Trusted and true, p.1
Trusted & True, page 1
Also available from Rhenna Morgan
and Carina Press
Men of Haven series
Rough & Tumble
Wild & Sweet
Claim & Protect
Tempted & Taken
Staånd & Deliver
Down & Dirty
NOLA Knights series
His to Defend
Hers to Tame
Ancient Ink series
Guardian’s Bond
Healer’s Need
Also available from Rhenna Morgan
Unexpected Eden
Healing Eden
Waking Eden
Eden’s Deliverance
Trusted & True
Rhenna Morgan
For my dad. I still miss you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Author Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Excerpt from His to Defend by Rhenna Morgan
Chapter One
Callie
“Hi, my name’s Callie, and I’m an alcoholic and drug addict.” Off and on for over six years, those exact words had rolled off my tongue countless times. Today, the quaver in my voice made it sound like it was day one.
The people seated in the circle around me echoed back a strong and friendly, “Hi, Callie.”
And then there was nothing but silence.
Silence and a host of patient expressions aimed my way while I clasped my sweat-slick, shaking hands a little tighter in my lap. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t recognize a single face in the room. None, that is, except my sponsor who’d helped me move over the weekend and now sat on my right.
I cleared my throat before I spoke—not that it did much in the way of adding confidence. “So... I’m new to the Dallas area.”
Nope, not really true. Try again, missy.
Shrugging, I let out an exhale on a self-deprecating chuckle. “Okay, returned is probably more like it. I left here a little over six years ago for Louisiana. It was either go to treatment there, or pay for my drinking and drugging with a bullet to the head.”
I glanced at my sponsor, Maggie, beside me.
Damn, but that woman was an angel. Hard as hell when she needed to be and never let me off easy when I had my head up my ass, but seemed to have an unlimited supply of patience where I was concerned. She smiled and dipped her head in encouragement.
Letting out a slow breath, I wiped my hands on my jeans. “The thing is, that trip to rehab didn’t work. I mean, it did for a bit. And it definitely screwed up my being able to stick my head in the sand about my using, but it took me another six trips through hell before this time around.”
That horrifying sensation of having an invisible noose wrapped round my throat cinched a little tighter, remembering what had finally brought me to where I was today. “Three hundred and seventy-two days ago, I woke up naked in a bedroom I didn’t recognize to the sound of gunshots. Not that waking up naked in an unfamiliar house was all that abnormal, but gunshots and a whole lot of yelling and screaming...yeah, that scared the living hell out of me. Worse, I was still fucked up enough I couldn’t move very well and didn’t have the sense God gave a goose. I ended up jumping out of the bedroom window half-dressed and earned myself a broken forearm and some pretty scars from broken glass.”
I ran one finger across a particularly nasty one that cut across the back of my wrist, the blood that had covered my skin that day still vividly bright in my mind. “I spent a long time that day tryin’ to call someone—anyone—to come help me.” I shook my head at the empty center of the circle before I met the gaze of a late twenties or early thirties man right across from me. He didn’t know me any more than I knew him, but he knew exactly what I was talking about. The recognition—the understanding—was right there in his eyes. “No one would take my calls. I had no money. Nowhere to go. No friends or family who’d have anything to do with me. The only thing I had to claim for myself was another fucked up situation...and that’s when I hit my bottom. Not so much because of how banged up I was, but because I had nothing. No self-respect. No life. No love. No home. Nothing. And the really sad thing? I found out the next day that the house I’d been in? Whoever was shooting it up left no one alive. If the gunner had shown even a few hours earlier, a gunshot wouldn’t have been loud enough to wake me up, and I’d be dead, too—with absolutely no one who’d mourn me.”
Finally, some of the weight on my chest lifted and the air-conditioning finally registered against my clammy skin. I jerked my head toward Maggie. “I called my sponsor. Or at least she’d been my sponsor before the last time I jumped off the wagon. I wasn’t too sure she’d be willing to talk to me after ignoring everything she’d shared with me before, but she told me she’d never walk away from me if I was willing to do the work. So, I started going to meetings again and really working the steps instead of paying lip service to them. Now, here I am a little over a year later—finishing my unpacking on Independence Day, which I think is ironic as hell—and ready to face my past by making some serious amends. And let me tell y’all... I’m terrified. I mean, it’s one thing to own up to my character defects, but facing the people I hurt and seeing if they spit in my face?” I shook my head. “I’m not all that sure I’m ready for it. But I know I need to. I know working the steps and clearing out all the trash cluttering my life is the only way I’m gonna make it sober. And I want that. I really want it. I want healthy friends. I want a chance to have my sister in my life again and to show her there’s more to me than just drugs and alcohol and problems.”
