Guilty: Confessions Series: Book 1

by Monroe, Lilian

  Guilty

  Confessions Series: Book 1

  Lilian Monroe

  Contents

  1. Nicole

  2. Martin

  3. Nicole

  4. Martin

  5. Nicole

  6. Martin

  7. Nicole

  8. Martin

  9. Nicole

  10. Martin

  11. Nicole

  12. Martin

  13. Nicole

  14. Martin

  15. Nicole

  16. Martin

  17. Nicole

  18. Martin

  19. Nicole

  20. Martin

  21. Nicole

  22. Martin

  23. Nicole

  24. Martin

  25. Nicole

  26. Martin

  27. Nicole

  28. Martin

  29. Nicole

  30. Martin

  31. Nicole

  32. Martin

  33. Nicole

  34. Martin

  35. Nicole

  36. Martin

  37. Nicole

  38. Martin

  39. Nicole

  Epilogue - Martin

  Acknowledgments

  Lilian Monroe

  Engaged to Mr. Right

  1. Max

  2. Naomi

  3. Max

  4. Naomi

  Afterword

  Also by Lilian Monroe

  Copyright © 2019 Lilian Monroe All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews.

  1

  Nicole

  I hang up the phone and breathe a sigh of relief. Clutching my phone to my chest, I turn to my sister and nod.

  “I got the job.”

  “Woohoo!” Jenna jumps up and down. The soapy spatula she was washing drips over the kitchen floor, but she ignores it. “Congratulations! I was sure you’d get it.”

  “I wasn’t.” I push the hair off my forehead and blow the air out of my lungs. I slump down at the kitchen table. “Thank God. I’ll have enough to pay rent for February.”

  Jenna slides her arm across my shoulders and hugs me. I wince as pain shoots through my right side, but I try to hide it.

  “I’m happy for you, Nicole.” Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “That’ll take some pressure off.”

  “Yeah, now I can replace financial stress with work stress.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic,” she laughs. “Come on. Things are looking up!”

  I nod and try to smile. “Yeah, they are.” At least I won’t have to worry about the debt collectors coming to knock down my door. I’ll be able to start making payments on these medical bills—maybe even more than the minimum payment. Paralegal salaries aren’t amazing, but they’re better than the zero I’ve been making so far.

  “Did she tell you what the salary will be?” Jenna asks, reading my mind. She returns the spatula to the sink and keeps washing.

  I nod. “Fifty-two grand a year to start, plus benefits.”

  Jenna smiles. “I knew this would work out. I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m going to make some tea. You want some?”

  “Sure.” I force a smile. She must be further ahead of me in this tunnel, because I still don’t see any light. I shift in my seat, taking a deep breath as pain shoots through my side. I stand up and take a few steps to try to loosen it up.

  “Still sore?” Jenna frowns at me as she fills the kettle.

  “Yeah. I ran out of pain medication last week. Once I get paid at this job, I’ll get some more, but these next few weeks will be a little rough.”

  “I’ll cover the next batch of medication, Nic. I hate seeing you like this.”

  I shake my head. “You were just telling me about all the expenses with the kids. I’m not going to be your third child,” I grin. “I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.”

  Jenna nods as I walk back and forth to try to ease the aches pulsing through the side of my body. Ever since the accident last year, my whole body has rebelled against me. My sister watches me and shakes her head.

  “If I ever find the coward that did this to you, I will kill him myself,” she says. “He didn’t even stop to see if you guys were okay! Who knows what would have happened if the ambulance had gotten there sooner? Jack might have lived! And don’t get me started on the insurance company.”

  A plate clatters in the sink as Jenna shakes her head.

  Grief carves out another piece of my heart as I take a deep breath. Jenna’s still angry—maybe I would be, too, if this had happened to her. But it happened to me, and mostly I just feel exhausted.

  When the car hit us, Jack died instantly. That’s what the doctors told us, anyway. My sister doesn’t believe them. We were told that my husband and I sat on the side of the road for fifteen to thirty minutes before we were found by another driver. It took another ten minutes for the ambulance to arrive. My injuries were severe, but I was able to keep my life. My back was broken and I had a severe concussion, but I wasn’t paralyzed.

  I was lucky, the doctors said.

  Lucky.

  For many dark months after the accident, when I was learning how to walk again, I wondered if Jack got the better bargain. Why would I want to live in a world where he doesn’t exist? He was the love of my life, and now he’s gone.

  Things would be easier if Jack’s life insurance policy had paid out by now, but the company keeps stalling. It’s been a year, and they still haven’t accepted my claim. They keep asking me for Jack’s medical records over and over. They won’t give me a straight answer, and fear gnaws at my stomach. If they try to reject my claim, the future is going to be bleak.

  Tears smart in my eyes as I sit down again. Jenna sighs.

