Against All Odds - Angel's Story: Against All Odds (Destiny Series Book 4)

AGAINST ALL ODDS – ANGEL’S STORY

 

J. L. Perry

 

AGAINST ALL ODDS – ANGEL’S STORY

 

Copyright © 2015 J. L. Perry

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.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the produce of the author’s imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to the actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Melody Simmons of
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Editing by Nicola Rhead of
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Formatted by Max Henry of
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ISBN: 0992529077

ISBN-13: 978-0-99-25290-7-9

BOOKS BY J. L. PERRY

 

Destiny Series.

My Destiny
– Book 1

My Forever
– Book 2

Damaged
– Jacinta’s Story – Book 3

Against All Odds – Angel’s Story – Book 4

Coming soon

A Beautiful Bastard (Standalone read)

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR.

 

Warning - this book contains sexual content, coarse language and some violence. It is recommended for persons over the age of 18.

This book is
dedicated
to two of my readers, who I’m now blessed to call my friends.

Amanda Dean & Rachel Hull,

 

You
inspire me,

You
make me smile,

You
make me laugh.

I’m grateful this journey

led you both into my life.

Thank you for leaving

your footprints on my heart.

To Rachel,

 

A woman that I’m thankful for, every day, that God brought you into my life. You will always be my best book buddy! May your books always be long, and you always fly with your wings wide open.

Love Amanda.

 

PROLOGUE

Angel

 

I have my daddy wrapped around my little finger…or so everyone says. I adore him and couldn’t ask for a better father. We’re extremely close. There’s absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for me. He’s proven that so many times over the last twenty-two years of my life. There’s one thing we cannot see eye to eye on though…that is,
boys.

My dad has managed to scare off every guy I’ve ever brought home. It’s so frustrating. My brother, Chris, has girls over all the time. My dad’s fine with that. When it comes to me though, it seems like nobody is good enough for his little princess. 

That’s how I ended up here in Melbourne. As hard as it was to leave my parents and my little brother, it had to be done. I know my dad loves me, but his overprotectiveness can be smothering at times.

I needed to get away so I could experience all that life has to offer. Which includes
men.
I’m twenty-two years old, and thanks to my father, I’ve never had a serious boyfriend. All my friends lost their virginity years ago. Not me though. Boys were too scared to be around me once word got out that they would have to deal with my dad if they touched me.

When I decided to finish off my schooling down here in Melbourne, my dad fought me at every turn. I’m a grown woman for God’s sake.
It’s time to let go, daddy.
Thankfully I had my mum on my side. She knows firsthand just how overprotective he can be. He’s exactly the same with her.

It took a while for me to adjust to being away from them, but I have to admit, I’m loving my new-found freedom. Well at least I was, until I met Chase-friggin’-Daniels.

He’s the ultimate bad boy; a sinfully hot, tattooed, motorbike-riding playboy. He has an endless supply of beautiful women falling at his feet. There seems to be a different girl on his arm every day, sometimes two. I’m a smart girl. That alone should’ve told me everything I needed to know.
Stay the hell away!
Like his others, I’d fallen victim to his sex appeal and charm.

I should’ve known better.

Chase is every father’s worst nightmare; well mine anyway. Daddy would absolutely freak if he knew I had my eye on a guy like him. Well I did, until he ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
Arsehole.

That was a month ago. I act like I’m over it, but the truth is I’m not. I gave him a part of me that day. A part I’ll never get back. Those few hours I spent with Chase were beautiful, magical. Everything I hoped it would be. Until he got what he wanted of course. Once he’d had his fill, he dressed and walked out of my house without as much as a goodbye.

At first I lay there dumfounded. I kept thinking
he’ll come back
,
he’ll come back,
but when I heard him ride off on his bike, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Once the initial shock wore off, I was left feeling crushed and extremely fucking pissed. I felt dirty and used. It’s quite obvious to me
now;
he was only after one thing. I was stupid for thinking otherwise. What hurts me even more, is the way he’s treated me every day since. It’s like I no longer exist.

