News from the Front

By Jade C. Jamison

Nicki’s a little older and wiser—so why isn’t she happier?

Nicki’s life continues going through upheaval but she’s determined to make it work, just as she’s vowed to report everything she discovers, whether the citizens of Winchester want to know the truth or not. And, like a dog with a bone, she can’t help but continue to pursue realtor-turned-politician Gina McCafferty as the woman persists in making her play for Winchester's open City Council seat. But Nicki is learning over and over again that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to her fair city. As she delivers the news from the front in the battleground of the town of Winchester, she senses she might be uncovering the pawns in a deadly game.

Alliances are tested. Lines are drawn. And events are set in motion that will play out in deadly ways...

PLEASE NOTE: This book was previously published in 2016 as LIES.

Trigger warning: This book contains subject matter that may be disturbing for some readers. Due to language and content, this book is recommended for readers 18 and older.

The Nicki Sosebee Stories are an interconnected series and should be read in order for maximum spoiler-free enjoyment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jade C. Jamison
• Release date: Dec 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005104252

Jade C. Jamison

1. Imagine 2. Play some music 3. Write 4. Blow readers away 5. RepeatJade C. Jamison is a steamy romance author, heavy metal fangirl, wife and mom, coffee connoisseur, cat lover, and vegan foodie--not necessarily in that order. She loves life and believes we learn our wisest lessons when reading, especially if it's fiction. Her heroines are fierce, her heroes all but broken, both seeking redemption together. Whether in a small Colorado town or big city, she strives to take her readers' breath away...one story at a time.Find out more at www.jadecjamison.com ORhttp://www.subscribepage.com/JadeCJamison (newsletter)

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Thirty-one. Happy fucking birthday.

This would go on record as Nicki Sosebee’s Worst. Birthday. Ever.

Nicki wasn’t usually the kind to mope but, by God, she was going to allow herself to do it tonight, because it was the first night in forever when she’d felt almost friendless. Sure, her parents had called her two days before and wished her a happy day in advance, but they were on a cruise ship somewhere in the Bahamas without phone service. Her brother Will had called that morning, but even though he was technically on vacation from school, he was prepping for his hairiest semester ever. In just a couple of weeks, he would be teaching two classes while working on his PhD in some kind of Economics—but Nicki was willing to cut her little bro a bit of slack. In fact, his phone call had been the highlight of her day.

Hey, sis. Happy b-day. You’re getting kind of old.

Thanks. You’re not a spring chicken yourself.

Yeah, but at least I’m still in my twenties. She knew he was only saying that because he knew turning the big three-oh last year had bothered Nicki. Sorry I’m not there, sis. Since mom and dad are gone, I’d feel kinda funny staying in the house without them.

I know what you mean. I don’t even have a key to the house anymore. But you might feel even weirder. Your room’s just like you left it years ago.

Well, yeah, it might feel like the good ol’ days—but the main reason I’m not coming home is I’m prepping for the classes I’m teaching next semester.

Yeah? New stuff?

Nah. Not really. Just more intense.

And Maija? She might have a little to do with it?

Will chuckled. Maybe. She can’t get off work right now. Tourist season, you know. So I’d have to leave her behind.

No worries, baby bro. Give her a hug from me.

Will do.

I’ll get to finally meet her at Christmas?

Promise. Will and Maija had moved in together over the summer, and that told Nicki her brother’s relationship had grown very serious. Hell, he’d been dating Maija for at least a year, far longer than most of Nicki’s relationships managed to stay together.

But that was why Nicki was drinking tonight. She didn’t want to fucking think about it.

After slamming her current shot of tequila, she followed it with a little salt and lime and then stared at the mug of beer. She was trying not to wallow, but she couldn’t help it. Just when she needed her friends the most, she felt abandoned. Brandy and Kevin were on vacation, and Brandy was officially off the pill so the two of them could begin earnest efforts at procreation. Still, at least, Brandy had taken a few moments that afternoon to call and chat. Nicky-chicky. How’s the birthday girl?

