“Oh, what do you know about love? You are afraid of it. You’ve been hiding from it for years, refusing to allow anyone to love you.” Amelia hissed.
“Mel….”
“You know what! Maybe you are just incapable of loving someone! You are the one with the problem! Not me.” She shouted.
“I know I have problems. That is why I didn’t want you around from the start, but you didn’t listen, and now look where you are. I’m sorry, Amelia but I will have to take you back. It was a big mistake being with wanted assassins.”
“You are a heartless bastard; you know that! One day you are going to realize that I don’t just love just anybody. I may be reckless and fragile, but I’m not stupid. I don’t get involved with a man unless I care about him. Like I cared about you.” Amelia pulled from his grip and sat in the back of the SUV without any help.
Greyson shut the door. “Want me to drive her back?”
“Can you?”
“Sure,” Greyson said and patted Jack on the back as he walked away and disappeared. He didn’t have the guts to take her back to the agency.
Chapter Nine
Present Day.
“Glad to finally get out in the open air?” Greyson asked as he walked Amelia out of the building.
“Yeah. You don’t realize how much you miss the sunshine and fresh air until you lose it.” Amelia smiled.
“It's a shame that you’ve blacklisted. I think you made a great field agent.”
“That’s alright, Clarke. I’m just happy being acquitted of all charges. I’m very lucky. I wouldn’t want to ask for anything more.”
“What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. Start over I guess. I can’t go home obviously.” Amelia shrugged.
“We’ll keep a permanent watch on you, just in case there’s any retaliation.”
“Thank you, Greyson. Thank you for everything, I mean.” Amelia said as she gave him a hug.
“Take care,” Greyson said as he headed back into the building.
Amelia was sad to see him go. She was sad to know that she wasn’t allowed to be a part of the CIA anymore because of her affiliation, but Amelia was lucky to be glad that she was a free woman.
She turned around just then, and Jack was standing right there.
“Are you alright?” He quietly asked.
Amelia stood there hesitantly at first and then walked up to him and hugged him tightly as she started to cry.
“Shh.” He cooed and wrapped his arms around her. “Easy, darling.”
“What are you doing out here? I thought you took some time off?” Amelia cried.
“I came back. I was waiting for you.”
“For me?”
“You asked if I’d still have you, so I came back for you.” He said tenderly.
“Look Jack. I know how hard it is for you to trust me, especially after everything that has happened to you.”
“Well, I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”
He smoothed her hair and tried to find the words to tell her how he felt. “I was sitting there in my living room, and I noticed how empty it felt without you. I missed your laughter and your smart mouth. I mean I can buy anything in life, but I realized how much I didn’t have you. I wanted you in my life. I want to be with you. I need you.” Jack whispered in her ear.
“I know I have a lot of things to learn and a lot of stuff to change, but I’ll need your help. I love you Jack West.” Amelia said.
“I have a lot of things to learn as well, and I love you too Amelia,” Jack said as he kissed her right then, out in the sunlight.
Amelia felt lucky. Coming here was one of those rash decisions born out of anger and revenge, but somehow she found the one place she had been looking for her entire life, and of all the men in the world, she found the one who needed her the most. Just as much as she needed him.
“You should know, West. I’m not as tough as I appear to be. I don’t let most people see that part of me, most of the time they don’t even understand.”
“I’m glad you trust me enough to show that side of yourself with me. I know you need freedom and encouragement. I promise to give you everything you need to grow and flourish in whatever it is you choose to do from here on out.”
Amelia smiled.
“In that case, you are stuck with me forever.”
The End
I wanted to thank you for taking the time in reading Secret Revenge: Jack. This is book one of a 3-part series that follows the lives of Amelia Petrovich, Jack West and the rest of the CIA field agents.
It brought me great joy to write this as this book is based on a true story that is still occurring as we speak! It should continue to serve as a basis for the rest of the books in the Secret Revenge series. If you can do me a favor and take the time to review my book. I would like your honest feedback that I will take with me as tools to improve this book’s future drafts and the follow-up books in the series.
Thank you once again, and I’ll see you in the next one.
One Little Letter
A Contemporary, New Adult Romance
By Robin Edwards
© Copyright 2016-2017 by Robin Edwards
and Second Chances Press
All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Names and persons in this eBook are entirely fictional. They bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead. To protect the privacy of certain individuals the names and identifying details have been changed. This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Prologue
THERE’S NOTHING wrong with being a hopeless romantic, it doesn’t make you any less of a man and trust me, I am all man. I’d like to think I have swagger, that essence of a man that has women aching for his touch whenever he walks into a room. It’s a quality that tells a woman that she has to have you even when she doesn’t even know your first name.
