Black Regrets (A Kelly Black Affair Book 4) Read online

  Black Regrets

  A Kelly Black Affair

  CJ Thomas

  Contents

  Copyright

  About the Author

  Free Novel

  Black Regrets, Book Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Afterword

  Also by CJ Thomas

  Acknowledgment

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2018 CJ Thomas

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author and/or publisher. No part of this publication may be sold or hired, without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the writer’s imagination and/or have been used fictitiously in such a fashion it is not meant to serve the reader as actual fact and should not be considered as actual fact. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products 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.

  [email protected]

  About the Author

  CJ lives in the Green Mountains of Vermont. You can find CJ skiing, hiking, and spending time with family when not typing away on the latest hottest read.

  Connect with CJ:

  [email protected]

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  Black Regrets, Book Description

  Kelly Black was tormented with regrets piling sky-high.

  He was my concern. The man I loved more than anything else.

  Yet dangers lurked around every corner, and it wasn’t just my uncle that had me shaken up. My parents were in trouble, and everyone was after something I had that they wanted.

  But our troubles didn’t stop there.

  Standing in the eye of the hurricane, Madam’s manipulation and control ran deep. Tonya Craig was dead, and I feared that I would be next. Except Kelly’s focus was on investigative reporter, Sylvia Neil, and how she lied to cover up the death of Maria Greer when he should have been focused on protecting me. Because what came barreling toward us next was something that neither of us saw coming. And it was bigger and darker than we could have ever imagined.

  And here, all this time, I thought I was the broken one when it was he who was shattered.

  1

  Kelly

  There was no time to explain to Giselle.

  We both knew what we’d seen.

  And time was against us all.

  Turning my body sideways, I squeezed my shoulders through the sliding metal doors as soon as the elevator opened. I’d been anxious to get back to Parker Holdings as soon as the news about Tonya Craig broke. On the verge of a panic attack, self-blame crept up my spine bringing pellets of sweat to my brow with it. Nothing could have made me anticipate this. Nothing.

  Marching toward reception, I hoped that I would find Timothy Parker inside his office. Hoped to God that he’d picked up his conference call that my previous visit had forced him to end. Because if he was there, if he was on the phone, then I could kill my assumptions that he was the one to silence the one obstacle that stood between him and the million-dollar acquisition his company was about to close.

  As I approached, my feet were cinderblocks as Tonya’s young, innocent face haunted my thoughts. My heart ached. My insides tied into a painfully tangled knot. And with each step I took, I deeply regretted Madam’s idea to have me blackmail Parker in exchange for dropping the assault charges the district attorney pressured him to make against me.

  Turning back the hands of time was wishful thinking and my victory short-lived. Now I had to live with another death because of the choices I’d made.

  Shortening my stride, I wiped my brow as my vision tunneled.

  The woman behind the desk lifted her head, sensing my presence as I approached.

  The floor beneath me spun and I stumbled enough to feel myself falling, but not enough to be seen.

  Her lips frowned the moment she realized it was me—back again so soon. And who could blame her? I’d disobeyed her instruction and interrupted Parker’s important conference call only an hour ago. She stood, as if expecting confrontation, smoothing the flat of her hands over the front of her skirt. “I’m sorry, Mr. Black. But just like before, you’re going to have to make an appointment.”

  Drumming my fingers on her desk, I smirked. “Parker didn’t tell you?”

  Her head tilted to the side as she eyed me with a suspicious glance.

  “He’s expecting me.” I took one step toward Parker’s office doors.

  “Mr. Black, if you go in there I’ll have to call security.”

  Reaching for the doorknob, I turned and said, “This won’t take long.”

  “He’s not here,” she conceded.

  My entire body froze as a slight chill rippled over my flesh—the heavy stone settling in my stomach as my fears were now realized. But regardless of what I’d just learned, I had to see it with my own eyes. Slowly, I turned the knob, opening the door and stepping inside Parker’s office only to find it empty, just as she said. Timothy Parker was gone.

  “When did he leave?” I asked.

  The young secretary glanced to the clock on the wall. “Not long after he met with you.”