I scanned the people in the circle and forced the muscles in my shoulders to relax. “So, yeah. That’s why I’m here joining a new group and what I’m out to do. If you guys have a call list or some regular times you meet up for coffee, I’d sure appreciate healthy people to hang with while I’m looking for a job. And thanks for letting me share.”
Maggie’s hand covered mine and a host of people around the room offered a litany of Keep coming back and Glad you’re here.
Yeah, ninety-nine percent of the people around me were strangers and their responses were about as standard at an AA meeting as a postage stamp on a letter, but I needed every one of them.
This was actually happening.
I was within short-range driving distance of all the bullshit I’d left behind and speeding toward very possible, if not probable, rejection.
But it was what I needed to stay sober, and this time I wasn’t going to rob myself of the chance at a good life. Of having some self-respect and an existence I could be proud of—whether it meant staring rejection in the face or not.
Twenty minutes and a group recitation of the Lord’s Prayer later, the meeting was over and the roomful of recovering alcoholics just like me were on their feet, sharing hugs and handshakes, and cleaning up.
Her red hobo bag already thrown over one shoulder, Maggie tucked her empty water bottle under one arm and folded up her chair. At sixty-two years old, she had the same or more energy than some twentysomethings and had a penchant for the gaudiest jewelry on the planet. She loved the sun almost as much as she loved to laugh and her skin showed it, the overexposure and constant smiles etching deep wrinkles on her face. “They seem like a quality group. Lots of sobriety in attendance. Got at least one meeting a day and it’s close to your new place, too. That’ll come in handy.”
I snickered under my breath and followed her with my own chair to the rack designated for stowing them away until the next meeting. “Is that your crafty way of telling me I’d be wise to hit as many meetings as possible while I settle in?”
“No such thing as too many meetings, little girl. Not even for me, and I’ve been sober almost half as long as I’ve been alive.” She paused and considered me, her brown gaze cutting right to the core of the matter in no time. “How ya holding up?”
Knowing my lifeline was all of ten or fifteen minutes from motoring back to Louisiana and leaving me without an anchor, the answer was a no-brainer. “Nervous as hell. Wondering why I had this stupid idea in the first place. Or if I’m even ready yet.”
“You’re ready. And you had the idea because your Higher Power gave it to you. Hard to make amends to people when you’re in a completely different state. Especially the kind of amends you’ve gotta make.” She slung an arm around my shoulder and steered me toward the long folding table near the room’s entrance and the woman packing up all the welcome literature that had been laid out for newcomers. “Come on. Let’s see if they’ve got a phone list handy before you walk me out to my car.”
The midforties-looking blonde who’d also been the leader for tonight’s meeting stacked all the meeting paraphernalia into the bottom of a two-drawer filing cabinet and punched the lock button at the top corner. She stood, surveyed the space around her as though double-checking for something, then threw up her hands and turned our direction. The second she laid eyes on Maggie and me, her eyes got big, and a chagrined smile warmed her face. “Darn it! I knew I was forgetting something!” She held up one finger, then dug a set of keys from the front pocket of her jeans. “I pulled a call sheet just for you, then stacked it on top of everything else while I was packing. Let me just grab it for you.”
“No hurry on my account,” I said with a chuckle. “The only thing waiting for me at home are boxes and maybe some fast food.”
“At least you can eat fast food,” Maggie grumbled. “The way salt hits my system, I eat so much as a French fry and I’m blown up like a puffer fish by morning.”
I snorted at that. “Like that ever stopped you from a run through the McDonald’s drive-thru. And, for the record, you’re the only person on the planet who ever thinks you look puffy. You’ve got a metabolism most women would kill for.”
She raised her hands in mock surrender and added, “What can I say? God knew givin’ up booze was gonna be hard enough, so he gave me the means to scarf back my fair share of Big Macs.”
“Okay!” the blonde said as she stood and locked the file cabinet once more. “Here we go.” She handed over two sheets of paper. “One call list and a rundown of our meetings. We’ve got a lot of active members who’ve been in the program awhile and are fortunate to have a strong enough attendance to keep our own building running.”
I took the sheet, glancing at the long list of meetings offered throughout the week before I folded the papers in half and tucked them in my purse. “You’re Susan, right?”
“Yep. Secretary for our group. Been sober for coming up on seven years.”
Seven years.
I’d barely wrapped my head around the fact that I’d actually made it past one trip around the sun without a fix. To make it as long as she had—or for that matter, as long as Maggie had—defied my somewhat vivid imagination. “That’s really nice. Someday I’d like that for myself.”
Her smile softened and warmed. “As honest as you were tonight, something tells me you’re on the right track. Just one day at a time.”
“Amen to that,” Maggie added. She opened her mouth as though to say something else, but a man stepped close enough to catch her eye and interrupt.