Putting those few hours we spent together aside, I thought we were friends. The fact he won’t even talk to me now, cuts me to the very core. I’ve caught him staring at me numerous times since that day. But when our eyes meet he turns away. 

The Chase that walked out on me that day, is not the guy I thought I knew. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to develop feelings for him. Maybe the guy I thought he was, the one I’d began to care about, was just part of an act, his plan all along. Deep down I don’t believe that though. No one can be that good of an actor.

I just don’t get it. How can someone be so sweet, wonderful and loving one minute, and so cold and cruel the next?

I feel like such a fool.

He broke my heart that day and continues to do so. The sad thing is, even after what he did and the way he’s treating me now, I still want him.
I miss him.
How crazy is that?

I’m suffering alone in silence. I can’t even confide in my best friend Dana. I haven’t told her what happened between Chase and I. She warned me from the very beginning to stay away. That he was bad news. A womaniser. Not the guy for me.
Blah, blah, blah.
I should’ve listened. If I did, my heart would still be intact, and possibly, Chase and I would still be friends.

Little did I know this wasn’t the end for us. Not by a long shot. Neither of us could have known the journey that lies ahead. Our lives, our families’ lives, were about to be put to the ultimate test.

They say every family has skeletons in the closet. You know what, I could’ve sworn my family didn’t. They seem too perfect. Well, I was wrong…

 

CHAPTER ONE

One month earlier…

 

Angel

 

Chase and I have only known each other for a few months. But what a wonderful few months they’ve been. I met him a few days after moving here. It took less than a minute for me to know I was attracted to him. No man has ever captivated me the way he does.

He oozes sex appeal. He’s nothing like the rich, preppy guys I grew up with. He’s not only hot as hell, he’s extremely funny and down to earth. He also has that bad-arse rugged side I find way too sexy to resist. All the girls love him and all the guys want to be him.

Initially I was attracted to his looks, but once I got to know him better, I kind of fell in love with his personality.

I still remember the day I first laid eyes on him. He pulled up beside my car in the parking lot at the university. My window was down and the noise from his bike was deafening. I turned my head in annoyance to see who was responsible.

The first thing I saw were two long, muscly denim-clad legs, straddling a shiny black and chrome Harley Davidson motorbike. Images of flames and skulls adorned the black paintwork. My eyes travelled down to his black boots, then back up those sexy, faded ripped jeans, to a tight black T-shirt and an open black leather jacket. You could tell his body was toned. Thoughts of what he’d look like with that shirt removed flooded my mind.
Oh my.

When my eyes finally met his, I think I actually stopped breathing. The face that went with that scrumptious body was…WOW! He was staring down at me. His aviator sunglasses pulled low on his nose, revealing his beautiful eyes which were a stunning shade of dark blue. They reminded me of my favourite place—the ocean. Even his short, messy, darkish sandy brown hair and facial stubble was sexy. He had a cocky panty-dropping smile plastered all over his gorgeous face.
Shit, I think I actually drooled.
I can’t remember anyone ever making me feel the way he did at that moment. The attraction was instant.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” were the first words to leave his mouth. Even his voice was dreamy. I felt my eyes widen at his remark as I inhaled a quick breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding.

Before I got a chance to reply, a tall stunning blonde approached him. She had huge fake boobs, out for the world to see of course. They put mine to shame. My boobs aren’t big or small. Kind of in-between. It’s probably a good thing since I’m an athlete. If my boobs were as big as hers I’d probably give myself black eyes whenever I ran. Which was every day. I got the running gene from my mum. She loves to run too.

Blondie was wearing a tight black dress, if you could even call it a dress. There wasn’t much to it. Being the middle of winter, I’d say she would be freezing her arse off. The lengths some girls will go to for their appearance astounds me. She did have a beautiful figure though.

