Marcie's Secret

By Hope Walker

Marcie Bennett isn't looking for love, in fact, she avoids it at all cost. The thought of sharing her mundane life with another person exhausts her. Until she decides to move away from her hovering family and pushy friends.
She meets not only one sexy guy, but two. Brad, the sweet, helpful neighbor she has an instant attraction to, and then Sterling, the business man who has a few skeletons in his closet, that she is sexually drawn to.
Her desire to be with these men will swallow her up and trap her into secrets that go further than she realizes. Their pasts will catch up to her, but their family is what she needs to fear.

Marcie's Secret, a novel, is book 2 in the Keeping Secrets from the Donovans trilogy. Grace's Secret was book 1 and was only a short story to bring you a taste of the Donovan family.
Marcie's Secret is for adult readers as it contains sexual content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hope Walker
• Release date: Nov 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310584206

Hope Walker

About the Author Hope Walker, a stay at home mother, resides in Washington State with her husband and daughter. When she’s not writing, she’s taking care of animals on their small farm located in Snohomish County. She enjoys watching chickens and ducks on their farm run and play. There’s something funny about watching flightless birds run. Busily involved with her daughter’s activities with school, sports and Girl Scouts, she is learning to pencil time in for herself by taking up running, and now putting her love of suspense, with just a taste of erotica, out there for others to enjoy. She hopes her first stories will just be the beginning of her childhood dream of becoming your favorite author.

Book preview

MARCIE’S SECRET

Keeping Secrets from the Donovans (Book 2)

by

Hope Walker

Copyright 2013 Hope Walker

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design in collaboration with Hope Walker

and by

James Mason

http://sebastianhaze.deviantart.com/

Marcie’s Secret is a work of fiction.

Smashword Edition, License Note

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to the ones who told me to keep moving forward. I had so many mixed reviews with Grace’s Secret; that I almost gave up. Marcie’s Secret is my first novel because of the fans Grace’s Secret did have. It’s dedicated to those readers who found it to be special and wanted more. So because of them and their kind words, I ignored the negativity and kept moving forward.

Thank you so much for the continued support you all give me.

Table of Contents

Prologue

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

Ink Slinger excerpt

Split excerpt

About the Author

Prologue

You took everything I ever loved. You made me do it. This is all your fault. I’m going to get it right this time. He stabs the body again. No mistakes.

He watches as she grabs onto the garb floating in the water. It flips over and she’s clambering to get on it. He stands waist-deep in the lake holding the bloody pocketknife while sobbing. This isn’t what he wanted. It isn’t supposed to happen this way.

He continues watching her fight for her life, but he knows she’s going to die soon. He places the weapon in his back pocket and covers his ears to shield the screams. He hurries out of the water and makes his way back up the path to his Jeep.

The screams stop. Trevor climbs into his Jeep and pulls away. His heart is broken into a million pieces. The woman he has loved for so long is dead. She’s not coming back. He slams his fist against the steering wheel and swerves down the gravel road.

Trevor’s not worried that they’ll catch him. This isn’t the first time that someone has had to pay for what they’ve done to him and his family. He picks up his phone and begins to dial quickly.

Hello, a man answers sleepily.

I need your help, Trevor cries into the phone.

The beam from his headlights zig-zag back and forth as he navigates down the narrow road.

What did you do, Trevor?

Please, just come and help me.

The man on the other end sighs then says, I’m on my way.

Trevor pulls the Jeep over and shuts off the engine. He gets out of his vehicle and stumbles into the woods nearby where he empties the contents of his stomach over a mossy rock. He didn’t think he had anything left in his gut after puking the first few times before he killed again.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he kneels down on the ground and screams, Nooo! Why her? Why?

He clenches his fists and hammers them down into the dirt a few times. Once he regains his composure, he makes his way back to the Jeep and drives away from his hell. He doesn’t bother turning on his headlights this time. The moon is bright enough to light his way back to the main road. Plus, he didn’t need to bring attention to himself.

The phone on the passenger seat vibrates. Trevor picks it up and answers, Yes?

I’m on the road. Will you need an alibi?

Yes.

See you soon.

Trevor tosses the phone back onto the seat and does his best to keep his chin from quivering. They’re dead now. There’s no going back.

