by Amy McKinley
Bound by Secrets
Deadly Isles Special Ops, book 2
Amy McKinley
Arrowscope Press, LLC
Bound by Secrets
Copyright © 2021 Amy McKinley
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
(p) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-03-0
(e) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-00-9
Publisher: Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com
Editing— Kate B., Line Editor, Virge B., Proofreader, Red Adept Editing
Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com
Author photo provided by—Brookelyn Anhalt of lovely.life.photography; https://www.facebook.com/LovelyLifePhotography-102253596490708
Interior Formatting & Design— Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com
Contents
1. Kayla
2. Kayla
3. Jaxon
4. Kayla
5. Kayla
6. Jaxon
7. Kayla
8. Jaxon
9. Kayla
10. Kayla
11. Jaxon
12. Jaxon
13. Kayla
14. Kayla
15. Kayla
16. Jaxon
17. Kayla
18. Jaxon
19. Kayla
20. Kayla
21. Kayla
22. Jaxon
23. Kayla
24. Kayla
25. Kayla
26. Jaxon
27. Kayla
28. Kayla
Fake Fiancé
Also by Amy McKinley
About the Author
1
Kayla
My mind was made up. I was leaving Roy, and there was nothing he could say to stop me.
My outrage snapped and crackled with each step as I paced in front of the large flat screen, blind to the wall-to-wall windows highlighting the azure ocean off the Ala Moana Beach. The too-real images on the sports channel mocked me, playing highlights of his fight. The match was spectacular, and he’d won by a knockout in the third round. The blonde on his arm, the one caught on camera with her tongue in his very willing mouth as he’d left the stadium, wasn’t.
I’d believed him when he’d told me how much I meant to him—I’d even moved in with him. I thought the four months we’d spent dating meant something—specifically, monogamy. It hadn’t.
The sound of the lock tumbling and the whoosh as the door opened told me he was home. An avalanche of rage fueled me as I stomped across the wooden floor in the condo I shared with him, intercepting Roy seconds after he entered the living room. The image of him kissing then walking out of the arena with one of the numbers girls played on repeat in my mind. I had been warned about him. I should have listened.
We stood toe to toe, and I tilted my head back to take in the behemoth size of the heavyweight champ while the lingering scent of sweat, blood, and another woman’s perfume washed over me. His pursuit of me, the overwhelming gifts, and all the sweet moments we’d shared fizzled to nonexistence, and I questioned how much I knew him in the aftermath of one fateful evening. Mouth pinched in a tight line, I crossed my arms and waited.
A wide grin stretched his handsome but battered face. “You should have been there. It was spectacular.”
“I watched your fight.” Did he think I wouldn’t?
When he went to touch me, I spun around, putting some space between us. “Why? Why should I have been there, when you had all the company you needed? I saw you tonight, Roy. I saw her.”
Unblinking, he crossed his mammoth arms over his chest and glared. “Think before you say something you’ll regret.”
“Threats?” My voice rose an entire octave, and I waved my hands around. “Are you kidding me? You kissed one of the numbers girls. You left with her glued to your side. And I’m supposed to watch what I say?”
There was a loud crack. My head whipped to the side. My body helplessly followed the momentum while agony burst through the left side of my face. I landed in a heap on my side. I hadn’t seen it coming. He’d moved too quickly. That was why he was the undefeated champ, who’d won another title hours earlier.
Before I could get up, his fingers dug into my hip, forcing me to turn to my back. Then he straddled my body, looming over me.
I tasted true fear.
His hand closed around my neck, and he applied pressure. Panic sizzled through me, and my eyes went wide.
“I see the honeymoon is over,” he rasped through swollen, split lips. “Let’s get one rule straight. You don’t get to complain.”
His brown eyes were cold, hard, and as unyielding as the rest of his title-winning body. I bucked against him with no success. How did I not see this coming? His wandering eye was well known, but he’d been so sweet to me—until now.
“You’re my girlfriend, living in my home, and you’ll do what I say.” He squeezed, applying more pressure.
My access to air was minimal. I thrashed underneath him.
He whispered in my ear, “There are rules to follow. The most important to remember is that I own you.”
Through the haze of terror, his words hit home like the unyielding steel of a jail cell door slamming.
Black spots crowded my vision as I sucked air through a constricted windpipe, desperate to fill my lungs. A wave of dizziness vied with intense fear. My hands curled around his wrists, nails embedding into his skin like claws. Tingles spread all over me. My muscles weakened then went slack. I felt weightless despite the heavy man over me. My dead-weight arms flopped to my sides, and the world faded a little more.
There was no air. Sheer panic morphed into the horrifying realization that I would die.
