Heroes and Villains

By Stacey Johnston

Two lives entwined in secrets, secrets that threaten to tear them apart before they even begin…

Sophie Valentine was a girl living a privileged life in the tranquility of Solana Beach until she was forced to move to Brooklyn under questionable conditions. In a quiet Brooklyn neighborhood, Benjamin Sinclair was a troubled boy leading

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jul 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643456751

Stacey Johnston

Stacey Johnston resides in one of the southern suburbs of Perth, Western Australia, with her husband, four children, and a lovable Alaskan malamute called Storm. At one time or another, each of us has wished that our lives reflected those of the characters we read in books or watched on our television screens. As a child, Stacey was no different and found she could create stories in her head. Stories where her characters could come alive and she could escape when life around her became difficult. Leaving home at seventeen, she moved from family member to family member, trying to find her place. During those early years, alcohol became her closest friend, and her characters and stories in her head really started to blossom. It wasn’t until she met the man who would become the father to her oldest two children that she started to settle down. For the next twelve years, Stacey dedicated her life to her partner and their two beautiful children. Her stories were continuing to grow, but so was her desire to put them on paper and share them. Tragically, after losing her partner to a heart attack. her grip on reality started to slide, and it was during this time that her characters evolved. During her time of need, Stacey found a soul mate who would later become her husband and give her two more equally beautiful children. With his love, support, and encouragement, Stacey finally found the courage to put her characters and stories onto paper. Stacey’s hope is that other readers love her characters as much as she does. Her wish is that they get caught up in their stories, experiencing their joy and pain just as she has over the years.

Book preview

Chapter One

Sophie

For as long as I can remember, my family and I have called San Diego home—well, up until recently anyway.

Our house is located within walking distance of Solana Beach, and as you would expect, I’ve always spent a lot of my free time hanging out down there. My brother, Sean, and I have been fortunate enough to live a life most could only dream. It was a life where being privileged, as we were labeled, allowed you to pretty much do whatever you wanted. I say privileged because our mother is closely related to the three founding members of one of the biggest boy bands of the sixties.

How close, you ask?

They’re her older brothers.

I honestly don’t remember there ever being a time when my uncles and their families weren’t around. Most of my favorite childhood memories include them. Considering how famous they actually are, it amazes me how my mother managed to keep us out of the spotlight all these years. Thanks to my uncles, and our parents, Sean and I have never wanted for anything.

It’s only been recently that I’ve taken notice of just how close my mother has been with her brothers over the years. When you think about it, there’s so much we take for granted in our lives, things that we perceive as normal, and this was certainly one of them.

The only reason I started paying attention was because of the comments my friends had been making. They were envious of what I had and wished their families were as close as ours. Once again, this is something I’ve always taken for granted. I just assumed every family was the same as ours. After that, when I spent time around my friends and their families, I started noting the differences.

Regardless of schedules or work commitments, my father and uncles always maintained daily contact with my mother and, subsequently, Sean and me. As far as I’m aware, my uncles are the only family my mother has, so maybe that’s the reason they’re all so close.

There is something about my friend’s families that I’ve always envied in return, and that’s their relationships with their grandparents. I’ve always loved how alive their houses become when their grandparents are around. Over the years, both Sean and I have, at different times, asked about our own grandparents. Neither of us have ever met any at all. I know that my father’s parents died in a car crash before we were born, but my mother always gives me the same answer. She always tells us her parents are no longer around, but I’m not sure if that means they are dead or alive. She never elaborates and just shrugs her shoulders, saying our lives are much better off with them not in it.

There was this one day when she was obviously being a little more sentimental, where she admitted her relationship with her parents was not a loving one. Being an inquisitive child, I did ask her what she meant by that, only to be told that it was a story best left unspoken. She maintains her life is a fulfilling one, where she only surrounds herself with those she loves and those who are important to her. On more than one occasion, she has told me she sees no point in dwelling on the pain from the past.

I’ve never truly understood what she meant by that, which is why it amazes me just how laid-back she and my uncles really are. It’s hard to believe, considering we are given the impression the four of them have come from a troubled family. Personally, this isn’t something I chose to dwell on. I just love how cool they all are to hang around.

The one thing I love the most about my uncles is the impromptu jamming sessions they’re always springing on us, much to the disgust of Sean. Come to think of it, I don’t think that brother of mine has much of an interest in anything at all. Out of the two of us, he is generally more reserved and can be very secretive when he wants to be. There are times when he reminds me of our father because he’s very much like that as well.

