens. As a child, Stacey was no different and found she could create stories in her head. Stories where her characters could come alive and she could escape when life around her became difficult.
Leaving home at 17, she moved from family member to family member trying to find her place. During those early years, alcohol became her closest friend, and her characters and stories in her head really started to blossom. It was not until she met the man who would become the father to her oldest two children that she started to settle down.
For the next twelve years, Stacey dedicated her life to her partner and their two beautiful children. Her stories were continuing to grow, but so was her desire to put them on paper and share them. Tragically, after losing her partner to a heart attack her grip on reality started to slide and it was during this time that her characters evolved.
During her time of need, Stacey found a soul mate who would later become her husband and give her two more equally beautiful children. With his love, support and encouragement Stacey finally found the courage to put her characters and stories onto paper.
Stacey's hope is that other readers love her characters as much as she does. Her wish is that they are caught up in their stories, experiencing their joy and pain just as she has over the years.
Italian Glossary
Grandma – nonna
Daughter – figlia
Son – figlio
Grandpa – nonno
Mother - madre
Father – padre
Brother – fratello
Sister – sorella
My Angel – mio Angelo
Chapter One
??Sometimes, following your heart means losing your mind…
??Present…
Sean
“Sean darling, please take a break. You have been hiding in here all day,” my mother pleads from the doorway.
There’s a sadness to her voice that’s been there since the day we lost Sherlyn. It’s small and soft, and full of despair each time she addresses me.
“I have your supper ready, please join us,” she quietly requests.
At the mere mention of food, my stomach reacts, grumbling loudly. I should probably go, seeing as my eyes are starting to get heavy, and my brain hasn’t been functioning properly for the last hour.
“Yes, just let me log off.” I attempt to appease her, keeping my eyes on my screen to avoid seeing the sadness I hear in her voice, reflecting in her eyes.
For the last ten months, since Sherlyn’s death, Hawke and I have been working on bringing down the Alexandria family. Although they weren’t responsible for the mindset of the sick son of a bitch who murdered her, they are the reason she had a target on her head to begin with. Someone needed to be held accountable for what Vincent Salvatore did and that someone is going to be Jason Alexandria. There was more than enough evidence against them to bring down their organization, but we still couldn’t secure the monetary link between them both. Hawke wants to make sure that, this time, he goes away for good.
Unfortunately, everything I have found to date is above board, and legal, or so it would seem anyway. Whoever handles the money side of their organization is really fucking good at hiding shit, but I will crack it eventually. What I need to do is work out how these direct deposits and the account they end up in are linked. I have been researching offshore banking during what little spare time I allow myself. If there is a link, I will find it, you can count on it.
All we do know, for now, is that the money they transfer bounces a few times before it reaches its final destination. Why it does this, we still don’t know, but what we do know is the name on the account is a fake one. There is no known person by that name. To make things even more intriguing, the date of birth used was Sherlyn’s.
My mother is probably right, though, what I really need tonight is time away from these monitors. Maybe I need another assignment, an escape from the ghost that haunts my dreams, something to help silence my troubling thoughts. The most likely outcome will be me visiting my sister back in Solana Beach. She has been pestering my father to get me to go, but I keep resisting.
I love Sophie, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not her I’m struggling to face, it’s Stephen. I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore when he, Ben, Kyle, and Luke moved into our home. That was when I alienated myself and became a stranger. It couldn’t hurt to head back, even if it’s just for a short while. I miss Soph and her stupidity so much, hell I miss everyone, but that dark cloud that shadows the group now is just something I haven’t wanted to face.
I still feel at fault somehow ~ I always will.
After another quiet meal, I make my way back to my room. When we moved out this way, I chose the one located at the rear of Hawke’s home, in hopes of avoiding prying eyes. It was no secret I had started to prefer my seclusion, hidden in my sanctuary away from sad glances and worrying words. My mother now knows how I feel about Sherlyn, she probably has since the beginning. I was stupid to think that she wouldn’t notice, to be honest.
It has saddened me over these past few months as I have watched her struggle to come to terms with the senseless murder of someone she had grown close to. Sherlyn became an adoptive daughter to my parents, so much more than the foster child label child protective services gave her. Both my parents took her death hard, especially my mother.
She may give a brave appearance, but deep down, she is a fragile, gentle woman at the best of times. A beautiful woman with her own demons, ones you will never hear her speak about, ones that involve her own parents. What devastated her the most, was knowing how hard they fought to give Sherlyn a normal life, for it to be taken away so suddenly. Her struggle led to her spending a few weeks with her brothers, my Uncle Callum to be exact, at his Californian home.
