Cole

By J.B. Hartnett

Anika Redding, talented artist, overcame her past to live her life free of shame.
Betrayed by people she thought she could trust, the last thing she expected was to find true love in Cole Carlyle.

Their love for each other has helped them overcome their demons before, but now faced with an unimaginable challenge, Cole must turn to the last person he wants involved in his life, and hope that those demons don’t once again try to swallow them whole.

Inky and Cole’s romance and passion ignite and in the sequel to “Inky” we follow their journey to overcome their pasts once and for all, while building their love into something everlasting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.B. Hartnett
• Release date: Sep 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301319992

J.B. Hartnett

A Southern California native, Julie is a fan of a really good story, really good pie and really good coffee. She lives with her husband and two boys in Melbourne, Australia.

Book preview

Acknowledgements

The shout out!

My sister, Kendra. Thanks for the research, reading and listening to ideas… you are very, very patient. My husband, who hasn’t seen a clean house in months, but has never complained. My boys who wait patiently while mommy types and types and types, you’re the little gifts that keep on giving… LOVE YOU ALL!!

To my supportive pals a.k.a. hand-holders and ledge talking downers: Kimberly Muresan, Jennifer Hamori, Jenna Petrotta, Kelli Catanese, Jaye Pamment and Natasha Van Doren. My support team and cyber sisters, Lisa Schilling-Hintz and the Rock Stars of Romance, Coleen Ritter-Garvey (we’ll be having drinks on the Lido deck someday), Julie Richman, Karen Harper, Nancy S. Thompson (K&N I’m thinking we need to find bumpy and wine) and B.J. Harvey (you, me and Jenny, watch out world), Jenny Aspinall and Gitte Doherty, Jennifer Garrison-Trevino, Sandy Roman Borerro, Hetty Whitmore-Rasmussen, Elizabeth Santiago, Joanne Christenson, Kelly Findlay - without making anyone blush to the tips of their toes, you ladies have been amazing. You have all put up with my meltdowns and I’m grateful, you have no idea. Amazing friends, amazing peers, just amazing and I feel very blessed to have all of you in my life.

The panel: Jenny Currier-Walkowiak, Robin Bateman, Dawn Chic, Heather Lueschen and Jessie Soto… thanks for your advice ladies.

To all the blogs: you take a chance on unknowns and with just your words, give Indie authors a chance they would never have otherwise. A million, billion thanks to you.

Kristen Ashley, you rock!

To the readers who loved INKY – a friend asked me, What were your goals when you started writing? My answer was, I wanted to rip people’s guts out, make them cry and put them back in again with hot sex and unbelievable love that wins over every other obstacle. It sounds all very dramatic now, but I am a believer in happily ever after. I know through storytelling, I can provide that, but life is messy. I knew the topic of child abuse was going to be a hard pill for some to swallow, but I appreciate that you all stuck with it. I was inspired by the story of a dear, dear friend. Some of you shared your stories of abuse with me and not only is this humbling, it’s also a testament that you survived… just like Inky. So to all the believers in happily ever after, the survivors and everyone else that stuck with this tale despite the mammoth cliff-hanger, thank you!

http://www.rainn.org/get-help/sexual-assault-and-rape-international-resources

http://www.lifeline.org.au/

Cole 1

I knew she thought I was upset or pissed, but it was just the opposite. Actually I was kind of pissed at my mom. I love the woman, but fuckin’ a, she has this way of getting in my business and she ruined the surprise. I never intended to keep it a secret from Anika that I’d wanted to be an artist way back when. I’d had this planned for a while, pretty much since I laid eyes on her.

I walked downstairs after she had finished my portrait knowing this was it, the time was right. Maybe it was too soon, maybe I was rushing things, but I knew I had no doubts and I was positive she felt exactly the same way. She would marry me for love. She would be a partner. She wouldn’t care about the bullshit that goes with my father’s lifestyle and company. Not like my ex, Emma. Anika was real. She saw me for the man I am, not the man everyone else expected me to be.

The first time I saw her was the day I gave Emma her two million dollar settlement. I’d fallen for Emma’s game: hook, line and sinker. We went to Vegas, did the whole drive through Elvis thing, drank and gambled for three days straight and came back to my condo. She then decided the condo would never suit the little family we would be having. She told me she went off birth control and wanted to give me the family I’d always dreamed of. Lies. All lies. We put my place on the market and started looking for houses. I didn’t care about anything flashy. I had a nice car, a Range Rover, only two years old, but it wasn’t a Maserati or anything. Not that I couldn’t afford it. I could’ve asked my father for any amount of money and he would have happily given it to me, but the strings attached meant I had to step up and take my place at his company. That was something I would not, could not, do.