  “Oh, Nicole, I’m sorry. I got carried away. I just get so mad when I start thinking about it.”

  “I know.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Look, you’ll start working and things will get better. The hospital will stop hassling you when you start making payments. You’ll get health insurance with the job. You might even meet a sexy hot-shot lawyer!”

  I snort, shaking my head. “Not interested. I never liked the hot-shot lawyers at my last firm. Too full of themselves.”

  Plus, looking at anyone in a romantic way would feel like I was cheating on Jack.

  “Well, maybe there will be another paralegal that you can befriend. You’ll get out and start meeting people again! Even if it’s just work, it’ll be good for you.”

  “Yeah,” I reply, mostly so that she’ll stop talking about it. Jenna puts a cup of tea in front of me and sighs. I love my sister, but her eternal optimism is exhausting. I’m in a deep, dark hole that she will never understand.

  The front door flies open and the pitter-patter of little feet accompanies the giggles of small children. My niece and nephew, Gabby and Taylor, come tumbling into the kitchen like two bowling balls. Jenna scoops them up and covers them with kisses as they laugh, squirming in her arms. Taylor, the younger one, presents her with a drawing he made in school.

  My brother-in-law appears in the doorway. He kisses Jenna and asks about her day. Suddenly, I feel like an intruder in their happy life. When Christian lovingly wraps his arms around Jenna, it feels like I’m suffocating. Every time I look at my sister’s happiness, it feels like I’m staring directly at the midday sun. It’s blinding.

  That used to be me. I used to be the one with a happy marriage, a happy life, and a loving husband. We’d been talking about kids, too.

  Now all I�
��ve got is crushing loneliness and overwhelming medical bills.

  And a new job, I guess.

  I push myself off my chair, leaving my tea untouched. “I’m going to head to the pool.” I smooth my hands on my jeans, clearing my throat. “Good to see you guys.”

  “You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Jenna asks, surprise etched on her face.

  I smile and shake my head. If only she knew how painful that would be for me.

  “Gotta do my workout. The physio says I’ve been making great progress.”

  “Okay.” She stares at me with those big, brown, motherly eyes of hers, and all I want to do is run away. She hugs me again, more gently this time. “Taylor! Gabby! Say goodbye to Auntie Nicole.”

  My niece and nephew leave big, sloppy kisses on my cheeks. Christian waves at me, and I finally escape out the front door. I get to my car and let out a sigh.

  Guilt creeps into my heart when I watch them through the window. Jenna has been so supportive, even though her life is hectic. She’s always checking up on me and making sure I have everything I need. She’s loaned me so much money that it makes my head spin.

  And yet, being at her house makes me feel like I’m drowning in my own grief. It makes me feel selfish and ungrateful.

  It makes me sad.

  I sigh and turn the key in the ignition. I wasn’t lying to her, at least. I am going to go to the pool, and the physio has been impressed with my progress. So, at least my guilt won’t be compounded with a lie. As soon as I turn the corner and put her house behind me, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  2

  Martin

  I look up when there’s a knock on the door. Kelly, my assistant, pokes her head in.

  “These came for you,” she says, lifting a bouquet of flowers. My heart squeezes, and I nod.

  “Just put them on the table there,” I say, gesturing to the coffee table. My office has a plush seating area next to the bookshelves, and I typically like to keep it clear of clutter. Kelly nods quietly and arranges the flowers before slipping out. I say nothing, turning instead to the stack of papers in front of me.

  We have a tough case load at the firm right now, and I’m starting to feel snowed under. I glance at the bouquet of flowers and sigh. I push myself back from my large oak desk and stand up. My legs feel stiff, and I stretch my back out. I’ll need to go for a swim or a run tonight—something to loosen up.

  First, though, I walk over to the large bouquet of white lilies and pluck the card from the blooms. The scent from the flowers is nauseating. As soon as I smell a lily, my mind zips back to that day one year ago, when my whole world changed.

  My condolences, Marty.

  —Mom

  I sigh, tossing the card aside. I know she’s trying to keep the memory of Brianne alive, but all I want to do is forget. Especially today.

  The year has been a blur. I went back to work right away and buried myself in case after case. It helps me forget about the lonely house and lonely life that I’ve been left with. It’s not all bad, though. Working so hard means I made partner at one of the biggest law firms in Colorado.

  Not bad for a thirty-two-year-old man. When I graduated from law school, I didn’t think it would happen so fast.

  I didn’t think I’d be a thirty-two-year-old widower either, but hey. Things change.

  I look at the lilies for a few more moments and feel the armor around my heart harden a little bit more.

  I sit down at my desk again and try to focus on the stack of papers in front of me. My eyes keep drifting to the bouquet of flowers, though, and soon I’m grabbing my jacket and heading for the door. I thought I’d made it through today unscathed, and then my mother had to go and be thoughtful. How rude of her.

