Love & Deception (The Love & Ruin Series Book 2) Read online

  Love & Deception

  J.A. OWENBY

  Copyright © 2018 by J.A. Owenby

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting J.A. Owenby. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

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

  Edited by: Deb Markanton

  Cover Art by: Book Cover Luv

  First Edition

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7321510-6-2

  ISBN-10: 1-7321510-6-7

  Gain access to previews of J.A. Owenby’s novels before they’re released and to take part in exclusive giveaways. www.jaowenby.com

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  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

  A Note from the Author

  Acknowledgments

  It takes a village, and I have an amazing one. A very special thank you to Crystal, Deb, Jerica, Aubrey, Michelle, Mia, and Posey.

  The Truth Series

  The Truth She Knew

  Echoes Beneath

  Whispers of Her

  Stand Alone Novels

  Where I’ll Find You

  Fading into Her, a novella

  A note from the author:

  Dear Readers,

  If you have experienced sexual assault or physical abuse, there is free confidential help. Please visit:

  Website: https://www.rainn.org/

  Phone: 800-656-4673

  This book may contain sensitive material for some readers. Gemma and Hendrix’s story is considered a dark romance with language, sex, and violence.

  Chapter 1

  Reality was like a black-and-white TV with bad reception—flickering in and out. Clear one moment and fuzzy the next.

  The cold November night air should have sent my teeth chattering into overdrive, but I felt nothing as I stared, speechless, at Andrea Wallace. She'd stopped me outside my dorm building and began blabbing something so inconceivable my conscious mind refused to register the information.

  "Gemma, did you hear what I said?" Andrea spoke softly while taking a cautious step closer.

  I narrowed my eyes at this girl, whom I'd met only once before, and tried to wrap my head around the shocking news she'd just hit me with.

  This was not the way my night was supposed to play out. Right now, Mac and I should be moving our stuff out of the dorm and into Hendrix's house.

  I was still moving in with Hendrix. But not tonight.

  Tonight, fate had once again thrown me a massive curveball.

  Tonight, my mother had died in a car accident, and I was on my way to the airport and back to Louisiana.

  "I heard you, Andrea," I said, void of emotion.

  Apparently she didn't believe me because she repeated her news with more force.

  "I'm pressing charges against Hendrix Harrington for raping me."

  My conscious mind may have been struggling to process her statement, but my subconscious understood her just fine.

  I dropped my overstuffed duffel and punched my fist into her face, sending her reeling backward. She yelped, her eyes popping open wide with shock as she landed ass first on the sidewalk. My hand smarted from the contact, but other than that...I felt no remorse for what I’d done. Bending down, my stare never left her while I picked up my bag again.

  “And, as I said, my mother just died, and I have a plane to catch,” I informed her.

  Logically, I knew the grief and anger were waiting to erupt, stirring just beneath the surface. The problem was I had no idea when it would happen. Right now, as far as I was concerned, numbness could continue to claim me.

  Andrea covered her jaw and whimpered. Sadness flickered in her stunned expression. I spun on my heel and walked away.

  “I’m going to let that go, Gemma. I’d probably have done the same if my mom had just died. But a word of advice...if I were you, I wouldn't come back. For your own safety, stay away from Spokane," she called after me.

  I refused to turn around or acknowledge her warning. Everything inside me had officially checked out. I calmly walked toward the Uber waiting at the curb. The driver would most likely charge me for the additional time it had taken me to hit someone for the first time in my life.

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  The middle-aged woman behind the wheel merely nodded and drove away from campus.

  Leaning my head back against the passenger seat, I stared blankly out the window as Spokane lit up the evening sky with all her twinkling lights. As we drove over the Monroe Street Bridge, I focused my attention on the Spokane River snaking its way through the heart of the city, twisting and turning.

  My thoughts floated to Hendrix and memories of eating breakfast on his back patio while the river rushed past us, the clean, fresh smell of the water tickling my nose.

  Dammit, Hendrix should be with me. He should be next to me in the car, holding my hand.

  Maybe it was a good thing he was at rehearsal tonight and not answering his phone. Because after the bomb Andrea dropped on me, I wasn't sure what to think of him right now.

  Was Andrea telling the truth? What could she possibly have to gain by lying about something as serious as rape? My stomach lurched. How well did I really know Hendrix? I'd been fooled before.

  Regardless, Andrea had planted a seed that would linger in the back of my mind like a pesky fly, constantly buzzing in the background.

  All I knew for certain was that Mom was dead, and I was on my way back to Louisiana.

  The only comfort in this mess was Ada Lynn.

