by Nicole Fox
“Oh, yeah,” Kessa said, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand. “Just awful! They were fighting over money or something, that man saying Daddy owed him a lot for this place, and he was going to have to pay up. Daddy knocked him to the ground and went to turn away, and the man just pulled the gun from, uh, somewhere and shot him right in the back!”
Watts looked back and forth between the women, then looked past them to Tambor, who was trying to get up from the floor, pistol still in hand. “Joseph Tambor, huh? Well, no surprise on the money part; everyone in town owes the bastard money.” Watts looked to me and Wilde.
I shrugged. “Pretty much. I mean, I’d say it’s pretty open and shut. He shot Williams in the back. I’d say looks like murder to me. Bet there’s gonna be a lot of people happy Tambor’s going away, though. Like you said, everyone owes him money. Isn’t that right, Sheriff?”
Sheriff Watts smiled knowingly and scratched at a long sideburn. “Don’t I know it. And Daddy was a good friend, too. Sad to see him go.”
“Need anything else from us?” I asked.
“We’ll be in touch,” Watts said with a smile as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “You kids get out of here. I’ll get this locked down.”
The four of us headed up the stairs, without even a glance back over our shoulder. As I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Sheriff Watts say something. “Well, well, well, Joey, you little sack of shit. Looks like I got something to finally nail you to the fucking wall, you slimy sumbitch.”
I grinned and shut the door behind us.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Micah
“Kid, you’re beautiful! Those headshots you sent over, they didn’t do you justice. I can just imagine how wonderful you’ll look on the screen, that shining smile of yours, those beautiful curls. And is that a natural red?”
I smiled from across the desk at the producer, nodding. “Natural, through and through.”
This was my first real audition that Tanner Wilde had set up for me, and I’d made it through the first round. The producer here had called me back for a second one. It was for a small part in some action film, but Tanner had been pretty adamant that I take it, saying that I needed to get my foot in the door somewhere. “Listen, baby,” he’d said, “you gotta hit every audition you can. That’s your job right now. You’re a beggar here, not a chooser.”
And so, here I was.
“Why don’t we get a little more comfortable, though?” the producer asked as he got up from his desk, walked around, and headed to the couch at the back of his office.
I got up from the chair and followed him over to the black leather couch. “Now, Tanner said I wasn’t an exact fit,” I said, settling down on the couch next to the producer, “but that I’d still be as close to perfect as you were going to get.”
He scooted a little closer to me on the couch, took off his glasses, and gave me a look. “Well, your agent’s mostly right. We’re really looking for a blonde for this part, but I think we can swing a redhead for it. What do you think? You got what it takes, sweetie?”
“Well, this would certainly be my first real role,” I admitted. “But I’ve been in all the classes Tanner recommended, and I feel like I’m finally ready for my first substantial part.”
“That’s great, sweetie,” he said, easing his hand down till it came to rest on my knee. “Real great. I’m sure you’d be great in the part, real great. But, you know, I got a hundred girls trying for this role, and they’ve all got the same chops you do. Which is to say, none.”
I looked down at his hand on my knee and cleared my throat uncomfortably.
He squeezed my knee a little. “So, you know, I might need a little encouragement to get you in this flick. You know what that means, right, sweetie?”
I tilted my head a little to the side and bit the inside of my cheek, just as someone knocked on the door. Loudly.
“One second,” he said, then leaned back without taking his hand from my knee. “Cheryl?” he called through the door without getting up from the couch. “Cheryl, I told you no visitors.”
“Ain’t Cheryl,” a man’s gruff voice replied.
The producer got a perturbed look on his face and hopped up from the couch. He opened the door and immediately stepped back when he saw the man on the other side.
“Sorry to disturb you, but I’m here to pick up Micah.” Ford popped his head in the door and looked at me on the couch. “Micah, you almost ready, babe? You got another appointment in thirty, and you know how traffic is.”
“Just a minute, Ford,” I sweetly replied. “Be out in two shakes, honey.”
The producer nodded and shut the door, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple looked like it was bobbing like a cork in water. “That your boyfriend?” he asked, not returning to the couch.
I smiled. “Sorry, he’s just real protective. So, you said I’m perfect, right?”
The producer nodded. “Perfect.”
“Good,” I said, smiling as I got up from the couch. “I’ll let Tanner know you’re not nearly as sleazy as he thought you were. Deal?”
The producer glanced back at the door as if Ford might come bursting through any moment like the Kool-Aid man. “Uh, yeah, sure, sweetie. You got it.”
I smiled, took his hand, and said my goodbyes, before slipping back out of his office.