She’d wanted to spew bile and tell Brandy life sucked. She was in the middle of writing some lame feature about a quilter in Winchester, an assignment her boss, editor Neal Black, had given her. Yes, a story about a woman who quilted. Must’ve been a slow fucking news day. Nicki was doing her best to write an interesting article, but yikes. Brandy’s interruption had been welcome. Still, Nicki didn’t want to whine and complain on the phone the entire time. I’m fine.

See? I told you thirty-one wouldn’t be worse than thirty.

Oh. That was a hell of a consolation. Meanwhile, Brandy had to wrap it up because she and hubby were enjoying the beach but ready to head to brunch to enjoy some local Hawaiian cuisine.

Nicki’s other bestie, Jillian, was in the midst of domestic drama. Nicki figured the woman was either too busy or just forgot.

That didn’t make her feel any better.

Truthfully, though, Jilly had been a bit of a train wreck the past few months and Nicki was better off not getting involved in anything domestic.

It still didn’t make her feel any better.

Ah. Finally. The shots were starting to kick in. Nicki could feel her head swimming a little bit, lightening her tumultuous thoughts. A stupid mistake she’d made today was choosing to drink at the little bar at Napoli Pizzeria, her other place of employment. First off, the Days didn’t deserve to have her dump her hard-earned cash back into this place. Napoli for years had been beloved by Nicki—not to mention at least half the town of Winchester—for its awesome food and stellar customer service, but ever since being bought by the current dipshits running the joint, it had been flying downhill at a rate of speed so fast, it was a blur.

But when she’d first decided to drink at Napoli, she figured she would at least be surrounded by friends—or, actually, friend-like people.

Okay, familiar people.

And, on her birthday, that was what she really needed. Actually, she probably needed something new, but that hadn’t been working out so well lately, either—at least, not like it used to.

Honestly, she was here because she knew she needed to be in public. If she was surrounded by lots of people, she wouldn’t start crying from her broken fucking heart.

And there went one tear. Goddammit. She wasn’t going to do this.

Hey, JD. I need another shot down here, please.

You got it, princess. The new bartender at Napoli wasn’t going to last long; that much, Nicki knew. He was really good and friendly and charming to boot, and he could sure as shit make better money somewhere else. Two years ago, he would have been the cherry on top, but Napoli’s sundae had long since melted.

In seconds, JD appeared in front of Nicki with the bottle of Jose Cuervo and filled her shot glass back up. This one’s on the house, birthday girl.

You sure Napoli can afford it?

He flashed shiny white teeth inside the perfect smile. The guy was certainly easy on the eyes—wavy brown longish hair, blue eyes, unshaven face (not quite a beard), and tattoos on his arms.

Nope. No way in hell. He reminded her too much of Sean.

Fuck Napoli. Every girl should get a shot on the house on her birthday. Let ‘em fire me if they want. She gave him a grin while he fetched a wedge of lime from under the bar. Maybe I’m buying this one myself. Ever think of that?

After Nicki slammed the shot, there was no way she was going to answer before chasing it with lime. She denied her shoulders the shudder they wanted to give into and forced her lips into a half smile. "Maybe you should say that if it’s true."

JD smiled wide then. You’ll just have to wonder, girl. With a wink, he sauntered down the bar to tend to two women who’d just sat down. And Nicki was no idiot—those girls weren’t there for the drinks or even the atmosphere. Most people who drank at Napoli were there for the food first. Every once in a while, they’d get couples in the bar for wine. Back in the day, when they were packed with customers from wall to wall, people would actually dine at the bar.

But those days were long past.

These two women, though—they’d discovered cute, sexy JD, and Nicki knew, sure as hell, that they were there to see him, not to experience his killer bartending skills.

Not that he wasn’t good. He did mix a mean Cosmopolitan.

That was perfect, though, because she’d sensed interest coming from JD and, really, she knew sex with him would be out of the question—and not just because she worked with him, because that had never stopped her before.

No. God, no. She squeezed her eyes shut before more tears leaked out.