Walking down the beach, I wondered if Anika had made her way downstairs and found the sketch pad. I loved being able to finally share this with her. She had fallen asleep in my arms and I waited, just like I had for the other sketches I’d done of her, until I heard her breathing become slow and even. Never had I felt this calm, ever. I had carefully moved from her and gone to the bedroom, where I had hidden the large sketch pad at the back of the closet. I crept back upstairs, careful not to wake her, and drew her in a grey charcoal. This was how I always did it. I had looked around the room and was grateful I had made this into a studio for her. She’s such an incredible painter. I didn’t know anything about her when we met, but when I found out she was an artist, it made my attraction to her even stronger. God, I hoped she would say yes.

I’d been walking up the beach for at least twenty minutes. Maybe she didn’t come downstairs. Fuck. I hope I didn’t upset her or worse, cause her to have an anxiety attack. I never want to be the cause of them; I want to be the cure. I turned around, deciding to start heading back just in case.

I hoped the ring fit. I chose it because the day we met I remembered thinking her eyes were the color of a fancy diamond, a colored diamond. My father, among his other enterprises, had his big fat toe in mining. It’s actually where he made most of his money. He’s a good business man, no doubt about it, but he’s ruthless and he doesn’t care who he pisses off, pisses on, or hurts along the way. That being the main reason I wanted nothing to do with his company. Anyway, I wanted something a little different for Anika. She’s unique, a one of a kind and whatever ring she wore needed to be the same. But, if she hates it I’ll get her whatever she wants.

I just hope she says yes.

Heading back to the steps that lead up to my beach house, I started to have my own panic attack. How was I going to handle this if she said no? I’d deal with it, if it happened. We’d deal with it.

The wind had really started to pick up when I was hit with a memory of Emma like a ton of bricks.

Oh, hon, the ocean breeze does terrible things to my hair. Do you really like the beach that much you’d want to see your wife with frizzy hair all the time? She bats her lashes at me and gives me that little pouty lip look. I know you like to surf, but that’s a hobby. You can just drive down from the house when you want to go.

House? She knows I’m disappointed, but I’m not stupid. I know she’s had her eye on something.

Oh, you can afford it. It’s completely over the top… your father will hate it.

That should’ve been my first clue: this house? My dad would hate this place. It was set back enough from the cliffside that I didn’t have to worry about erosion washing it away when heavy rains came. It happened about ten years ago; all these people watched the foundations of their million dollar beach homes slide onto Pacific Coast Highway. This place was unfinished when I bought it. The man who previously owned it was a lawyer. He did well for himself (I researched him to find out why I was getting such a bargain). It turned out, he had lived way above his means which meant when the financial crisis hit, he had to let go of extras and this unfinished 1960’s beach house was one of those. Luckily, he had already paid to have the house retrofitted, so the surveyor assured me I wouldn’t see my home halfway down a cliff after a heavy rain.

I surfed just about every day unless the conditions were too stormy or the water was more polluted than usual. Rain or shine, I didn’t care. If it was cold I wore a wet-suit, but the crisp water cleared my head almost as much as sex with my beautiful woman upstairs.

I waited long enough. She must have been flipping out or something to not come and find me.

Anika?

Where the hell was she? The house felt empty as my heart jumped inside my chest. I was so sure she would say yes, but whatever she decided, what’s done is done. Now she knows my intentions, though I never kept it a secret I wanted to marry her. I walked through the entire living and dining area, there was no sign of her.

She wouldn’t have bolted. She wouldn’t have. I bet she called Aimes. I swear that girl is going to kill her best friend for not staying here and talking to me. Lucky for me, I had her number.

I shut the sliding door that led to the deck from the living room and went to the kitchen, grabbed my phone and dialed Aimes. I wanted to call her Amelia because it was her actual name, but these girls are all about their nicknames, so I never pushed it.

Aimes, it’s Cole.

Hello lover boy. Did you give it to her yet?

What do you mean? Didn’t she tell you? I couldn’t believe Anika had not called Aimes to discuss my proposal with her; those two seemed to confer about everything.

No. I haven’t seen her since we had lunch at your place… unless she didn’t want to tell me because I’d just told her all my big news. Women. Jesus.

Yeah, I’m so sorry Aimes, of course congratulations. Listen if you hear from her, tell her to come back. I left it for her to find and I assume she’s just trying to wrap her head around the whole idea. I’ll try her phone.

Well, give us a call and let us know. Or just tell that drama queen to call me when you find her.

Are you sure you want me to use those words? I laughed.

Yes. She knows I love her.

Will do, Aimes. Tell Gus hello.

Bye. We hung up and I decided to go upstairs and confirm my suspicions that I had, in fact scared the hell out of my girlfriend. I should have looked there first – stupid. Her ex proposed to her during a meteor shower and even though they didn’t work out, he really set the bar as far as marriage proposals go. Anika? I looked around the room and in the bathroom. Her purse was on the floor so she didn’t go far, thank God. Shit. Maybe she’s been upstairs this entire time, waiting for me? Anika, are you up here?