Ford was waiting for me outside in the parking lot in his new car. Well, new to us, at least. It was a hell of a lot nicer than that old Pontiac of his. It had barely even made it into town.
I climbed into the passenger seat, leaned over, and kissed Ford on the cheek. “Which restaurant are we meeting Kessa and Tanner at?” I asked.
“Same place we always do, honey.”
Epilogue I
Eighteen Months Later
Micah
It was late as I came off the set. Filming wasn’t nearly as easy as I thought it would be. You always imagine it to be catered lunches, pampering, fancy dinners, and glamorous parties. The reality was more like hard labor. Up every morning by four and out the door so you could be in and out of makeup by the time the sun was up. Then, you filmed till the moon hung high over the LA landscape.
The film wasn’t a big deal, but it was my first lead role. A small little indie picture, low budget, but the word from Tanner was that the director was going places. And, if I played my cards right, and the reception was good, then he’d be dragging me into the limelight right alongside him.
Acting was surprisingly brutal, and harder than any kind of work I’d had to do at Daddy’s Mansion. But I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, and I’d never go back to relive any of that time. Except for, maybe, the first night I met Ford Taylor. As rough and dirty as that had been, it was still the most magical night of my life when I looked back on it. Maybe it was just because I was looking back with rose-colored glasses and all, but it was still something special. The first night of the rest of my life.
A car honked at me as I reached the street, and a hand waved out of the driver side window. Ford, with his new car. This time it was new to everyone, not just us. A brand new BMW, one that made him look as successful as he actually was.
I walked over to him in my tennis shoes and jeans. Coming off a set this late, it didn’t matter what you wore. You could come dressed to the nines every morning, and wardrobe would just drop you into whatever was needed anyways.
I opened the passenger’s side door and climbed in. As soon as my butt hit the leather car seat, Ford had his strong, capable hands on me. He touched my cheek, leaned in, and gave me a kiss.
“How was your day, beautiful?” he asked.
“Long, hard, and I’m starving.”
“Well, you’re in luck.”
“Luck, huh? Why’s that?”
“Look in the backseat.”
I craned my head and looked back at the picnic basket sitting right in the middle. “Oh, Ford,” I said. “You shouldn’t have. What’d you get?”
&nb
sp; “Fried chicken, coleslaw, biscuits, some corn.”
“Oh, my God!” I nearly screamed. I was born in East Texas, and all I could get out here was vegan and gluten-free crap. “Ford! My favorite!”
He laughed. And, just like that, we were off.
Epilogue II
Ford
We sat there together on the blanket I’d spread out for the two of us, looking down over the perfect grid of the city of LA. It was so different here compared to the desert. Rather than having the millions of stars in the sky over our head, they lay spread out our feet as we looked down on them from this hilltop.
The last eighteen months had been good to me and Micah, even to Kessa and Tanner, who’d been together since that night. When it came to the case with Joseph Tambor, Sheriff Watts must have realized what kind of a powder keg he was sitting on, and what kind of opportunity he’d had. Tambor had “tried to escape custody” that night. Needless to say, none of us had to go back to that shitty small town to testify against him, and no one ever came looking for the money.
As soon as we got out here, I used Tanner’s connections to set up a personal security firm. The way it turned out, apparently, it was just who you knew in this town. With his contacts to start with, and my own reputation and professionalism, I soon had a staff of guys I managed.
Business was good.
Micah’s career was about to take off, too. Her skill as an actress spoke for itself, and she didn’t have any more problems with the casting couch, like she had early on. Especially not after they heard about me.
But, goddamn, just getting to see her happy every day, happy even with the early setbacks and minuscule successes, made it all worthwhile—all the shit we’d had to put up with back at the Mansion, everything we’d had to go through in the early days as we scraped by on her savings.
“See that down there?” Micah asked, half-eaten drumstick in hand, fried chicken grease shamelessly smeared on her fingers and chin. “We’re going to own that town someday.”
“Think so?” I asked.
She smiled at me and laughed a little. “Know so. The world is our oyster, Mr. Taylor. All we have to do is keep the good vibes flowing, keep a good outlook, and be prepared to work our asses off. Promise.”
I dusted my hands free of breading and laid back on the blanket with my hands beneath my head. Micah tossed her chicken bone back in the container and snuggled up next to me, her head on my shoulder.
“Ford?” she asked.
“Yeah, babe?”
“You still love me, right? My past, it doesn’t, you know, bother you?”
