Absolution_A Chastity Falls Spin-Off Novel Read online

  A CHASTITY FALLS SPIN-OFF NOVEL

  l. a. cotton

  Published by Delesty Books

  eBook edition

  Copyright © L. A. Cotton 2018

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  If you are reading a copy of this book that has not been purchased from a licensed retailer please destroy it. Thank you for your support.

  Edited by Jenny Carlsrud Sims of Editing4Indies

  Cover Designed by Lianne Cotton

  Images licensed from Shutterstock and Deposit Photo

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By L. A. Cotton

  Absolution (Chastity Falls, #5)

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4. Cassie

  5. Dennis

  6. Cassie

  8. Dennis

  9. Cassie

  10. Dennis

  11. Cassie

  12. Dennis

  13. Cassie

  14. Dennis

  15. Cassie

  16. Dennis

  17. Cassie

  18. Dennis

  19. Cassie

  20. Dennis

  21. Cassie

  22. Dennis

  23. Cassie

  24. Dennis

  25. Cassie

  26. Dennis

  27. Cassie

  28. Dennis

  29. Cassie

  30. Dennis

  31. Cassie

  32. Dennis

  33. Cassie

  34. Dennis

  Epilogue

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  Also By L. A. Cotton

  Other Titles

  Wicked Bay Series

  Wicked Beginnings

  Wicked Rules

  Wicked Lies

  Liar Liar Series

  Liar Liar

  Truth or Dare

  Chastity Falls Series

  Loyalty and Lies

  Salvation and Secrets

  Tribulation and Truths

  Redemption and Regrets

  Penance and Promises

  Affliction: A Chastity Falls Spin-off Novella

  Absolution: A Chastity Falls Spin-off Novel

  Fate’s Love Series

  Fate’s Love

  Love’s Spark

  Love Collides

  Standalones

  Lucky Penny

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  L A’s newsletter HERE

  Dedication

  To Lucy, Sam, Ewelina and Lorena.

  My original Jacksonsettes.

  This is for you!

  1.

  “What took you so long?” His voice filtered through the house, and I released a weary sigh. I’d been headed straight to my place after traveling back from Tampa, but my old man called and said it was urgent, so like the dutiful son I was, I obliged.

  “I just got back.” I entered the kitchen, taking in the mess. Empty food containers, dirty dishes stacked high in the sink, and half-drunk beers everywhere. “Couldn’t it wait? I need a shower and some sleep.”

  He pushed away from the table, the chair scraping against the faded linoleum, and cleared his throat. “We got the green light. I need you and Brett in Redmont today.”

  “Today?” I scrubbed a hand down my face. The last thing I wanted right now was another road trip. Least of all to a deadbeat town like Redmont.

  “I told you it was happening, son. This is a big fucking deal for us. For this family. Maybe you should have thought about that before you went running off to Jackson Pierce like his little lapdo—”

  “Don’t.” The muscle in my jaw tensed as I ground out the word, and my old man growled, clenching his fist.

  “Don’t? Don’t what?”

  He was a mess. Probably still drunk or suffering from yesterday’s hangover. Miller Hayes, my father. A man I barely recognized these days. Unwilling to get into it with him, I changed the subject. “Does Brett know the deal?”

  “Of course, he knows the fucking deal. He’s here when I need him unlike my own sorry excuse for a son.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Excuse me?” His hardened mask slipped, just for a second, before his eyes burned with rage. “You want to say that again, boy?”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes shuttering. It would be so easy to put him on his sorry ass, but I wouldn’t. One of us needed to remain calm and that job always landed on my shoulders.

  Opening my eyes, I narrowed them on his scruffy face. “You heard me, old man.”

  His eyebrow arched, the air crackling as our eyes fixed on each other. Sharp. Assessing. But then he barked out a gruff laugh. “Get out of here and don’t come back until the deal’s done. Hernandez might think he’s running this show, but I want Redmont. Take backup if you think you need it.”

  Despite the irritation burning through me, I kept my cool, nodding tightly. But as I turned to leave, he added, “Dennis ...”

  I glanced over my shoulder and met his severe glare. “Don’t let me down, son. I’m counting on you.”

  Another nod and I got the hell out of there.

  Inside my truck, I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes. It had been an intense few days. What I really wanted was a hot shower and some shut-eye. But even my cell phone wouldn’t allow me two minutes of peace, as it started vibrating. I dug it out of my pocket and barked into the mouthpiece. “Yeah?”

  “Just checking you made it back in one piece.” The sound of my best friend’s voice filled my chest with something I didn’t want to acknowledge. When he called and needed my help, I didn’t give it a second thought. Sharing the same DNA didn’t always define family; sometimes, the bonds of loyalty and respect defined it.

  “I’m good. Shouldn’t you be with Ana and Emma?” His wife, Ana, had given birth a few days ago.

  “They’re fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Ana said—”

  “What did Ana say?” I sat a little straighter, and Jackson laughed.

