Silent Secrets

by Nikki Bolvair

  Silent Secrets

  By: Nikki Bolvair

  All rights reserved nikkibolvair©2016

  E-book cover design by: Lyn Forester https://www.lynforester.com/copy-of-art-gallery

  Edited by: Covey Publishing, LLC

  ISBN: 9780997799903

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Silent Secrets (The Faith Series, #4)

  Book It With Bolvair List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Find me Info

  Sign up for Nikki Bolvair's Mailing List

  I want to give a big thanks to my editors, Becky and Jennifer, who have poured over this trying to help me to make it right! And also to my readers for believing in me! I love reading your comments and your suggestions! P.S. -Annie, it’s not you.

  Book It With Bolvair List

  The Faith Series

  Love Is Not Lost

  Brokenly Found

  Gaining Ground

  Silent Secrets

  Just Married

  The Lovey Dearest Series

  Delicate Beauty

  Sweet Firecracker

  Honey Babe

  Lovely Dearest (Coming 2018)

  The Lydent Series

  Hidden Light

  The Bridge Over Snake Creek

  Tetchy Sleuth (Coming 2018)

  Winter Fairies

  Frozen Hearts

  Chapter 1

  It was time, I told myself as I gazed down at the ring on my left hand. I glanced up into the bridal room mirror that was cherry wood carved with roses and took in the dress I wore. It was the traditional white, even though nothing else about this marriage would be, but I had to smile. There wasn't any other way I would have it. My gown was sleek and form fitting, flaring out at the bottom with lace details. The empire waist was defined with a band of pearls as were my wrist and my neckline. Lincoln had surprised me with the delicate pearl bracelet and Tyler with the necklace. I looked at my blond hair, which was styled in curls, and then to my ears, which showed off square diamonds that Kayden bought for me.

  A smile teased my lips as I thought of all we’d had to get through to get to where we were now. It seemed like a lifetime then, but now it was here.

  "I don't understand why these shoes don't fit," Wendy exclaimed from behind me as she clomped around in the chosen high heels that were only meant for those who were bridesmaids.

  "Because those are mine," Raina told her as she wobbled her pregnant self over to Wendy. "I need larger shoes because of my swelling. I swear if Kane gets me pregnant again, I am investing in sandals." She glanced over to me and glared. "And why are you the only one who won't be wearing them? Why do we need to suffer?"

  I grinned in the mirror at her. "Because you insisted that the bridesmaids wear heels."

  Raina frowned. "I wasn't pregnant then."

  I chuckled and reached for my veil as the door opened and Sarah came in. She was glowing as if this was her wedding instead of mine. "Ok everyone!" She clapped her hands. "I need a moment alone with the bride."

  Wendy and Raina stepped out as Sarah came to stand beside me. She smiled in the mirror, wrapping an arm around me in a side hug. "I can't believe it. It took you getting married to wear a dress."

  I laughed and gave her a hug. "I've worn dresses before."

  She pulled back and brushed my hair away. "No Faith, you've worn skirts."

  I shrugged one shoulder. "Same thing."

  Sarah shook her head. "Are you ready?"

  I nodded, trying to keep my tears at bay. "I think I was ready a long time ago."

  "Well then let's go get you married!"

  It was beautiful. Brady took my arm and led me down the aisle toward my loves who looked dashing in their tuxes. My heart thundered in my chest, realizing they were finally going to be mine. Music played, and I reached for Tyler's hand as the other two stood beside him.

  I glanced over to Lincoln and Kayden, who both had their eyes dressing me down. I blushed, lowering my head.

  The preacher cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—" Then a door slammed open toward the back of the church, and a voice rang out desperately,

  "STOP! Stop the wedding!"

  My heart hammered as I recognized that voice. No; he wouldn't, I told myself as the four of us turned, shocked to see Tucker there bending over to catch his breath. He did. It was official. He followed me everywhere. "Again?" I said shocked, taking him in. It looked like he’d run all the way here, in the rain no less.

  "He's a dead man," Tyler muttered and started his way over to Tucker, but Lincoln was already there.

  "She can't marry them!" Tucker yelled angrily fighting against them; then his eyes met mine. "I love her!"

  Then he proceeded to start punching each and every person I loved before reaching my side and throwing me over his shoulder, hauling me out of the church doors.

  I struggled and fought, but he just held on. "Let me go, Tucker! Let me go!"

  "Stop, Sweetcheeks."

  "I AM NOT YOUR SWEETCHEEKS!" I yelled at the top of my lungs banging my fist against his back. "Kayden! Lincoln! Tyler!" I cried, hoping one of them would hear me. Come for me. "Please..."

  "Sweetc—Ah, damn, FAITH! Wake up!"

  I felt like a sack of potatoes as I was dropped to the cold ground and pain seared my back. My eyes flew open, and I shot up in bed—well, at least I thought it was my bed, but what I was seeing couldn't be further from it. I was currently lying outside on the cold, black asphalt in the middle of my neighborhood street with an injured Kayden holding his bloody nose. The world paused when I realized what I must have done. There was no one else around—so it must've been me.