Chapter 1

I’m not afraid of death. I think about it from time to time as most people do, but it’s never scared me. What frightens me is love.

I realize that most people are excited about love and spend the majority of their lives seeking it out. However, in my world love is something I once avoided like the Black Plague. It was something that attacked you when you least expected it, and then suffocated the life right out of you like a lethal snake. At least that’s how I saw it before.

As I sit with my hands on the steering wheel looking out into the darkness of the world, love is the only emotion that is clinging to me. No, not clinging, choking. It has to be choking me because I can’t breathe. I close my eyes hoping to calm myself.

The images reeling through my mind like an old time movie are all of love. It’s a slide show set on replay. My family. My poor mother, I think to myself, as the breathing becomes difficult to control.

I feel like my lungs are being compressed, but I don’t know what would be causing such a horrific sensation. It’s almost paralyzing.

Slowly opening my eyes once more, I look through the glassless windshield. I’m really cold. It was warm outside when I woke up this morning. The darkness and temperature indicate that morning has since passed. It’s now a memory that stole the remainder of the day.

I begin to hyperventilate at the thought of everyone that will soon be mourning for me. The pain is unbearable. But it’s not my body that hurts. It’s my heart, for having finally found love only to lose it.

It was right there in my grasp. Ready for me to reach out and pull it tight to me.

I suck in another breath as tears begin falling from my swollen eyes like a stream of melting snow.

No, it’s not dying that scares me. It’s knowing that love was never the death sentence I made it out to be. None of that matters now because I’ve lost it. I can place the blame on the ones who put me here, but the only one who’s truly at fault is me.

Sleep weighs on me as it tries to assist the suffocation in ending my life, only it’s comforting me by easing the pain. The tiring sensation takes me out of the crumpled up car, and back to the day I now realize was the first day of actually living my life; the beginning of finding out who I really am.

***

Driving up the snow-capped mountain, I felt an overwhelming gripping-my-heart kind of fear. The sun’s razor sharp rays were not helping the situation either. I pushed the visor down to block the glare the best I could. I knew it wasn’t the driving visibility that was making me anxious. It was something else I didn’t handle too well.

Change was not something that came easily to me. My organization skills and ability to keep a regular schedule were impeccable. Day-to-day routines were my sacred sanctuary. I guess you could say what others considered boring, I found exciting. It completely fulfilled me.

Deciding to move east over the mountains to take a job as an English teacher was completely out of character for me. My family and friends urged me to take the position. They all said the change of scenery and a new start would be just what I needed. I was beginning to think they didn’t know me at all.

Those were the type of things you told to someone who lost a loved one or went through a bad break up. Neither of those things had happened to me. In fact, nothing life-changing had. I think it was just difficult for them to watch my monotonous life play out in front of them.

Traveling, dating around, going out on numerous dates, was the typical lifestyle of all my friends. I’ve listened to them complain nonstop about their love lives, and how they are hung-over on the weekends. Not to mention their constant bitching on how their mind-blowing partying every weekend caused them to go in debt, and how it was beginning to take a toll on them.

Why would I ever want to throw myself into that way of life? It made no sense to me. I had a nice savings account, a cat that snuggled with me every night and was always there for me. I felt great every weekend when I woke up to work in my garden. I went to the movies, read books, and visited museums. There was nothing in my life that needed adjusted.

I was happy. They couldn’t just accept me the way I was. Why do people always have to try to change others? If they all would’ve just left me alone and stopped hounding me about adding more ‘passion’ to my life, I would probably still be in my little house nestled up with a good book.

Taking this job was my way of getting away from them. Maybe living on the other side of the mountain where nobody knew me, I could live my life alone—in peace.

On a daily basis, they’d go out of their way to make me feel unsure of myself. The final straw was when my best friend Kristen began asking if I was a lesbian. All because I never babbled about any guys or seemed to date much.

Her question took me by surprise, but mostly it just pissed me off. We’d gotten into an intense argument, and I knew right then and there that I did need a change of scenery, but not for the reasons they believed.

Just because I didn’t text them, or flood my status updates about men I had gone out with, didn’t mean I was gay. I went out with my fair share of men a couple times a month.

Yes, I even had sex with most of them too. My friends would probably be shocked to learn that. I was not as uninteresting as they made me out to be.

