Page 3 of Love Finds Home

“Fuck!” she cries, dropping to the floor behind the couch. Like that can hide her.

“Jon?” Jeremy asks.

“I need you to tell me if that child Vanessa is carrying is mine or yours.” My voice is low and even, lethal even. Not a question, a demand.

“I uh, well,” he stutters.

“I’m your fucking brother.” I beat my hand holding the bag against my chest. “Tell me the truth, Jeremy. Don’t I deserve at least that?”

“Fuck you!” he spits. “You don’t deserve shit. You left us! You might be legally married to her, but you don’t love her like I do! You love your fucking job!”

“Whose child is in her fucking uterus?” I demand again.

“It’s mine!” he explodes. “She’s carrying my child. Because you couldn’t get the job done. But I could. And when she’s stayed with you long enough to get your benefits, she’s going to leave your fucking ass and finally be fully mine.”

“Huh. And exactly how long have you had the delusion that she should be yours?” I ask, over Vanessa trying to get him to shut up.

“I’ve been fucking your wife for ten years. And you never knew.”

“That’s all I needed. Thanks for your assistance.” I turn to Vanessa, who has tears running down her face. They used to make me feel something. Right now? I feel nothing. “As for you. I suggest you pack your shit. If you want my brother, you can have him. He’s no family of mine.”

I leave, not giving her the chance to respond to me. My bike is in the garage, covered, and she starts right up when I turn the key. I pull out of the driveway of my now-broken marital home. Fitting since broken is exactly how I feel.

The thoughts running through my mind are making me spiral. Who else knows if they’ve been fucking around for ten years? Do my parents? Our friends? Do any of my men? Jeremy is a lot of things, but discreet isn’t one of them. Have I been made to be the fool behind my back? Is there anyone I can trust?

I pull over to the side of the road, the panic attack hitting me. I forward the video evidence to Sarge, my old Sargent, with a message.

Jon: Keep this safe. Have a feeling I’ll need it to avoid losing everything. Everything’s FUBAR.

I put the phone back in my pocket and rev the bike.

I look up and down the empty road before pulling out and moving farther away from what used to be my life. I’m headingback to base. If I get there quick enough, I can hop on the plane and be back with my men in another twenty-four hours.

I’m driving through a green light when it happens. The impact throws me from the bike, and the last thing I remember is the sound of metal crunching and bones breaking.

Chapter 1

Elle “Pixie” Workman

Who would have thoughtthat I would ever crave the quiet not living in the city provides? Me, Miss Party All Night, Sleep All Day, has found peace in the muted sounds of the sunrise. With coffee, not an energy drink. And after a full night’s sleep, not still wearing my club clothes and hung over. After a week, I’m itching to get back to Boulder Canyon, the small town my brother lives in. I went to stay with him a couple of months ago and found something I didn’t have in the city we grew up in.

My mind stops being negative in the quiet. I revel in the moments I’m alone. My creativity has returned and I want to spend hours with my canvas and paints.

It’s only been a week, and I rushed through everything I needed to do in order to get back to the small apartment in what feels like the middle of nowhere. I loaded my Jeep with more of my stuff and I’ve informed my brother that I’m staying for longerthan I initially thought. And after the last week, I’m not sure I’ll ever come back to Diamond Cove and live again.

When my phone cuts off the music, I answer with a smile on my face.

“Chels! What’s going on?”

Chelsea is one of my best friends. She started working for my brother, Nolan, about three years ago, and we’ve become close. She’s this beautiful, natural redhead, with height and curves I’d kill for, and she has the sweetest little boy, Dylan, and I love them both. They might be the only things I miss other than my studio. I need to figure out a way to set one up in Boulder Canyon ASAP.

“Have you fled the city already?” she asks, a smile in her voice. She is perpetually happy, something my brother hates.

“On my way out now. I don’t know what it is, but the Cove is just too loud now. And the people. Were there always so many damn people?”

She laughs, and I can feel her rolling her eyes. “Elle, the sounds and population haven’t changed in the two months you’ve been in hiding.”

“I know this, but why do I all the sudden hate it? Oh, God, am I getting old?”

---