Covert
by
G K Moore
Genre:
New Adult Romantic Suspense
Release
Date: December 2nd, 2014
Hosted
by: Book Enthusiast Promotions (http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com)
Pre-order Covert at Amazon for $2.99 will be $3.99 at release
Alessandro is the unwilling heir of a
Chicago crime family. Intent on leaving the life set out for him, he decides to
run as fast and as far away as possible. His plans crumble when one girl crash
lands in his life. He should hate the daughter of his father’s mistress, but
it’s near impossible when he finds that they are alike in more ways than one.
Olivia grew up watching men walk in and
out of her mother’s life. When one man finally decides to stay, she learns that
crime lords don’t leave until someone’s dead. Olivia’s salvation comes from the
person she least expects: his son.
Six years later, Olivia and Alessandro
are reunited when her life is threatened. If time has proven one thing, it’s that
repeating their parents’ mistakes seems inevitable.
In a world where friendship is a luxury
and love a death sentence, two unlikely lovers find each other only to be
separated by their cruel reality.
Covert is for readers 17+
CHAPTER ONE
OLIVIA
I stared at
the lifeless body on the floor, thinking about the blood seeping into the wood
and staining it. It would be impossible to clean. The wooden floorboards would
have to be replaced.
The gun I
had just fired, fell from my hand. The clattering noise it made as it hit the
ground startled me out of my skin. The sight of the gun, lying in a puddle of
blood, and the metallic scent invading my senses made me tremble. Maybe I was
going into shock. My mind raced, trying to figure out what I should do next,
but I couldn’t think of anything.
Other than
calling him.
After six
years, I had truly believed I was free from my past. I had been sure he would
never be a part of my life again. After all, he had made that choice. But with
a bleeding body on my floor, it seemed that facing him would be inevitable.
I took a
slow step back, away from the blood pooling near my feet, only to stumble over
my purse that still lay where I had left it when I entered my apartment. Keys,
my chipped powder compact, three nickels and a quarter, an uncapped pen I’d
borrowed from the bank, and my phone skidded out across the floor. Entranced, I
watched as my pink lipstick tube rolled over to the door. The sudden urge to
cry, and scream, welled up in my throat. I sank to my knees and reached for my
phone—it had fallen near the couch. I cringed at the sight of the dark blotches
on the couch’s white fabric. In the daylight, they would be splashes of deep,
sticky red. I swallowed the lump in my throat, picked up my phone, and scrolled
down the contact list. My thumb hovered over the word ‘HIM’.
I hesitated.
Swallowed
again.
Then, I
pressed the dial button. It rang once.
“What’s
wrong?” he answered on the first ring.
I whimpered
at the sound of his smoothly calm voice—a voice that had haunted me for years.
I briefly listened to his breathing, wondering how he knew that I needed him. I
shook my head and bit back a dejected laugh. Of course he knew. I wouldn’t be
calling unless it was a matter of life or death.
“Someone was
here,” I whispered, as if not to startle the corpse. My voice sounded raspy,
and thick with unshed tears. For the most part, up until this point, I had
actually impressed myself by not freaking out. Now my well-crafted façade was
cracking. I could hear his breathing quicken slightly.
“Are you all
right?”
I soaked in
the alarm in his voice, letting it wrap me up like a balm to a sting. I closed
my eyes, and willed my voice to sound firm. “You need to send a crew,” I said.
“Fuck…
cleaners?” he asked letting out a heavy breath.
I nodded.
After a moment, I realized I hadn’t actually answered. “Yes, I’m in Chicago… in
my apartment on the corner of—”
“I know
where you live. Sit tight. Tiny will be there in no time—”
I hung up,
not strong enough to listen to his voice any longer. Sitting on the floor, I
dropped the phone in another loud clatter, and brought my knees to my chest. I
wasn’t startled or even fully conscious of the continuous vibrating of my
phone. It just danced in the dark, dangerously close to the pool of blood. I
watched it, lost in thought of how naïve I’d been. I should’ve known the past
would catch up to me—he would always catch up with me.
Closing my
eyes, I let a sliver of happiness creep up inside.
I would see
Tiny again.