As she opened them, though, she saw JD again. He’d already served the young ladies at the other end and was back with her. Stupid man. Couldn’t see an invitation even when it was lined in gold. Penny for your thoughts, Nicki.

Grinding her jaw together, she hoped to bury the emotion before she answered. You don’t want to hear my thoughts, JD.

He cocked an eyebrow. Try me.

If he’d thought she was there for his particular sexy ways of bartending, he was mistaken, and it was best to let him know right now. They’re depressing as hell.

He was undeterred. Of course, they are. That’s why you’re drinking alone—on your damn birthday. And that’s why I’m telling you to let it all out. I’m a hell of a listener and what you tell me will go no further than right here, he said, punctuating the last few words with his finger tapping the polished wood. As if she needed more convincing, he nodded his head toward the end of the bar where the two girls sat chattering. "They don’t need me to listen, so shoot."

The look in his eyes was so sincere, so inviting. How the hell could she say no?

She couldn’t. How much time you got?

As much time as you need.

Where to begin? Maybe at the beginning of summer, when she’d known things just weren’t working out…

When her phone flashed, Nicki looked down to find that she’d received a text from Sean that said Happy birthday. No babe, no Nicki—but at least he’d remembered the day and had the decency to say something. She couldn’t text him back, though, not right now. She couldn’t be trusted.

And she was, frankly, surprised that he’d texted her.

She took a deep breath, now encouraged to talk. That guy? she said to JD, pointing to her phone. "That guy was the guy I’d wanted for years. We finally hooked up earlier in the year."

So what’s the problem? Why isn’t he here with you on your birthday?

‘Cause he’s not my boyfriend anymore.

Why? What happened?

God, it’s a long story. You really don’t want to hear it.

I do. And you know what? Most stories are only as long as we need them to be. Nicki cocked an eyebrow. She was starting to feel light and floaty—close to full-on drunk—but, even so, that sounded like a load of horseshit to her. "Don’t you also report for the Tribune, Nicki? That tells me you can tell a concise story when you need to."

She grimaced. No, that’s what my editor’s for. Glancing down at the beer she’d hardly touched, she twirled the mug in her hand. It’s not that we weren’t compatible, you know? He really felt like the perfect guy for me, but… She hesitated, not knowing how much detail JD would care to hear—and she didn’t know how much she wanted to give. She took a swig of her beer, trying to logically analyze it, but she was too far gone.

What’d he do?

It sounds so stupid now… One more swig of beer and then, when she saw how low the mug was, she polished it off before continuing. "And I probably have no right even saying it right here, right now, but I suspect my ex is a bit of an alcoholic. Looking back, the signs are all there. He has one or two drinks every night, but I didn’t think much about it at the time. Now, after living with him for half a year, I know the man drinks way too much. You’d never know, because he doesn’t have a beer belly, and he never—I mean never—seems like he’s under the influence at all. JD smiled and Nicki said, Not a word about my present condition."

I would never dream of it. Clearing his throat, he added, Would you like another beer?

Yeah, that’d be better than a shot. I should slow down. While JD poured her another beer from the tap, she continued. "Sometimes he would drink more than others, but not a day went by that he didn’t drink. That, by itself, might have been okay. But something I’d never known until I moved in with him is that he has these mood swings. Pretty severe. And being there, I disrupted his usual routine. He couldn’t mope around the house or whatever it was he did before. Now I was there and he felt like he couldn’t be himself, couldn’t let it out. See, Sean’s a bit of a control freak, and he wants to always look like he has his shit together—and he usually does. But once in a while, it’ll explode, kind of like how the pressure builds and builds in a volcano and eventually erupts, spewing shit everywhere. I’ve seen him break a wall with his bare fist, for God’s sake. But, instead, he takes these little trips—weekend trips—or I should say did. Just to get away from me or whatever."

"I can’t imagine he’d do it just to get away from you, Nicki."

