Learning to Love Again Read online

  By

  Cynthia P. O’Neill

  * * * *

  Learning to Love Again

  Book Three in the Learning Series

  Copyright © 2014 by Cynthia P. O’Neill

  Cover design by Once Upon a Time Covers

  Edited by Erin Roth, Wise Owl Editing

  Formatting by JT Formatting

  Cover Model: James D. Magnessun

  Photographer: Ashley Darling

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  I didn’t want to leave Laurel by herself to sleep. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and hold her as tight as possible. As long as that bastard was on the loose, I wouldn’t rest knowing that my happiness could be snatched away from me at any moment. I would protect Laurel and my unborn child with everything I had, including my life.

  I turned towards the front of the airplane’s cabin, needing to get all the information I could obtain from my security detail. Thompson and Dillon were each in heavy discussion on the phone, trying to call in favors to get some leads on what happened with Chase Peterson and where his father, Walt Peterson, might be hiding. I wanted all the information I could gather, including family relatives and contacts—anyone who could give us an idea where we might be able to find them.

  Thompson was the first to get off the phone. “Sir, the weather reports for the night of your parents’ fatal car crash showed that conditions were not favorable for ice on the road. When things didn’t add up, we went snooping and found large sums of money changing hands leading us to believe the accident was staged. We hit a piece of luck when we stumbled on your parents’ old car at a yank it, pull it car lot. Somehow, the car was rusty and smashed, but still intact like the day it was brought to the junkyard, minus a few pieces from the engine. We had a forensics team search every inch of the car and compare their findings with the photos from the scene.”

  I knew he was thorough, but get to the point already. “And?”

  “They’d been wearing their seatbelts; there were marks against their skin, noted by the medical examiner’s photos, indicating the belts had cut into them as the car rolled. The brakes had been tampered with, leaking fluid, so when they reached the sharp curve of the road, the brakes failed and they weren’t able to negotiate the oil spot that had been left for them, forcing them to go over the embankment and their car to roll.”

  His voice was giving out as Dillon took over. “The forensics team said that the position of the bodies in coordination with the crash was off. Had they not been wearing their seatbelts, the crash might have been believable, but the traces of blood they found on both the steering wheel and dash, along with bloody handprints on the car doors, indicate they survived the crash.”

  “So how did they die?” I could feel the papers curl up in my fists, wanting to wring the neck of the person responsible for taking my family away from me.

  “Our belief is their necks were broken, but not from the crash—by force. The bruising around the neck shows both strangulation and excessive force. I’m sorry, sir,” Dillon apologized.

  “Let me guess, the medical examiner was in on this?”

  Both of the men nodded in agreement.

  “He’d received a large amount of cash deposited in his account during the time of his investigation,” Dillon confirmed. “We were able to link the account to a couple of shell companies created in other countries that linked back to Walt Peterson.”

  “Why did he go to so much trouble? It couldn’t have been all for that stupid promotion.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Thomas said. “It wasn’t just the promotion that was at stake for Mr. Peterson. His grandfather had disowned his son and was willing his entire fortune to Walt if he proved his worth in the workplace. He’d messed up numerous times in his grandfather’s eyes and this was his last chance at inheritance. All he needed was the—”

  “Promotion!” The words escaped my mouth in a rush. No wonder the bastard was freaking out and going off on my father. All the memories of that night came rushing back into my mind full force.

  “Yes, sir. After your father died, the promotion was his. But, it doesn’t stop there. He stole your father’s new security designs and passed them off as his own.”

  I took a deep breath in, trying to control the anger that was beginning to rage inside me. “What about my aunt? I didn’t get that far with the reading material you provided.”

  “Your aunt had great intuition,” Thompson said. “She had begun collecting evidence to dispute the claim of an accident. She questioned the authorities and they told her to mind her own business, but she persisted with a detective. He was beginning to make some headway when he had a large deposit suddenly appear in his personal bank account.” He placed his hands on the table, indicating his sudden discomfort with the news. “A few days later, she apparently had a visit from the detective warning her off the case and to just forget about things. She’d gone to the local police, sheriff’s station, and even to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement over her findings and the threats, but was dismissed by one of the lead investigators, citing the detective’s exemplary work record was flawless. Sadly, Walt seemed to have enough people, in his pocket, working for him that he could get by with almost anything.”

  My neck began to stiffen as I finally saw the links they were putting in place before me. “Let me guess, the investigator was Detective Avery Jenkins? The one who Walt Peterson just had killed?”