My guilt goes way beyond that of my mother’s. The guilt that I harbor is for my selfishness and the way I treated her. For those short few weeks, I chose to place a wedge between us, staying away because it hurt too much being in her presence. I’ll be direct, it was for no other reason than I couldn’t bear to see her and Stephen together. It just confirmed that she would never be mine.
What it amounted to was a whole lot of nothing. I wasted the precious time I had left with her, by avoiding her. In the end, she was taken away from us all, and that is something none of us can ever get back.
Hawke confided in me after she was gone that the things he saw that day echo throughout his thoughts often, and that’s exactly how I feel right now. There is a b
lack and white version of the day Sherlyn died playing on a loop, constantly in my thoughts, and it’s depressing as all fuck. I just want it to stop.
I became numb when the doctor told us that Sherlyn hadn’t made it. I didn’t believe him at first. All I could think was no… they must have the wrong girl, because the one we brought in was still alive and breathing.
Surely, what he was telling us couldn’t be true, it wasn’t allowed to be.
When the news started sinking in, my whole body caved, slumping against the wall. In the distance, I could hear my sister wailing, although, at the time, she sounded a lot further away than the mere feet it was. At first, I tried to console both her and my mother, but their blubbering was only forcing me to sink faster. I ended up having to shut them out, focusing on anything but the reason we were all gathered.
As soon as my parents left with Stephen to view her body, I ran, leaving the hospital on foot. I spent endless hours just walking. I couldn’t tell you how many blocks I walked. All I know is, I eventually ended up on Atlantic Avenue, heading toward the water. I was lost, a withdrawn nobody in a sea of endless faces. I spoke to no one, and kept my gaze on the concrete path beneath me.
I could feel my cell buzzing in my pocket, but I paid no attention to it. When I finally did check it, I found that Sophie and my mother had tried endlessly to reach me. There were well over forty missed calls between them. I don’t know what stopped them in the end, but I was grateful. All I needed at the time was to be by myself, my head needed clearing in a way that neither of them could assist me with.
That was the day I found another way of escaping the demons in my head for a while.
Ten months earlier…
“Hey sugar, why the sad face,” a sexy voice drawls from behind me.
I don’t know how long I have been sitting on this bank, but my feet fucking ache.
Where the hell have I ended up?
Looking around, I notice a cute little brunette leaning against the light pole, gazing at me dreamily. I don’t understand why the fuck she is staring in my direction.
“Whatever you are selling, I’m not interested,” I holler over my shoulder, turning back toward the water as if to clue her in on my disinterest.
“Oh, I’m not selling anything honey, just making an observation,” she replies, her voice sultry, causing my cock to betray me.
Fuck me….
Moving slightly, I try not to make it too obvious that I’m re-arranging myself.
“Then leave, because I’m not in a talkative mood, and I don’t want to be fucking rude.”
Thinking she had left, I continue staring out into the abyss, my vision not really focusing on anything in particular. Thoughts of Sherlyn are taking back over, flooding my head with memories of her from the night before. She looked stunning at that restaurant, her face beautiful and relaxed, like she didn’t have a care in the world. Little did she, or any of us, realize, just twenty-four hours later, the butcher who had cornered her would, in fact, succeed in murdering her. I doubt any of us really believed that he would get to her, but fuck, were we all wrong.
Movement beside me scares the crap out of me, making me jump. “What the fuck,” I yell, squirming backward.
A snigger beside me alerts me that instead of leaving, my new brunette friend has chosen to stick around.
“Relax sugar, I’m not going to hurt you.” She laughs, sitting her ass down on the grass near me.
I watch as she inches closers, taking the opportunity get a better look at her.
Whoa, what can I say…? She is fucking gorgeous. With looks like my mystery girl, I couldn’t imagine her having any problems being a model. Her flawless face is having a mesmerizing effect on me, and all I can do is stare. It’s embarrassing the hold she has on me right now, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m stuck on her emerald green colored eyes. They are bright and gorgeous, and capable of dragging you under. If she were a river, I would be drowning right now. I’m trying to break the hold she has on me, but fuck me, it’s not that easy.
A smile comes to my face as I watch her struggle to reign in her long, wavy hair in the wind. My eyes drop to her mouth, watching as she slips her tongue across her bottom lip to moisten it. My own mouth dry as fuck as I take in the image before me. My cock is really standing to attention now, straining behind my boxers, screaming to be set freed.
Her lips curl at the side, obviously noticing my shameless gawking. “See something you like darling?” she drawls at me once more.
