Mishap: Book 2: Counterplay

By Elizabeth Burgess

Amidst this shocking loss, the game must still be played.

Struggling with the death of their son, Andrew and Arianne Douglas put aside their individual desires and cling to one another, and their family.

Torn between duty to the woman pregnant with his child and his one true love, Gregory Adams steps away from Arianne, knowing her husband is the only one who can bring her back from this despair.

Millie Douglas reaches out to the last person she ever expected, spurred by the loss of the man most dear to her and her unintended culpability in his death. This unforeseen alliance sends a shockwave through her own life, and the family around her.

Each player has invested everything on the success of "Operation". They can't turn back now. Their careers, reputations… their entire lives… are on the line. Grief must be set aside, or they risk losing everything. 

The show will go on. 

mis•hap
ˈmisˌhap/
1. An unlucky accident
2. An unfortunate disaster

The Counterplay Series follows the Douglases, Adames, Caissys, and O'Malleys—four intertwined South Louisiana families and their struggle for power, love, and revenge. Your move.

*This series is intended for 18+ audiences due to language and adult content. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elizabeth Burgess
• Release date: Apr 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386691648

Book preview

Chapter 1

Unable to shake a bad feeling, Andrew Douglas stepped out onto the pier of his Madisonville boathouse for some fresh air. Though the moon and stars above him remained clear, a low, ominous fog rolled from Lake Pontchartrain and into the slough where the old house sat. Instinct told him to grab his boy and head back to Metairie, but the last thing he wanted to do was crowd his wife—especially given the newness of their reconciliation. As he recalled the conversation from a few hours before, he smiled. He was glad Arianne had been honest about Gregory coming over and even happier nothing had happened. Maybe there was hope for their marriage after all.

Andrew peered in the doorway and strained to see the slow, rhythmic movement of Pike’s chest. The revelation that his best friend was the biological father of his third son was nothing short of excruciating, but more than that, it was a wake-up call. He’d driven Arianne to Gregory’s arms—not once, but twice—and the penance Andrew paid was this thirteen-year-old, whom he loved more than his own life. He thought of the words he’d spoken to Arianne the day Pike was born, knowing then that he wasn’t the child’s father. Arianne, he is proof our love can go through any storm and survive. He believed that even more now.

Sharp movement to the right caught his eye. He hurried to the front of the pier and pointed a flashlight. The thick, powerful tail of an alligator slid underneath the edge of the house. Superstitious since childhood, Andrew had spent many a summer listening to Paw Wes tell stories of the feared loup garou and the mystical fifolet, and now, he recalled the wise words of the old Cajun.

Boy, bes’ not let a gator crawl under ya house. It a warnin’, someone ya love done been called ta Glory.

Tonight of all nights, Andrew took heed of his grandfather’s omen.

Pike? Wake up. Andrew hurried through the kitchen and into the bedroom.

Dad? The brown-eyed boy stretched, sitting up.

Let’s go. We need to get back to Metairie. Andrew grabbed a pillow and a blanket for the trip. You can sleep on the way.

What’s wrong, Daddy?

It’s probably nothing, but I feel like we need to go check on your mama. Through sheer determination, he calmed his nerves for the sake of his son. The last thing Pike needed to see was his father upset. Snatching keys off the kitchen table, his heart thumped harder and faster with each passing moment. Something was wrong. Very wrong. As he led the boy down the gravel path to his truck, Andrew inhaled a harsh breath, fearing he was already too late. Overhead, the perilous shrill of a screech owl told him he was.

---

Nash… Nash… oh, God, no… my son…

Arianne’s agonizing cries cut Lesley’s heart in two as numb fingers fumbled with her phone. Only minutes before, Lesley had arrived to find her best friend holding the bloodied body of her son, Nash. Thankfully, he was alive, but barely. The ambulance was literally seconds behind her and had made quick work of stabilizing the young man for transfer from the Douglas house to River City Medical Center in New Orleans, Louisiana.

Andrew? Lesley said into the receiver.

What’s wrong? I-I’m already on my way. Andrew’s words were hushed, careful not to wake Pike, sleeping in the backseat.

It’s Nash. He’s been shot.

His voice caught in his throat. How… how… bad?

An abdominal wound, I think. Ari found him in your kitchen. They’re about to load him in the ambulance.

Oh, God… Through the phone, Andrew heard the muffled screams of his wife, and he hit the accelerator, thankful he’d listened to his gut. He was only twenty minutes away from the hospital where he’d been chief of surgery for the past fifteen years. I’m going straight to Rivers. What about the other kids? Reece? Sydney?

As far as I know, Arianne and Nash were the only two in the house.

Arianne rose to her knees, pleading with the ambulance crew. I want to go with him. Lesley, I want to go with him. Please let me.

Mrs. Douglas, we need you here to answer questions, an officer insisted.

Andrew thought ahead to the possibility of his wife’s incrimination and blurted, Lesley, I want Del with her.