Numerous guys told me that I was amazing in the bedroom. I believe one even referred to me as a sex kitten. Admittedly, I wasn’t bashful when it came to sex.

I could’ve made my friends happy by letting them in to that part of my life, but that’s just not me. I wasn’t one to kiss and tell. I’ve never put my emotions out there, so sex was just sex to me. It meant nothing more. Plus, I didn’t need a boyfriend to complicate my uncomplicated life.

I’ve never been in love. I have no desire to share my whole life with another person. The thought sounds asphyxiating to me.

Wanting to be alone to live my life the way I find comfortable is all I wanted to do. The move over the mountains would allow me to do just that.

The change scared me. However, there was a freedom I felt that got stronger with every mile I put between us. I felt like a butterfly carefully shedding her cocoon.

Looking out the window toward the mountainous terrain, I began to feel a little more at ease. There were several months out of the year when the pass would be treacherous for travel, meaning my family wouldn’t be able to come for a visit.

As I made my way down the steep slope, the scenery began to transform. The last snow of the year was in large dirty piles on the side of the highway from the last plow job. There wouldn’t be any more accumulative snow this year. The little that was left would be gone once the temperatures began to rise in the next couple of months with the start of summer.

Fields of rolling grass and wheat set the golden backdrop for this area of the state. This was a complete change from the west side where everything was lush and green.

I rolled my window down to let a breeze dance through my car. The fragrance from the trees created an aroma that was different from what I was used to. The Ponderosa Pine was a dry, woodsy-vanilla scent. It was very welcoming in comparison to the damp, salty smell I was used to living with.

Farther down the highway, the vast landscape opened up for miles all around me. I could feel the warmth of spring here, unlike in Bellingham where it was still cold.

Butterflies tickled my insides as time passed on and I arrived closer to my destination in Central Washington. I gave a little a chuckle at the irony when I passed a sign that read ‘Central Washington University, Next Exit’.

At one time during my freshmen year in college, I considered moving to attend that school. Instead, I chose to remain close to home, thinking I couldn’t handle the change and being away from my friends and family. I was now twenty-five and I knew myself better than I did at age eighteen.

Turning off the highway, I navigated toward the center of town to my new home. I could’ve leased a house outside of the city limits and really have been alone, but I was afraid of being that far out during the winter months. I wasn’t a snow driver, nor did I desire becoming one. I drove as well on snow as a toddler walking over ice.

So instead, I chose a small house near the high school where I would be teaching. Being that close to work would allow me to walk if the weather scared me from driving my car. It was really a public service duty for me to stay off winter roads anyway.

I pulled into my new driveway and immediately began stretching my gangly arms and spindly legs upon exiting my car. I hurried along my sidewalk to unlock the front door.

I wanted to get my cat, Mr. Blake, out of his carrier and into the house. I knew he needed time to acquaint himself with his new surroundings in the sneaky way cats do, but for today he would just have to get used to being closed in the bedroom. I couldn’t risk him slithering out the door while I brought in boxes.

After Mr. Blake settled into the bedroom, I head out to my car and began unloading it. Last weekend, my family helped me move all of my other belongings. Today I just had my final boxes of loose ends.

It was the weekend from hell having them here, but I couldn’t have done it all without their help. I let them instruct me on everything from where to put my couch to how I should mow my lawn. It was easier to smile and nod as they advised me than to argue with them. I knew this weekend I could make my house the way I wanted it, like moving my couch in front of the large window, instead of facing it.

A large box tumbled to the ground before I could grab it when I opened the trunk of my car. Cussing under my breath, I bent down to pick it up. I prayed nothing broke inside. A man’s voice frantically hollering from across the street startled me. Is he yelling at me? I asked myself as I turn to see what’s going on.

He’s beautiful. I suddenly felt sweat seeping through the palms of my hands and armpits. I always perspired when I was nervous, and I was constantly uneasy around pretty people. The heat outside wasn’t helping either.

My mind immediately sent a signal to my mind that this handsome, arm-waving guy was already making his assumptions about me. It was an unnerving fault of mine.

I instantly thought everyone was judging everything about me the moment his or her eyes zeroed in on me. They were mentally criticizing my mousy, stringy brown hair that hung around my face, or my glasses that had a scratch on one lens. I bet myself that they were wondering why I was dressed like a frumpy teenager, when I was actually in my mid-twenties.