"No, but that’s what it felt like. And then, on the heels of another run off to the hills in the middle of July, he tells me he’s going to Sturgis with his biker buddy Travis. That was the first I’d heard about it—out of the blue. Sorry, maybe I’m not supposed to feel like it’s not me, but that’s how it felt.

So I moved out.

Just like that?

Just like that. He was getting to be a little scary. But she loved him. Oh, God, she still loved him so badly. She sighed, forcing back another tear. And why, exactly, was she telling all this to JD? "I’ve been okay for a couple of weeks, you know? Trying to be strong, believing that we can maybe work things out. But, God, I’m stupid."

It’s not stupid to believe in love, Nicki.

"No, it’s not that. I was, uh, feeling a little sorry for myself earlier today. Turning older and no one around to make me feel like having a birthday was a good thing, you know? So I logged onto Facebook—I’m never on there, so why I thought it would be a good idea today, I’ll never know. But I got on there, because I know tons of people wish you happy birthday—people you hardly ever talk to otherwise—and I thought it might cheer me up."

Shit. There went a tear. It did at first. I got some really sweet birthday wishes and greetings from a lot of awesome people, friends I hadn’t seen in ages. Some old high school and college friends posted on my wall, cousins, old coworkers, even an ex-boyfriend. Yeah, Jesse, no longer able to reach Nicki via text, had actually bothered to wish her a happy day, even though he had to know she’d been ignoring him intentionally for months. And that was all he’d said, in spite of the fact that he also had to know that she and Sean were officially quitsville. "And it was really nice telling them thank you and asking how they’ve been.

But I made one fatal mistake. JD raised his lovely brown eyebrows, his lips almost curled in a smirk that was almost irresistibly sexy. She continued. I checked out my newsfeed.

Uh-oh.

Yeah. She frowned as she felt her body trying to force another wave of tears on her. Sean, my… She stopped herself from calling him her boyfriend, although it had almost flown out of her mouth. "My ex had popped in on Facebook sometime today. He hadn’t bothered wishing me happy birthday then, but he had plenty of time to post pics of him and his biker buddies having a good time." No way was she also going to divulge how upset she’d been at the sight of Sean and his friends surrounded by big-busted leather-clad biker blondes.

I’m sorry to hear that.

Thanks. It felt like…almost like he didn’t care about me as much as I do him.

I doubt that’s true.

Well, he had no way of knowing, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway.

Trust me. I’m a guy.

Oh, shit. She was drunker than she thought. She’d said the thing about appreciating the sentiment out loud. Shit. And she’d said waaaay too much already.

Nicki, you really shouldn’t be alone tonight. Not like this. Reaching out, JD touched her on the cheek, wiping away the stray tear with his thumb. After a few seconds, he said, I’m gonna get you some water, okay?

She nodded…and then gave him serious thought. JD really was a nice guy and he was definitely drool worthy—there was no doubt there. And she wasn’t concerned about what a one-night stand would do to their relationship. There were plenty of guys who’d been half-friends she’d fucked in the past, and they’d managed to stay friendly.

Nope, that wasn’t her worry at all.

Instead, she now knew it wouldn’t do any good. Like she had the very first time nine years ago—on the occasion that she’d always referred to as The Night That Must Never Be Mentioned Again—she’d decided to fuck away her misery, to distance herself from Sean, to put some good times to help heal the wounds in between their relationship and whatever else would come next.

But it wasn’t working anymore. Not the hot guy with the tribal tattoo on his forearm at the tire shop who’d repaired her flat; not the guy with long hair and a pierced eyebrow who’d been getting a V-8 at the On The Go convenience store when Nicki had been grabbing a Diet Coke; not the martial arts instructor who’d been teaching the free introductory class she’d attended late last week.

One-night stands were no longer fucking working. The pain was too deep.

So, yeah, she considered JD, thinking that maybe he would be the exception. They were friends, so the likelihood of it being an amazing time was higher. But if it turned out like all the other times over the past few weeks, it would be a waste of time. Every damn time, she couldn’t help but think of Sean before, during, and after, and a sad, mopey partner doesn’t make