Wrecked Hearts: Miller's Pointe Romantic Suspense, #4

By Candice Jeneé

He wrecked both their hearts as teens. Now, he needs to keep her safe so they can have a future.

 

Bridgette has known mostly heartbreak in her life. From her parents to a lost love, and recent family friends. Somehow, her spirit hasn't been broken…yet. But, when she becomes the target of a serial killer who also kills someone she loves, that spirit falters.

 

Ralph Kinkaid has loved Bridgette since they were teens; but after destroying them both, he cut ties and moved on. Now that he's the detective stationed in Miller's Pointe, they can't avoid each other. When she becomes the target of the serial killer he's chasing, he can't deny their connection anymore.

 

Can they work together to stop the killer before he gets his end-game - Bridgette - and find a way to heal their hearts together?

 

***Content Advisory: This is a small town, second chance, enemies to lovers romance that also touches on/discusses themes of murder, hatred of women, along with grief and loss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Candice Jeneé
• Release date: Oct 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215088814

Candice Jeneé

Candice Jeneé is a retired LMFT, mom, business owner, author, and chronic illness warrior. She owns Soul Cadence Creative, a creative education and publishing business. She loves a good story, especially when romance and suspense collide. That’s why she writes what she loves.     Candice is the author of a handful of books, including the Miller’s Pointe Series and the devotional You’re Not Alone: Bible stories and prayers for pregnancy and early motherhood.  She’s a believer in rhythm over balance and fulfillment and creativity in motherhood and chronic illness.        Candice lives in WA with her husband, two littles, and their cat, Pumpkin Pie. (Ironically, Candice isn’t a fan of pumpkin pie the food.) She is a lover of elephants, the ocean, and rainy days.

Book preview

Wrecked Hearts

Miller’s Pointe Romantic Mystery & Suspense

Book 5

CANDICE JENEÉ

©️ Candice Jeneé

Soul Cadence Creative 2022

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, or any other circumstances is merely coincidence.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored for retrieval, or transmitted by any means without express permission of the author. Please address any inquiries to Candice Jeneé at Soul Cadence Creative.

Soul Cadence Creative

Everett, WA, 98201

www.candicejenee.com

Cover design: BY THE BROOKE DESIGNS

Content Advisory: This is a small town, second chance, enemies to lovers romance that also touches on/discusses themes of murder, hatred of women, along with grief and loss.

Prologue

BRIDGETTE

I was nine the first time my world fell apart. The first time I knew what tragedy was. The first time I learned the world doesn’t care about women like my mom and girls like me.

Women like me - like my mother - disappear, or worse, and people don’t bat an eye. Oh, others will tell you we blow it out of proportion. Yet even one native vanishing that goes unnoticed or forgotten is one too many. Reality is far grimmer than one. 

She was ripped away from me, and the eyes of the man who took her - along with those of his son - were burned into my head.

Then, when I was fifteen, my world shattered again. I lost the greatest man I’d ever known. Life is full of horrors, but those that attack the body from the inside sometimes seem to be the worst of them all. You have to watch someone who was once strong become weak. It’s haunting.

No one is ever supposed to need their god parents - guardian angels I call them - yet, I did.

These angels taught me good still existed in the world, and if you kept your heart open, you’d find that good. They showed that their God still loved even in the darkest days. They did so much work to help me repair my bitter, wounded heart.

But it was at seventeen that I fully recognized that a heart could be irreparably wrecked, never to be whole again.

Thats when I learned about masks, and how far a smile will take you when you have so much to hide. 

That’s how I became, me.

Chapter 1

BRIDGETTE

Hey, sexy momma, wanna come dance with me? The drunk guy slurred his words.

That was literally the last thing I wanted to do right now.

I ignored him and focused on the sparkling water in front of me. My friend had just left for the night with who knows who, leaving me alone in a place I normally wouldn’t go. But, I desperately needed a night out. 

Sucks having all these guys think they can just demand your attention, doesn’t it? A gravelly voice said from the stool next to me.

I turned to see a handsome face wearing a flirty smile. His eyes were vaguely familiar, cold and grey.

Ugh, I groaned internally. 

I could read guys like this a mile away. He thought relating to me would get points in his favor. The arrogance dripping off this guy made me nauseous and woozy. Too bad for him and every other guy in here tonight, there was only one man on my mind lately. And, I could never decide if I wanted to kiss that man or punch him when I saw him. Usually, a bit of both.

Sure does. But, I’m just finishing up my drink here and heading home, I said, and turned back to the bar. A wave of dizziness rushed over me from turning too quickly.

No dancing tonight? He asked.

Already did that. My friend just left. Oh, look at that, water’s all gone. Gotta go.

I stood up and a rush went to my head, which then started my pulse pounding. I started moving through the crowd toward the door. Slowly, the room started spinning and I felt more than a little funny. I stumbled, but Mr. Flirty Smile caught me by the elbow.

Woah, looks like you had a little too much, he said, as the room got blurry.

No, I just had water. I’m fine. Let me go, I said, and tried to pull away.

I was getting more unsteady, the room around me foggier. Suddenly, the music sounded like it was underwater - or maybe I was. I was aware of pressure on my arm as I fought to free myself.

This guy was dragging me somewhere, and something told me it wasn’t toward the front door or a safe ride home. I tried fighting, but the world was fading around me quickly now.

She said let her go, a voice I’d know anywhere, in any state of mind, said over the music of the club.

This isn’t your concern, man, back off, the other voice said, sounding much further away.

Actually, as an officer of the law, this is very much my business. Let her go or deal with me. I don’t play nice, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a cell with your name on it. Choice is yours, buddy.