  My feelings roared to life as the Uber driver slowed to take the airport exit. Anger and fear ripped through me. I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted my hands in an attempt to contain it all in front of this total stranger. I couldn't let it loose yet. Not until I reached the safety of my house in Louisiana. I could fall apart then.

  “What airline?” The driver's abrupt question shook me out of my thoughts. She hadn't uttered a word the entire twenty-five-minute drive, for which I was thankful. I wasn't in any mood for small talk.

  “Alaska,” I replied after glancing at my email from Ada Lynn.

  "Got it," she said, expertly maneuvering across lanes in the direction indicated for Departures, then pulled up to the curb adjacent to an Alaska Airlines sign. I stepped out of the car, grabbed my bag and thanked her. Then I turned and stared at the automatic doors, watching them whoosh open and closed, my body frozen in place. As soon as I walked through them, my life would never be the same. I was going home, but instead of feeling excited to see Dad and Ada Lynn, I only felt dread. Because a huge part of me was now gone.

  People hurried past me, their luggage rolling behind them, and conversations taking place on their phones. I watched dumbly as they passed by. All of this ordinary life was taking place while my world fell apart right in front of them. No one even knew the difference. I wondered how many times I’d walked by others and had no idea if they were okay or if they were living hell on earth like I was.

  “Gemma!”

  My head snapped in the direction of the familiar, deep voice. Hendrix. Shit, with the Andrea drama I’d forgotten I’d texted him to meet me at the airport.

  “I got your message,” he said, breathlessly catching up to me. “What’s going on? Why are you leaving?” His focus bounced between my duffel and back to me. Worry and confusion clouded his handsome features. Briefly, my heart came to life and then the light flickered out again.

  “Ada Lynn called. Mom was killed in a car accident tonight,” I said, my own voice sounding foreign to me.

  “What?” Hendrix gasped and stepped forward, preparing to hug me.

  I walked backward and dodged him.

  “Don’t touch me.” My tone was hushed while people passed us. This wasn’t anyone’s business. I’d been taught to keep the dirty laundry behind closed doors, and now wasn’t the time to break that rule.

  “What? Gemma, I don’t understand. Let me come with you. Please...don’t shut me out.”

  My breath hitched, and my pulse raced in panicked bursts. I wanted him with me
, but if there were any truth to Andrea’s words... I couldn’t ignore the situation.

  “You can’t.”

  His eyebrow rose in question. He ran his hand across his jawline and waited for me to say more.

  “You need to stay away from me,” I stammered.

  “What? Gemma, what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?” He reached toward me, and I stepped back again. I placed my duffel bag between us as a barrier.

  “Andrea Wallace said she was going to press charges against you for rape.”

  I watched as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in slow motion.

  “You don’t believe her, do you?” His voice cracked, thick with shock and anger.

  “Look at me and tell me you’ve never been with her,” I dared, my chin jutting up with defiance.

  He swallowed visibly. “I—I,” he stammered. “It’s not like that.” His hand cupped the back of his neck, and he paused.

  An ache spread through my chest. He’d been with her?

  “Hendrix?” I asked, afraid to hear his answer.

  “It was before you and I ever met. I told you’d I’d dated other girls, but I’d never been in love. Not until you. We went out a few times and kissed, but that was all. I swear to you. Nothing else. I never slept with her. I’m telling you the truth. Please, you have to believe me.” His striking blue eyes pleaded with me.

  “I don’t know what to think right now. My mother is dead, and the one guy I’ve trusted is being accused of the worst thing I could think of. I’ve only known you for three months, and I can’t ignore what Andrea said. Especially not after my own experience…” I paused, my pulse pounding in my ears. “This is all too much to handle. I need some time apart, Hendrix. Please, don’t contact me. I’ll reach out to you if I want to talk.”

  Hendrix shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t mean that, Gemma. You’re in shock about your mom, which is totally understandable, but you’re not giving me a chance here. Let me prove to you this isn’t true.”

  Pain filled his face as he reached out to touch me again and quickly pulled his hand back.

  Grief and disbelief reared up inside me, and I white-knuckled my bag. I wasn’t sure which was ripping me apart more, losing Mom or losing Hendrix. But the moment the realization hit me, my emotions faded to black again.

  “What do I need to do? I can’t lose you,” he said, his jaw tightening with desperation.

  “Ada Lynn told me if I didn’t hurry, I’d miss my flight. I have to go. Goodbye, Hendrix.”

  “Wait, please,” he said, grabbing my arm.

  My attention dropped to his hand and traveled up again to his haunted expression.

  “Hendrix, my mother is dead. Ada Lynn and Dad need me. You need to let me go.”