I knew they stared at me and wondered why I didn’t try to put my hair up, or wear contact lenses, maybe even wear something form fitting to show off my figure. My friends said the same stuff to me. If they were not afraid to disparage me, then I knew there was nothing stopping a complete stranger from doing it.

My outer appearance was why men were always shocked that I could become someone entirely different in the bedroom. My inner sex goddess was a miraculous discovery. In a way, I guess you could say they got two girls on their date.

One that was intelligent and seemingly shy and reserved. The other would turn confident and aggressive in the bedroom. Too bad for them, it would only be a one-time experience. I never returned any of their calls afterward. I had a gift to turn off my emotions and walk away with no strings attached.

Suddenly, I was tackled like a football player. I found myself flat on my back being licked to death by a huge dog, or maybe it was a small horse. The stench of dog breath overwhelming my senses begged me for strength to push the Great Dane off me.

Ugh! Gah! I said while kicking my legs and flailing my arms.

The licking stopped almost as quickly as it had hit me. Returning to my feet, I quickly dusted off the dirt from my shorts. With a snarl on my sticky, wet face, I adjusted my glasses while squinting through them, and spotted the dog standing next to Mr. Wonderful.

The heat from my nerves returned, and embarrassment began to redden my scowling face. I didn’t move or say anything. Instead, I stood there with the stupid look on my dog-slobbered face, in my oversized mustard-stained t-shirt, and I just stared at the wide-eyed, handsome stranger.

Mentally I told myself that my silence was just allowing him a minute to scrutinize this gangly girl standing in front of him as they all do. I was guessing it was even worse this time since I had mutt mucus dripping off me.

I’m so sorry about Brutus. I hope he didn’t hurt you, Mr. Wonderful said as he made his way closer to me while leashing the dog.

I snapped out of my self-ridicule to respond, N... No. He didn’t hurt me. He scared the shit out of me, but he didn’t hurt me, I snorted out a laugh. As soon as it left my mouth, my hand covered it, and my brown eyes grew wide in horror for letting the sound escape me.

Mr. Wonderful laughed as he put his free hand out to introduce himself to me, I’m Brad. I live across the street, he nodded over to a blue craftsman style house with a cute front porch and white picket fence. This here is Brutus. He gave the leash a pull to keep the black horse-like dog in his control.

I shook his hand and instantly regretted it because it was soaking wet from the sweat of my nerves. Pulling my hand away, I introduced myself, Nice to meet you, Brad and Brutus. I’m Marcie.

Brad raised an eyebrow and reached for my face with the back of his hand, which caused me to jerk away. Sorry, he apologized as he wiped the dog slobber from my face. Brutus really did a number on your face with his kisses.

Humiliated, I looked away from him, but only briefly because he had a way of pulling me in, even in my most vulnerable state. This in itself was amazing, since I had just met him. My nerves electrified with the touch of his hand caressing my cheek. Yes, I was aware he wasn’t technically ‘caressing’ my cheek, but my responsive body didn’t know the difference.

Well, Marcie, can I help you with these boxes? he asked as he wiped the back of his hand off on his shorts. I’m sorry I startled you earlier and made you drop this one, Brad said, as he used one arm to pick up the box that had fallen on the ground.

I was impressed by his strength. I knew how heavy that box was.

Brutus saw a cat and he took off before I could fasten his leash, and well, you know the rest. Again, I’m really sorry.

Thanks, Brad. I can get these boxes. I appreciate your offer, I really do, but they’re the last ones. I put my arms out for him to pass the box over to me. It took both of my arms to carry it, unlike him.

Brad handed it to me, and I swear his teeth sparkled and made a ting sound when he smiled. He was absolutely adorable! And let’s not forget those dimples.

He was remarkably handsome with short blonde hair, and sapphire blue eyes. They even shined like a gem. I could see a bulge of muscles under his white t-shirt. His tan legs stemming from his khaki cargo shorts were long and muscular. I could tell he took good care of himself.

He’s obviously a guy who worked out and watched what he put in his mouth. I know something I would like to put in his mouth. The clammy palms returned, signaling me that I needed to grasp the box tighter and get my ass into the house.

It was nice to meet you, Marcie. Brad waved goodbye as he jogged across the street to his house.