Awareness slowly trickled back in. The dark void I was in grew lighter, and shapes formed. I didn’t know how long I’d been lying there. My body was both weightless and heavy. Light gradually filtered back, as did Roy’s voice from somewhere other than directly over me. Although painful and raw, there wasn’t anything crushing my throat. He wasn’t on top of me. But I wouldn’t let that detail lure me into a false sense of security. I didn’t move, didn’t alert him to the fact that he hadn’t killed me. Maybe he’d meant only to bring me to the brink of death.
Whatever his intentions were, they were bad enough for me to know I had to be careful in my escape. As I lay there, plotting, I tried to pick up as many clues as possible about who he was talking to and whether he was leaving. We had a balcony off the living room, but we were up too high. I couldn’t leave that way. It would have to be the front door.
The longer I remained on my back, the more the dizziness receded. My mind whirled, and my muscles twitched with the desperate need for action.
The door slammed, and I was instantly on my feet, moving through the living room to our bedroom. I yanked the closet doors open, heaved my suitcase onto the bed, ripped my clothes from the hangers, and haph
azardly stuffed them inside. Next, the bathroom. Everything went into small garbage bags I found under the sink. If I ended up leaving something behind, I wasn’t coming back.
I settled my oversized purse on my shoulder and went from room to room, filling it and my arms with anything that was mine. I was almost out of there. With my suitcase packed and rolling behind me, I paused at the entrance to the office. I swallowed painfully then went to the desk, pulled the drawers open, and riffled through the contents. There! I palmed the flash drive with the Honolulu Star-Advisor logo then slipped it into my pocket. I tore through the condo on winged feet, passed through the entrance, and, once the elevator arrived, got inside.
My death grip on my suitcase didn’t ease as the floors ticked away with each muted ping. I locked down the muscles in my shaking legs as best I could when the elevator softly thumped to the garage floor, bypassing the lobby entrance all together. The last thing I needed was to exit where there were bound to be people, possibly press, and draw attention to myself.
With a whoosh, the doors retracted, and I stepped over the threshold, my suitcase bumping along behind me. My flip-flops clapped against the marble floor, and I ducked my head as two residents made their way to the elevator I’d just vacated, their chatter like a spike driving through my skull to the beat of my pounding headache.
Tears streamed down my face. With each swallow, my throat felt like I’d ingested shards of glass. My Honda Civic was two cars away. I hurried over, hit the unlock button, and threw my belongings inside.
Roy had a small storage unit in the garage not far from where I parked. He’d given me the combination, as I frequently went in and out with my surfboard. If I didn’t think I had the time, I would have left it, but I’d caught a couple of words from the phone call. It’d sounded like his agent, and I guessed he was meeting him somewhere. Maybe another press opportunity.
Whatever it was, I didn’t care, so long as I was able to get away from him. I jogged over to the locked units along one side of the wall, moving to the unit marked as his. With practiced ease, despite my trembling hands, I got the board out, returned the short distance to my car, and secured it on the roof rack.
I climbed inside, buckled up, and pressed the start button. The engine turned over, accompanied by the sense of freedom rushing into me. I threw the car into reverse, backed up, then got the hell out of there.
My windows were down, and the humid Honolulu air rushed in, whisking away my tears and drowning out the sound of my sobbing. I wanted to put distance between us but couldn’t go home—not yet. I figured I would be safe for at least one night. My car ate up the miles despite the evening traffic. I needed somewhere to sleep. Tomorrow, I would move again.
After a couple of hours of sleep and with ice on all the places he’d bruised, I would be able to function again. Because there was no way I would make it easy for him to kill me, leaving my parents to bury another one of their children.
2
Kayla
One week later
I was in dire need of caffeine but stood on the sidewalk in front of the Coffee Hut, held prisoner in an endless stream of small talk with one of my parents’ friends, Mrs. Simon. As people came and went through the entrance, many with to-go cups, my mouth salivated. The rich aroma of the beans wafted my way from inside. Resolved, I toughed it out and chatted, hoping for a break so I could excuse myself and feed my morning addiction.
In a slow ascent, the sun’s rays chased the early-morning chill from the Honolulu air. I sensed the conversation coming to a point where I could extract myself when all the fine hairs on my body stood at attention. I felt, rather than saw, someone watching me. Fear skated along my spine. Although I was somewhat aware that it wasn’t Roy, that didn’t register with my fight-or-flight readiness. I sucked in a breath, interrupted our conversation with some excuse, and said goodbye.
On the balls of my feet, I pivoted, tense and ready to run, and almost dropped to my knees as desire hit me at the sight of the only man I’d ever loved. Or wanted.
Fortunately, reality slammed into me, and I scowled. I had to have been delusional. I hadn’t seen Jaxon Hale in years, and judging by my last relationship, I probably shouldn’t have trusted myself. What did I know about love when I was a teenager?