The
happiness lasted just until I remembered why I would see him again and was
replaced by a sharp pain in my chest. I looked over at the dead body once more
and shivered, the sickeningly sweet metallic scent of blood churned my stomach.
It was unbearable. I started dry heaving uncontrollably and leaned on my hands
for support. I hadn’t eaten all day so there was nothing my body could purge
itself of, save for the acid burning the back of my throat.
When the dry
heaving stopped, I sat back and wrapped my arms around my legs. Leaning my
forehead on my arms, I made myself breathe through my mouth. I didn’t want to
smell it anymore. And, I was pretty good at convincing myself if I couldn’t see
or smell it, it didn’t exist. So, I sat there, rocking myself in the dark,
repeating four words like a mantra.
He can fix
this.
It might
have been a few minutes, or hours, before I heard the front door creak open.
Although I was in plain sight, I couldn’t make myself move from my position. The
door opened, but I didn’t raise my head. I heard several pairs of footsteps
treading the floor almost imperceptibly as they invaded my home.
“Clear,”
several voices said at the same time.
“Stand
guard. We’re coming down in a few,” Tiny’s deep voice called out from the door.
The men moved around, while Tiny approached me. He took a couple of steps and
came to an abrupt stop.
“You left
the door unlocked.” His tone was harsh, accusatory.
Truthfully,
I hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone else might come to finish
the job.
I could
sense Tiny’s stare on me. After a moment, he spoke.
“Fuck,” he
said.
I looked up
to him now, but I knew he was looking at the man beside me. I followed his gaze
and then averted my eyes. I sniffled, not realizing until then that I had been
crying. Straining, I fixed my eyes on Tiny’s perfectly polished patent leather
shoes that shone even in the dark.
“Are you
okay?” he asked, kneeling down in front of me. His words had an almost
affectionate undertone, something rare for him.
I couldn’t
help the giggle that escaped. Was I okay? Hardly. No. I raised my eyes to his.
I unlocked my arms, and wiped my tear-stained face with my hands.
He frowned.
“I’m fine,”
I said before nodding towards the body. “But that’s going to leave a stain.”
Tiny
chuckled, and shook his head lightly.
I couldn’t
help the slight upward curling of my lips, despite the horror I just went
through. I had lived by so many rules, for so many years that even now, as an
adult, I couldn’t help the impulse to follow them. Everything needed to be
clean and in perfect order. I shouldn’t be too loud. Speak too much. Attract
any attention.
And, I
certainly shouldn’t have a dead body on my floor.
“Come on,
Lou. Let’s get you out of here,” he said as he took my hand and pulled me to my
feet.
I frowned.
No one had called me Lou in years, these days I went by Livi.
I didn’t
fight him; I needed to get out of there. “My purse,” I said, looking down at
the black leather bag whose contents were still spilled all over the floor. It
was truly absurd to worry about something so trivial after all that had just
happened, but old habits died hard. Really hard. And that was my favorite
lipstick.
“I’ll take
care of it,” Tiny said. He placed his hand between my shoulder blades and
pushed me gently towards the door.
I suddenly
panicked.
“No,” I
said, shaking my head.
“We need to
go, now.” Tiny pushed again, urging me to move, but my feet remained glued in
place.
“I-I can’t
leave like this, I have to pick up my things,” I said turning around. My eyes
watered at the sight of the mess in front of us.
“Don’t worry
about it,” Tiny said, now grabbing my arm. I shook my head again and tried to
pull out of his grasp, but he didn’t let go.
“I need to
clean up, I’ll probably have to bleach the—”
“Lou!” Tiny
said while grasping my shoulders and forcefully turning me to look at him.
“Snap out of it.”
That’s when
I freaked out.
My whole
body started trembling uncontrollably and my breathing hitched. I chewed the
inside of my cheek to try to stop myself from crying, but when I bit too hard
and tasted the metallic tang of blood, my tears spilled over. A sob escaped me.
I covered my mouth with me hands, startled by my reaction.
“Damn it,”
Tiny said, shaking me slightly. “You need to calm down.”
I closed my
eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, ignoring the taste in my mouth. When I felt
in control again, I opened my eyes.