  I grab the vase on the way out. I consider tossing the whole thing in the garbage, but that feels disrespectful. So instead, I put it on the firm’s front desk. Brianne would have liked that. She always brightened up a room, and she was always the first person people noticed.

  I take a deep breath and turn away from the flowers, heading for the elevator.

  I need to get out of here. I need to wash the smell of the lilies off my body and I need to exhaust myself physically so that I can get a couple hours of sleep tonight.

  That’s what happens when you lose your wife and unborn child. It tends to change a person.

  In the aftermath I’ve been so numb inside that I worked myself to the bone. I made partner at the firm, so it’s all worth it, right?

  I mash the elevator buttons and sigh. When the doors close and the nauseating stench of lilies dissipates, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  When I pull into the pool parking lot, my shoulders relax. After an hour or so here, my body will be tired enough to shut off my brain. This is my safe place. It’s the place where Brianne’s memory doesn’t invade my thoughts without warning.

  It’s busy tonight—there must be some group lessons going on. I turn down one aisle of the parking lot just as another car comes towards me. It’s an old beat-up Honda Civic, and I can hear from all the way over here that the engine isn’t in good shape.

  I can tell the Civic is vying for the one free parking space between us.

  I don’t know if it’s work stress, or the flowers, or just the fact that today is today, but anger flares in my chest. That should be my parking space. Not some shitty rust bucket in need of an oil change.

  I press on the accelerator, but I’m too late. The car slides into the spot and my rage burns hotter. I roll past slowly, waiting for the parking-space-stealer to show himself.

  Someone gets out of the car and I can’t help myself. I pull my handbrake and hop out.

  “That was my parking space,” I call out as I take a step towards the Honda.

  The person has their head in the back seat, rummaging around for something. I take a couple steps towards the car, and finally a head pops up above the Honda’s rusty old roof.

  I almost yelp in surprise. The woman looks exactly like Brianne.

  Well, not exactly. She’s taller, and her hair is dark brown whereas Brianne’s was almost blonde. This woman’s lips are fuller.

  But it’s her eyes.

  She arches her eyebrow and looks at me from the other side of her car. Slamming the back door closed, she slings her bag over her shoulder and starts walking towards the back of the car. She looks on the ground and then pokes her head towards the front of her car.

  Finally, she turns back to me. I fold my arms across my chest, and her eyes flick to my biceps. I flex—I can’t help it.

  “Don’t see your name on it.”

  Her voice is like sarcasm dripping in honey. I imagine slamming her against the back of the car and running my hands up between those long legs of hers. I’d teach her a lesson about talking back.

  “You know full-well that I was heading for it.”

  “I didn’t even see you until you drove by,” she scoffs. She folds her arms over her chest, mimicking my movement. “You think being on the other end of the parking lot entitles you to all the spaces?”

  She glances at my car, shaking her head. “Typical BMW driver.”

  Blood rushes between my legs. My cock is rock hard as I stare at her perfect lips. Her steely grey eyes stare at me, defiant. I’m almost impressed. No one talks to me like this—ever.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I arch my eyebrow, taking a step towards her.

  She waves her hand at my car, shaking her head. “You’re all entitled pricks.”

  Shock silences me. Who is this chick?

  She stares at me, challenging me to answer. Her long, slender fingers drum on her bicep as she waits for me to say something. I can’t though. I’m too busy wondering what those fingers would look like wrapped around my cock.

  “As much as I’m enjoying this little staring contest,” she says, dropping her arms to her sides, “I’ve got some swimming to do. Or do you own the whole pool, too?”

  “What if I did?” Great comeback
.

  She just rolls her eyes and walks towards the building. My eyes follow her, dropping down to the movement of her ass as she walks away.

  “Enjoying the view?” She calls out without turning around.

  Anger burns a hole in my chest. Who the fuck does she think she is? I jump back into my car and rage as I find another parking space.

  All I wanted to do was come to the pool and swim some laps to cool down. I didn’t ask for this! First, she steals my parking space and then she gives me that fucking attitude.

  I turn off the car and tighten my hands on the steering wheel. My knuckles turn white as I try to understand what’s going on inside me.

  Maybe it’s just anger and adrenaline. This is just a rage boner. It’s not the way her eyes glided over my body, or the way she walked away from me. It’s not the way her voice zipped through my body like a bolt of lightning.

  I wish I could bury my cock inside her and fuck the sarcasm right out of her voice. My chest heaves, and I close my eyes.

  I’m just mad. I’m stressed about work. I’m stressed about today.

  I look down at my crotch and take a deep breath. I squeeze my eyes shut, and all I can see is that sassy, irreverent, foul-mouthed beauty.

  When my body has cooled down enough to walk into the building, I grab my bag and stomp towards the entrance… towards her.