“Morning baby,” she drawled. My eyes moved from her back to him. He wasn’t paying her an ounce of attention. His eyes were still locked on me. “Do you want to get together later, for a bit of fun?” she added, curling her finger through her hair. He still didn’t look her way. It was like his eyes were glued to me. It sent shivers running through my whole body.

“Chase,” she snapped. I looked over at her again; she was now glaring at me.
Shit.
My first thought was,
she must be his girlfriend.
Wrong. A beautiful redhead then approached. She walked straight over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek, grabbing hold of his crotch and giving it a little squeeze. Jesus. Who does that?

“Morning, Sugar,” she whispered loud enough for all of us to hear. W
ho is this guy?
Like the first girl, he didn’t even acknowledge her. Instead, he pushed her aside and looked down at me again. I was still sitting in my car watching this crazy scene unfold before my eyes.

When the redhead huffed, I looked her way. She was now glaring at me too.
Shit.
It was time for me to get out of there. I quickly grabbed my bag off the passenger seat and exited the car, the whole time trying not to look at the three pairs of eyes that were now trained on me.

I’d never felt so uncomfortable in my life.
I wished I’d taken more time with my appearance this morning.
Next to these two girls I was severely underdressed, or overdressed you might say. I was wearing my favourite pair of skin-tight faded designer denim jeans and a fitted white sweater. There was a pink scarf draped loosely around my neck, matching pink ballet flats on my feet. My long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Nothing flash.

I’m not a real girly girl, never have been. Sure, I have dresses and like to dress up occasionally, but mainly I live in jeans or shorts, depending on the weather. I rarely wear makeup. Even then it’s just mascara and lip gloss. I’m tall and my body is thin. I’m a runner so I’m in really good shape.

After locking up my car, I quickly walked away, trying my hardest not to look at them. I’d only made it a few steps when I heard, “Hey, sweet-cheeks, do you have a name?” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me, so I ignored the comment and kept walking.
Sweet-cheeks.
Really?

I didn’t get very far before he appeared beside me. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” he leaned in and whispered in my ear. Again I got shivers. I continued walking. If he thought I was going to fall at his feet like the other two, he was wrong. Who did this guy think he was? 

He then grabbed hold of my elbow. “Wait up.” I shrugged my arm out of his grasp. “Come on kitten, stop playing hard to get.” Kitten.
Fucking
kitten
. I almost wanted to laugh in his face. This time I stopped walking and turned to face him.

“Kitten?” I said with raised eyebrows, my hands automatically going to my hips. This made him smile.

“I knew you were different,” he breathed as he continued to gaze at me. I had no idea what he meant by ‘different’. Is different good or bad? There was something about the way he looked at me. I can’t explain it, but I liked it. A lot.

“I’m Chase.” He extended his hand out to me.

“Oh really, I thought it was Sugar.” I couldn’t help myself. The words just fell out of my mouth. He burst out laughing and so did I. That was the start of our friendship. A beautiful friendship it was too. While it lasted anyway. He was the first male friend I’d ever had. Except for my brother of course, but he doesn’t count.

It turned out he was studying Law, like me. We had a lot of classes together. He always sat with me, whenever he could. It earned me a lot of female enemies, but I didn’t care.

I was happy to have him as a friend. He was funny and nice and just a great person to be around. His only downfall that I could see, was the male slut part. He seemed to have a different girl, or girls, on his arm daily. I’m not gonna lie, it hurt that he didn’t feel the same way about me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was thankful I had something none of the others had—his friendship.

We even had running in common. He ran at the same track as I did. Sometimes we’d go there together after class. Apart from running and our classes, we didn’t see much of each other. He was too busy screwing around, I guess. I often thought
I’d give anything to be one of those many girls, just for a day, or even an hour.

Even though I was happy for the friendship, it wasn’t enough. The attraction I felt for him was as strong as ever, and growing daily. I was good at hiding it. Chase had no idea. No one did. I’d never shared that with another soul. Just once I’d like to have him touch me the way he touches them. To feel his hands caress my body, his lips against mine. Well I did want that, until I got it. Now I wish it never happened. It’s ruined everything between us. Be careful what you wish for, they say. You got that right.

