Read Getting the Edge: Betrayed Book 1 Online
Authors: Hope Welsh
Getting the Edge: Betrayed Book 1
Getting
The
Edge
by
Hope Welsh
Copyright
No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without the permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance between persons living and dead, establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Hope Welsh
Cover Art © 2015 ninjaMel Designs
ISBN 978-1-890785-77-2
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wonderful street team. My lovely ladies have stood by me since
Linked
first came out. A special shout-out for Tammy H., Laura F., and Jess H. for being wonderful! I couldn’t have done it without you three awesome ladies!
I also would like to dedicate this book to my daughter, as it would not be published if she hadn’t nagged me to write the story I’d been telling her about for so long.
Prologue
He was getting out.
Brandon Walsh looked at the cell that had kept him captive for two years.
Because he’d been a cop, he’d been kept in protective custody. That was a nice way to say that he’d spent twenty-three hours a day inside a cage alone with little else other than his thoughts to keep him occupied.
His attorney, Kevin Henson, had told him that he’d appeal the conviction, and that it wasn’t over, but it had been. Kevin had been the only one he’d seen for the entire time. His so-called friends had not bothered to visit, that was for sure.
Though, he guessed he couldn’t blame them. Who’d want to visit a man that’d been convicted of beating a woman nearly to death?
Hell, if he thought about it, he was damn lucky he’d only spent a year in this cage, all things considered.
He stood and paced to the door of his cell.
Never would he forget the look on Amanda’s face as he’d ran into the ER the night she’d been attacked.
The next thing he knew, he was being cuffed and Mirandized. Felonious Assault. At least the attempted murder hadn’t stuck.
No, Mandy hadn’t wanted him in prison for decades, apparently, and had refused to say she’d thought he’d intended to kill her.
As if that was supposed to make a difference. She’d still ruined his life. Ended his career.
He’d find her. He’d get his answers.
Because there were two things Brandon knew.
He hadn’t beaten her to a pulp.
But, someone had certainly done so—and with Amanda’s help, framed him for it.
Kevin had tried to keep track of her, but she’d managed to disappear.
That was okay.
He was a good tracker.
Chapter One
Amanda climbed from her bed with a tired sigh. She didn’t need to look at the calendar to know that Brandon had been out of prison for a week now. She didn’t need to look in the mirror on her closet to know that she looked stressed. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a knot at the back of her neck; otherwise, it knotted when she slept. Her blue eyes, she knew, held shadows beneath them almost the color of the eyes themselves. And she’d lost weight, weight she hadn’t needed to lose.
Would he come after her?
She shook her head. That was a silly question. There was little doubt he’d come after her—if he could find her.
As she padded to the bathroom, she grabbed her clothes for the day. Another day of college. Higher Education.
That was a laugh. It was the absolute last place she wanted to be. Still, it was a good place to hide. There were thousands of students on the campus, and she’d changed her last name.
In all the time she’d spent with Brandon, she’d never once mentioned going to school to him, though he’d tried to tell her that she should get her degree in education.
She turned on the shower and stripped out of her sweats. She had a class she didn’t even want to attend in a little over thirty minutes, so she’d have to hurry. Not that it took her long, she mused as she stepped into the shower stall.
Rarely did she bother with make-up and the like. She might be around the same age as most of the other students—twenty-three—but she was years older in experience. And she certainly wasn’t looking for the hook-ups many girls in college were. Her only goal was to hide. She showered quickly, and then shut off the water.
Wrapped in a towel, she went back to her room and grabbed the first things she saw in the closet—a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. It really didn’t matter what she looked like. Just so she didn’t stand out and didn’t draw attention to herself.
Fifteen minutes later, book bag in hand, she was on her way to English. She always sat near the back of the large class. She never raised her hand to answer questions, but she made sure that she did well in her classes. No, she couldn’t draw attention to herself, but she did want to do well. Failing or skipping the courses would draw scrutiny, too.
Maybe, some day, this nightmare would be over and she could have a real life again. A life where she didn’t have to look over her shoulder, though she certainly wasn’t holding her breath that the life she’d always wanted was even possible.
As the professor droned on, she took notes, but soon, those notes turned to doodles. The class bored her to tears, if she was honest with herself. She already knew the material, probably almost as well as the prof did.
Once, English had been her favorite subject. She’d loved literature in all its forms.
Now, it was simply a class she was required to take and pass to earn the degree she didn’t really want.
“Ms. Wilson, can you tell us, please, what Shakespeare meant when he said that?”
Amanda snapped out of her musings. “Excuse me?”