Sometimes she got like this. I imagined Kessa did the same thing to Tanner Wilde, too. They were both girls who were running from their pasts. But I always saw the past as something that was meant to stay buried. We left it behind for a reason. Sure, it was part of us, but only in the way soil was to a tomato plant. The plant grew in the soil, but it sure as hell wasn’t the soil, was it?
“Does it bother you that I used to beat the crap out of guys for a living?”
“No. Why would it? That’s how I met you, isn’t it? You saved me.”
“Exactly,” I said. “If you hadn’t been you, we wouldn’t have met. So why worry about it?”
She kissed me on the cheek, squeezed me tighter, and made a noise. “Ouch. What was that? Carrying your gun again, honey? You know I hate for you to have that while we’re snuggling.”
I laughed. “No, the pistol’s in the glove box.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“Why don’t you,” I teased, “reach in and find out?”
She giggled as she reached inside my coat pocket. “Oh? You’re not just happy to see me, are you?”
“Kind of.”
“Jewelry?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, the tiny ring box from my jacket in her small hands.
“Open it,” I said.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered as she looked down at the open box, as she looked down at my mother’s wedding ring, the same ring that Micah had stolen from me those long eighteen months ago. “Ford!”
“Will you, Micah? Will you marry me?”
She threw her arms around my neck. “God, yes, you big goof! Of course I will! I love you more than anything!”
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her on top of me. We kissed like teenagers, holding each other under the LA sky. “I love you, babe,” I whispered as we broke our kiss. “Always.”
“Always,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “No matter what.”
THE END
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(GIFT #2) AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance
By Nicole Fox
I’M AFFLICTED WITH THE NEED FOR CONTROL.
Koen
She chose the wrong man to beg for help.
I’m not the one she wants.
She’s looking for a saint, a nice guy.
But the closest I’ve been to a bleeding heart is when I ripped the organs from my enemies’ chests.
And yet, here she is.
She’s a queen of chaos spinning webs of lies.
But every time I try to dismiss her, she finds a way to stick around.
Fine. Have it your way, princess.
If you’re going to be here, you’re going to do things my way.
You’ll kneel when I order it.
Strip when I ask.
Moan when I command.
This is my world, and as long as you’re in it, you will do exactly as I say.
Jace
I didn’t ask for any of this.
I didn’t ask to be a working girl.
I didn’t ask to watch my pimp murder my little brother in cold blood.
Most of all, I didn’t ask to run away… straight into the arms of Koen Baldwin, the man responsible for this entire sickening operation.
But I never had a choice.
I belong to Koen Baldwin from the moment I meet him.
He’s a sinner, a bastard, a killer, a rogue.
He’s the reason I’m in this nightmare.
So, with nothing left to lose, I’ve got one mission in mind:
I’m going to do whatever it takes to get my revenge.
I’ll sleep with Koen.
I’ll help his business.
I’ll rally his men.
Hell, I’ll wash his goddamn laundry, if that’s what he wants.
But at the end of the day, I’m going to do just one thing:
Send Koen Baldwin to hell where he belongs.
Chapter One
Jace
I twisted the knob of the hotel room door, my face, lips, and body already set in the “You're the most handsome man I've ever met, and no, I'm not just saying that because of the money” style I'd been practicing for the past four years.
I cocked my hips out to one side, arched my back, and pouted my glossy lips. My heavy eye lids dropped another fraction of an inch, making sure my John would get to fully experience my bedroom eyes before we even made it that far, and I ran a hand through my auburn hair to muss my tresses up a little more. Nothing quite like giving them that “just fucked” look before they even get you out of your dress.
“You're early,” I said with a smile as I swung the door open. “I wasn't expecting you for-”
“Jace? Oh my God, I knew that was you in the lobby!” My words caught in my throat as the boy on the other side of the door pushed his way past me and into the room. Dumbfounded, I just watched him as he came into my room. “I just knew it was you!”
Finally, I found my words, despite my shock. “Tommy?” I asked, my mouth finally working.
My little brother, Tomlin Spears, had just pushed himself into the hotel room where I was about to fuck a random strange
r. I hadn't seen him in going-on four years, ever since I'd run away from the house the night of Momma's funeral. And, wow, he'd changed. He'd grown almost a foot, it seemed, and his face had started to really look like our Daddy's. Same cheek bones, same strong jaw, same dark brown eyes. Now sixteen-years-old, he looked down at me for the first time in our lives.
My heart leaped for joy even as it sunk deep in my chest. He had no idea who I really was anymore, or what I had to do to make it in this world.
Four years can be rough, especially when you start that time by living on the streets. I'll say one thing, though. Paying for rent by working on your back is a hell of a lot easier than living under an overpass. Especially when the rains start up in spring.
