Free Novel Read

Behind My Words: A Ghost Writer's Romance Suspense




  Behind My Words

  J.L. Drake

  BEHIND MY WORDS

  Copyright 2019 © J.L. Drake

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to, or downloaded from file sharing sites or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of J.L. Drake.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To Jill and Steve Chamness, for all the help, guidance, and encouragement to bask in my dark side and to release this story.

  * * *

  Thank you for being my friends.

  Chapter One

  Molly Peters

  15 months ago

  The punch came from behind me. I had no warning. My arms flung out, and I shot across the room and into the wall. My ears rang as someone emptied my pockets.

  “Keys. Where are your keys?” he shouted while I lay on my stomach and covered my head, expecting another blow. “Come on! Where are they?” Something hard jabbed my side as he leaned down. “Where?”

  “Hook.” I pointed at the wall, careful not to raise my eyes to look at him. My body was paralyzed in shock as my brain screamed in fear.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Hands all over me, I was poked and prodded, and my purse was torn from under my stomach. I hadn’t even realized I was on top of it. My wedding ring was roughly shimmied off my finger.

  They are just things. They can be replaced.

  I began to shake, and I could feel sweat run from under my collar. My stomach was in a giant knot, and I felt sick. My heart raced so fast it felt as though it would come right out of my chest.

  How did he get in? We had one of the best security systems you could get. A movement caught my attention, and I spotted our little hound Bentley tucked under a chair, whimpering.

  Oh, boy, please stay put!

  Glass crashed around me, and I tightened my hand on my head. A photo of my daughter tumbled down and landed faceup next to me.

  Fear exploded through me as it dawned on me she was due to arrive any moment.

  “What’s that noise?” I felt his breath as he whispered inches from my ear.

  “It’s…”

  “Mom?” My son’s voice found me through my nightmare.

  “Shit!” I could hear how startled the intruder was.

  Bang echoed through my rib cage and froze my heart.

  “No! Please don’t hurt him!” I screamed from the basement of my lungs. Not my baby! I pushed to get up but was kicked in the side of the knee. Pain shot through me as I slammed to the floor again.

  “Stay down or I’ll shoot you too!”

  Suddenly, a hand came into view, and my daughter’s photo disappeared from the floor. The sound of a camera click caught my ear. His breath found my nose once again, and something tugged at a memory. Something familiar.

  Do I know you?

  “What the hell—” My husband’s voice boomed as he burst through the door. Something dropped heavily on the floor. I strained to see him, but I couldn’t. “Please take whatever you need,” he cried, and his gasp told me he must have caught sight of our son.

  “Don’t!” the intruder warned.

  I broke, lost all rational thinking, and did the one thing I knew I shouldn’t. I flipped over and stared the man directly in the face.

  Oh, my god!

  “Hey,” he said, panicked, and his hand jerked.

  Bang!

  The last thing I heard as my body drained of life was another bang and my husband’s scream.

  Chapter Two

  Spencer

  Present Day

  The cabby beeped his horn as he pulled up the driveway. I looked over my shoulder as I clicked off the light to my small townhouse.

  “Bye, house,” I whispered without a moment of regret. It was time for me to start over, and I had decided the best way for me to do that was to go back to the beginning, to the last place I was ever truly happy.

  “Ready, miss?”

  “Ready.” I thanked the cabby for offering a hand with my bags then slipped inside the car and drew a deep breath. It had been a month since Justin and I broke up, and it was time to go home.

  I was a different person now, not simply because I left one life for another, but because I was slightly jaded and more reclusive than I once was. They said you shouldn’t let the past shape you, and I didn’t. I just had long, jagged scars that lined my soul, reminding me of what had happened. Maybe, in time, they would fade, but for now, I’d keep my head down and continue moving forward.

  I caught my tired eyes and my frown lines in the reflection of the window. I missed my happy, carefree self and my smile that would warm my belly when I thought about my career or my family. Funny how everything could disappear in a snap, and you were left as a shell of a human looking in, not out.

  I drew another deep breath as I stepped out and opened the door to my new start.

  You got this, Spencer.

  I swung a heavy box inside and nearly tripped over the little hound that never moved an inch as I recovered my balance.

  He did manage a grunt as I slid him, still on the mat, out of my way with my foot.