Nope.

Where the fuck was she? I decide to call her. Yeah, I should have probably just let her have some time to think, but I needed to hear her voice at least. I needed to know she was okay.

Then I heard her phone ring.

Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name echoed through the room around me. Ha. She still hadn’t changed that ring tone. I told her I didn’t want to give love a bad name, I wanted to give it a good name. As I pondered this, the fact that her phone was here, in the room, registered. You give love, a bad name. Her phone was here and the song was playing from her bag. I looked over to the bed and the ring was gone, so obviously she was wearing it or at least had it with her. Probably mulling it over, so she couldn’t have gone too far. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to call Aimes back.

You didn’t hear from her, did you? I asked. Noticing the slight panic in my voice, maybe she wasn’t mulling it over.

Nope. She answered with, what I detected as, hilarity in her tone. Dude, what the hell did you say to her Cole?

Believe me, I didn’t say anything. I’ll let her tell you. But she actually didn’t take her phone, so she couldn’t have gone far. I tried to assure myself.

Call me when she gets back, so I can smack her upside the head.

I will. Thanks, Aimes.

Good luck, Cole. She was laughing as she hung up.

I decided to sit in the living room and wait. I opened a beer and sat across from the painting I bought of hers. She named it ‘The Seaside’ and it tells our story. I’ll never forget the day I sang to her when she had a full blown anxiety attack at work. I’d gone back to the place where she bartended to apologize for being a dick, and for the simple reason that I could not get her out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. This little trip down memory lane was great and all, but it was starting to get dark, and now I was halfway between pissed off and worried that she was alone, without her purse or her phone. She could’ve grabbed some cash, but I doubted it.

Aimes?

Cole? She mused, but her voice changed suddenly. Wait, is she still gone? I was hoping she was there, with her best friend.

I’m actually starting to get worried. I hated to admit that. And mostly, if I was completely honest with myself, it was because Aimes was engaged to Gus. Gus was a former Marine who’d served in Iraq. He’s a man’s man. The kind of guy who just had that presence that would scare the fuck out of you and make you walk the opposite direction, rather than face whatever consequence he might carry out. I was tall and broad, but definitely leaner.

Basically, I didn’t want to look like a fuckin’ pussy in front of Gus, the former Marine.

Listen, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s used to being independent and believe me, she can handle herself. She’s probably just trying to get her head around the idea of being Mrs. Cole Carlyle.

Well, I don’t care if she keeps her name, I care that she’s out at night without her phone and purse and you haven’t heard from her. I decided to just embrace my inner bad-ass and focus on the fact that she was out there… not that I was afraid she was running away from an overbearing man who proposed after knowing her for only a few months.

Call us back in half –

Hang on, there’s another call Aimes. It’s probably her.

Go easy on her Cole. You know, baby steps and all. She said softly.

I’ll call you back, Aimes. Thanks. I touched the screen and lifted the phone back to my ear.

Anika, I am going to kill you when you get back here. Then I’m gonna give you orgasms all night long until you beg me to stop…

Mr. Carlyle.

My heart stopped beating.

Y-yes?

You will do as I ask. If you do not do as I ask, I will have no choice but to kill your sweet little piece of ass, but not before I fuck her like I fucked her for years. You will transfer the ownership of your hotels back to the original bidders, before your father played dirty with other people’s lives. Then you will speak to my uncle, explain that I have restored the company to the family, so Serena and I can finally be together. Then, I will take my Serena and go. Do you understand me? Transfer Trinity and give me Serena.

Yes. Let me talk to her. Let me hear her voice. I asked as calmly as possible.

"Ah, no no no. You’ve done plenty of talking with my sweet Annie here. What a happy coincidence for me that she happened to drop right back into my life and also into that of you and your disgrazia father. What is that saying… two birds, one stone?"

Let me know she’s alive. I could barely keep the fury rising up from choking me. Let me just hear her. Let me tell her I’m going to help her. I need to tell her. Please. I’ll do and give you anything. Please. I seethed through clenched teeth, desperate to hear her voice.

You’re wasting my time, Mr. Carlyle, and hers with your begging. You look outside your front gate; you will see a small brown box.

I ran to the gate and looked around. Have you found it? The man asked.

I spotted it in the street and ran to grab it. The wind must’ve blown it away. I have it.

You look inside now. I could hear the smile in his voice. Not one of mirth, this was sinister. It was evil.

Oh fuck. I’d heard stories like this. I’d watched documentaries and I knew shit like this happened, but not to me. Not to her. Never to her. I couldn’t look inside or I would lose it completely. Please don’t hurt her. I said evenly. I can make arrangements for cash, anything, just bring her here, now.