As I lay here thinking about everything that happened yesterday, tears well in my eyes. I’m surprised I have any left after the hideous amount I shed last night. I
shouldn’t
have got on the back of his bike. I
shouldn’t
have invited him into my home. I
shouldn’t
have given him a piece of myself—I’ll never get that back. I virtually handed my virginity to him on a platter.

Not that I was holding out or anything. I wanted to lose it. I’m twenty-two for God’s sake. If I had my way it would’ve been gone years ago. A big part of me is glad it was him. I couldn’t have asked for a better first time.

It’s what happened afterwards I don’t think I’ll ever get over. Tears start to fall again as memories of the best and possibly worst day of my life, flood my mind.

After class we headed to the track. The beautiful blue sky from earlier had now turned dark and ugly. I knew rain was imminent.
Thinking back now, it was probably trying to warn me of the pending doom that was to come.

We’d only been running for twenty minutes when the sky opened up and it started bucketing down. We both ran towards the car park laughing. The laughing stopped instantly when I noticed I had a flat tyre. Crap.

“What am I going to do?” I asked.

“I can fix it for you, but not in this rain. Let’s get out of here. When it stops I’ll come back and change it.” He walked towards his bike, grabbing the helmet. I was shocked when he passed it to me. “Here, put this on.” I knew he didn’t let women ride on the back of his bike. He told me that many times. So the fact he was inviting me to, was both surprising and thrilling. I’d wanted to get on the back of that baby for ages.
Mistake number one.

As soon as he climbed on I moved in behind him. I shuffled closer so my front was flush with his back, circling my arms around his waist. I heard him sigh when I did that. Maybe he didn’t like me touching him in that way. Too friggin’ bad. I wasn’t about to let go. Instead, I moved in even closer, tightening my embrace. I even rested the side of my face against his big strong back. It was a bit forward of me I know, but if it was going to be the only time I get to have my hands on him, I was going to make the most of it.

Within minutes we arrived back at my house. I’m not sure how he knew where I lived, but he did. We never discussed personal stuff like that.

I reluctantly let go of him, removed the helmet and climbed off the bike. I moved alongside him and handed it back. It was still teeming with rain. I felt bad that he had to ride home in this, so I did something really stupid. I invited him inside, until the rain let up.
Mistake number two.

Of course he accepted. I’m not sure where he lives, as I said before we don’t talk about those sorts of things.

After removing our wet runners and leaving them on the porch, we stepped inside. “You live here by yourself?” he asked.

“Yes. My parents bought it for me when I moved down here,” I answered.

My place is beautiful. It’s on the posh side of town. My dad bought it for me when I decided to move to Melbourne. It backs onto the beach, just like home. That’s what I love most about living here. It not only reminds me of my family and where I grew up, but living by the water is so calming. From the time I was a little girl, there was something about the ocean I connected with. I can’t explain it.

When I was upset or troubled, it was the first place I went. The smell of the ocean, the sound of the crashing waves, the feel of the sun on my skin. I’m not sure what it was, but it helped soothe me. Always has. I’d be lost without it.

My place doesn’t look very big from the outside, but inside it’s spacious. My parents had it professionally decorated for me by an interior designer. It’s open-plan, light and airy. My furniture is white, with splashes of blue and yellow throughout. It has that beachy feel to it. There are four bedrooms, but I’ve turned one into a study. Daddy made sure there was room for them to come and stay. Even though he still has his penthouse here in Melbourne, he insists on staying with me when they fly down, which had been every friggin’ weekend for the first few months.

My mum eventually talked him into cutting that down to at least every second weekend. Don’t get me wrong I love seeing them. I miss them all terribly, but I moved here for a reason—to get a damn social life. It’s a bit hard when they’re here cramping my style every weekend.

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