About two years ago, I started questioning why Sean was spending weeks at a time away from home. If I’m being honest, I was jealous of the fact that I had to attend school and he didn’t. For about a year, I badgered him trying to get answers, but he would get defensive and shut me down. I eventually stopped annoying him when my mother asked me to. She’d given me her reassurance that there was a good reason behind it, so I left him alone.

Aside from his secretive side, Sean has an extreme case of OCD when it comes to tidiness. My friends used to think I was joking until they witnessed it for themselves, but it’s something you really need to see for yourself. Walking into his bedroom is like walking into a museum. It has that look-but-don’t-touch feel about it where everything has a place. Sometimes buttons need to be pushed, which is why I’ve made it my mission over the years to tease him over his freakish ways. In addition to all this, it was discovered that only one of us shared the same musical talents as my mother and her brothers. There has always been plenty of encouragement and training given to us over the years, but Sean, unfortunately, inherited nothing. That brother of mine can’t sing or play an instrument.

I, on the other hand, have a strong singing voice and have done since I started talking. I like to think I take my talent as seriously as my uncles do, and I know exactly what I’m going to do when I’m older. I’ve never understood, though, why my mother was never as successful as her brothers. That woman has such an angelic voice. The one memory that stands out is of her singing us to sleep when Sean and I were little.

Still, to this day, from time to time, we’ll catch her singing when she’s cooking or cleaning. I did ask her once why she wasn’t a performer as well, and all I received in return was that her dreams had already become a reality. She smiled at me, telling me she was content with how her life had turned out.

In her experience, there are two kinds of people in this world—those who thrive on the thrill of an adventure and those who are happier with the mundane. I never, in truth, understood what she meant. She was forever saying weird stuff like that, but as long as she was happy, I didn’t care.

My dreams are a little different from hers, and on a much grander scale. My favorite is the one where I’m standing on a stage, performing, just as my uncles have over the years—well, maybe a little more modern than them, but you get my drift. We’ve been lucky enough over the years to attend quite a few of their concerts. I love watching their faces and seeing the thrill they get by having thousands of people singing and dancing along with them. One day I’ll be me doing that, even though I know my father won’t approve.

My father has never thought very highly of what my uncles did, maintaining that it’d be over his dead body to see me selling myself like that. I don’t see what they do as them selling themselves, so I’ve never gotten his concern. They do make a lot of money out of the entertainment they provide, which we’ve had the good fortune of witnessing. Yet all I see is the enjoyment they get out of performing. I suppose the drugs and alcohol side of what they do may play some small part of my father’s mistrust, but we’ve never seen that side of their lives. A little trust in me wouldn’t go astray either. I am his daughter after all, and in all fairness to me, this shouldn’t be a concern for him, seeing as I’m not into the drug scene anyway.

I do, at times, wonder about my father, though, as he’s a very mysterious man. He is what my brother and I call our exception to the rule—the only one Sean and I aren’t particularly close to. We only feel this way due to the fact we don’t see a lot of him at all. From what I believe, the kind of work my father does has been deemed classified, although I don’t quite understand what that means. My mother has always stressed to us, especially when we’ve complained, that his work is very important. Mom says that it’s just safer for us not to know anything at all.

Don’t get me wrong, there have been times when I wondered what she meant by that, but in the end, I found it easier to turn a blind eye. I’ve always lived with the belief that Mom and Dad obviously know better than us.

Until now…

As of today, it appears our lives are about to change. All Sean and I were told is something happened concerning my father’s work, and we now need to move to Brooklyn.

Why Brooklyn? Well, your guess is as good as mine, and I certainly have no idea. The question I wanted to ask, but didn’t, was what would possess a man to uproot his whole family so quickly? I should also probably add, he is doing this without any resistance at all.

From what we’ve been told, our relocation will be to an apartment building in a dingy neighborhood located somewhere in central Brooklyn. I’ve made it perfectly clear I’m not happy about having to leave my friends and family, although it didn’t even rate as a concern for my father. Regardless of all my objections, we’ll be leaving within the week. To make the whole situation harder to comprehend, my father and Hawke will be leaving us as soon as our move is complete.