  “Nothing, man. Forget it.” There was a heavy pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was choked. “Thanks, Dennis, for everything. I owe you my life. If you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I mean it.”

  “I know.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Now was not the time to be rehashing pointless conversations. I needed my head in the game. “Go be with your family,” I said. “Give Ana my love.”

  We said goodbye and hung up, and I sat there, staring at the house I’d grown up in. Steeped in darkness and despair, it held no happy memories for me.

  Jackson had escaped this life. He was far, far away from his past, his demons, and his mistakes, but I wasn’t so lucky. There was no way out for me.

  This was my life.

  And there wasn’t shit I could do about it.

  “WELL, WELL, THE PRODIGAL son returns.” Brett cracked a toothy grin, and I shouldered past him to my truck.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Ooh, touchy. Guess the old man wasn’t too impressed you up and left in the middle of this shit with Hernandez.”

  “Like you don’t already know.” I gripped the door handle and shot him a questioning glare before
ducking inside.

  The passenger door swung open, and he climbed up into the cab. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, Brett. It means nothing.” I relented. The guy might have been my cousin, but our relationship was tenuous at best. He was too eager, too willing to follow orders without question. More than ready to get his hands dirty for the sake of family.

  But I’d learned a long time ago that family wasn’t always worth it.

  “You need to get laid. You’re too tense, man.” Amusement laced his words, and I grunted a response. That was the last thing I needed. My old man and I didn’t see eye to eye on most things, but if he’d taught me one thing, it was that women weren’t cut out for this life.

  A lesson we’d both learned the hard way.

  “This isn’t a vacation, so don’t get any ideas. He doesn’t want us fucking this up, okay?” Not that I had any intention of screwing around. That was Brett’s MO.

  The engine roared to life, and I pulled out of the driveway. I hadn’t been back in Stonewood for a day, and I was already leaving again. Maybe I should have taken Jackson and Ana up on their offer to move out to Tampa with them.

  Who the fuck was I kidding?

  I couldn’t leave. It would kill the old bastard. I was all he had left. Besides, even if I had the balls to up and leave, I couldn’t do it.

  I’d made a promise.

  We rode to Redmont in thick silence. Brett liked to talk; me ... not so much. I preferred the quiet. By the time I turned off the highway, the sun had just started to disappear over the tree line of Mendocino National Forest.

  “I need a cold beer.” Brett stretched his arms out on a long groan.

  “Business first, remember?” I eyed him sideways. One beer always turned into two with Brett. Then three. And before you knew it, you were hauling his drunk ass home or catching him balls deep in some chick who was foolish enough to fall for his charm.

  “Ease up.” He chuckled. “We might as well enjoy the sights, if you know what I mean.”

  “After we’ve met with Hernandez.” I took the turn for Bellezas and pulled in the parking lot, dust spraying up around the tires.

  “I forgot what a shithole this place was,” he grumbled as he nudged open the door and slid out. I followed, checking my cell phone for reception and battery when something caught my eye.

  “What the fuck is that?” I grabbed Brett’s arm and yanked him back. He shoved me off, guilt flashing in his eyes.

  “It’s called protection; you should think about getting some.” He raised his eyebrow as he straightened his jacket to conceal the gun shoved into the waistband of his jeans.

  “Motherfu—”

  “It was Uncle Miller’s idea.”

  “Of course, it was,” I grumbled, rubbing my temples. Trying to ease the storm in my chest. I’d done a lot of shady shit in the name of family, but I always drew the line at packing heat. And so far, there had been no problem or threat that my words or fists couldn’t solve. “Keep that thing out of sight. I don’t want any bullshit, okay?”

  “Got it.” Brett nodded, and we made our way to the door where a hulk of a guy eyed us suspiciously.

  “Is Hernandez around?” I asked, pulling myself to my full height while maintaining eye contact.

  “Who’s asking?” He matched my stance, folding his thick arms over his chest, muscles bulging out of his tight t-shirt.

  “Tell him Dennis Hayes is here.”

  Recognition flared in his eyes, and he nodded before slipping inside. Brett shifted on the balls of his feet beside me, humming some song out of tune.

  “Will you quit it?” I hissed, every inch of my body radiating exhaustion.

  “Seriously, you need some pus—”

  “He’s expecting you.” The guy reappeared and thumbed us inside. I immediately went on high alert, my senses sharpening as my eyes strained against the low lighting and cloud of smoke hanging in the air.

  “Looks like we got here just in time.” Brett clapped me on the back, his eyes wide and hungry as he stared at the half-naked girl strung around the pole.