“Hey, Kayla.” His deep, commanding voice wrapped around me like a lasso, and I took an involuntary step forward. My mouth watered at the sight of my high school crush, holding a to-go cup of much-needed coffee. I tore my gaze away and audibly swallowed. I can do this.
A week had passed since the incident with Roy, enough time for the swelling and majority of the bruises to fade. But going home wasn’t an easy decision, and I hadn’t counted on running into him. Even though I’d run into his brother, Xander, at the beach, surfing with friends during one of my visits to see my parents, I thought I would somehow be able to avoid Jax.
Jaxon was many things: my brother’s best friend, my kryptonite, and all my firsts—until he failed us both.
I fought through my lustful gaze, tilted my chin defiantly, and returned the hello through clenched teeth. No matter how much I loathed him, I could feel his touch from all those years ago. No one had ever been able to surpass how he’d made me feel. And God help me, I still wanted him.
I squared my shoulders and let the anger and pain from that night rise like a shield around me. “I heard you were working for my dad.”
“For now. Xander mentioned that he saw you at the beach with some friends. His favorite part of running into you was hearing that you had a new nickname for me.”
Oh, right! A burst of laughter made it past my lips. I so needed that. “Yeah, Jackass. It fits, doesn’t it?”
If I hadn’t known Jax so well, I would have missed the tightening of his mouth and flash of pain in his deep-brown eyes. But that couldn’t have been real. He held no remorse for abandoning Kieran and me when we’d needed him most.
“Where’ve you been? I would have thought you’d be here for your dad’s surgery.”
“I was.” I barely held back the growl, but it cost me, and my voice shook with it. “I came for the first few days then had to get back for work.” I cringed at the lie, but he didn’t need to know I’d gone back because of Roy. “I’m here now.”
His eyes skimmed me from head to toe and back again. I took a step forward, done with our meaningless talk and in dire need of caffeine. When I neared the door—and him, because he was leaning against the brick between the large front window and the entrance—his hand shot out and lightly grasped my arm.
I jerked at the touch, which made traitorous heat pool low in my abdomen, and snapped, “What are you doing?”
“Don’t go yet, Kayla. It’s been a long time, and it would be nice to catch up. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
I wasn’t going to get away as quickly as I’d hoped, but coffee would help. “Carmel latte, please.”
He went inside, and I settled on one of the wrought iron chairs around the few tables crowded on the sidewalk near the window. I didn’t want to go inside, as I suspected the walls would feel like they were closing in on me. I was glad I’d worn a stretchy short-sleeved T-shirt and yoga pants. A long-sleeved high-neck shirt would have been preferable, but I didn’t anticipate seeing anyone, as Honolulu was a big and busy city. I should have realized that I would know someone at the Coffee Hut, as it was a favored place for people I knew.
My parents had kept me informed about Jaxon, even though I’d told them I didn’t care. They liked to tell me, when I visited, that he was still single. Fortunately, he’d been on missions with the Navy many times, and the likelihood of an encounter had been slim to none—but not anymore.
Nervous, I crossed my legs, bouncing the top one and then pulling my hair forward, so it covered as much of my neck as looked natural. Even though the bruises were fading, I’d caked on makeup to ensure they weren’t noticeable.
I jumped when the door opened, and Jaxon came out with my coffee in an extend
ed hand. Grateful, I took it and tentatively sipped the liquid. It was hot. I pried the lid off then blew on it, willing it to cool faster so I could infuse the life-altering caffeine into my body.
He took a seat across from me and leaned back in his chair. His eyes were observant, his body deceptively relaxed. I’d seen him go from that pose to immediate action. There was nothing about Jaxon that wasn’t lethal, especially to my heart.
Beneath my lashes, I studied him further. The decade we hadn’t been in contact had been good to him—he was more handsome than ever. Athletic and muscular, he’d always turned heads. It was easy for a woman to get lost in the penetrating gaze of those warm brown eyes, which saw more than we ever wanted him to. The crescent scar over his left eye begged for my finger to trace it. He exuded power. The night we’d shared, then the betrayal, hung in a heavy, unspoken silence between us.
“Will you be staying long?” He took a drink of his coffee then set it on the table.
“As long as I’m able. I’m headed to my parents’… just stopped for this.” I lifted the drink in a mini salute then took a sip of heaven in a cup. A gust of wind whipped by, blowing my hair away from my face. His gaze followed my every move, the intensity of it like a live wire, and I sighed. He didn’t understand why I was gone, and I wasn’t about to tell him, but maybe I could satisfy some of his curiosity, throw him off the trail. “Just ask whatever you’re thinking.”