  He dropped my arm. “I know you’re in shock and not yourself right now. But deep inside, you know I’d never hurt you, Gem. Never. Catch your plane, and while you’re in Louisiana, I’m going to prove that this girl is lying. You have my word. I didn’t rape her or anyone else.”

  At this point, I had nothing else to say, and I walked away from him.

  The airport doors whooshed open, and I stepped inside and located the baggage check-in. With a quick glance over my shoulder, my attention landed for the last time on Hendrix. His hands were shoved in his front jean pockets, his face etched with pain and sadness as he watched me. With each step, I moved farther and farther away from the one person who breathed life into me, earned my trust, my love, and then ultimately crushed me.

  Half an hour later, I watched the lights of the city fade away and said a silent goodbye to Spokane as my plane made its way to Louisiana. Even though it had only been a few months since I'd stepped off the Greyhound and onto campus, it felt like a lifetime. I was no longer the same girl who'd snuck away in the middle of the night. I would walk into my parents' house a changed person.

  Chapter 2

  Even in November, the temperatures in Louisiana drifted between the upper sixties and lower seventies. After several months in Washington, I’d forgotten the humidity here was stifling. Although it was cooler, since it was three in the morning, I quickly shed my coat upon arrival.

  An eerie feeling washed over me as I stood on the sidewalk outside my house and stared blankly. Mom’s missing white Suzuki left a gaping hole in the driveway next to Dad’s Jeep. The streetlights filled the neighborhood with a soft glow. A dog barked in the distance, but the rest of the street was quiet. I debated whether to call Dad or just use my key to let myself in. He knew I was coming, and I doubted he’d be asleep anyway.

  Somehow, I managed to place one foot in front of the other. As I approached the house, I noticed the peeling yellow paint had been replaced with a new soft beige. Mom’s favorite color. In her mind, if you had a nice beige, you would have no problem matching furniture and pictures. You had the freedom to work with any color you wanted.

  Dread filled me as I made my way up the porch steps and pulled open the screen door, the familiar creak breaking the stillness of the early morning.

  I fumbled for my key in the front pocket of my boyfriend jeans, but before I could fit it in the keyhole, the door swung open.

  “Gemma,” Dad whispered hoarsely.

  His brown and gray hair was plastered against the side of his head, his eyes puffy and rimmed with red. I hadn’t even cried yet.

  “Dad,” I said with a gentleness that I didn’t feel, “I’m here.” He stood back while I walked inside. The familiar smell of Mom’s floral perfume tickled my nose. She always said a well-dressed woman never forgot to put on fragrance before going out.

  I placed my bag on the floor and hugged Dad. His arms wrapped around me tightly.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, smoothing my hair. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, the shock of Mom's death hitting me hard as I scanned the living room. One of her crossword puzzles was tucked between the pages of a Colleen Hoover book resting on the coffee table. Her knitting bag sat next to the couch, overflowing with pink, blue, and purple yarn. Her presence filled every corner of the house. But she would never walk through the front door, work in her garden, or cook dinner for us again. She was gone.

  In one split second, grief overtook me. I fell to my knees, a guttural cry slipping from deep inside me. Dad sank to the floor and pulled me onto his lap. As I sobbed, he rocked me like he did when I was little and had been upset about something. Dad’s shoulders shook, and our tears fell together. Memories of her laughing, crying, and baking all bombarded me. Everything she’d done for me after the rape and pregnancy, everything she’d done for Dad during his treatment...this was what she got in return? How could God be so cruel?

  Eventually, my cries fell silent. Dad and I remained sitting on the living room floor, holding tightly onto each other. It had been years since I’d sat in the middle of the floor like this. Finally we let go, and I stretched my cramped legs out in front of me. The flight home had been agonizingly long.

  “What happened with Mom?” My voice was hoarse from crying, and my head began to throb.

  “She—she was on the way to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions.” He choked on his words, breaking down and sobbing again.

  “Oh, Dad,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault. Mom always took care of the errands for us. It was just something she enjoyed.”

  He wiped his eyes and continued. “A car was speeding and ran the red light. Your mother never had a chance. The impact was so intense, she—she never felt a thing.”

  I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands and shutting my eyes against the scene his words evoked in my mind.

  “She didn’t suffer?”

  He nodded, his jaw tightening. “It was instant,” he murmured.

  We sat in silence as I attempted to wrap my head around everything. It didn't make sense. But accidents like this never did. Anger flickered to life inside me, and I stood, no longer able to sit still. I extended my hand to Dad and helped him off the floor.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked, leading us into the kitchen. He flipped the light on, and I squinted at the sudden brightness.

  “No,” I said. “Not sure I could keep much down right now, anyway.”

  “I understand. Your mom just went grocery shopping yesterday, so the fridge and pantry are full if you’re hungry.”