Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)
Six Degrees Series
Book Three
Davenport Harbor
by
Mayra Statham
Copyright © 2015 by Mayra Statham
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
First off to my wonderful hubby. Thank You for being my number one cheerleader. I love you!
My beautiful kids, you three are the greatest thing I have ever done. If you could learn one thing from me, I would say, reach for your dream and never stop; even when one dream turns into another.
My wonderful street team, thank you for your incredible support. You guys mean so much to me!
ReCreatives, Thank you for the amazing cover!
Julia Goda: Thank you for making this book shine the way you did. John and Anne’s story is so much better now. Thank you!
The Art of Romance and their leading lady Yolanda, Thank You for your help promoting and organizing everything, but mostly for the honor of being able to call you my friend.
Beta Readers: Cindi, Tracie, Heather, Lauren, Ceci…Your input and opinions helped so much in creating John and Anne’s story. I have no words to thank you enough.
Jordan Marie, Tammie Smith, CP Smith, Julia Goda, RB HIllard, Fran Owen, CJ Fling & Jennifer Miller, Your friendship and guidance means the world to me. There are not enough words of gratitude, so I guess all I can really say is thank you for being you. Each of you are important, appreciated and loved!
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall ~Confucius
HIM
Nightmares. I hate the fucking things. The memories that your mind ignores, letting them lie in the dark corners only to have them come out and play in the middle of the night or when the mood strikes. The realism of mine are what get to me:
Everything turns red and murky; my mind is fuzzy with booze. Fuck, I shouldn’t have drunk so damn much. No matter what, the middle of May always does this to me. No matter how much I drink or try to ignore the past, it all comes back
…
Mossy green eyes that were once so happy and bright turn dull and flat; until they close and filter away, disappearing into a tiny little box. I see those same mossy green eyes, but this time they belong to
her
. She’s yelling and screeching at me, but my mind is too fuzzy to pay attention from the constant swaying. God, I hate her voice. She hates me. She died hating me.
Sitting up in bed, I
’
m so far gone I no longer know if this is real or a nightmare. My eyes fall towards the bathroom and I stare at the pristine white tiles. For a small moment I
’
m relieved, thinking I
’
m finally awake, my mind wobbling back and forth; it
’
s gone. The nightmare is finally gone
. . .
the thought frozen in my mind, my relief is short-lived as the white floor tiles turn red.
Blood red.
Watching the feminine hand slumped over the edge of the bath, red thick water covering my feet as it overflows from the tub.
My hands are in my hair; the nightmares never go away
…
HER
Anxiety fills me as I look at the small test in my shaking hands: plus sign.
A plus sign. My hand goes to my flat, almost concave stomach as my eyes look in the mirror and I have no idea who that woman is. Bruised and battered are the only two words I can seem to conjure up to describe the woman staring back at me. Licking my lips, I wince in pain; pain I
’
m surprised I can even feel.
For a whole year now, all I
’
ve felt is pain. Pain and fear.
My eyes drift to the test resting on the countertop, the tips of my fingers tracing the plus sign.
It’s positive.
Somehow, looking at it gives me strength I didn
’
t know I possessed after feeling as broken as I have. I look at my eyes and nothing else. Ignoring the blue, purple, and green tones that mar my bruised face; I look at my eyes and only there. Nothing more. Not the horrible stringy, bottle-blond hair I hate or the discoloring of my skin or the swelling on my face. This is it, it’s do or die time. If I stay here that is exactly what is going to happen: I am going to die. He is going to kill me one day. He threatens me daily with it.
Looking at my hazel eyes, I breathe in deeply, my hand still over my stomach. A calm energy like I’ve never known sweeps over me. Looking at the clock, I wrap the test in toilet paper and carefully lean down, grabbing the empty bottle of shampoo I
’
ve hidden underneath the vanity that I’d been filling with every dollar and piece of spare change I could hide away. I pack both quietly into the duffel bag that I have kept buried in the back of the closet since the last time I tried to run away. Placing it over my shoulder, ignoring the bite of pain, without a second look or thought, I leave everything behind.
It is time to start anew for both my baby and me.