My elbow was suddenly free, and I collapsed into strong male arms. Arms I hoped belonged to the good guy in all this. The hero who was actually the villain in my life story: Detective Ralph Kinkaid.

***

Mommy! Mommy don’t go!

I’m shouting and panicking. The devil man is dragging her away.

Deal with her, he spits out, and the boy comes for me. His eyes wide and wild. I’m going to die. We are going to die. 

I feel my throat closing from the outside in, as if a hand is around it, though no one is touching me.

Mommy! Don’t take her away! Mommy!

Somehow, I’m able to run, but the wild eyes of the man and boy are etched in my mind. I’m hiding now and keep screaming for mommy.

The marks on my neck match hers when they find her. 

Mommy, I’m scared. Mommy, come back, I plead…

Silence…

***

My head was killing me when the sun woke me the next day. The devil man and his son plagued my dreams again, causing added distress to the night before.

I groaned and opened my eyes, finding myself in my own bed. I took a minute to think through the last night and what I could remember. 

I remembered going with my friend to the club. I remembered her leaving. I remembered a guy calling to me from the dance floor. The rest was fuzzy, but a feeling of unease settled over me. 

I hated the way I felt; and since I hadn’t had a drink of alcohol since high school, I didn’t know how I got that way. 

A noise from the kitchen startled me, and I realized I wasn’t alone in my house. The uneasy feeling grew. Sitting up sent the world spinning, and looking down, I noticed I was still in my outfit from the night before. 

I got up and slowly moved toward the door. Grabbing a large book from the desk by my door, I eased the door open and started down the hallway. Raising the book above my head, I turned the corner into the kitchen area.

Mornin’, sweetheart, Kinkaid greeted me, a smirk on his face.

I dropped the book on the counter with a thud, sending his coffee sloshing above the rim of his mug.

The kitchen was a small galley with a large serving window to the living and dining area. The sun coming through the wide window on the back wall brightened up the light walls, making it far too bright for my taste this morning.

What are you doing in my kitchen?

Better question — what were you doing at that club last night? And with a guy like that? He asked, the smug grin disappearing.

What guy? I went there with a friend, and all I had was water. I wasn’t with a guy.

I thought hard, and vaguely recalled a guy sitting by me at the bar. A hazy cocky smile and grey eyes coming into view. Maybe that’s what he was talking about. Which still didn’t explain why I felt like I did or how we got here.

Someone spiked your drink last night. He paused to take a sip of his coffee. He was trying to haul you out the back when I stopped him. You were out before you ever hit my chest, sweetheart.

Okay, first of all, ew. Don’t call me sweetheart, I said, mock gagging as he poured me a cup of coffee. He added in the milk and sugar just like I liked it, and I hated that he knew that about me after all these years. And, I hated that my tastes had clearly not changed since I was seventeen. 

Sure thing, ma’am. What’s second? He grinned at me, the grin he knows I hate. Or love. Or love to hate? I don’t even know anymore.

Second, I don’t know, I deflated. I don’t remember any of that. I kind of remember a guy sitting next to me at the bar, but that’s it. I never left my drink. There’s no way anyone slipped anything in there.

Bridgette, his tone dropped.

Serious Kinkaid was worse than flirty Kinkaid. Serious Kinkaid was all business, but also showed he cared. It was the side of him I couldn’t easily defend against.

What?

You were either drunk or on something. I know you don’t drink, so it was something else. You could barely talk after you told him hands off. If I hand’t been there, I don’t even want to think about what would have happened.

I didn’t want to think about what would have happened either. He kept me safe, and I knew it. That was worth something, at least.

Well, thanks. I guess. I suppose you couldn’t arrest him or anything? I asked.

I had no proof he was the one who did it, so, no. I couldn’t. What I could do was get you safely home, tucked in your bed, and crash on that couch to make sure you were okay.

Well, I gestured down my body and did a slow spin, which still made me dizzy. I’m fine. You don’t have to stay.

Kinkaid looked at me, his eyes boring into mine.

I looked away, worried what he might find there. The unspoken words my heart had been screaming since the day I met him. The silence nearly swallowed me up right there.

Okay, I’ll go. He put his mug in the sink still half full and walked away. He made it to the door before turning to add, I know it’s too little too late, but if you ever need me. You call me. Got it?

Yeah, I managed to say past the lump in my throat. 

He tipped his head and disappeared out my door. I gripped the counter top to hold myself up, already wishing he was back in the kitchen next to me.

Chapter 2

KINKAID

Seeing that guy with his hands on Bridgette the night before made something in me snap. Thank God for the badge I carry that gave me leverage, because I’m not sure either of us would be walking free men today without it. 

I was frustrated with her, too, but none of this was her fault. She didn’t know the recent cases that had been crossing my desk. Young women over the last couple months, dead, and likely connected. Not even the press had many details, the departments working on it were keeping it close.

When she collapsed into me, our entire history came rushing back to me. Every stupid decision I’d made, and she still trusted me to protect and care for her. This morning’s conversation proved that.

I’d left her house to come to what would be the sheriff’s outpost on Miller’s Pointe. It was still under construction, and we were hoping to have it finished by the Security Office’s grand opening next month. Wood, dust, and noise filled the space for now. Each of us was volunteering time to help get it finished whenever we could.  

I tried to focus on the construction scene in front of me, but it wasn’t working. I hammered the same nail three times before Logan interrupted.

Something on your mind, Kinkaid?

A case I’m working on. And a woman.

There was no point in hiding it from Logan. We’d been partners in the early days