That Was Then (The Re-Do Series Book 1) (11 page)

Other books by this author

Available on Amazon…

The Taming Series

Taming Mr. Jerkface

Taming Mr. Charming

Taming Mr. Know-it-all

Taming Mr. Darcy

The Seven Realms Series

Genesis

Revelations

The Tree of Knowledge (coming soon)

Love & Reggae

Amid the Noise

Count Me In

Buffalo Soldier

Confessions of A Church Girl

Glass Houses

Fitting In

Standing Out

Standalone

Whiter Than Snow

Married By Science

Tsea

Fool Me Never

Audrey’s Choice

Scarlet

Love In Many Shades Series

Cece & David

Cece & David 2

Cece & David 3

Boyfriend By Series

Boyfriend By Blackmail

Boyfriend By Midnight

Boyfriend By Design

Read on for an excerpt from the second book in the Re-Do Series:

THIS IS NOW

Chapter 1

One week ago, the only thing I worried about was getting through Valentine’s Day without curling into a fetal position while hugging a package of Oreos.

Ah, those were the days.

Life changed drastically when Lula, my Isuzu Trooper, broke down one morning when I really, really needed her to work. Then again, it could be the meat pie splotch I was rocking that did the real changing.

I guess it was a group effort.  Together, the chain of unfortunate circumstances led to me sharing an elevator with Alistair Howard.

I, obviously (meat-pie-face and all), made an impression. He (GQ-magazine-ready-face and all) did a number on me. We went out on one date.
One
. It was all it took for my entire world to turn completely upside down.

Here’s just a little summary.

1. We were attacked by Maveth, Alistair’s crazy ex-rival.

2. I intentionally rammed my truck into said rival.

3. Alistair and I (but mostly Alistair) kidnapped Maveth and took him to a secret training room in a well.

4. Maveth unloaded a bunch of secrets and then killed himself.

5. Maveth actually faked his death and now he wants to kill me. Well, and Alistair too.

Did I forget to mention? Alistair is an assassin.

See! Total craziness!
This
is why I don’t date!

Things moved quickly after the revelation that Maveth was still alive. Alistair insisted that I collect all my vacation days from La Ruba and flee the country immediately. It was no longer safe to stay at home. Rooming with anyone else would put them in jeopardy too.

Fortunately, I had an opportunity to leave without spending a dime. My cousin Charlie has ties with
Dust and Ashes
, a famous reggae band. Alistair brought her into the fold and told her about his secret life.

After throwing her shoe at him, my cousin agreed to help put in a good word with the band. Thanks to Charlie and Trey, Charlie’s boyfriend, I got a gig as the
Dust and Ashes
live-in chef. It’s been a dream so far.

You know… if I ignore the potential death threat hanging over me all the time.

“Keep glaring into space and you’ll wrinkle.”

I glance up just as Damien Chen flings himself into the seat beside me. I still have no idea how he convinced Trey, Will, Jace and Morgan to let him come along. I was quite vocal about the unnecessary addition of a personal body guard. Especially one of
them.

To be fair, Damien doesn’t look or act like what I’d assumed an assassin to be. He’s young, cheery, and cracks jokes like nobody’s business. It’s easy to forget that he
murders
for a living. I don’t see how anyone would be okay with that.

I don’t know him from Adam, and I don’t trust him either. I’m still iffy about trusting Alistair too, but at least I can count on him based on our past experiences.

Damien’s been trying his best to get me to loosen up around him. It’s kind of sweet, but I just can’t get past the moral barrier soaring between us.

He murders. That’s wrong. I don’t agree with it.

I don’t see how we can be friends.

“Yeah,” I shift uncomfortably. “You’re probably right.”

Damien sighs and stretches his long legs. Okay, if you
must
know Damien’s kind of cute. I mean, if you’re into the hot, Asian assassin types. I’ve got enough relationship problems with Alistair to last me a lifetime, so I’d never entertain thoughts of Damien.

But I’ve got eyes… and my eyes don’t mind looking at him.

“Why do you always wake up so early?” Damien taps his long, slim fingers against the tabletop.