John Davenport
The rain pouring down in an unusual way for Southern California only added an extra knot of tension to my shoulders. Trying to roll them so they didn’t feel as stiff as they did, only made me realize that maybe I’d pushed it a little too much at the gym with Nick and Mike. The stiffness only added to my bad mood. A thick fog started to settle as I hopped into my BMW X5. Driving down the windy road of my hill, I noticed an older model silver Honda Civic with its emergency lights turned on at the opposite side of the road. Knowing that no one was supposed to be here since it was my private road, I groaned and made a U-Turn.
I didn’t have time for this shit.
Whoever it is must have gotten turned around.
Before getting out of the car I sent Mike a quick text letting him know I was running late. Stepping out of my car, leaving my lights on, my dress shirt getting wet because of the damn rain, I could feel myself start to become more irritated. I was already late to Mike and Sabrina
’
s because my receptionist had decided to up and quit, leaving me short-handed and making my day go from bad to worse. Then I had let Nick and Mike goad me into competing with them while we lifted weights at the gym after work. Now I
’
d be running even later because I was soaked and would have to run back home to change.
Mike was going to chew my ass out.
Somehow Mike had talked me into watching the kids...all four of them. The older three basically watched themselves, but baby Nikki was less than a year old now. I wasn’t sure how exactly, but somehow he
’
d talked me into it, begging for a night out with his wife. Maybe it was because baby Nikki was so enchantingly beautiful and she
’
d mystically wrapped me around her little finger from the moment she
’
d been born; or maybe it was because their kids were pretty funny; or maybe it was because Mike was a poor married sap now and he needed a night out with his beautiful wife and I had momentarily felt sorry for the guy. Whatever it was, I
’
d been completely suckered into being a babysitter tonight. Thinking about my best friend and his family made me want to smile and frown at the same time. They were sickeningly cute.
I could see a small shadowy figure kneeling by the passenger side tire so I shouted, “Hello!”
“
Hi.
”
A small feminine voice drifted into the air and I felt my headache begin to worsen.
“
Do you need help?
”
I offered, trying to make out the figure kneeling by the passenger side.
“
No, thank you,
”
the feminine voice squeaked and I rolled my eyes.
Women had no idea what they were doing changing a tire, and as confident as this one sounded, I would have bet ten grand without blinking she had no clue whatsoever about what she was doing.
“
It
’
s raining,
”
I remarked, my voice tight with irritation.
“
Thanks for the weather update, Captain Obvious,
”
the squeaky voice turned snarky, and I glared in her direction.
Taking a deep breath as I stared ahead into the old car, I noticed a baby seat in the back. Mike had made me go shopping with him when Sabrina was pregnant with Nikki. Who was I kidding? I
’
d gone willingly, enjoying his joy and happiness and never losing an opportunity to goad him about having lost his balls to a jar next to his wife
’
s nightstand.
Almost groaning at the fact that I was definitely going to have to help this snarky woman, I took a couple of steps towards her.
“
Look, I can get that changed for you faster than you can.
”
She laughed humorlessly, shaking her head, and all I could do was scowl. Instead of laughing, she should have been grateful I was willing to help her.
“
I don
’
t know if you realize this, but women can do a lot of things now. Vote, work outside of the home, wear pants, even read! All kinds of things only men used to be able to do," she sassed as she grunted trying to take off a lug nut,
“
So if you don
’
t mind, you can go on your way,
”
she clipped and I bit back a smile.
Her quick wit is slightly refreshing.
This kitten has claws.
“
I get women's lib and everything, but it
’
s not safe to be here all alone. No one is going to pass by on this road,
”
I explained as her shoulders squared.
“
Why do you say that?
”
She asked wearily, and I noticed the knuckles on her hand tightening the tire iron were almost ghostly white as she stood up. The oversized grey hoodie that she was wearing would have made her shapeless, but with the rain that had poured down you could make out how thin she was. I still hadn
’
t seen her face. From where I stood, she seemed tiny. Not height wise; she was definitely taller than average. Five foot seven, or maybe even eight.
“
Because this is a private road. My road. You
’
re on my hill. Now, why don't you get into your car with your baby and I
’
ll change your tire.
”
