Authors: Riann C. Miller
Beneath The Lies (33 page)
The guys offered a job at Hill Software to Alex and he’s kindly accepted. He plans to move out here next month, and him and Kiran are planning to get an apartment together.
I talk to my birth mother usually once a month, and I’m Facebook friends with all three of my siblings, which allows me to see how their lives are going, but I’ve yet to actually see them since my trip to Seattle. Kelly told me she’d like the whole family to make a trip to Colorado once we’re settled, and I’m hoping they do.
Damian kept to his word and hovered around my life without actually being in it. I can’t imagine what he’d be like to live with, because if I thought my father was protective, he was nothing compared to Damian.
After our fight, Gavin was still worried that Damian was going to do something to hurt me or worse, and make me disappear, but like I’d hoped over time he’s come around to the idea that he’s peacefully lurking in the background of my life.
I hear a splash and look out the window to see Kiran, Gavin, and Callie all in the pool. I’m not even sure where my bathing suit is and I know I won’t be able to relax until I get all of these boxes put away.
As I’m about to take more stuff upstairs, I hear our doorbell ring. It’s odd seeing as we don’t know anyone in the area, so I’m expecting it be a neighbor here to welcome us, but it’s not.
I open the door and I’m greeted with a stunning blonde. She’s fairly tall, with soft brown eyes that are staring at me in shock.
“Can I help you?” The woman seems to blink out of whatever daze she was in.
“I was told to come here. That you’d help me,” she replies quietly.
“Who are you?”
The woman bites her bottom lip and looks away for a second before responding. “My father said it was dangerous for me right now and that I should come here and stay with you until I’m told otherwise.”
My heart drops after listening to her. “I’m Belle.”
I want to thank my husband and kids for putting up with my crazy schedule and allowing me the time to write. They will always come first but I’m extremely thankful for their endless support.
I owe a huge thank you to Katie Benson. With everything going on in her life she still reads and re-reads my books without hesitation. Your support and friendship means a great deal to me.
I want to thank Kate Stewart. You will always have a special place in my heart. When I decided to take this leap you grabbed my hand and never let go. I can’t wait for the day I get to meet you in person.
My editor, Edee Fallon doesn’t just edit my books, she helps them come alive. Your encouraging words and support means the world to me.
Juliana Cabrera you blow me away with your cover designs. I know there are days when I contact you nonstop but thank you for putting up with me.
From the bottom of my heart I want to think my beta readers Jx PinkLady, Kelli Collopy, Polly Matthews and Patty Tennyson for taking the time to read Beneath The Lies and for giving me their honest feedback.
And last but never least, my best friends Aaron and Lisa. I know as I go through life I’m blessed to call you both friends. Thank you for your support not only with my writing adventure, but also with everything I do.
Riann C. Miller is a wife and a mother of two. She was born and raised in the Mid-West where she still lives today.
Shortly after she discovered her addition to reading romance novels she started writing reviews and it wasn’t long before actively blogging turned to a desire to write her own romance novels.
STAY CONNECT WITH RIANN
PROLOGUE
Have you ever made a mistake; one that cost you more then you ever knew possible? I did. Twelve years ago, I fell in love with a girl who literally crashed into my life. When I ran into her, the hit to my soul was strong enough that it addled my brain to the point I wasn’t thinking clearly. That was my only excuse for what later transpired. Listening to others—no matter how important they are in your life—over what my heart told me ended up being my biggest regret.
Guys don’t normally admit to this, but we take a lot longer to figure out love and what it truly means once you actually find it. From the moment we met, I knew she was special; it just took me a few years to figure out that I was never going to find that connection with someone else, because she was it for me. But leave it to me to screw up the most important thing in my life.
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
KOLE
I didn’t know something as simple as the sun would feel different, but since I arrived in LA almost a week ago, I’d discovered that life here was a far cry from the small town in Kansas where I grew up. How I even ended up in California was still a mystery to me because I don’t believe in fairytales, or luck for that matter. You get out of life what you put into it. It was as simple as that.
