Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1) (39 page)

BOOK: Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1)
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Picking my phone up, I scrolled to Vinny’s contact number and hit the call button. The line stopped ringing on the second ring.

“Roman.”

“Hey, Barbie. Vinny around?”

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

I waited, listening to her soft tone call out in the background. I never understood how Vinny had snagged a girl like Barbie. Her name fit her well. Blonde hair and legs that made any man grow hard the second they caught view of them. Vinny was a hard-ass, and he sure as hell wasn’t someone I’d imagine women getting off to. But if they were happy, who was I to judge?

Vinny’s voice echoed through the line. “So what’s it going to be, Roman?”

I scrolled to the section of the contract I was looking for. “There is nothing listed under living relatives. What’s the deal with that?”

“Has none as far as I know. He had a wife, but she died thirteen years ago or some shit like that.”

I paused for a minute and then sighed. “I’ll do it”

“Great. You won’t regret it, and just to make it worth your while, I’ll double your payout. This should be one of the easiest contracts you ever done. Not to mention, you don’t have to travel. Oh and I’ve already got you an in.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Looks like Mr. Parker is increasing security. You, Mr. Hayes, will be one of his newest recruits.”

“Fucking lovely.” I ran a hand over my jaw, trying to ease its twitching. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” My brows narrowed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“No. Why the hell you think I needed to know by midnight?”

“Because you’re an impatient fuck,” I growled.

“Watch it, Roman. Don’t think I won’t lay your ass out.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I’d like to see you try.” Vinny mumbled under his breath and I cut him off. “Just set me up with a profile and send me over the information, would you? Oh and put me down as Roman Hayes.”

“Roman, I don’t think that’s a good—”

“Just do it, Vinny. I don’t want to have to worry about remembering who I am this week. Besides, I should be in and out before they have a chance to remember my name.”

“Whatever you say. It’s your ass not mine. I’ll have Barbie send you everything within the hour.”

No need for formalities, I hit the end button and clutched my phone in my hand. For the next hour, I stood in my office, staring out at the lake, trying to mentally prepare myself for another assignment. Despite the number of jobs I completed, they never got easier. And I hoped they never would, because the moment they did, it meant I was no better than the people I went after. Walking into my room, I sat down on the bed and dropped my head to my hands. Rolling my fingers against my temples, I tried to relieve some of the pressure building behind my eyes. Fucking Vinny and his short notice bullshit. Guy was going to give me an aneurysm by the time I was thirty. My cell phone rattled on my nightstand, and its light illuminated, brightening the dark room. Barbie’s fictitious email popped up on the screen, and I grabbed the phone so I could review the profile she sent over. A short message accompanied the file, and my eyes scanned over the words.

You start tomorrow at 10am. V said he’ll be in contact. If you need anything you know how to reach us- B

Standing up, I tossed the phone back on the nightstand and pulled my SIG from my holster, setting it beside my phone. As I did, the nightstand drawer cracked open, and rather than shutting it, I pulled out the stack of pictures I kept hidden inside of it. The pictures weren’t something I looked at often, but when I did, I liked having them within arm’s reach. My lungs felt heavy in my chest as my eyes locked on to the people in the images before me.

While my dark brown hair and green eyes were an exact match to my mother’s, my angular cheekbones and hard chiseled jaw were all features I inherited from my father. There was no denying it; the older I got, the more I resembled both of them. Although I’m almost positive, even at twenty-five, my six-foot frame would have topped my father’s. Staring at the pictures for a few more minutes, I blew out a heavy sigh and dropped them back in the drawer. I couldn’t bring myself to page through them. The second picture in the stack was always the hardest to look at. It was of a life that was taken entirely too soon—someone who deserved to be living instead of lying six feet beneath cold hard ground.

Despite being tired and knowing I needed to get up early, I fought the urge to close my eyes. I knew my past was waiting for me to drop the veil of my eyelids and take another stab at my forever bleeding heart. Fuck, did it even matter? Whether I closed my eyes or not, I was still here—alone—in the quiet emptiness of a room, with no way of escaping the memories that haunted me. I should have taken the pills. But hell, if I didn’t hate the way they made me feel. Sure, they mellowed me out and kept the dreams at bay, but whenever I took them, I felt like I was in a body I had no control over.

Giving up the fight, I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the memories that were about to flash before them. My skin grew clammy, and before I knew it, I was thrown back into a dream I couldn’t escape.