  “Not my style,” I said, barely giving her a second glance. I’d been there, seen that, and didn’t bother getting the t-shirt. There was something about not having to work for something that didn’t make it seem worth it.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were ga—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned, moving farther into the bar. It was quiet, but when men started to get off their shifts at the local factory in a couple of hours, it’d fill up. Bellezas was a lost soul’s paradise. The kind of place where men came to drown their sorrows in the bottom of a glass or flaunt their hard-earned cash by stuffing crumpled dollar bills into some stripper’s panties. Anything to forget their sad, meager existences.

  “Hayes,” a voice said from the shadows, and I turned, my narrowed gaze landing on Luis Hernandez’s face. Immaculately dressed in black slacks and a dark shirt, he approached us with two burly guys hanging back, flanking his sides.

  “Miller said you wanted a meeting?”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face and tilted his head, studying us. “It could’ve waited.”

  “You know how the old man is. No time like the present,” I said, earning me a smirk of amusement from Hernandez and his men. They knew all about my father and his overambitious ways. But ambition had gotten him nowhere, and he’d spent the past twenty years chasing a dream.

  Although it felt more like a nightmare.

  Hernandez led us to the back room. I’d only been here a couple of times before, running errands for my father, but no one batted an eyelid at the sight of us. It was just business as usual for a bar like this, and with Hernandez’s name over the door, people knew what they were getting when they stepped foot into the place.

  He motioned to the empty chairs, and we sat down around the small table. “How is Miller?”

  I ran a brisk hand over my head and rolled my lips together.

  “Good. He’s good.” Brett filled the awkward silence.

  Hernandez’s scrutiny remained fixed on me, though. He didn’t know the truth—he couldn’t—but he saw something in my reluctance to answer.

  “And you?” He tipped his jaw at me. “You’re good?”

  “Never been better.” My gaze narrowed, refusing to show any sign of weakness, any chinks in my armor. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  The suspicion slipped from his expression, replaced with a flicker of amusement. “Always.”

  For the next hour, we worked out the details of the business arrangement my father had worked so hard to forge. Luis Hernandez and his crew controlled one of the main supply routes for all the coke coming in and out of Mendocino County. Big business for our small corner of Northern California, and Miller Hayes wanted a piece of the pie.

  “Well, gentlemen.” Hernandez leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms wide and high before slipping a packet out of his jeans. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.” He slid a smoke between his lips, and I offered him a stiff nod. Unable to share in his enthusiasm for our new arrangement.

  “Are you sticking around? I’d like to extend my hospitality.” He rose, sweeping his arm out. “Stay. Enjoy the drinks. The girls,” he said with a smirk.

  “Actually we—” I started to say, but Brett rushed to cut me off.

  “We’d love to.” He practically salivated. “I need a cold beer.”

  Hernandez clapped him on the back, and the two of them disappeared into the main bar with me trailing behind. The last thing I wanted was to stick around, but the two-hour drive didn’t sound appealing either, so I found a quiet seat at the bar and ordered a beer. Clearly in his element, Brett was drinking and eyeing the girl working the pole. He flashed me a satisfied grin over his shoulder and went back to his beer and smoke, laughing and joking with Hernandez’s men. He fit in so easily. At twenty-three, he only cared about two things: getting paid and gett
ing pussy. And this life provided him with a never-ending supply of both. But it wasn’t the life for me.

  Never had been.

  I was a prisoner here. A slave to a dying wish.

  Another beer landed in front of me, and my eyes flickered up. “Hey, gorgeous.” The busty blonde flashed me a suggestive smile. “Rough day?”

  “You could say that.”

  She leaned over the bar, her cleavage almost spilling out of her tank top, and trailed a manicured finger up my arm. “Anything I could help with?”

  It would have been so easy to say yes, to drag her to the back room and fuck her. She wanted it—it was right there in her hooded gaze and slightly parted lips—but I saw through her layers of makeup and cheap perfume. She was looking for her next meal ticket.

  And I wasn’t it.

  “I’m good, thanks,” I said too sharply, and she flinched, yanking her hand away.

  “Fine. Your loss.” With a shrug, she moved on to her next customer. I watched her serve him his drink with an eager smile and easy conversation when something caught my eye at the far end of the bar. Another server. Her back was to me, her face hidden, but shit, for a second, she looked so much like—

  The girl turned, curls springing around a face I’d recognize anywhere.

  A face imprinted so deeply on my soul, I carried it around like a tattoo.

  But it couldn’t be ...

  It wasn’t ...

  I strained against the dim lighting, against the tendrils of smoke lingering in the room, hoping—praying—my eyes were playing some cruel trick on me, but a feeling washed over me so strong the air was sucked clean from my lungs. Because the girl standing less than fifty feet away from me was no stranger. She was the ghost that haunted me in my sleep. The permanent ache in my heart.

  And the only girl I’d ever loved.

  2.

  “I knew you missed me but twice in one day? I’m honored.”

  “Is Ana there?” I cut my best friend off as I paced alongside my truck, restless energy humming through me.

  “What happened?” The humor in his voice was gone, replaced with the sharp tone he used every time we found ourselves in a dicey situation.