Looking further down, I finally get a good look at the rest of her body, and yep, my cock is in love. Her fucking tits barely fit the tank she is squeezing into, and those legs of hers go on for miles. It’s not helping that the shorts she’s wearing leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
In short, this girl is hot as fuck.
“There isn’t anything about you that I don’t like babe, but now’s not the time,” I finally confess.
I’m shocked at how much confidence I’m showing right now. Since when do I have the balls for this shit?
Oh yeah, since last night, I smirk to myself.
“I could relieve some of that stress for twenty bucks,” I hear her say.
She is unrelenting, and the sass in her voice amuses me, although I don’t know if I am in shock, or disbelief, over her abruptness.
“What? You’re going to blow me for twenty bucks, is that what you are saying?”
I’m now staring at her again, yes, it’s disbelief I’m feeling.
Continuing, I taunt. “Why would I pay you, when some random was on her knees blowing me last night in a men’s room for nothing.”
Her response is instant, “What makes you think I can’t do it better?”
Touché, I will give her that, but I’m still not paying her twenty bucks to suck my cock.
“Planning on doing it on this bank, are you?” I snarl.
I don’t mean to be nasty, but she is grating on my nerves now. What part of no doesn’t she get?
“I’ve done far worse on this bank,” she quickly throws back at me.
Taking another look in her direction, she has a sad, void look, but for all I know, it’s just an act to mug me. Sighing, I give it a few minutes before responding to her.
“Sorry babe, timing is bad, I’m far from in the mood, regardless of how hot you are.”
Rising, I turn away from her once more. There are two women who are going to remove my testicles if I don’t let them know I’m okay. I should probably call at least one of them. It’s not like I can sit here all night, especially with this ice-cold wind.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” she calls out.
Stopping, I spin around and stare.
“Why are you persisting? What kind of game are you playing at?”
I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop staring at her. I’m fucking stunned that she is still trying to work me. What the hell is her deal, anyway?
“I don’t play games, I’m just asking a question,” and now she has me curious.
“No, I don’t trust you. Are you happy now? For all I know, some big ugly dude is hiding behind that tree waiting to attack me.”
The laugh that escapes her throat is something I would expect from Ben or Luke, and definitely not from a girl. It’s so fucking deep and loud. I’m glad she finds me so fucking amusing, but I don’t have the patience for her bullshit.
“What’s so amusing?” I growl.
“You,” she giggles.
Scratching the back of my head, I just gawk at her, she really does have me at a loss. I don’t know what I’m supposed to make of this one. She isn’t what I’m used to that’s for sure.
“I won’t hurt you sugar, and there’s no dude hiding behind a tree. Just me and you, and my offer to relieve whatever the hell is wrong with you.”
Standing, she shakes the grass off her ass moving toward me, stopping only when we are inches apart. With her breath on my neck, she leans in, using one hand to gently gri
p my face as she pulls my head closer to her own.
Whispering, she says, “Let me help you, I know something is wrong. I don’t want your money. I just want you.”
As if I’m in a trance, I nod, agreeing to whatever she has asked, letting her lead me away from the bank.
“Don’t worry darling, I’m not dragging you down an alleyway. I live close by.”
Releasing my held breath, I sigh. I’m breathing heavier than normal as I give in and let this gorgeous girl lead me to what could possibly be my own death.
How ironic would that be?
*****
Within minutes, we arrive at her apartment and I have to admit, it’s not what I was expecting. Considering the dump that we had to live in a few months ago, I was kind of expecting something similar. Leading me into her living room, our silence is becoming unsettling. We haven’t spoken a word since she grabbed my hand, and I am yet to work out if that is a good thing.
Staying put, I stand against the wall, right where she leaves me, watching as she wanders into her kitchen. Looking around, it really isn’t what I had envisioned at all. My new friend’s furnishings are really girlish, not what I was expecting. While I wait for her to return, I take in all the pastel colors she has decorated with, and think to myself that maybe my first impression was wrong.
“Sit,” she commands, handing me a glass of water.
Bossy little thing, isn’t she. I can’t deny being turned on right now. “What’s your story, mystery boy?”
Yep, I was right, bossy. I’m liking this one.
“What makes you think I have a story,” I offer in return, taking the glass from her.
I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I was until I placed that cool water to my lips. Gulping it down, I drink every last drop.
“Thirsty, I see,” she replies as I place the glass on her table.
“Girl of few words,” I tease in return.
After the Dust Settles (California Dreaming Book 3) Page 1
