Sins of the Father

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Authors: Melissa Barker-Simpson

Tags: #romance, #crime, #suspense, #soldier, #bodyguard

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Sins of the
Father

 

 

Melissa
Barker-Simpson

Copyright © 2016 Melissa
Barker-Simpson

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 non-commercial uses
permitted by copyright law.

 

DEDICATION

 

 

For my
mum
.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

About Melissa
Barker-Simpson

Other books by Melissa
Barker-Simpson

Connect with Melissa
Barker-Simpson

PREFACE

 

 

To the untrained eye,
Paul Meeks was a gentle man; as mild as his name would suggest. But
Paul had a secret - a darkness that had become his sole purpose for
living. It fuelled him, pushed him with a ferocity that had become
an obsession. Paul Meeks had murder on his mind.

Nothing gave him a kick
like the sweet pull of revenge. He was a fastidious man, and though
not an impulsive one, he had been drawn to the high-end BMW. The
vehicle was his weapon of choice for the first step in his plan.
Stealing it had been almost as exciting as driving it.

He ran his fingers over
the steering wheel with a fervour he might have shown a lover. The
car was a distraction, he knew it, but he didn’t care. Nobody could
blame him for playing the first piece in style. When it was over
there would be no use for such luxuries. If he was lucky, he’d be
dead. He wasn’t afraid; the thought of death gave him a curious
buzz.

His eyes travelled almost
lazily to the rear-view mirror. It was time – he could feel it. The
very thought made his heart accelerate until it began to beat out a
steady rhythm. The scene was set. He had everything in
place.

The car was sheltered
beneath a row of trees, their branches leaning to offer protection.
Everything was working with him tonight, even nature. He had chosen
the long stretch of road for its hiding places. It led to a small
village so insignificant that he could barely recall the name. It
was one of those places people joke about; dumb quips that don’t
inspire confidence.

He knew the moment had
come even before he saw the headlights. He didn’t wait for
confirmation. There was no need. The BMW gave little protest as he
pulled onto the road with a screech of rubber. He could see the
slick colour of Jack Murphy’s sports car – blackened by the night.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine the look of frustration on Jack’s
face.


1… 2… 3…”
Counting aloud calmed him. It banked the excitement that threatened
to overwhelm. The moment Jack swung out to overtake him was as
orchestrated as his own manoeuvre. He saw it with a clarity that
made his head spin – power shot through his arms and into his
wrists so that they twisted sharp right exactly on
target.

He felt the car make
contact with the Audi’s back bumper and the shock of impact made
his blood sing. He felt like a god-damn superhero. The maniacal
laugh that erupted from him was more fitting to a
super-villain.

It became a bark of
frustration when his car started to slide. He knew how to handle
it, but it meant he missed part of the show. The sound of Jack’s
car crashing into a tree was like music to his ears – another
detail he’d factored in. The whole road was lined with trees. All
stood to attention like centurions doing his bidding.

 

For Jack Murphy it all
happened too quickly. One minute he was on top of the world,
oblivious to Paul Meeks and his murderous intent, and the next his
whole life was spinning off its axle. As the car began its
trajectory towards the line of trees his first thought was of his
wife, and then of Alicia. He didn’t ask why, only that he would see
them again.

A moment later, the only
thing he could think about was the pain. His body was on fire, he
thought it must be to burn so badly. It was difficult to see beyond
the thin layer of red. He hurt so much it was a relief when the
darkness engulfed him.

 

Paul brought his car to a
stop, checking to make sure he was alone before he got out. He
didn’t want to be caught by surprise. The wreckage brought him up
short. He wasn’t seeing the dented front end of an Audi now. It was
a different car entirely. The memory shot out of the dark and
slammed him backwards; he actually took a physical step in
retreat.

He wavered longer than he
should; caught between the desire to see his plan through and the
fear that he would see another face at the wheel.

The pain-filled groan
brought him back to the present with a slap. He stepped forward
again but he couldn’t see Jack’s face, there was too much blood.
Even now, it was pouring from the open wound on his forehead. The
sight didn’t satisfy him as it should – the memories were clouding
his enjoyment.

He waited a moment longer
for any sign of life. There was none. Jack was either unconscious
or dead. Judging from the amount of blood, if he wasn’t, he soon
would be.

The darkness snaked its
way into his brain again. It tugged at him, left him teetering on
the edge. There was only one thing he knew for sure - he couldn’t
quit. Still the memory stabbed at his subconscious. It wasn’t safe
to stay now, so he reversed his steps.