“Excuse me.” He looked to Maggie and Susan first before he centered on me. “My name’s Jason. Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve gotta be someplace and wanted to give you something before I leave.”
Whoa. He’s hot.
Strawberry blond hair cut nice, a closely cropped beard to match, and a killer smile. I was so caught up in appreciating the overall package it took a sluggish few seconds before I figured out he was the same guy I’d locked stares with across the room while sharing. “Something for me?”
Maggie dipped her head toward the business card he held extended out to me and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. Right. Duh.” I took the simple white card. Aside from the heavily slanted font for the business name, it was just his name and a number beneath it. “What’s Street Dreamz?”
“It’s where I work. We make custom cars and motorcycles for people. You mentioned you were looking for a job. As far as I know, my boss hasn’t started looking for anyone yet, but there hasn’t been a day in the last two months he hasn’t said he needs an office manager. It’s only a mile from here, so I thought you might wanna hit him up and see if he’ll give you a shot.”
“An office manager?” I glanced at Maggie before routing my attention back to Jason. “What do they do?”
He shrugged and chuckled. “Beats the shit out of me. I just work on the rides. But if I had to guess, it’s mostly answering phones, ordering parts and inventory, and making sure the rest of us don’t make the boss’s life a living hell.”
Hmmm. Office manager, huh? It sounded nice. Too nice, actually. I fingered the edge of the business card and peeked at Maggie. “Wouldn’t I have to have some experience for a gig like this or something? I mean, if he’s looking for a manager doesn’t that mean he’d want someone who’s done it before?”
It was Susan who answered. “Oh, honey. Don’t get wrapped up in the title. First off, everyone’s gotta start somewhere. Even managers. Second, it doesn’t sound like you’d be managing people. Just organizing things and making sure the business runs smoothly.”
“And trust me,” Jason said. “My boss is about as chill as they come. Or he was until business took off and he opened up two more shops. All he wants is someone to take the paperwork off his back so he can get back to workin’ on cars.”
He lifted his chin toward the card. “Seriously. Stop by tomorrow if you get a chance and hit him up. Even if he’s not ready to pull the trigger on some help, he’s got a ton of connections with other people who might be looking for help.”
An odd and completely foreign lightness stirred inside me, and for some stupid reason my lungs had a hard time doing their job. Like they were afraid to move for fear of screwing up the opportunity or something. Nodding, I awkwardly held out my hand. “Feels a bit like a Hail Mary, but what the heck, right? Thanks for the lead, man.”
His smile really was a killer. A perfect mix of bad boy and momma’s angel that would have had me doing everything in my power to latch onto him a little over a year ago. He shook my hand and dipped his head to Maggie and Susan. “No problem. Sorry to share and run, but good luck.”
He’d barely turned away before Susan made her own hasty exit. “I hate to leave you hanging, too, but I’ve got two teenagers chomping at the bit to make the city’s big fireworks display.” With zero hesitation, she opened her arms for a hug and pulled me in tight. “My name’s on the list. You need anything—anything at all—you just call.” She backed away, gave Maggie a quick hug as well and then hustled off with a backward wave. “Y’all have a good night.”
“Ahhh...” Maggie said on a happy sigh. “I’m so damned glad my child-rearing days are over. I swear to God, every gray hair on my head came to pass because of adolescence and hormones.”
The comment did the trick and pulled me out of my semi-stupor. “You’re a brunette!”
“Only thanks to my hairdresser, little girl. Now, come on.” She steered me with a hand at my arm toward the building’s exit and the parking lot beyond. “Get me to my car so I can get on the road. I don’t mind the long ride home, but those seven hours aren’t going to drive themselves.”
Outside, it was typical summer in Texas—hot and muggy. The sun made its last descent behind the AA clubhouse, casting the asphalt parking lot and all the people meandering to their cars in much welcome shade. To the east, the skies had darkened just enough to promise a few stars. “Gonna be a good night for fireworks,” I said for no particular reason.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It was more that I was scrambling for something—anything—to keep the woman who’d been my lifeline for the last year close to me a minute longer. Even if it was just small talk.
From the understanding on Maggie’s face, she knew exactly what was going on. “You know, you could go back in the clubhouse and go watch the show with those people who said they were going. You might make some new friends and have some fun while you’re at it.”
I crammed my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and studied the pavement while Maggie unlocked the door to her old sky blue Cadillac and tossed her purse to the passenger’s seat. “I thought about it. Truth is, I feel like some time alone tonight unpacking might be better for me. Give me some time to process everything I’m feeling.”
As was her way, Maggie nodded. “Well, then, go with your gut. Just don’t let those feelings lead you to the liquor store. Make a call instead.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a mock salute.
She snorted and pulled me in for a hug. “Smart-ass.”
For the longest time, she just held me, ever so slightly shifting from side to side.