I glance out the window to keep from looking at him as I speak.

“It’s a habit. I had to get to the hotel by five-thirty in the morning so I could start baking.”

“Wow,” Damien yawns. “That sucks.”

“Mm-hm.”

Awkward silence fills the cab. I focus on the window, pretending that I’m deep in thought. The scenery rolling by is quite beautiful in the pink strains of the sunlight.
Dust and Ashes
is rolling into Wales, which is a country near Great Britain.

The coast is gorgeous. Frothy white waves curl against brown rocks. The hills are covered with green, bringing to mind majestic kings in emerald robes. I’m not too keen on the circumstances that brought me here, but I’m kind of glad that I have this opportunity.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world, but believed that I couldn’t until I either married a rich man or waited for retirement. Being marked by a crazed assassin was the third option. I guess beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to opportunities like this.

Wales is the first stop on the
Dust and Ashes
tour. I’m excited to see the sights and to participate in the concert.

That’s right. I’m an honorary member of the band. When the group plays
Laugh Belize
, I get to play the tambourine. Am I a star or what?

Damien clears his throat, bringing me back to the present. His voice is a filled with exasperation.

“Kendall, Alistair asked me to take care of you. I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.”

I frown. That’s another strike against Damien. Alistair insisted that the only person he trusted enough to ‘protect’ me was his assassin buddy. I get that, but if some mercenary wants me dead, I’m not sure what Damien can do about it.

I saw the way Maveth threw those knives at us when we were in the parking lot of
Paparrazi’s
. If I’d moved a centimeter in the wrong direction, I would have been sliced like a salmon.

Damien is asking way too much of me this early in our acquaintance. I have to find some way to get over his occupation and then maybe I can let him in. I just don’t see that happening anytime soon.

A snarky remark aches to burst from my lips, but I don’t want to get on this man’s bad side. I’ve never seen any assassin-like tendencies from Damien (whatever those are). But obviously someone so wishy-washy about human life, won’t think twice about taking mine.

I don’t want to get on his bad side.

Instead of the comment that pops into my head, I choose to remove myself from the conversation.

“I have to start baking. Do you mind?”

He sits upright, bringing his long legs away from the only path through the table. I pass him awkwardly and then silently head for the section of the tour bus that hosts the stove, oven, and regular amenities of a kitchen.

I know that Damien is getting frustrated with me. He’s been rather direct with his feelings. He and Alistair are like brothers. I know he wants us to get along. And if Damien was a regular bodyguard or something, we probably would.

But he’s not.

Damien is an assassin. Unlike Alistair, who no longer goes around killing people, Damien unapologetically claims the title. What would we have in common?

All I want right now is for Alistair to complete his mission and come home safely. When it comes to mercenaries, assassins, and general craziness, Alistair Howard is the only man that I’m willing to bet on.

A
listair

I pull the cap lower over my head and zip my leather jacket to the neck. The air is chilly in the cab of the train, but I seem to be the only one affected. The tropical air in Belize has spoiled me. I am no longer used to the chilling temperatures of my homeland.

I snap my newspaper wide and subtly glance around. The other passengers on the train seem unaffected by the cold. To my left, a woman rocks her baby in her arms. The child was fussy when we began our journey in London, but has since calmed.

To my right, a man in a suit stirs his cup of coffee and reads from a tablet. He has been engrossed in the device from the minute we began our journey. I haven’t seen his eyes since boarding the train. His behavior seems innocent enough, but I have him flagged.

The other Londoners riding along to the countryside are in various jackets and coats. Most are sleeping. Some, like the businessman, are occupied with mobile devices. I keep my eye on them all. Assassins can easily blend into any space. I refuse to be caught off-guard.

The businessman lifts his arm. I stiffen, my hand darting to the knife in the pocket of my jacket in preparation. Instead of revealing a weapon, the stranger simply covers his mouth as he yawns. My heartbeat manages to return to normal when I realize that he poses no threat.

I’m upset by my jumpiness. The time away from this life has turned me soft.

For the past two years, I’ve travelled the world. I trekked through the mountains of Indonesia, lived aboard a cargo ship trekking through the Indian Ocean. I hiked through the jungles of Venezuela and experienced the Northern Lights in Greenland.