I do not negotiate, Mr. Carlyle. Two things: transfer the company and my uncle will let me have Serena back. Those are my terms.

I could hear her, just barely in the background. I can hear her, please let me talk to her.

I will give you ten seconds. Then you will hear nothing until the transfer of ownership is complete. It goes back to the family. No questions asked and I spare her life. I have watched you deny your father for years, Mr. Carlyle, but I am not convinced. I hope you make the right choice and chose her life over money. You have until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. The contents of that box are just the beginning. I would prefer not to hurt her unless you force me to. The phone muffled, "I’m going to time it now my dolce, say what you need to… could be the last time."

Cole? She said. Her voice was shaking, I knew she was crying. Yes. No matter what happens. That’s my answer. If something goes wrong, I love you, forever baby. Forever. She cried.

Forever. I will Anika. I promise I’ll keep you safe. My voice was fierce and strong. I didn’t want her to think I would fail, even if I didn’t believe it myself.

The line went dead. I wasn’t even sure what to do first, but I knew I had to call my father.

Cole 2

Anika

How could a day that was turning out to be the best of my life, go so horribly wrong.

Joe had untied me not long after he’d… oh my God. How was I here? What did I do to deserve this? My ankles were still bound with zip ties to the frame of the bed, which was a small blessing. My blood was being soaked up by the sheets. I was pretty sure the bleeding had stopped now, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at my injuries.

I lay there, contemplating my future. I began with the here and now, which took me to an outcome that was the opposite of good.

Since that wasn’t productive, I decided to focus on my future with Cole. I said yes. He’d proposed… a proposal which kicked my ex’s, Evan, right out of the ball-park of marriage proposals.

In the weeks that Cole and I had officially been a couple, we had covered an enormous amount of ground. We made a deal: don’t hold anything back. Whatever needed to be said was said. From pet-peeves to sexual preferences, we left no stone unturned. He knew I’d been repeatedly molested by none other than the man who was my current abductor. He also knew that my mother was not only aware of what was done to me by her then boyfriend, but encouraged him to defile me in a number of other disgusting ways. Cole admitted he was concerned that one day he might try something with me, something sexual in the heat of a moment filled with passion that would trigger something ugly that Joe and my mother did. Although he didn’t completely believe me (or he thought I was in denial) I had managed not to allow any of that to sully what I might share with a lover. My mother and Joe may have stolen my childhood and my innocence, but that was where it ended for me. There were a couple of exceptions, but even then, nothing sexual had ever triggered an anxiety attack for me.

Singing was different.

When I was a little girl and after my dad walked out on us, my mom changed. Almost instantly, she became mean. It started with a slap here and there and she never apologized. It was as if she got worse every day that passed. Most afternoons, she would start drinking as soon as we got home from school. She would pick me up a half hour after the other kids, but I was allowed to stay in the principal’s office and wait. One day she came in and greeted the familiar women, and said, Come on sweetie, let’s go get ice cream. She led me to the hall outside the door and said in a dark whisper, Don’t fucking move. Her demeanor changed again and as she went back into the office and said to the women there, Has she seemed okay to you? This was directed toward the principal, a woman she’d known for years.

Well, Marla, she’s been very quiet. Mrs. Tully has expressed a concern regarding Anika. Mrs. Tully was my teacher. She had huge breasts and always had bright pink lipstick that smudged to the corners of her mouth. She was also really nice to me.

I was afraid of that… my mother said concerned. Since her father left, she’s been getting worse. She… we… then she broke into small sobs and I could hear the women move to comfort her.

Oh, Marla. Have you heard from him? My principal, Mrs. Avery asked.

He said he couldn’t do it anymore. He said he told me he didn’t want kids, but when I found out I was pregnant… I just couldn’t… she’s so sweet, I thought it would be okay…

Men are assholes. This was said by Mrs. Weizenhunt. She was at least one hundred years old and she had said a bad word.

I listened in shock and wasn’t sure what had surprised me more. The fact my dad left because he never wanted me in the first place. That my mom had just turned into a different person, or that Mrs. Weisenhunt had said a bad word

You tell us what you need, Marla. We’ll look out for her. You’ll get through this. Mrs. Avery told her.

Thanks, gals. I better go. I promised my baby girl ice cream. She said tugging on every heart string in the room.

She came to the hallway and took my hand, knowing all eyes were watching her walk away with me. Then in a voice only I could hear she told me, You better get smart and quick, little girl. I was confused, but she was my mom so I did exactly what she told me and studied like crazy.

That month I made the honor role at school. My grades had always been good, but we had just taken some big test. All the kids had to take it and my score was the highest in the school; even higher than the older kids.

There was going to be an award given to me at the school assembly, so I gave the letter to my mom, letting her know