You too, Brad, my voice cracked as I hollered back.

Shaking the thoughts of him out of my head, I stumbled my way back inside where I could hear my cat making a god-awful meowing sound from my bedroom.

I knew he wasn’t fond of being locked into one area. He liked to be able to roam the whole house. Not loving the sound coming from my bedroom, I decided I need to hurry and get the rest of the boxes inside so I could let him explore the rest of his new home.

Each trip out the door to my car felt like a trip into the hot, desert sun. The temperature rising inside me in hopes of seeing just a glance of Brad was going to cause me to have a heat stroke. It wasn’t even that hot out here. It was mostly just the burning inside of me. I would need a shower to remove the sweat that had been dotting all over me.

Knowing that I only had one box left and I wasn’t ready to bury myself into the house just then, I decided to look around outside for a hose to wash my car.

It could use an honest cleaning from the dust that blanketed it from the long drive over the mountain. I found a garden hose on the side of the house and yanked it hand-over-hand to the driveway. I headed to the backyard where the outbuildings were. I was pretty sure I had everything I needed to wash the car.

My dad organized the shed when he helped me unload the moving truck last weekend. I was right; everything I needed was there. After retrieving a water pail, soap and a scrub brush, I began to hose my car down before scrubbing it.

Now, this wasn’t like one of those sexy commercials where you saw a hot girl in ripped jean shorts washing a car, all while drenching herself with the hose. Then kneading soap all over her fake-tanned, scrawny ass and large breasts. Or the one where she sprawls out all soaking wet on the hood of the car, washing the windshield with her boobs. No, that wasn’t this scene at all. It was completely opposite.

This was just me in grey cotton gym shorts, wearing a nasty looking t-shirt that Kristen brought back for me from Mexico probably three years ago, trying to scrub my car with no arm muscles. Sure soap was getting on me, but I wasn’t rubbing it around with a fan blowing my hair. All while making duck faces in Brad’s direction. Would it turn him on if I did? Marcie! I scolded myself for the thought.

He hadn’t even come back out of his house, and why should he? There really was nothing to see here. It didn’t stop me from hoping that he would make an appearance. I felt a little ashamed for even thinking it. That was so not me.

I’ve never put myself in a situation where I’d wished to see a guy again. Even in high school when I had a crush on Jeff Winston. I never did any of the normal giddy-girl things like every single one of my friends.

Ah, but here I was, out washing my car in hopes of seeing my new neighbor, who just so happened to be one of the hottest guys I’ve ever spoken to. I actually blushed just thinking about him. Who am I? I snapped out of my wanderlust to finish cleaning my car and gave up on the idea of seeing Brad. I had a lot of unpacking to do.

After one final rinse, I turned off the spigot, rolled up the hose, and slowly meandered my way back into the house. I snuck a few glances across the tree-lined street over in Brad’s direction, but there was no hottie sighting. Deciding it was probably a good thing I didn’t spot him, I closed the door and began the tedious task of unpacking.

Boxes lined the hallway, and were now centerpieces on every table in my house. All my large furniture was already in place from the move last weekend. My couch was now in its rightful home.

All that was left to do was unpack my personal belongings and decor. Let’s face it, I really didn’t have a design style, so there wasn’t much for decorations. Most of it was books, photograph albums, and a few art pieces I’d collected.

Mr. Blake was happy to be out of the bedroom, and even more pleased to have boxes to hide and play in. I welcomed the quietness of the new home, and the comfort of knowing that nobody would just pop in and criticize me for being inside on such a nice early spring day.

My weekend was already planned of course. I had some new books downloaded on my reading tablet that I was going to read, and then the following day I was going to walk downtown and acquaint myself with the shops. Later in the day, I would walk to the high school and finish getting my classroom in order.

I didn’t have a whole lot to do at the school since I was starting the job near the end of the school year. I figured I wouldn’t do a whole lot of changing until the start of the next school year. I was sure it was difficult enough for the students to deal with the unexpected termination of their teacher. They didn’t need me interrupting their flow any more than need be.

There was nothing exciting about my weekend, but that was precisely why I moved here. I crossed my arms and smiled at the thought.

Chapter 2

The next morning I awoke with Mr. Blake purring beside me on the other pillow. The sun was peeking through the cracks in the window shade informing me that it was going