When I was a teenager, I snuck into my parents’ bedroom and came across my mother’s stash of romance novels when I should have been looking for my dad’s stack of porn magazines, but if you ask me, my mother’s romance novels taught me way more about what women wanted than any magazine could. It taught me what women longed for but didn’t think they could get. What they didn’t ask for but craved.
Trust me I didn’t enjoy reading these books any more than I had to, it was all research. What these books taught me were the little things that made women swoon: the way a man’s pants hung from his hips, they loved abs and the closer was the look you gave. If you nailed the look, you nailed the chick. It was never about the grand gestures or saying the right words, it was the energy you brought into the room. It was how you looked, stood and moved.
I put these habits into practice and I got really lucky and became what you would call – a ladies man. Throughout high school and during my peak in college, I could have had any woman I wanted and they all loved me for it. I was your modern day Romeo and they felt lucky to be seen with me whenever we were seen in public and surprisingly, no let me correct that, it wasn’t surprising that not a single one was jealous that I moved onto the next one the following week.
I bet you are thinking that no woman was that naïve or that I’m exaggerating but it happened. It’s not that the women were brainless, desperate or were weak-willed, they fawned over me because of not only how I carried myself but how I treated them. I was Lothario in the sack. I made them feel wanted and beautiful and they were lucky to be with me.
They were fully aware I was not relationship material
and they were okay with that. None of the women tried to change me, instead they desperately sought out those brief moments they were given to where they were adored, cherished and desired. I started off as a ladies man but somehow I developed a reputation for being a ‘Man for Hire’. Not to be confused with a gigolo or an escort but if that’s what you want to call it, then so be it.
My reputation lasted my entire college career and it was some of the best years of my life and I’m extremely proud of saying that. I still miss it and some days I find myself wanting to travel back in time to relive it all over again. Things were good then, no, things were perfect.
I’m speaking in past tense with words like was, missed, time travel as if it was no longer happening because it did end. All because of a woman. Damn her. I wouldn’t call it karma because what I did for so long wasn’t a bad thing, I made those women feel good – I made them happy about themselves.
You see, during my last semester in college I was at an Irish Pub near campus that all of the students went to in between classes and in the evenings and weekends. I was at the bar one Friday night hanging with my boys discussing my next conquest attempt when I saw her, Amy Garrison. She was the goddess in my Comparative Lit lecture. She was unattainable in the eyes of the male student body.
She looked back at me with bright, effervescent blue eyes and an amazing smile. It was something about the way she flipped or played with her hair when she looked at me that had me weak. When she looked at me under those long, seductive lashes, I knew right then I had to have her. For the first time, my heart dropped but I remained confident in myself. I was confident that I’d win over that seductress.
I also knew she was either interested or played that game. You know the one I’m talking about, the one where they try to get free drinks out of you by flirting, giving you hope that you’d get to nail her at the end of the night. I couldn’t tell which group she belonged to but I was determined to find out.
I approached her with swagger and my ‘go to’ strut. When I got to the area of the bar near where she sat, I leaned on the bar top and asked the bartender for a scotch, neat. When he passed the glass to me, I gave her a sideways glance as I downed the liquid in one fluid motion. I cleared my throat to dissipate the burning feeling scotch always gave me as it slid down my throat.
I decided to just stand there and wait for her to come to me. Typically a woman would because they were tired of hoping that I’d approach them. Amy didn’t because she was too busy playing a little game of her own. She mimicked my usual actions and leaned over the bar exposing her cleavage and asked the bartender for another dry martini and ended it with a slow seductive tongue dance with the olive.
I didn’t know it back then but she was the female version of me. In fact, she was better at it than I was. She had me at that little olive dance. It wasn’t until I had asked her from across our corner of the bar if she would like to dance did I know that it was going to happen with her.
“Sure.” She replied.
I held out my hand as I walked her to the open dance floor in the middle of the dimly lit bar. I choice the corner of the dance floor as it was the darkest part of the dance floor and I figured out of sight, out of mind. I was determined to win this little game we played and I roughly pulled her to me wrapped my arms around her waist and held on tight.
At some point in the middle of the song, Amy and I stopped dancing in alignment with the beat of the song and moved to our own rhythm. The intimacy of holding her close had turned me on and pretty soon I was thrusting my hips at Amy making the bulge in my pants known. I started grinding on her roughly and I held on to her buttocks so I could pull her closer to me as I thrusted at her. Pretty soon we were dry humping in the dark corner.
Something about her had me hornier than I ever been and I was thrusting at her roughly I managed to back her against the wall and I had to have her. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up against the wall and she held on to me as I slammed my cock into her panty covered opening.