  “Your reasoning is correct,” Thompson confirmed. “Apparently, he was on the payroll for more than one cover-up. What better way to keep an eye on possible trouble than to have him work closely with your aunt?”

  I could only guess where this was leading. “So Lydia’s accident was anything but?”

  “She wasn’t the intended target, sir,” Dillon cut in. “You were.”

  My eyes widened in horror. “Me?! Why? How? What proof do you have?”

  “As you already know, the car was found abandoned
in a junkyard, with evidence of her blood on the grill. The VIN, registration papers, and other identifying aspects were removed and there were no fingerprints found inside the vehicle or on the exterior of the car. But our team did a thorough search and found several partial prints on the underbelly of the car where the owner must have changed the oil. Thanks to modern day forensics and computer records, we were able to track down the owner of the car and visited his residence. He’d passed away a couple years back, but our team found a copy of one of his journal entries, where he begged for forgiveness. He’d taken money from a strange man to run you over. He hadn’t intended to hit the woman and leave her for dead in the street, but he was desperate to care for his ailing wife and children. He needed the money to help save his wife’s life by offering to take yours.”

  “Un-fucking-believable! But why me?”

  “You knew too much, sir,” Thompson admitted sadly. “You witnessed the exchange of words and threats from Mr. Peterson. When your aunt started asking questions, he knew you could place him at their residence, so he wanted you gone. When your aunt got hit instead, he laid off until things died down, but was still intent on getting you until he lost track of your whereabouts.”

  I could feel my brows furrow at his words. “What do you mean lost track of my location?”

  “He didn’t know you were taken in by the Waters family and later adopted by them after your aunt passed. But, he did get to your aunt.” Thompson swallowed hard, and I knew this next part would be big. “Your father…Dr. Waters, I mean, said he could never understand why your aunt didn’t pull through, that all indications from her files showed she was getting better, stronger, despite the insurance issues. He had personally seen her onto an insurance that would help continue her treatment, until she took a turn for the worse and you know the rest of the story. Toxicology results showed trace amounts of a naturally occurring poison, arsenic, in her system, most likely induced through the food or tea she consumed while in the hospital. The symptoms she exhibited prior to her death all point to this happening.”

  “Did she know? Is that why she pushed for the adoption?” Her actions before her death always left me wondering what was really going on—was she disappointed in me and just wanted me out of her life? Did she blame me for her accident?

  “She suspected, sir, even asking to speak to the head nurse and doctor, but they dismissed her claims,” Thompson explained. “Your father stood by her, insisting on blood work and being shot down by the head of neurosurgery, who got a generous donation towards his research around that time.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, feeling all the anxiety about being the cause of my family’s death lift off my shoulders. It was like I could breathe for the first time, knowing, for a fact, I wasn’t to blame. “I can’t believe I’m not responsible for their deaths,” I said under my breath. “Wait a minute...” A thought suddenly occurred to me. “You said that my dad kept insisting on blood work for my aunt? Then does that mean he knows something?”

  Thompson and Dillon spoke in unison. “Yes.”

  “Get my father on the line immediately!” I couldn’t help but yell; to think he knew something all this time and didn’t bother to enlighten me.

  Thompson hesitated. “I don’t mean to question you, sir, but you might want an opportunity to calm down and think about why your father went to such extremes. From what he’s told us, he made a promise to Lydia to keep you safe and hide the truth, so there was no risk to your life. It was her dying wish for the truth to be buried with her.”

  I reached back to rub my neck and stretch it, feeling a headache coming on. “You’re right. Today has already had enough drama to last me a lifetime. I’ll wait until we can talk in a calm and private manner. There’s no need for us all blowing up at one another right now, especially around Laurel.” I paused and looked between them. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

  I watched as they both looked at one another, as if daring the other to speak. Dillon was the first to budge.

  “Mr. Peterson didn’t just steal your father’s security designs, he also stole the security internet features your whole family was collaborating on and passed it off as his. From what we gather, he made a fortune off of it, and along with the inheritance from his grandfather he was able to buy the company before moving it up to New Jersey.”

  I slammed my hand down on the table to try and relieve some pent up aggression, wishing I had Walt and Chase as a punching bag instead. “Find out all you can about Peterson Securities. See what their financial statistics, net worth, and sales look like. Also, see if any underhanded deals have transpired. I don’t want to walk into a hornet’s nest, but I wouldn’t mind taking back what should have been my father’s legacy.”