He was anxious to dump
the car and move on. That was his predominant thought as he pulled
onto the road. The sweep of headlights behind him was a siren in
the dark – a reminder of what could happen if he lost control. It
was no doubt a Good Samaritan, who would stop to help
Jack.

He couldn’t think of that
now. He was growing weaker for each minute he fought to keep the
darkness at bay. It helped to work on his breathing, and go over
the steps in his mind.

The route to dispose of
the vehicle was stored and filed away. It was important for him to
keep a clear head in order to follow through. He couldn’t afford to
draw too much attention; with or without his clever
disguise.

A bubble of hysteria rose
in his throat when he realised he’d taken a detour to Jack’s house.
It was the third time he’d seen it - his reaction was just as
severe. The quaint little cottage made him want to drive a truck
right through the front porch.

All thoughts evaporated
when he saw the woman pacing through the large dormer window. She
was anxious, probably trying to quiet the little voice in her head
that told her something was wrong. His face spread into a grin.
Just the very thought of it, of the call that would confirm her
worst nightmare, almost made up for his failure -
almost.

Chapter
1

Alicia Gladstone stood in
her trailer, her temporary home for the next few months, and
allowed the silence to settle around her like a dense fog. Though
the room was moderately sized, it felt like a vacuum – as if
someone had sucked out all the air.

The quiet was shattered
by a series of muffled sobs making their way down the phone line.
Rebecca was barely coherent now. Alicia knew she was supposed to
say something, offer words of encouragement – something. But her
brain was as fuzzy as the reception on the line. The more she
concentrated, the harder she gripped the receiver. The pain
spreading its way through her hand was a welcome distraction; she
used it to ground herself.

"Al, are you still
there?"

This is
not happening again.
"Yes,
I'm here... I'll be with you as soon as I can." She dropped the
phone back into its cradle and sank to her knees. Having lost her
anchor, the shock crept into her heart and took
hold.

She wasn’t the type of
woman to wallow in self pity. She had suffered through her share of
heartache, but she never lost sight of how lucky she was. If she
did she would probably wonder why, just when she’d found a little
happiness, it was taken away again.

The
pain was as familiar as an old friend – one she hadn’t seen in a
while, but who was impossible to forget.
‘Please don’t take Jack away from me. Not
again.’

She tried to focus on the
little things; the thick carpet under her hands, the texture and
feel of the fabric; the couch, her thinking chair, where she spent
hours going through a script. Her heart gave a painful lurch when
she thought of how Jack had been sitting there no more than eight
hours ago. She could picture his excited expression as they talked
about their project; of the fun they would have making their first
film together. Through him, she could relive the thrill of it and
remember why she chose the job – a need to touch people by bringing
a story to life.

As a child she’d
travelled to many places inside her head – became whoever she
wanted to be. It was how she coped with the emptiness in her own
life, of the knowledge that her mother didn’t want her. It wasn’t
easy growing up in a children’s home – it wasn’t a home in any
sense of the word. So she created her own reality where family
meant the friends she picked up along the way.

Some viewed her life as a
series of lucky breaks; others saw her good fortune as the result
of some cunning plan, as if she had somehow deceived her way to the
top. None of them knew about the little girl of five who was taken
from her home without thought for what it cost her. The child who
cried for her three-year old brother every night because she had no
idea where he was or if she would ever see him again. She kept
those parts of herself locked away.

It had taken her twenty
years to find Jack again. By then she had redefined herself. She
had a life that allowed her to carry out her childhood dreams on
the big screen. As an actress she got to play all the people who
had once taken up residence in her head. If she was successful, it
was only because pretending to be someone else was what she
excelled at, something that came as naturally to her as
breathing.

The decision to keep
their relationship a secret hadn’t been her idea, but she respected
Jack’s desire to reconnect without the world watching. She was
judged constantly for the decisions she made, and if that was in
part because she kept the past where it belonged and refused to
justify herself, then she owed her brother that much.

Alicia shook her head,
trying to clear it. Her thoughts were feeding the dread that was
already vying for control; it was a paralysing drug that had robbed
her of all reason.

Somewhere in her mind she
registered the banging on her trailer door, but she confused it
with the pressure building inside her head.

"Ready or not, I'm coming
in!" Stuart Mansfield barked out the threat, even as he was
stepping over the threshold.

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