Professor Simons had never called on her before like this. What was going on? What was he even talking about? She realized she hadn’t even been really paying attention to the lecture at all.
“What did Shakespeare mean?” he repeated, clearly irritated.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. How could she? She had no clue which of Shakespeare’s quotes he was referring to, and wasn’t about to ask. “I guess my mind was wandering, Professor Simons.”
“I’d like to see you after class, Ms. Wilson,” he said.
She flushed, but nodded, with her heart pounding. Something was wrong. Why did he want to talk to her? She was sure she was passing the class. She’d aced the mid-term and had gotten an A on the report she’d done as well.
One off day at the college level shouldn’t promote him calling her out like that. It was all she could do not to get up and run from the room.
But she didn’t.
She listened as another student answered the question—which she’d known the answer to, after all—and made sure she didn’t let her mind wander again.
Against her will, she jumped when students started to rise at the end of the class. Hesitantly, she walked up to the front of the lecture hall. “I’m sorry, Professor,” she began. “I guess I didn’t get enough sleep and my mind wandered. It won’t happen again.”
Professor Simons sat at the desk and looked up at her, his expression thoughtful. “Is something bothering you, Amanda?” he asked gently.
Amanda felt tears burn, but didn’t dare let them fall. Don’t draw attention to yourself; she repeated the mantra in her mind. “No. Just a lot of work to get through.”
It was obvious that he didn’t believe her by the look on his face.
Would she have to leave school? What if the other instructors were talking about her? She couldn’t afford to have that happen.
“Well, I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll let you go. Just remember that, okay?”
“Um. Sure. Thanks. Everything is fine,” she said quickly.
She left the room before he could say more and decided to skip her next class.
Maybe it was time to consider moving on? Perhaps coming to school had been a bad plan, after all. She was in her second year, and was doing okay, but if she was honest with herself, her heart just wasn’t in it.
When she walked back into her room, she was surprised to find a girl waiting by her door. Once more, her heartbeat accelerated. “Can I help you?” she asked, her tone stiff.
“Oh hi! I’m Tracy. I was told that I’d be sharing this dorm room with you,” she said brightly.
Amanda was shaking her head before the perky Tracy, in her short-shorts and tank top, wearing three-inch heels, finished. “There’s some mistake, Tracy. This is a single. There isn’t even a second bed in here.”
“Oh, I know,” Tracy assured her. “But the RA said that the dorm was full, so they are doubling up. I’m sure it won’t be for too long.”
Great
. They’d gotten her a roommate in a room that was barely big enough for a twin bed and a desk. “Oh.” What else could she say? With a reluctant sigh, she unlocked the door to the room. “
Me casa es tu casa,
” she said with a forced smile in first-year Spanish.
Tracy smiled brightly and skipped into the room.
Seriously, do girls really skip?
Amanda stopped before shutting the door. Tracy may have looked like a bubble-headed eighteen-year-old—but one thing was missing, she suddenly realized. The girl didn’t have any baggage with her, which put her on alert. She stood by the open door. “Where’s your stuff?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s down in my car. I didn’t want to make the trip with it, just in case you weren’t around,” Tracy said easily as she walked to Mandy’s bed and plopped herself onto the edge.
“Isn’t it a bit late for new students?” That had bothered her, too. It was already past mid-point in the semester. There is no way a new student could catch up.
“I’ve been talking classes online, so I’m just coming to finish them up at campus.”
Amanda decided she needed to talk to the RA. What if Brandon had sent her? Worse, what if those after her had? “Oh. Well, I’m late for class. I’ve got to go. Make yourself comfortable,” she added a bit dryly, since it was obvious Tracy had done just that.
“Thanks! I’ll go get my stuff and have them bring me a bed. I’m sure we’ll be great friends!” she called cheerily as Mandy closed the door.
“Don’t count on it,” Mandy said under her breath as she headed for the RA’s room.
Something just didn’t feel right…
Chapter Two
Brandon stood outside the gates, waiting for Kevin to come pick him up. He’d gathered quite a few books over the last year, but had left most of them for the other inmates to read in the library.
All he’d brought with him were his personal possessions, which were few and far between. Hopefully, Kevin would bring his car. He was looking forward to being behind the wheel again.
He looked up at the sky—and took a deep breath of the first free air he’d breathed in twenty-four long months.
He’d had on jeans and a T-shirt when he’d been arrested, and though Kevin had, of course, brought him a suit for the trial, he’d found no need to have it sit in the prison for two years. He’d only kept the clothes he’d had with him the day he’d been arrested.
The shoes he wore now had been a pair of his favorites, but his feet weren’t used to the quality leather.