If I haven’t mentioned him before, Hawke is what I suppose you could call my father’s most trusted colleague. I call him my father’s best friend because he’s been around our family for as long as I can remember. I think they’ve worked together for a long time, or that’s the impression my mother has given me. It’s funny, though, because over the years, my friends have made comments on how creepy Hawke’s presence has been. I’ve never genuinely paid any attention. As I’ve mentioned before, he’s always just been there. What’s even funnier are the ridiculous suggestions my friends and I would come up with for the work Hawke and my father did. They spent a lot of time together, which had us suggesting that maybe they were strippers or government spies.

Regardless of what they do, when our move is complete, my father and Hawke will be stranding us in a strange place with no friends. You’d think that we should’ve been able to ask questions about what’s going on, but that’s where you’d be wrong. I can’t say I’ve ever been game enough to challenge my father in the past, so there’s no way I’m planning to start now. Sadly, once we get there, I’ll only have my mom and brother to depend on.

Over the years, and I feel guilt for how I feel, whenever my father is near, there’s a vibe that just doesn’t always feel right. More like there was something about him that, at times, frightens me, only I can’t say exactly what it is.

This something isn’t anything I can easily put into words. Not to be misunderstood, I’m not saying that he’s ever hurt me—well, no more than his hand across my ass when I was younger. However, he gives off a vibe that would lead you to believe he is capable of so much more. I’ve never wanted to see if that was true, so I’ve never pushed him.

If I were you, I wouldn’t read too much into my ramblings. I’m just a kid being forced to do something I don’t want to, throwing out my thoughts. My father is actually a very loving man toward both my brother and me. I may be overthinking this, but he also gives me the impression he can be a very dangerous man as well.

Well, the day has finally come. It’s moving day, and thanks to my brother’s nonstop grumbling, it’s been nothing but a nightmare. Sean’s fricking complaining started as soon as we left Solana Beach early this morning. He’s been grating on my nerves all day, making my head ache. If he keeps it up, I’ll leave him to finish unpacking the last of these boxes by himself. Apparently, Dad and Hawke had more pressing matters to deal with, so Sean and I have spent the better part of the afternoon moving boxes up to our new apartment. It’s no surprise we’re doing this all by ourselves, mind you, and what kind of excuse is that? I mean, really!

It’s definitely time for me to take a breather because, frankly, I’m fricking exhausted. Coming to a stop, I notice, out of the corner of my eye, a group of boys hanging around the bottom step of our new apartment building. Parking myself by the side of the truck we hauled our shit up in, I divert my attention back to those boys on the step.

Whoa! What a sight! Now don’t get me wrong, there was never a shortage of gorgeous boys back home, and you didn’t have to look far to find them either. These four boys, though, that I’m quite openly perving at, are the kind of gorgeous that astounds you. There’s no need for me to exaggerate. It’s something I believe they could do without even trying.

When Sean comes back down, I point them out to him. Grunting, he tells me that every time we’ve walked back outside, they have glanced up at us. If they keep that up, I will no doubt lose my shit with them. After helping Sean with a couple of table chairs, I find myself taking more notice of their actions as we pass by.

Okay, now it’s bugging me.

Do you lot seriously have nothing better to do with your time than sit there gawking at us? I yell, coming to a stop by the bottom step.

When one of them stands and turns toward me, I feel like I’m twelve years old again. Surely you understand what I’m talking about. Now that we are face-to-face, I feel like a teenage girl fawning over her high-school crush, and all because this one standing before me has me mesmerized.

Without any recognition of actually having moved at all, I suddenly find myself standing on the second last step, staring straight into the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever encountered. With my hands on my hips, my hair plastered to my face, and my clothing dirty from all the crap I’ve been moving today, I must look a sight.

What’s it to you anyway? a smart mouthed Blue Eyes asks.

Wow, did his eyes just twinkle when he spoke? Yep! Fricking oath, they did!

This really isn’t what I need right now. The last thing I need today is another smart-ass person irritating me. Sean has already done a good enough job of that already.

Without being able to stop myself, I angrily reply, "What do you mean, ‘what’s it to you’? Are you enjoying watching a poor, helpless girl lug heavy boxes and furniture up these steps by herself?"

Mr. Blue Eyes, as I insist on calling him, takes one look at me and laughs aloud. Looking me up and down, he drawls, There is nothing poor and helpless about you, sweetheart. There is, in fact, two of you moving that stuff.

Before he even finishes speaking, I can feel the heat in my cheeks building. I’ve no doubt my face has turned the color of beetroot. If I don’t leave, my mouth will get the better of me, so without responding, I turn, stomping back up the steps. Cursing under my breath, I get halfway up when I hear, Hold up there, darling, where do you think you’re going?