“Are you
good?” Tiny asked. I nodded. He looked at me doubtfully, so I wiped my face and
breathed in deeply again before answering.
“I’m good,”
I said.
“Okay, then
let’s get you the fuck out of here.”
This time
when he guided me, I followed his lead. A man stood guard at the door, but I
hardly looked at him. I just saw the bloody mess everywhere. Thankfully, Tiny
helped me down the two flights of stairs otherwise I would have crumbled. He
stepped outside first, his body tense, prepared to attack any other assassin.
Then, he turned back to me and waved me forward.
Slowly, I
stepped into the cold night.
Another man
in a black suit stood just outside the entrance. There were four black SUVs
with tinted windows parked in front of us with men standing guard in front of
them. They had come like an army intent on making a statement—Don’t fuck with
us.
The sight of
them brought back my most painful memories. I hesitated, but Tiny pushed me
forward. He walked with purpose, hovering over me.
With Tiny,
there was never time for uncertainty. He opened the door and carefully, but
firmly, helped me inside the car. The driver stood beside his own door,
intently scanning the surroundings, and looked up at Tiny’s approach.
“I gotta go
clean up. Liam will follow you,” Tiny said to the driver. Turning towards me,
he added, “Tate will take care of you.”
“Where is he
taking me?” I asked before he could shut the door. Noticing the panic in my own
voice, my eyes glazed over in shame; I didn’t want him to see how scared I was
of his answer.
“Home.”
The way he
said it left no room for arguing. Still, I opened my mouth.
“But—”
“This is not
up for discussion,” Tiny said.
I nodded,
resigned, as he closed the door behind me.
Tate started
the car. I didn’t know him, and his grave face was not reassuring. He glanced a
final time at the rearview mirror, and drove off. I turned around and noticed
that one of the other cars was following us. That must have been Liam—whoever
that was. I still couldn’t believe Tiny had left me alone with a stranger. His
size alone made me nervous, and the fact that he hadn’t spoken to me yet was
unnerving. Tate was almost too big for the interior of the car, even though he
was still not as large a man as Tiny. The driver’s seat was shoved all the way
back, squeezing my legs awkwardly into a twisted, painful position. When I
decided to slide over to the other side, Tate broke the silence.
“Keep your
head down,” was all he said.
My head
snapped up to look at him through the rearview mirror. He didn’t meet my gaze.
“I will, but
I need to move because you’re crushing me,” I said through clenched teeth. Tate
didn’t react.
I started
pulling at the buckle of the seat belt, trying to release it, but my hands
trembled too much. I finally let go, defeated by the device.
When I
looked back up, I noticed Tate smirking. He was a real charmer. I sighed and
decided to stay put and suffer through the numbness in my legs. We finally
merged onto the almost deserted I-94 highway. I didn’t want to think about what
would happen next, and tried to distract myself from those thoughts by
examining Tate. He had broad shoulders and, beneath his suit, I knew he would
be all hard muscle. I took in his blond hair and brooding eyes, color unknown
in the dark, and startled when I noticed his gaze fixed on mine.
I was
embarrassed to have been caught staring at him, and offered a small smile as
apology. His eyes narrowed slightly. My heart sped up, though I couldn’t
identify the emotion. My brain seemed to freeze in that moment, unable to
process any more information.
I closed my
eyes and breathed in and out several times, just like my therapist had told me
to do when I felt a panic attack coming. Slowly, I calmed myself enough to open
them again.
Tate was no
longer looking at me.
Relieved, I
stared out the window as we sped through the city. My thoughts travelled to the
past.
This wasn’t
the first time I had killed someone.
Six years
ago, I had watched a man bleed out on a cold floor while I cried helplessly.
The memory of that night was my own private nightmare; a nightmare I thought
would only ever repeat itself in my dreams.
I was wrong.
It was six
years ago all over again.
G.K. Moore loves cake, romances with
alpha males and happily ever afters. When she’s not writing, she’s reading,
stalking friends on Facebook, watching bad reality TV, traveling, torturing her
hubby with ideas for new stories or doing all of the above at the same time.
Her debut novel, a romantic suspense, is coming out December 2nd and the
backdrop is one of her all time favorite cities, Chicago.
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