Chapter One
“This isn’t going to work.”
“Relax, Mattie.” Kirkland ran his hands through his short, perfectly-rumpled hair, utterly at ease. Mattie resisted the urge to smack the asshole up-side his supermodel-pretty head.
“Don’t tell me to relax, K.” She sighed and adjusted her slightly-too-snug skinny jeans one more time. “You’re not the one having to con a family into believing you’re a long-lost daughter.”
K shook her gently by the shoulders. “You are a long-lost daughter. Just not the one they’re looking for. The old woman invited you, babe.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your babe.”
K’s hand shot up and grabbed her throat. He held her tight, his fingertips digging in. Heart hammering, Mattie froze.
“You are mine, Mattie. You always will be.”
He leaned close and forced a wet, tongue-heavy kiss against her lips. “You can run across the world, and I will still find you. You can’t hide from me, babe.” With his other hand, he squeezed her left breast painfully hard.
A family with a bunch of little kids walked past. The mother pushed her baby into a man’s arms and held her phone up. “Let her go, asshole, or I’m calling the cops!”
K dropped his hand and Mattie stepped back. The truck behind her left her with nowhere to go. The woman hadn’t moved from the end of the parking space. Her husband was already on the phone with somebody. Judging from his tone, Mattie guessed it was the airport police.
“You’re going to do this, Matilyn. You think I’m hurting you now or that I’ve hurt you before, it ain’t nothing compared to what I’m going to do if you screw this up.” He knocked her head back against the window of the truck. Stars spun in her eyes, and a headache flared up immediately.
“Make it easy for yourself. You go in there, find out what the old woman wants, and get my money. You’ve got enough on her now to get it all. I’m sure the newspapers are dying to hear about Ruth Ellen Carruther’s bastard granddaughter. Another chapter to the McKendrick saga.”
The only remaining daughter, Emeline, was a ‘victim’ of a leaked sex tape with a controversial hip-hop artist. Elaine, the McKendrick heir Mattie was supposed to be, had disappeared after her fifth birthday under suspicious circumstances. Karen McKendrick, Mattie’s mother, killed herself after a dramatic battle with brain cancer. James McKendrick, Karen’s husband--but not Mattie’s father--was in and out of the financial pages of the newspapers, a constant rotation between doing good and on the verge of getting arrested. A surprise heir would shake things up even more.
The whoop of a siren startled K. He let her go as a police officer climbed out of the car Mattie hadn’t even heard them drive up. The family moved on, but didn’t leave completely. Mattie grabbed her cheap duffel bag and backpack from the ground and fled across the four lanes separating the drop-off/pick-up area from the terminals, ignoring the calls of the cop. The regional airport was small, but large enough for two terminals and a separate building for conference rooms and rental car kiosks.
Once inside the airport she dove inside the biggest knot of people she could find. Towering Japanese kids in basketball uniforms stared at her with a mix of confusion, reproach, and anger. She hurried through and ducked into the nearest bathroom.
The last stall in the darkest corner was available. She locked the door and leaned against the cold tile wall.
“Oh, dear God,” she moaned into her cold hands. Tremors racked her body for a moment. “Get a grip, Mat. Just get a grip.”
She pulled the plane ticket out of the envelope and checked the departure time. She had about thirty minutes to check in, make it through security and to the terminal. She’d never make it if she huddled in the bathroom like a scared kid. Then K would really come down on her. She took a deep breath. K’s threats hung around her head like ghosts.
Mattie shoved the paper into her pocket and left the stall. She went to the sink and washed her hands, eyeing herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner and mascara smeared beneath her eyes, lending her the look of a goth raccoon. A wet paper towel fixed most of the damage. She reapplied her eyeliner, then the mascara.
You can do this. Get it done, and then you can disappear.
No. Molly. She couldn’t leave Molly. Cute, crazy, amazing Molly.
A spark of hatred strong enough to make her want to start crying again welled up. Fucking pedophile. K messed with her since Carmen, woman who’d raised her, married his father when she was just a little older than Molly was now. He was almost eighteen. Handsome. Charming. He paid attention to her. Gave her little presents and made her laugh. When his best friend Isabelle tormented her, he was the one to hug her and make her feel better.
The day after she turned thirteen, he got her drunk on wine coolers. She woke up the next morning naked, bleeding, and, as she found out a couple months later, pregnant. K laughed. Isabelle called her a whore. When she tried to tell Carmen what happened, all she got was a, “you probably deserved it.”
Even when Mattie got the nerve to tell the counselor at school what happened, Carmen, K’s father, and K himself wove a convincing story about her delinquent behavior that--insert heartbreaking sobs--led to Mattie ending up in ‘that situation.’ No matter how far she ran or who she ran to, Carmen always dragged her back into hell.