Stopping, turning back around, I see all four of those boys are now standing, staring at me with panty-dropping smirks on their faces.

"What’s with you calling me darling? You halfwit!" I quickly bite back.

Harsh words for such an adorable little girl, one of the others replies.

Fricking hell! What is it with these boys? There is something about each of them that makes them stand out. Unfortunately, for him, the smirk on his face is doing nothing more than aggravating me.

Do I look like a little girl to you? I hiss in return, giving him what I hope is my nastiest stare.

Suddenly, bored of their stirring, I yell back to them, You know what? If I can’t guilt you lot into helping us, how about you all just leave us the hell alone.

All four boys laugh once more, moving a little closer toward me.

I definitely wouldn’t call you little, Blue Eyes teases, looking me up and down suggestively as he walks toward our moving truck with the others. And all you had to do was ask, sweet one, he continues.

Winking, he gives me a look that makes my knees weaken, forcing me to grip the railing behind me to steady myself. For a short moment, he has me rendered speechless, which almost never happens to me.

Come to think about it, with a voice like his, you’d have to wonder if there is anyone who could refuse him. Surely, there are more than a couple of girls around who wouldn’t think twice about dropping their panties for just a few short minutes of his time. Obviously, they’d be hoping for more than a few minutes, but you get my point.

The sight of him even has me thinking wicked thoughts—thoughts I know I shouldn’t be having right now. Ones that have me on my knees, with him standing in front of me. I can vividly picture it. His shorts are hanging down around his ankles, with my fingers sitting just slightly underneath the rim of his underwear, ready to pull them down, right where the V…

Are you coming? he whispers softly, passing by. We have no idea where we are taking this stuff.

And just like that, the daydream has been broken. From the look on his face and the quiet chuckle I can hear, I would say he was well aware of where my thoughts were heading. Shaking off the blush that quickly rises up my neck, I force a smile and lead them up toward our apartment.

I was grateful that the rest of the afternoon flew past relatively drama-free. During that time, we learned that that blue-eyed boy’s name was Ben and that the other three were Luke, Kyle, and Stephen. Those four boys, along with Sean and me, made fast work of emptying that truck. I guess what surprised me the most was how well we all got along. I was convinced that was a good sign that all my fears of starting at a new school would be for no reason.

Well, about that…

It seems I couldn’t have been more wrong about our new school if I tried, or maybe it’s our choice of new friends I was wrong about. After overhearing a group of kids by the front gate, I quickly learned that our new friends weren’t as popular as I’d believed. I seriously don’t understand how this could be true. Honestly, I don’t get it at all.

What I’m struggling to comprehend is how four extremely good-looking boys like these four are not popular at all. The more we watch, the more we observe the kinds of smaller groups these kids move around in.

Okay, so I don’t dispute that this, in itself, isn’t out of the ordinary. It would later be confirmed that your status in this school was dependent on where you lived. As luck would have it, Sean and I could expect to be labeled unfavorably as well. I suppose it’s expected, seeing we live in the same poor dingy apartment block as our new friends do.

I don’t get it, Sean whispers to me, breaking me from my thoughts. How is it we go from being top of the food chain at Canyon Crest, and then we arrive here to be at the bottom of the shit heap?

Just lucky, I guess, I grumble.

After arriving at school, our plan was to meet up with Ben’s group near the administration building. As soon as we reached our destination, we stopped and waited. It was obvious the pair of us stood out like a sore thumb. Observing the kids who were walking past us, I noticed that we should’ve done some serious research on what the fashion here is like. I can do nothing more than cringe when a group of girls pass by us, and I hear the snide remarks filter from their mouths. I was seriously considering doing a runner to head back home until I heard Ben and the others coming up behind us.

Don’t pay any attention to them, sweet one. Their bark is worse than their bite, Ben whispers loudly in my ear, startling me for a moment because I thought they were farther away.

"I’m sure I’ll eventually get used to it, and stop calling me sweet one already. I’m not a fricking lollipop, Ben," I reply nervously.

Now standing directly behind me, he slings one of his arms around the small of my back until his hand comes to rest on my stomach.

Oh my fricking god. The things this boy has stirred up inside me is not anything I can easily explain. He’s managed to quicken my breathing, weaken my legs, and make my heart beat faster without any real effort.

Quietly chuckling, he moves his mouth closer to my ear