  “Always a pleasure, Bentley.” I smiled as I set my box on the wooden table then dropped onto the couch and sank into its overstuffed pillows. I looked around and noted Bentley’s water dish was full, and a half-chewed ball rested beside it. My neighbors had been looking after him for the past year while I decided what I wanted to do with the plac
e. They had dropped Bentley off this morning. I swore the poor little guy suffered from PTSD.

  I studied the room and let my mind wander. My Aunt Lisa had spent weeks at a time here while she painted and needed some time to think, so in hindsight, I was glad I never sold the place.

  I never wanted to take over the family cabin after my parents died, but my breakup with Justin changed me, and I realized it was exactly where I needed to be. The city had too much white noise. I needed to be alone with my thoughts, and now that my brother had surfaced, I needed to find some source of inner strength to deal with the shit storm that was about to rock my world again.

  Boxes, bags, and cleaning supplies blocked my view of the lake. I had my work cut out for me, and I only had one week to make it mine.

  I pulled the crate over and opened the door to let Lloyd, my tabby cat, out to explore our new home. He jumped up on my lap then moved to my shoulder where he perched and hissed imperiously at Bentley.

  “Be nice,” I scolded.

  I knew the neighbors would all have heard I had taken up residence in the cabin. Everyone knew the story of what happened here. It had, after all, made headlines for months. It wasn’t lost on me that many a head turned as they walked by the driveway, and I knew they hoped I would come out to hear their sympathy. I just didn’t want it, so for the next few days, I planned to keep the blinds closed and my concentration on combing through my parents’ belongings. I needed time to make my peace with being here. I knew my parents always hated me living in the city, and there was a part of me that had never felt comfortable there. I now felt what they must have felt in that little cabin nestled alongside Whiskey Lake. A safe haven? After what happened to them there, it seemed odd to think that, but strangely, I did.

  I lived on microwaved meals for most of the first week and drank entirely too much coffee, and my stomach was starting to hate me by day eight. I was settled into a bit of a pattern by then, and I kicked my feet up and used my wireless mouse on my thigh to scan through my emails, then I began to comb through six new offers.

  “Let’s see, Lloyd.” I felt him circle the chair leg.

  Three science fictions, one western, and two romances, but none caught my attention enough to even open the outline. The last time I settled on a book, it nearly sucked the life out of me.

  “Nope, nope, and nope.”

  Lloyd jumped up and knocked over a frame that sat on the window ledge, and it tumbled down and landed inside an open box.

  “Such a brat.” I tugged the photo free and took a moment to admire it.

  #1 Wall Street Journal Author S Peters takes the romantic suspense world to a whole new level with her first book, “Tiny Dark Secrets.” With three awards and a movie deal, she will be the James Patterson of our generation!

  I flipped the newspaper clipping over and shoved it into the top drawer of the desk. In a twist, I moved the chair and unwrapped a family photo. My parents’ smiles beamed at me from the picture. It was when they first built the cabin. My brother was, of course, MIA at the time. I set it in the empty spot and went back to work.

  “Okay, enough is enough, Spencer, open the door and let me in!” I smirked at her shrill squeal. “It’s flippin’ freezing, and I swear a raccoon is eyeing me for a possible romp in the leaves.”

  I tossed my glasses on the desk and hurried across the living room and opened the door.

  “Well,” Jaci raised her eyebrows at my leggings and baggy Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, “you look just as I expected.”

  “Meaning?” I stepped aside as my best friend pushed past me, tugging her suitcase behind her. Bentley lifted his head as if to acknowledge her but flopped back down with a grunt. He wasn’t one for people interrupting his many naps.

  “Meaning you need a little me time.”

  “How lucky.” I dripped with sarcasm but broke out into a smile when she looked around and seemed impressed with the work I had done.

  “You did all this in three weeks?”

  “One, actually. I had a deadline.” I pointed to my Mac.

  “You didn’t ask for an extension?” She removed her jacket and draped it on the back of the chair.

  “Didn’t need one.”

  She kicked off her shoes, made herself comfortable on the couch, and waited for me to join her.

  “Hey, Bentley,” she called to him. He opened one eye and yawned rather dramatically. “Your dog doesn’t like me.”