At first, I travelled in fear. I refused to trust anyone. Every person I came into contact with was a threat. Eventually, I learned to put my suspicious nature to rest. It was not easy. Paranoia is an important asset to any assassin. Danger and death are the side-effects of the job, no matter how long a member has been inactive.

For a time, I entertained the idea of being free from the fear. Free to pursue a normal life. I fooled myself into thinking that I could possibly settle down with a good woman. Someone like Kendall.

I force the thought from my mind. Kendall and I were over before we had ever really begun. And even if our feelings had had time to mature, I cannot be around her. For her own protection, I must draw Maveth and all the other assassins as far away from Kendall Villanueva as possible.

As strongly as I try to turn the tide of my thoughts away from her, I cannot. Kendall is my weakness and yet she is my strength. I draw courage when I think of the lengths I will go to protect her. Yet, I become distracted when my mind traces her face.

Kendall’s beauty cannot be denied. Her wide, intelligent eyes, curly hair, and creamy brown skin are enough to get any man’s attention. When he draws closer, however, he will find a gem so sweet and precious that he cannot help but fall in love.

What I feel for her cannot be explained by words. The connection between us is so powerful that even from miles away, with no contact at all, I know that she must be thinking of me. Whatever I feel for her, my highest priority is keeping her safe.

The only way to do that is to find Maveth before he finds Kendall. I did not take his note lightly. Maveth has found my vulnerabilities. He, and any other assassin that he is in league with, can use that information as leverage.

It is why I employed Damien to protect Kendall. Damien is more than capable of keeping her safe. I trust him completely as he has proven before that he is worthy of that confidence. Now, I trust him with something more valuable than my life.

Kendall’s.

The train begins to slow. Its iron wheels screech as it rests in front of the station . I stand and allow the mother and her baby to trek before me. The businessman gathers his trash and stuffs his tablet into a case. I keep my hand on the dagger hidden in my jacket, waiting as he slips into the crowd and walks away.

It seems I worried for nothing.

I disembark from the train and step into the busy terminal. The scent of fish and chips wavers through the cold air. Children scamper about in coats and scarves. A musician strums his guitar, allowing the calming sound to weave around the cacophony of voices.

It has been a while since I’ve stood in this land. Thought I’ve travelled to far and exotic places, I’ve always steered clear of returning to Britain. I have no life here. No ties. My parents are gone. My grandmother is buried in the church yard.

All that belongs to me can be found in a graveyard. The realization is depressing, but I must investigate Maveth’s claims. In exchange for the nightlock, Maveth offered me answers to three questions.

During the interrogation, he claimed that my father sent him on this mission. It was hard news to swallow. Given that Maveth later faked his own death, it is even harder to believe.

Still, his confession was so outrageous I fear there must be some merit to it. Of all the things he could have said, insisting that my father pulled the strings on his mission to kill me is too far-fetched to take lightly.

I catch a cab and direct the driver through the gloomy countryside to the place of my birth. The poor man seems confused when he stops before a weathered structure.

“You sure this is the place?” he asks in a thick accent.

“Yes,” I nod my head and pay the fare.

He shrugs his shoulders and reverses, leaving me alone in the quiet countryside. I take a deep breath, allowing my memories to reconstruct the house that once stood here.

It was a manor, not too large. The door was green. The windows barred by white shutters. The attic was my favorite place to explore. I would throw the small oval window open and look out into the forest across the way.

I blink and the image clears. I see the gloomy, grey sky in the background. Charred wood sticks haphazardly into the air. Grass pops up from the ill-maintained lawn. The doorway still stands, but the door has been wrenched by the wind and by time.

Fear grips my chest as I step forward. I’ve managed to cut down opponents that were bigger than I, stronger, faster. Facing the past is far more intimidating. What will I do if I find evidence of my father’s life?

What will I do if he is indeed the puppet master who has marked me for death?

I lift my head and straighten my shoulders. The demons of my past cannot live. If I shy away from this mission now, Kendall will die. With renewed confidence, I stride into the charred manor.