  "I'm-I'm sorry, Kayden." My voice was shaky and rough as if I was going into shock. Maybe I was. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the fogginess, and carefully stood up. I leaned over to dust myself off as Kayden used his white undershirt as a towel trying to stop the blood flowing from his nose. He reached for me to maneuver us into his yard and toward his front door. Everything was confusing. I must have been sleepwalking again. And that dream—no, nightmare—had me off kilter. Was my mind trying to tell me something? Maybe it was the fact I had deliberately kept Tucker's sudden appearances a secret from the guys, or that I was now helping him get Roxie back. Whatever my dreams were telling me, my mind was against it. That was the only rational explanation that I had at the moment.

  Glancing around the neighborhood as we headed inside, I had a feeling that I was right. I had sleepwalked, and in my heart, I knew helping Tucker and keeping it a secret was wrong. I needed to fess up. Or maybe just fess up to Kayden. I felt bad. I should have told them immediately after Tucker showed up, but each time I forgot or hesitated. I needed to work on that.

  I looked and saw a few porch lights that were starting to come on, and people were coming out in their night robes. Had I'd really been that loud?

  I felt uneasy as Kayden tugged me inside his already opened front door and closed it behind us. I shook as we headed to the downstairs bathroom, past his brothers and Raina, who had fallen asleep on the couch. I worried as he turned on the light and pulled me into the space then pushed the door closed before any of th
e McGuires could ask what was wrong.

  "Are you ok?" Kayden asked. His voice was slightly muffled by his crumpled up undershirt that was still at his nose. And undershirt that was quickly turning red instead of white. His blue eyes looked haggard and worried.

  I heard someone come downstairs as muffled voices grew louder.

  "Kayden?" I heard his dad from beyond the closed door.

  "We're fine, Dad," he called out, then winced because it wasn't really true. "Give me a moment."

  "Is Daniels in there with you, son?"

  Kayden glanced toward me and answered, "Yeah. Give us a minute, ok?"

  "Not too long. Your brothers are anxious."

  What happened?

  The past few weeks were a blur. Besides getting that message on my phone and Raina getting engaged, nothing significant had happened. After waking up the morning after the party in the McGuire's living room, I had become more withdrawn.

  I had been asleep on an air mattress with the McGuire guys right beside me. Kane and Raina were snuggled up on the couch, as were Peter and Wendy. I remembered thinking, “How can one newspaper bring up all the bad and cancel out the good?” Lincoln told me that Brady and their dad were going to look into it. I was not supposed to worry. I remember nodding and thinking to myself 'I am better than this. It’s stupid to let the past get to me like this.' But I did. I smiled on the outside, but on the inside I was empty.

  Triggers. I had learned about them in Mrs. Shambles’s lectures. I was aware of them. I knew about them. I’d even acknowledged that I’d had a few but... all of this?

  The flashbacks.

  Yasmin.

  The message.

  It was all too much. It was like a wrecking ball breaking down my already thin walls of protection, and one of them just cracked.

  It wasn’t that all triggers were bad. Good ones did exist. Mrs. Shambles called them ‘chocolate senses’ because who didn’t have great memories that involved the delicious, delectable sensation of chocolate? Hershey's even associated their chocolate with kisses, and who doesn't like kisses?

  Good triggers, or 'chocolate senses,' were a genuinely fond memory. You have no control when your thoughts take you there. It's just a glimpse of the past that brings a smile to your lips.

  Or sometimes it’s a scream. Fear. The same concept goes for the evil, very bad, no good triggers, like mine. Mrs. Shambles called these ‘emotional duffels.’ Just like the chocolate senses, emotional duffels can take you back but to a place that is not so pleasant. And sometimes, you just can't control it.

  It's hard to come back from a trigger. It reminded me of why love hurt. Why I shielded myself from the touches of others and why my nightmares had increased. So I became less outspoken, even when I had a cheesy comeback. I stayed in more, only going to the antique store and SSK, where the two kids that I had grown attached to lifted my spirits.

  I knew I should have told Brady how I was doing, but I was sure I could deal with it in my own time and my own way. So when he and Sarah left on a weekend getaway, they left me in the hands of the McGuires with Brady still clueless about my emotional turmoil.

  My guys, though? They weren't as gullible. Hence, the reason I dreamed of Tucker pulverizing everyone that I loved to drag me off into the unknown.

  I was worried about how everything would turn out with Tyler, Kayden, and Lincoln. The wedding in my dream came from Raina's recent engagement. And Tucker was the fear that his interest in me had not changed from a love interest to a friendly one. For me, though, he was more of a nuisance. And I was just afraid.

  "Are you ok?" Kayden asked again, bringing me back to the present. His dad must have told everyone to give us some space, but how long we would get, I didn't know.

  I glanced up at him and nodded, because I didn't have any answers at the moment and it seemed appropriate. Maybe I did need to step it up. Give myself a pep talk. I’d had two weeks to wallow in emotional duffle bag ally. It was time to just get over it already. I sighed at my self-induced pep talk and swept past Kayden to grab some toilet paper off the roll before turning around to face him. I could do this. I felt the scrape on my side as I moved, but I ignored it. I could shake myself out of this and face everyone beyond the bathroom door. My smile faded as Kayden stared at me with his white undershirt still tucked up underneath his nose. His eyes were studying me. I pursed my lips. I could fake it until I made it... right?