“Ugh…” She moaned as my right hand reached down in between and I grabbed her under her skirt. She was so wet. I grabbed the hem of her silk thong and ripped it off and stuffed it into the front pocket of my jeans. I wasted no time and as hard as it was, I unbuckled my belt and lowered my fly with one hand.
I reached into my pants and pulled out my cock and roughly slide into her, “Ohhhhh.” She gasped.
“Ugh…you like that.”
“Wait, what if we’re seen.” She murmured.
“They can’t see us, it’s too dark. Besides, I don’t care.”
I thrusted in and out of her as fast and as hard as I could go and a part of me did it because I was so turned on and the other part of me wanted to win. My thrusts into her created a loud pounding noise that was lost within the beat of the hip hop song that blasted throughout the building.
We ended up going home that night and pulled an all-nighter despite having an exam that upcoming Monday. That was pretty much it for me. That night was the night she nabbed my lifelong allegiance and devotion to her and I became a puppet on a string; she was the puppet master and she used her position well.
I was brainwashed and had developed a case of the ‘I think I’m in love’ – itis. I did anything and everything for her willingly and I was completely in adoration of her. She requested; I gave. This went on for years and we ended up getting married despite her party lifestyle while I stabilized and settled down. This continued up until a few months ago when I found her with another man. Not just any man, my best friend.
I doubted that this was the first time either and I’m pretty convinced that she had her side activities the entire time we’d been together but I couldn’t prove it. All it did was leave me where I am now, bitter and alone. I needed and missed her. I’d rather be in a ‘half-something’ than in a ‘nothing at all’. I turned into a desperate, hopeless romantic. If my college buddies could see me now; they’d laugh hysterically.
Chapter One
SEAN
DEAREST AMY,
It’s been three months since I last saw you when we broke up and I used to think about it a lot but I don’t anymore. Not until today at least. Although the breakup came as a shock and had really hurt me, it’s in the past. I have been doing really fantastic since then and I hope you are doing great too.
“Okay, this should be it. It’s all done.” My business partner and good friend, Patrick said as he dropped client files on top of my desk. We were partners in a small, startup design firm that developed the art creative for a company’s promotional campaigns.
Patrick didn’t notice what I was doing at first and was about to walk away until he noticed a familiar name on the open dialogue box of my email account out of the corner of his eyes before he walked back to his own desk.
He leaned in closer to my computer screen, “What the hell are you doing exactly?” He questioned.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I am just typing a simple ‘How are you doing?’ email to Amy.” I said as I continued to type, ignoring the disdain in his voice.
“It looks more like you are about to lose every last ounce of self-respect and dignity you still have, Sean. Did you not learn your lesson the first time?” Patrick asked as he quickly clicked the DELETE button on my email window.
“Hey! What are you doing? I was about to send that!” I exclaimed in shock.
“I know, that’s why I deleted it. I’m trying to stop you from making a big mistake. What is the point of emailing her?” Patrick asked.
I was at a loss for words and I could not think of anything ot justify my impulsive and longing need to contact my ex-wife. Patrick noticed my lack of justification and continued on his soap box rant, “See there is none. Have you not forgotten that she not only cheated on you, divorced you but she also left you high and dry for your best friend? The man she cheated on you with?”
“Well, if you put it that way. Besides, I thought you were my be
st friend?” I teased.
“No, I am your best friend now because I wouldn’t have had an affair with your ex-wife. Don’t forget she not only ripped your heart of your chest but threw it to the ground and stomped on it into a million pieces.”
“I hadn’t forgotten but it’s been a long time, Patrick, and I think I am at a stage in my life where I can start to forgive her.”
“A long time? It was just three months ago! Do you honestly think she deserves your forgiveness?” Patrick asked.
“I think everyone deserves a second chance.” I shrugged.
“Definitely not her.” Patrick said grabbing his wallet; it was now lunchtime and he was starving. So was I.
“I’ve moved on, but it doesn’t look like you have.” I joked again as I followed Patrick out of the building.
Patrick was my closest friend at the moment and pretty much the only person I hung out with these days. Life pretty much changed after high school and I spent most of my waking hours with Amy and lost contact with all of my college buddies over the years as some of us moved to different states and cities and no longer lived locally to each other. Patrick was the right mix of cynicism, contempt and optimism; if there was such a choice. There were times were he looked at things realistically but he rarely ever thought there wasn’t always another choice.
Patrick wasn’t wrong about Amy at least not logically. Amy and I had been together for seven years but were married for three of them until I caught her in bed one morning with my best friend, Mason. I had come home from work in the middle of the afternoon, which was so unlike me but I had to pick up artwork I had sketched the night before in the home that we shared. It was artwork for a potential client and I didn’t normally come home during working hours but it undoubtedly served as the perfect time for Amy to plan and participate in her extracurricular activities.
Break Away Page 34