  “He does, he’s just old and likes his naps.”

  “Meh, I get that.” She shrugged. “So?” She changed the topic.

  “I only know what you do,” I assured her.

  She observed me carefully. “You seem like you’re handling your brother situation pretty well. You don’t look like you have any real anger issues in your life.”

  “I do. I just channel it differently than you. Why do you think I write mystery suspense?”

  “Touché.” She made a face. “And romance, can’t forget about that bathhouse scene you wrote for book two. Damn, I still feel winded.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed dramatically. “Gotta love a good sex scene.”

  “I wish I could get my hands on the actual paperback.”

  I knew what she was feeling. I sometimes wished I could see my finished projects too.

  “Do you still…” she giggled, “you know, get in the mood when you write certain spots?”

  A pillow met her head, but I shrugged with a smirk. “Nothing like a glass of wine, silk, and some Justin Timberlake to help open the mind.”

  “I love your job.”

  “Mmm,” was all I offered. Nothing was better than the real thing for research.

  I sank further and rested my head to stare up at the cathedral ceiling. My parents had spent two years building this cabin. Everything was dialed in to what they wanted. I guessed you could say it was the perk of being architects. They took their time with it because, as social as they were, they loved their privacy.

  The cabin was built on an angle that allowed them privacy in every direction but the driveway, and even those windows were tinted so it was hard to see in from the outside, even at night. It drove their nosy neighbor nuts, which always entertained us. My father would say, “A little mystery is a lot more appealing than knowing everything about someone.”

  “Has your Uncle G been over to visit you yet?”

  I shook my head. “He will, but he knows I’m settling in and will want to give me some space. I’m sure he’ll be around. He invited me to a barbecue tomorrow night to welcome a new guy…” I trailed off and listened to a low-powered engine. The neighbors loved to fish.

  “What’s it like being here?”

  “Some days are harder than others, but being here helps.”

  A lot of people would think it was messed up to live in the same house where your parents were murdered, but I felt closer to them being here, and that was what I was looking for.

  Jaci looked around. “People dream of having a home like this, so I don’t blame you for moving in. I would have too.” She clapped her hands. “Your father built one sick hot tub.” She jumped to her feet and pressed her face to the glass. “Built right into the dock too. That’s crazy, Spencer.”

  “Yeah.” I fought the images of the last time I was in there. I had a bad day, and Mom brought me a glass of wine and told me to let the stars carry my stress for a bit. I convinced her to join me and was able to express my frustrations about Justin, how we didn’t seem to fit anymore. She always knew what to say. God, I missed her.

  Jaci was the only one who knew what I had been through with my family and was there for me every step of the way.

  She turned when I went silent and slapped her hands together to pull me out of my thoughts. “I’m making us dinner.”

  “I won’t protest.” I loved that she didn’t want to beat a dead horse by talking about my family. It was what it was.

  “Go shower, and we’ll head into town and get some wine, steak, and cheesecake.”

/>   I pretended to be annoyed, but to be honest, I knew I needed a break from all the awful food I had been eating.

  It was a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest market, ten if you hurried, twenty if you had a Jaci with you. We drew plenty of attention on our walk. I’d spent a lot of time here as a child, so the looks I got were not a surprise. I was the little town’s bachelorette, and they all probably felt it was now their mission to find me someone.

  “See,” Jaci wrapped her arm through mine, “when you shower, you look hot.” She nodded at a man who held the market door open for us.

  “Ladies.” He smiled.

  “Such a gentleman.” She winked and started to strike up a conversation while I headed straight to the wine section. I heard her explain that her name was pronounced like Jackie not how most said it as Jay-See. I laughed. The poor girl had been battling the spelling of her name her whole life.

  I quickly grabbed my favorites and started to load up the wagon we had brought. Jaci joined me with an armful of different cheeses and crackers.

  “He’s a lawyer from New York visiting family on the other side of town.”

  “Name?” I reached for a chocolate cheesecake, inspecting the thin crust.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Douggy or Dan or something.” She waved me off. “Not like I’m gonna sleep with him, but it is okay to know your loins are still working.” She smacked my ass to make her point. “And you, my friend, have a tight little body and hair most women would kill for.” She brushed her fingers through my long, wavy, brown hair. “Nina Dobrev.”