"Officer, this is Mrs. Douglas’ husband. He demands their family lawyer be present," Lesley said.

Ma’am, we need answers.

Look at her. Lesley pointed to forlorn Arianne, who had dropped to her knees again, holding her stomach. She can barely speak. You won’t let her go with her child. At least do this woman the courtesy of waiting for her lawyer.

Let me talk to her, Andrew said as he noticed a detour sign for I-10.

Hang on. Lesley knelt next to her friend, then held the phone to Arianne’s ear. It’s Andrew.

Andrew, she said in a breathy whisper.

Sweetheart, I’m on my way to Rivers. Lesley is staying with you. Don’t say a word until Del arrives. Not one word, Arianne. He stopped, overcome with the desire to hold her and their children. Ari, I love you. We’re gonna make it through this.

Our son? Please save our son. My baby.

The phone went dead; he didn’t bother calling back. Lesley had her hands full with Arianne, but Andrew needed answers and knew of only one person who could help him. When he dialed his ex-wife’s number, he wasn’t surprised when she picked up on the first ring.

It’s Nash, isn’t it, Andrew? Millie was hysterical.

Millie?

Where is he? I told him to wait. I told him to wait.

He’s been shot, Mills. Andrew waited for her response, but she was silent. Millie?

No, no… I told him… I told him not to go back there… oh, God… Nash.

Puzzled, he asked, Back where, Millie?

To your house. Is he okay? Tell me he’s okay.

Lesley said it was an abdominal wound, and no one was at the house except for Ari and Nash. I don’t know much beyond that. What did he tell you?

Barely able to control her breathing, Millie recounted their last phone call. That he and Reece fought. He was here… at the seawall… I told him to wait. I was coming to him. He’s not here, Andrew… he’s not here. I’m at the seawall. I begged him to wait for me.

Mills, come to Rivers. Andrew turned right from North Causeway onto Veteran’s Memorial Boulevard. If I-10 was down, 610 would be congested. And listen, go the back way. Detour signs for the interstate are up all over the place.

Andrew, please tell Nash I’m coming? Her voice trembled. Please?

I-I will, Millie. Of course, I will. As he ended their call, fresh tears filled his eyes. It was a new kind of pain, knowing his son and ex-wife were in love. Deeper still, because he was in love with her himself. But an even greater ache consumed Andrew and fueled his tears. Some of the last words he’d spoken to his son were in anger, and the knowledge he might never get the chance to make it right, tore through him like a jagged knife.

Please, God, let my boy be okay, Andrew prayed when he merged onto North Carrollton Avenue. Please… let Nash be okay.

Chapter 2

The chime of a cell phone startled Trenton Adams, but he answered on the first ring, certain his brother wouldn’t call after midnight without good reason. What is it, Gregory? Is Mama okay?

Mama’s fine. It’s Nash—he’s been shot. Lesley just called me. That’s all I know. Gregory paced underneath the awning of Rivers Emergency Room, awaiting the ambulance transporting his godson. I think Millie really might need you. I don’t know what’s going on.

Trent glanced at the clock. Ten thirty California time. If he left soon, he could catch the last flight out. Of course. I’ll be there in the morning. Thanks, brother. Keep in touch.

What’s wrong? Trent’s partner, Tristan, propped on his elbow and gently touched Trent’s arm.

Nash. He’s been shot.

Oh, God. Millie will be devastated.

Yeah. While I’m getting packed, can you call Doc Caissy? Trent asked, speaking of Millie’s adopted father. He’ll be able to get to her the quickest.

Of course, Tristan said, scrolling through his cell phone. What about Finn? The twenty-two-year-old son they shared with Millie would move hell and high water to be with his mother.

Yeah. Trent paused to say a quick prayer for Nash. Call him too.

---

Back at Rivers, Gregory waved to his longtime friend and Lesley’s partner, Sylvia Huff. Thanks for calling me. He jogged to meet her truck. Is Ari riding in the ambulance?

The police wouldn’t let her leave the house.

Are you serious? Certainly, they don’t think she shot him?

I don’t know. Lesley isn’t leaving her, though.

He took a deep breath. Should I—

No, Sylvia interrupted, as two of the four Douglas children ran toward them. No. You should be here with Andrew and the kids.

Sydney ran into Gregory’s open arms. Is Daddy here yet? Layton and I had a flat tire and Reece came to help us.

He hasn’t made it yet, Syd.

Hope they’re not stuck on the interstate, Reece said, arm around his girlfriend, Layton. An eighteen-wheeler lost its load on I-10.

That has to be why they’re not here.

Have you been inside? What’s dispatch saying? Sydney headed for the double doors, followed by Layton and Reece.

Just that they’d left about fifteen minutes ago. I’m sure the ambulance driver would have avoided I-10. Anxious, Gregory held a hand over his chest and tapped his fingers. Maybe we should go see. He glanced at Sylvia. Tell Andrew we are inside, okay?

Sure.

---

After he led Reece, Sydney, and