The loud cracking sound of the gunshot rings in my ears. I want to scream, but it’s like I’ve lost all control of my vocal cords. All I’m doing is standing there, watching my father’s lifeless body fall to the floor. Bright red blood pools on the hardwood floor beneath him, and Mom’s sobs are even louder as she pulls Kayla tighter against her. For the first time in my life, I wish I could be the one consoling Kayla. She’s scared. Her tiny fingers clench on to Mom’s green sundress, and her face is buried into the crook of Mom’s neck. I want to protect her. That’s what a big brother is supposed to do, is it not? Protect his little sister? Here is my chance to be the big brother my mother always hoped I’d be. Mom is falling apart, her entire body trembling. She’s staring at me now, a look in her eyes that tells me to run, get out of here, and get help, but my legs have forgotten how to move.

The man dressed in black, the same man who stole my father’s life, turns toward my mother. He raises his hand, pointing the black barrel of the gun at the center of her chest, and the screams that form in my throat die before they even make it out of my mouth. This time there is no hesitation. The sound of the gun goes off for a second time, and I wobble back on my feet. Both Kayla and my mother fall to the floor. Their bodies join my father’s in a lifeless heap. The red pool grows, but before it has a chance to reach my feet, I finally regain control of my leg muscles. I run down the steps and out the front door. I’m not sure I’m even breathing, but I have to be; otherwise, I wouldn’t be crossing the lawn and pounding on our neighbor’s front door.

Joanie opens up; her blonde hair is twisted into an effortless bun and her green eyes stare at me full of concern. “Michael, is everything okay?”

I try so hard to find my voice.
I sob, and the panic eats away at my insides. “I couldn’t stop them. I wanted to, but . . . I couldn’t,” I manage to say around the hard lump in my throat. Bile crawls up my throat and I can’t help it. Bending over, I empty the contents of my stomach into Joanie’s red rosebushes. The deep red color of the petals is almost an exact match to the blood staining my parents’ hardwood floors. A weight presses against my chest, crushing my lungs. I gasp now. Joanie rushes me inside, and I collapse against her. My face is buried in her pink blouse, and the smell of her vanilla perfume makes it even harder to breathe.

I hear her husband’s voice, but it’s muffled by my mother and sister’s screams that still echo in my ears. “What is going on?”

“Ed, call the police!” Joanie’s entire body shakes. No, wait. It’s my body that shakes—shakes uncontrollably. Joanie lays me down on the couch, and I curl to my side, bringing my knees up to my chest. I will the pain in my heart to stop and will the images in my mind to disappear. Time passes, and I lie there, just as lifeless as my entire family; the only difference is, I’m still breathing.

Why am I still breathing?

 

 

First and for most, I want to thank my readers. There is a lot of emotions that go into writing a book, and one of the hardest things is putting your work out there. Your kind words provide me with the courage to keep writing. I love hearing your feedback. The good, the bad, and at times—even the ugly. I can’t grow as a writer without it, so thank you!

I want to give a huge thanks to my beta readers, Michelle, Saleena, Daniela, Tawnya, Erica, and Penny. Your feedback has been invaluable. You ladies weren’t afraid to tell me when Julia was being overly bitchy or when a scene was lacking. The writing world needs more beta readers like you.

Special thanks to my editor, Kelly Hartigan. You have helped make my story the best it can be, and for that I am truly grateful. You have taught me so much, and your patience is like no other. I can’t thank you enough for being so awesome!

My formatter, Stacey Blake. Thank you for adding the finishing touches to my book. Your artful eye and creative touch is amazing. I look forward to working with you on all of my future stories.

My sister, Sarah. Thank you for not only being my biggest cheerleader but also my best friend. Whenever I’m second guessing myself, you set me straight. If it wasn’t for your encouragement, Roman and Julia would still be just a thought in my head.

My brother-in-law, Michael. I know how much you hate reading, and yet, you managed to read through my entire story—and you liked it! You have no idea how much that means to me. Let’s see if I can get you to read the next one.

Aunt Annie, where do I start? There were so many times you talked me out of changing something simply because someone didn’t like it. You helped me sift through the mountain of opinions and constantly reminded me to stay true to my story. You were my first true reader, and my biggest fan. You never fail to tell me how proud you are of me, and you have no idea how much I love you for it. You truly are my book world soulmate.

And last, but certainly not least, my husband, Brian. I know my need to write drives you crazy. My endless hours in front of the computer. Our one sided conversations (because I’m usually too lost in my words to partake in them.) But I hope you know how grateful I am for your constant love and support. You’re helping me make my dream come true, and there are simply not enough words to tell you just how much that means to me. I love you.

 

 

Katie Fox was born in Florida and raised in Pennsylvania where she still currently resides with her husband and son. A hopeless romantic, she is a sucker for a good love story. When you don’t find her nose buried in one, she’s writing one. Since a very young age, writing has been her passion. Moment of Weakness is her debut novel.

Katie has a crazy obsession with social media and loves interacting with her fans.

She can be found online at:

www.AuthorKatieFox.com

www.Facebook.com/AuthorKatieFox

www.Twitter.com/AuthorKatieFox

BOOK: Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1)
7.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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