  Which meant that Parker had enough time to ensure Tonya Craig kept quiet—forever—about the relationship she had with him. Rubbing my nose, I turned my focus back to the inside of his office. Looking around, thoughts whirled between my ears trying to make sense of him and Tonya Craig.

  Parker was a money man. A deal maker. An innovator. And a murderer, too?

  And she was a friend. A daughter. And a call girl who might never be missed.

  “Mr. Black,” the secretary called from outside the door, “I’m going to ask you to leave his office one more time before I really do call security.”

  Ignoring her pleas, I shut the door and continued to browse his desk.

  This was my fault. If Parker killed Tonya, then my hands had her blood on them, too. And,
worst of all, I was convinced that Madam knew Parker might snap. Which then made me wonder, what did Tonya know—or do—that Madam didn’t like enough to have her killed?

  Pulling my cell from my pocket, I scrolled through my list of contacts before landing on Parker’s name. And just when I was about to hit the green call button with my thumb, a phone began to ring on the other side of the room.

  Following the sound, I hurried to the opposite wall only to find Parker’s cell spinning in circles on top of the filing cabinet. Assuming he’d forgotten it in his rush to leave, I reached beneath the long leafy plant limbs and turned the phone over to see who was calling.

  My eyes widened when I saw the name Oscar Buchannan flash in bright white letters over the screen. Paranoia made me speculate the conspiracy to kill Tonya was much bigger than I’d originally thought—if the district attorney was behind this, too.

  Sucking back a deep breath, I placed the phone in the exact place where I’d found it, not wanting to be connected to this any more than I already was. Opening the door, the secretary warned me that security was on their way up.

  “You can call them off. I’m done here,” I said, passing her desk, never looking her in the eye for fear of what she might soon learn. I made a hasty exit.

  If I was set up to get Tonya killed, I needed to get ahead of the story before the story came to me.

  2

  Kendra

  My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  There was nothing I liked about having my uncle sneaking up on me. And, just knowing he was around, I wasn’t sure I was safe anywhere.

  Glancing out the car’s back window, I felt like I was being followed. He knew where I was, that I was alone—without Kelly. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been so bold when approaching. And that was what had me most concerned. He seemed to know more about my life, including my whereabouts, than anybody else. More than even Alex or Kelly.

  Turning back to face the front, the Uber driver’s curious eyes found mine again. Though he didn’t say a word, it wasn’t hard to read his expression. He knew I’d been anxious since he picked me up. And despite the way he was looking at me now, I wasn’t about to tell him to speed up so I could get out before I really did start to panic.

  Turning my attention out my window, I wished Lucky had picked me up. It would have made this journey so much easier. Maybe I would have even been able to open up a little about what had me so freaked. But since it wasn’t him sitting behind the wheel, I dove my hand inside my tote and pushed my fingers past the undergarments I’d bought to wear for Kelly—his surprise. Wrapping my fingertips around the envelope, I yanked the paper Uncle Marvin had so graciously given me and began to re-read my grandmother’s will.

  Pinching my bottom lip as I read, I felt my eyes dry.

  Spinning in circles, my mind kept going back to wondering how he managed to get his paws on a copy of her will. If my memory served me well, I thought that I was the only one to have the original. And as my eyes scanned each line of text, I still didn’t understand how I was the only one to receive everything my grandparents ever owned.

  Lifting my head, my brow pinched as I thought about how I never asked for any of this.

  When the driver turned the sun shined in my eyes, causing me to snap them shut. And when I did, all I could hear ringing between my ears was what my uncle said when handing this document over to me. “You have something we all want.”

  Money.

  My eyes flew open and my heart raced.

  It was all my family ever wanted—always in desperate need of. It would be silly of me to think that now would be any different.

  “Here?” the driver asked, pointing through the windshield.

  Straightening my spine, I peeked over the headrest of the seat in front of me, getting my bearings. “Yes. This will be fine.”

  The vehicle slowed to a stop as I gathered my things. I thanked him for the ride as I swung the door open, stepping foot on the dirty concrete sidewalk.