A mother and daughter duo entered the bathroom, chattering in Dutch. The girl glanced up at Mattie and smiled shyly before her mother ushered her into a stall. Cute kid. The long blonde hair and bright blues eyes made Mattie think of Molly.
That’s who I’m doing this for. Molly. Not K.
Satisfied with her makeup, Mattie left the bathroom. She melted into the people hurrying through the lobby toward the security checkpoint. Once in line, she kicked off her shoes and fished her phone out of her pocket. She made it through the line and on to the plane with a few minutes to spare.
When the plane was finally high above the earth, she slipped her earbuds in and set her ancient MP3 player to shuffle. Everybody else had slick iPods and smartphones, but nothing took the place of the tiny eight-gig Wal-Mart special she’d had for years. The soothing crash and thunder of hard alternative rock eased the tension out of her muscles. For the first time in two weeks, since K had coerced her into his devious scheme, she let herself relax. With a sigh, she leaned back against the stiff seat back.
Everything since Ruth Ellen’s representative had shown up on her doorstep had been surreal. Even though she was half a country away from K, he heard about the woman’s request that Mattie fly to Florida for a meeting. With plenty of threats and promises, he flashed pictures of their daughter and her adoptive family in her face, making lots of vague promises laden with threats. Mattie knew him well enough to know what he really meant when he said she’d regret it.
What had frightened her was that he knew where Molly was, and had known for a long time.
It meant he knew a lot more than she thought he did. She never would have accepted the bizarre packet of papers Ruth Ellen had sent with her personal lawyer if K hadn’t been right beside her on the couch, arm around her shoulders. Only she knew he wasn’t being brotherly. The aching grip of his hand on her shoulder was a threat in itself.
For four years she had managed to avoid him, but in the space of a day, her hard-earned life crashed down around her ears. K left her shaking inside, nearly mindless with fear of what he could do to Molly and the Thompsons.
From now on, she wasn’t Matilyn Delacourt. Ruth Ellen’s representative never told them completely what the woman wanted, other than she wanted to see Mattie, and as long as she was in Florida, she had to pretend to be yet another McKendrick daughter.
She was Elaine McKendrick. Elaine, she said in her head, over and over again. The fake ID in her wallet said Matilyn Smith. Another name to keep straight. Ruth Ellen wanted her to use a different name, a new identity, so that when McKendrick ran his background checks, his investigator wouldn’t find out about her past easily.
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Someone jostled her arm. She jumped and jerked away from the warm contact. “Sorry,” the guy in the seat next to her said. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Reluctantly, she plucked the earbuds from her ears.
The insanely gorgeous eyes left her mind blank and her cheeks on fire.
“I’m West.” He extended his hand to her.
Numbly, she shook it.
“Mattie. I’m Mattie.”
“Where are you headed to, Mattie?”
“Daytona Beach.” Live the lie.
“Really. That’s interesting. I’m going to good ole’ DB as well. Who’re you going to see? Maybe I know them.”
“Um, I don’t really know you...”
“I’m not a stalker. I swear. Scout’s honor.” He grinned, charming her with a million-watt smile.
“Um, the McKendricks,” she said.
“James McKendrick? Ruth Ellen?”
Mattie felt sick. She pasted a cheery smile on her face and nodded. She wanted to puke. “Yeah! That’s them. I just found out James is my biological father. Ruth Ellen wants to meet me.”
“No shit! You’re Elaine, then. What a small world!”
He turned toward her, grinning. She didn’t like the intensity of his eyes. Way too intense. They bored into hers, turning into a bowl of quivering jelly and a sack of nerves at the same time.
The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m that Elaine.”
“Well, Elaine. I’m a close family friend. I was stunned to hear about you. We’ve all thought you were dead for twenty-something years.” She might be mistaken, but that looked like pain in his eyes. She’d relied on her instinct when it came to reading people. Everything about the man warned her to be careful.
His damn smile was way too disarming.
“You did?” That was news. As far as she knew, the real Elaine vanished in the middle of the night when she was five or six.
“Yeah. What else would we think? You disappeared in the middle of the night.”
Mattie shrugged. “I just thought I was adopted. It was a pretty big surprise for me, too.”
“Ruth Ellen’s pretty sick.” His eyes turned predatory. A little chill of fear made goose bumps pop out up and down Mattie’s arms. “Bet that money of hers sounds pretty sweet.”
“I’m not doing this to make a dime, Mr. West. I just want to find my roots. My mom died a few years ago, and I want to get to know my real family. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
He nodded, a satisfied expression on his face that did nothing to dilute the piercing quality of his eyes. She knew without a doubt that she had to be careful around this guy.
“Is West your first name?” That should change the subject.
