Bare (4 page)

Classes were done. I was free from college for three whole months. Luckily, I had a place to hang out while I figure out my life. A safe place.

I got out of testifying. They said I wasn't a strong enough witness due to my impaired state. I told them I could identify anyone they wanted me to, but the case was strong enough without me: the entire warehouse full of prescription drugs and over two million in cash. Hudson had given them all of that. And he still had a lot more to tell them. In exchange, he had complete immunity. He was free to do whatever he wanted as long as he stayed in France, and out of the United States for two years. I'd flown out here as soon as the trial was over, after I finished taking my finals. Hudson hadn’t been able to go back to the university to work, so all of us just got a pass/fail on the class. I got lucky with that one; physics was kicking my ass.

“Miss, would you like a refill?” A maid was offering me more lemonade as I sat on a chase lounge overlooking the ocean. I pulled up my floppy hat, and down my sunglasses to make eye contact with her. I felt like that was important with the staff. They were people, and I treated them that way.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” She took my glass, and refilled it, using the pitcher of lemonade I had made earlier in the day.

Hudson was still making deals, but I didn't know anything about it anymore, and my ignorance was complete bliss. I got to stay on the beach all day and read books while overlooking the ocean, instead of worrying about Russian mobsters, and if my boyfriend’s deals were going to go bad. I couldn't help but wonder if every day he wouldn’t come home because he had a bullet in his head. But he wasn't making prescription deals anymore; he was making more deals with the feds. He had clients and connections on every continent, and he was turning on all the bad ones. He knew that if he ever ended up in jail or any type of government facility that he'd be a dead man, but he also wanted to uncover all of the illusions about prescription drugs, and who was using them. So many of his clients were hospice patients; people with big money, but who were not getting what they needed.

The maid put the glass back down, and I took a long sip, allowing the sweet liquid to go down my throat. She walked away with a smile on her face. I watched her carefully from beneath my glasses, and, as I set down my magazine, I felt for the gun underneath my chair. I was a girl who kept a gun now. For protection. Because there were still people out there who would come for me, and I wouldn’t be anyone’s victim ever again.

I had gotten so lucky falling in love with Hudson James. I thought about the man he had become. Even though he sold drugs for a living, and he's wanted by the Russian mob. I couldn't help the way I feel about him. He knows all my secrets, and I finally know his. And I love him for it. He'll destroy me in the end. But it will have all been worth it.

It already has.

Do you like fast cars and sexy men with tattoos?

Then be ready for Collision, coming to you Summer 2015.

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Kelley Carson is successful, beautiful, and celibate. But that last part certainly isn’t by choice. Seems every time Kelley meets someone who might be able to help her scratch her physical itch something always goes terribly wrong.  
Then she meets Lawson; a hot real estate attorney, who by the looks of him doesn’t have a problem getting ladies into bed, and she desperately wants him to take her home.
Will she make it through one date without totally screwing it up? Or will she go home alone again?

An excerpt from Kelley Diaries (Lawson):

So I call this portion of my diary “Lawson” because it’s all about Lawson, that guy I met in the bar on Ladies’ Night. Yeah I met a guy on Ladies’ Night. Guys actually still come to those things. It’s not all just a bunch of women, that’s what I mostly thought it would be. Actually come to think of it, before meeting Lawson, I had a rather portly woman buying me drinks. I don’t think she honestly thought I was going home with her, but thinking back on it, maybe that brush on my butt was more of a love tap. Hmmm I wonder if I still have Joyce’s number around here somewhere.

But anyway, after Joyce had bought me drink number three and we were having a rather in depth conversation about the latest episode of The Bachelor I had to excuse myself to use the rest room.

“Be right back,” I said holding my drink up to her. She winked back and raised her Miller Lite at me.  Geez how did I not see that love connection before?

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