My story began back in Kansas, where I was raised by my mother, Jane, and her husband, Rick. I use that word loosely because, truthfully, I raised myself and was compelled to live with them. Unfortunately, my parents were deadbeats who loved to party more than they enjoyed anything else, and that included providing me with any quality of life. How I made it past seventeen years old without being raped or beaten to death in their home still surprised me. The type of people my parents associated with were less than desirable. On many occasions, I would lock myself in my room to avoid their guests.
When I was younger, life was made a lot easier thanks to Rick’s mother, whom I spent a lot of time with. But when I was only nine years old, Grandma Castro became very ill and passed away, leaving me to fend for myself during some emotionally hard years. Rick and Jane used my grandmother’s death as a reason to increase their partying. It helped them with their so-called grief, and any type of peace I once had in my life disappeared.
A few months ago, life as I knew it changed when my parents were killed in a car accident. It wasn’t surprising to learn that Rick had been under the influence, which was the cause of the accident. Luckily, they hit a tree head on and no one else was hurt. I was only a couple of months away from turning eighteen and the last thing I wanted was to end up in the foster care system. I was told I could stay with my good friend Abby Jackson and her family.
This is the point in my life where things began to not add up.
My name was Nikole Elizabeth Castro, or so I’d always been told. When I was filling out some paper work for the state of Kansas after my parents’ accident, I learned that my stepfather never actually adopted me like I was once told. Kole Castro didn’t actually exist, but a Nikole McKenzie did. McKenzie... I didn’t remember my mother ever saying that name before. I knew Rick wasn’t my biological father. He was Mexican, and both my mother and I had pale skin and light blonde hair, so it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I wasn’t half Mexican. Rick might not have been my real father, but he was the only thing I had close enough to call a dad, and that made me a Castro, like it or not.
On top of dealing with all the legal paperwork regarding my parents’ death, I was also dealing with my own. Every official document used the name Castro, including my driver’s license. Apparently, when you lived in a very small town where everyone knows you, no one questions if the name you have is legally yours. My mother never talked about the man who helped create me. I just figured she had no idea who he was, so why would she give me his last name and not her own on my birth certificate?
State officials in Kansas told me I couldn’t get emancipated unless both of my parents agreed to it. Since my mother was dead and I had no idea who in the hell Nicolas McKenzie was, I was stuck. The only thing that worked in my favor was that I was down to only a matter of weeks until I was a legal adult, anyway, so the state didn’t argue and allowed me to live my last few weeks as a minor with the Jacksons.
Throughout my junior and senior year of high school, I applied for every college scholarship I could find. Getting the hell out of that little, nowhere town and away from my parents had always been my main goal in life since Grandma Castro died, and I knew I had to make it on my own. When you watched your parents live off the system their whole lives, you either become them or find the will to do better. I graduated top of my class, never drank, and only went to a hand full of parties. I’d had a few boyfriends, but nothing serious. In fact, I’m still a virgin. Getting myself knocked up would have kept me in that town forever, and I was not about to let that happen.
So, when the Jacksons were helping me figure out what school would be the best for me—which one would pay the most and allow me to either not work or work a part-time job to make up the difference—I was astonished to find out I had a full ride to UCLA. I didn’t even apply to UCLA, so receiving a full ride seemed too good to be true. I had applied to Emporia and Fort Hays State, but I was expecting to attend a junior college for my first two years of school. Nevertheless, this scholarship included tuition, books, and room and board. The Jacksons called to check and everything appeared legitimate. I didn’t trust it…but the Jacksons told me to put my faith in what I was given, because mistake or not, I should take what was being offered.
My next concern was how I would afford to make the trip to California. Then I discovered my mother had some money in the bank. Actually, she had a little over ten thousand dollars. How? I had no idea. Who the hell lived on state assistance and has that much money in their checking account? Either way, I was the only living relative so the money was mine, and that was how I found my way out here to sunny, southern California.
Since I had extra money, I decided to leave early and spend the summer familiarizing myself with the area before college started in the fall. The school allowed me to pay extra to move into the dorms over the summer, so there I was, unpacking in a small room that I currently had all to myself. I found a job at a coffee shop right off campus called Cup of Joe. It was close enough that I could walk back and forth, and they claimed they would work around my class schedule in the fall. Everything appeared to be falling into place. California was beautiful and seemed like the ideal location to start my new life. Everything was great, perfect, and complete…until I met him.