“No. My first name is Brant. When I was in middle school, teacher started calling me by my last name, and it stuck.” He laughed, a rich sound that made her smile, too, despite her instinctual fear of the man. “Sounds awesome when you’re in a band, though.”
“You’re in a band?”
“Lead singer for a little local cover band.”
“That’s cool.”
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Without asking, he tugged the cord from her earbuds from her MP3 player and plugged it into his phone. He scrolled through the menus and finally tapped ‘play.’
The voice crooning one of her favorite Breaking Benjamin songs, “Rain,” made her jaw drop in surprise. He had an edge to his voice, a gentle rasp, and he sang with the passion of a heartbroken angel. He started to remove the earbud cord after a few seconds, but she stopped him with a soft touch.
“Wait.”
The longer she listened, the bigger his smile got. When the song ended and she pulled the earbuds from her ears, she wasn’t sure if she should go all fan-girl on him, or play it cool.
“Ho-ly crap, Mr. West,” she said, breathless. “Is that really you?”
He smirked and cleared his throat. He thought for a second and launched into the chorus. When he was done, half the airplane broke out in applause.
His voice did things to her that she hadn’t experienced in years. Heart aflutter, she grinned back at him. “I don’t even know what to say. That was amazing. Why aren’t you singing for some huge record label.”
“I’m content with my life as it is. My band plays a few concerts a month at small venues or weddings or whatever, and I can run my business without aspirations of fame and fortune getting in the way.”
“I don’t blame you. A quiet life is all I want.”
Despite all his banter and laughter, his piercing, suspicious gaze didn’t let up. She took a second to look him over. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, just a notch above ordinary. His hair was an unusual color stuck somewhere between copper and brown and dark blond. The sun, flashing off the wings of the plane, made his natural golden highlights shift and change. His eyelashes were the same prismatic blond-copper-brown. His eyes were the most striking of his features. They were the color of a deep lake, and in the depths of those dark gray-blue colors, a storm brewed. Bright gold flecks twinkled in his irises.
The way he filled out his vintage Star Wars T-shirt and ragged, faded jeans didn’t bother her one bit. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and wiry, corded muscles flexed in his arm. He passed her earbud cord back to her. She tucked the MP3 player into her pocket. “You’ve spoiled me for other men,” she joked.
“After we land,” he asked, “what’re your plans?”
“I was just going to grab a taxi and go see my grandmother.”
“I’ll drive you, as long as you don’t mind stopping by your father’s place on the way out. My car’s at the airport.”
“Oh, no I don’t want to put you out. I wasn’t really planning on seeing him--them--until I’d spoken with Ruth Ellen.”
“It’s where I’m headed. Me and your sister, we’re almost engaged.”
A rock dropped in her stomach. Amazed by her automatic, disappointed response, she forced another smile.
“That’s great. I’m excited to get to know her.”
“Emeline.” He sighed. “She’s a real sweetheart. An absolutely amazing woman. I love her so much.”
For the first time the blazing arrows of suspicion stopped firing from his eyes. He squinted at her, studying her. “You don’t look much like her.”
“Sorry. I guess I got the short end of the genetic stick.” Did he just insult her? She wasn’t anything special--dark blonde hair, grayish-blue eyes, maybe a bit on the curvy side--but she’d never considered herself unattractive. She’d seen Emeline in the tabloids for a while after her sex tape leaked. She was gorgeous. Tall, willowy, perfect. Karen had been gorgeous as well.
My dad was probably the milkman.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. All she had to do was make nice with the family, figure out how to get the money for K, and Elaine McKendrick would drop back off the face of the Earth.
West watched her for another long moment. “They’ve been through a lot, Mattie. If you’re out to try something shady, they’ll figure you out.”
Mattie scowled at him. “I don’t need or want their money. I don’t have a lot of my own money, but it’s enough to survive.” Mad at him, she turned toward the window and jammed the earbuds back in her ears. She hated it when people doubted her. Nothing ruined a day quicker. Underestimated all the time, it had affected her entire life. She fumbled with the plug before finally getting it back into the MP3 player. She hit the play button and Godsmack roared in her ears.
K underestimated her now. The further away from him she went, the more confident she became. There was a plan forming in her mind, one that would get her away from him for good. The only reason she was doing this one last job was to pave the way for her final escape. Maybe it wouldn’t even have to involve any sort of scam. There was always the possibility that Ruth Ellen was feeling guilty about sending her bastard oldest granddaughter off with a well-paid maid and wanted to recompense her somehow.
She really didn’t want to hurt anyone ever agai
n, in any way, and avoiding any sort of illegal activity was always a plus. What she was leaving behind broke her heart, but it was necessary. Molly and her family were so much safer if Mattie was far, far away. Everybody she loved was safest when she was far, far away.