  I traded Kayden the stained shirt for the toilet paper, and when he leaned his head back, I corrected him by having him tilt it forward.

  He gave me a weird look; I was sure he was wondering why I had him do that. So I explained, "You don't want the blood to run down your throat, do you?"

  "No," he answered.

  See? I was already improving. I said more than three words just there. ‘Fake it till I make it' was a go.

  I turned away from Kayden and ran the cold water from the bathroom sink, wanting to soak his undershirt before it stained with blood.

  "Daniels, what was the dream about?" He was closer to me than he was before, and his voice was no louder than the barest whisper. He probably didn’t want to scare me, and I was grateful. I didn't want anyone else knowing what went down, and I was sure the other two McGuire brothers were waiting impatiently for us to come out of hiding.

  Tyler, Lincoln and I had watched movies earlier that evening with Raina and Kane. Kayden had worked late, but when he came home, he must have found me asleep and decided to drag me into his room. I remembered the walk there; with my sleep filled haze, I’d thrown myself onto his bed before he even had taken off his shoes. I must have sleepwalked down the stairs and out the front door with everyone unaware... well everyone but Kayden.

  "Daniels?"

  I just shook my head, not wanting to voice what my dreams had conjured up. I was happy for that slightest moment within my dream. Marrying the three of them was something I wanted desperately at some point, but I was also embarrassed. I didn't want to tell any of them about it. What if they felt awkward after I explained and they weren't even thinking about that kind of commitment yet? But also the sheer fact that there were a lot of unknowns for me, in my dream world, to assume that's where we were headed. It was just all complicated.

  Kayden sighed, sliding up right behind me and threw the bloody toilet paper away before wrapping his arm around the front of my shoulders and pulling my back to his front. I felt the warm tingles and comforted at the same time when he did this. "I woke up to find you outside, walking in the middle of the street. When I touched you, you flipped out. It wasn't like last time," he said, referring to the incident with me sleepwalking at Denny's pond. His chin met the top of my head, and I glanced up at him through the bathroom mirror. My eyes caught his. There was no sign of any blood, but his nose looked a little swollen. I winced, looking at it. "I'm sorry."

  He smiled. "It's not the first time I've been punched in the nose, Sweetcheeks." His other hand swept down my left arm, taking a hold of my hand and intertwining our fingers together.

  "I dreamed once that I was a caterpillar," Kayden stated seriously.

  That was so unexpected that I had to laugh. “What? No way. You're totally making that up."

  His eyes were wide with innocence as he denied my claim. "I am not. I was ten, and I dreamt that I was a caterpillar on a wall, and I was worried about not eating enough and about making my cocoon so I could become a butterfly."

  I was sure what followed next was some analogy about how he found his food and became the most gorgeous butterfly ever. But I humored him.

  "Ok. So you were a caterpillar."

  "Hey don't sound so convinced, will you? The only reason I remembered this dream is because back then in school we were studying the life of a caterpillar."

  "Did you turn into a beautiful yellow butterfly that no one could deny?"

  "Are you going to listen, or are you going to tease me?"

  "I am listening," I quipped.

  "Good. No. A bird swooped
down and ate me,"

  "What?" This time I chuckled with amusement because it wasn't at all what I was expecting. I turned around in his arms and found him smiling.

  "What was the point of the story then?"

  Kayden’s smiled dimmed as he caged me in, hands planted on the bathroom counter on either side of me. "To make you laugh."

  "Was it even true?" I asked, feeling like my old self again.

  His grin was back, and it widened even more so. "Every bit of it."

  My grin grew, and as I kissed him, I put my hands on his chest and slipped them up until my arms circled his neck. He lips met mine while his hands left the countertop to hold my lower back. As his hands slid downward, past my butt to my upper thighs, he slipped his hands through the leg holes of my boxer shorts where they curved around my bare butt. I hadn't worn underwear to bed.

  "Holy Hell, Faith," he groaned, realizing this.

  He lifted me up so that I was sitting on the bathroom counter and stepped in between my legs so that we were flush. His mouth pressed harder on mine as if he was punishing me for making him hot.

  His hands rubbed my butt as if he was a blind man trying to see. He bit my lip before his hands pulled back to my thighs, and my heart hammered. He was so close. All he had to do—He gripped my thighs and pulled them wider apart to press more fully into me.

  He was going to kill me with lust.

  "Faith." He pulled back his hands sliding away from my legs and up my body to grip my neck and tilt my chin up pulling his lips away from mine.

  I opened my eyes to see his had turned to the color of warm tropical oceans that I had only seen in pictures. He had questions. I could see them burning inside of him.

  "What?" I whispered breathlessly.

  "Tell me about your dream, Faith." His voice was strong. Determined.

  I sighed and glanced down to his bare chest and muttered, "You sound like Lincoln."

  "If that's what I need to do so you'll talk to me, so be it. I'm flexible like that."

  My hand tugged a single hair on his chest in retribution, and he grabbed my hand halting it. "Ouch.”