  I got up to check on Laurel when a realization hit. “I need a little clarification here. Walt Peterson had left me alone after I was adopted and the records were sealed. Over twenty years have passed and not one hint of trouble. So why, after all this time, did he start back on destroying my life?”

  Thompson tried to avoid the question, so I focused my attention to Dillon, who spilled after only a moment of my hard stare. “We aren’t 100% sure, but we think it all relates back to Laurel. You might want to sit back down for the rest, sir.”

  My mouth hung open as “why?” managed to escape my lips.

  “We did some digging into Walt’s personal life and discovered quite a few issues. Chase may have been taken with Laurel initially because she bears a strong resemblance to his late mother. Apparently she committed suicide when he was only eight and it has haunted him most of his life. The records we were able to dig up show that his father blamed him for his mother’s death and had his son committed to psychiatric therapy for several years.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. This was definitely a mind fuck! “So let me get this straight. Chase was enamored with Laurel because she looks like his mother?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you have a picture?” I had to know just how strong the resemblance was and what I was dealing with. Dillon turned his laptop around to reveal someone who could nearly pass as Laurel’s doppelganger. “No wonder the fucker is enamored by her.” What the hell was I going to do with this information?

  “So I’m guessing that when she started dating me, he told his father and that’s how I came back onto his radar?”

  Dillon nodded as Thompson said, “That is our belief, sir. One of the housekeeping staff heard Walt dismissing his son’s adorations towards Laurel and tried convincing him to give up his foolish fantasies. Apparently Chase was going to track her down and try convincing her to give “their love” a chance. Walt was against it until your name came up. Apparently, he’d stopped searching for you a long time ago, but when he heard the last name Andrews, he flew off the handle and offered up his best men so Chase could start searching for her so she could lead him to you.”

  I scrubbed my face with my hand, trying to think of all the options I could use to keep Laurel and our unborn child safe. “I want some false passports and records created so Laurel and I can travel as a couple under an assumed name. Pick up some disposable burner phones, create or buy, whatever you need. I want the works, including some for both of you, and a select few of the staff. I don’t want Laurel to be aware of any of this; she doesn’t need the added stress. Here’s how I want this to play out…”

  My mind was restless as I tried to sleep, flashing images of everything that had happened at the bus terminal earlier today. I was overwrought by all the changes that had occurred in my life within the past six months and felt emotionally drained as a result. Every time I started to calm down, I’d hear Chase’s voice cry out, “Where’s my wife?!” To say he was delusional was an understatement, but how did he get to this point?

  I knew running away was risky and I’d hoped to avoid Chase. I guess he proved more cunning than I had originally thought. How was I to explain that I’d run so I could find some semblance of order?
/>   I felt stifled by everything that had happened. It took me a while to reach the point where I was ready to live my life again and try to trust that not all men were bad. Garrett helped me realize how a woman should be treated and cared for. He offered me comfort, love, purpose, protection, and a reason to trust and let go of the past. But just when I thought I had moved on, my past reared its ugly head in the form of Chase Peterson, a constant reminder that I had to live my new life being watched.

  I would not live my life in continued fear. I was determined to enjoy each day with Garrett to the fullest and hope for the best, but something about the look on Chase’s face still haunted me. He used to be an egotistical asshole, but he did care about his swim team and his studies. At one point he was my protector, but he became my nightmare. I sometimes wonder why he took advantage of me and if there were others out there who suffered from his advances. If so, why isn’t he continually following them? Why is he so focused on me? It’s almost like he’s on a mission.

  I could feel my body shivering over the thoughts roaming around in my mind and soon felt the comfort of an extra blanket being pulled over me and the warmth of a warm body surrounding me. I jumped at the contact of an arm wrapping around my waist.

  “No need for alarm, darling, it’s just me,” Garrett whispered softly into my ear as he placed a gentle kiss along the side of my neck.

  I opened my eyes slowly and turned towards him, letting my head fall against his shoulder and snuggling deeper into his form, breathing in his intoxicating vanilla musk fragrance. He cradled me closer as one of his hands ran soft strokes up and down my spine.

  I rubbed my nose against his until his lips found mine. His tongue traced the outer edges of my mouth, nipping me on the corner with his teeth, causing me to open right before he plunged in. I could feel his manhood harden against my thigh as his hands began to feel upwards towards my breasts, squeezing them firmly.

  I felt lost in the moment until he pulled back.

  “Laurel, we need to stop.”