  Two blocks away. That’s how far it was to my apartment. And I almost had to laugh at how ridiculous it was for me to still request that I be dropped so far away. Like it made a difference in keeping me safe. My uncle knew where I lived, knew everything, and if he could figure out all that in the short time I knew he’d been back, then anybody could do the same. But it was still habit, I thought as I galloped alongside the buildings with my head held high, thinking of how awful I remembered my family to be.

  It would be wrong of me to lie and say I wasn’t the least bit curious to know what my parents were up to—how they were doing, and if anything had changed since I saw them last. And as sick as it was, perhaps I would even delight in the news of whatever trouble they seemed to be in. A sort of retribution for not coming forward and saving me from the hell I’d experienced.

  Pushing through the front entrance doors, it didn’t take Mr. Anderson long to greet me with a large smile. “And she’s back.”

  I ducked my head and chuckled as I stopped to chat.

  “Things must be going well with your new gentleman.” His tall, slim body tipped forward onto his toes. “Hopefully you’re taking time for yourself to assess the worthiness of his company?”

  In a flash my smile turned upside-down.

  Reading my mood, Mr. Anderson gave a slack expression. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kendra, but did I say something wrong?”

  Glancing toward the street, I murmured, “If my uncle ever shows up here again,” my eyes rolled in his direction, “call the cops.”

  “Is everything all right?” His bushy brows squished together.

  Swishing my bangs across my forehead, I said in a somber voice, “It certainly doesn’t seem that way.” He held my gaze for a solid second before I turned and headed to the elevator without saying another word.

  There was no reason to explain in great detail the worries playing out inside my head. Mr. Anderson had enough worries of his own, and as long as he knew the one culprit I didn’t want to ever see in my building again, that was enough for me.

  Once inside my apartment, I fell back against the door and breathed out a sigh of relief.

  It felt good to be home. The place of security, refuge, and a quiet monastery where I could collect my thoughts. Soon, silence swept over me, bringing a relaxing peace one could only find at home.

  Plopping my tote on the kitchen table, I was eager to make a decision. Again, I was split between calling my parents and not. If I ignored them, I feared my uncle would keep popping up when I least expected him. And if I called, I might invite unforeseen problems into my life. I was stuck, not liking either choice.

  I opened the fridge, thinking food could damper the stress. It was empty. Deciding I better browse my apartment since it had been so long since I’d been home, I checked the bathroom before moving to my bedroom. Everything seemed to be in its place—it was nearly too normal for me to be able to sit still and relax like I had hoped.

  I missed Kelly, I thought as I looked around, hugging my waist.

  Missed the smell of his home. Missed feeling like we were a couple. And I missed the luxury we basked in when at his place. My apartment was so ordinary, but I couldn’t deny the small voice in the back of my head wishing that I could go back to how life was before I ever met him.

  And that made me sad. Because he was incredible. It was all this other bullshit that I wanted erased. At least with him around I knew he would protect me.

  Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I glanced in the direction of where I generally kept a bottle of vodka waiting. And even though there wasn’t one, I couldn’t deny the freedom I had away from the corporate grind. I could drink, stay out as late as I wanted, sleep all day the next morning, and not have to worry about needing to be at an office and keep my performance up. It was incredible. Even past the bullshit of having to work with the Madam, it wasn’t something I was ready to give up. But my stomach hardened when I thought that this dream I’d created, standing next to Kelly, was quickly com
ing to an end.

  Floating across the apartment floor, I soon found myself standing in front of my bookcase, fearing what Madam had planned for me next.

  Sliding To Kill a Mockingbird off the shelf, my lips curled into a smile, remembering hearing my grandmother’s voice read the story to me as a kid dozens of times over the course of my childhood. Opening the book, an old photograph of my grandparents fell into my hands.

  Why me? I kept asking her.

  Soon I found myself on the couch with the book, the old photograph, my grandmother’s will, and my cell phone laid out in front of me. There was little doubt my grandmother would encourage me to talk with my parents. She was the matriarch and was the glue that kept our family together. When she was gone, the foundation crumbled. Family was all we had in this crazy world and I turned my back on everybody who helped raise me to be the woman I was today.

  Reaching my hand to the coffee table, I flipped the will over to the phone number my uncle had scribbled on the back.

  The truth was, I was curious to know what kind of trouble my parents were actually in. Though I wasn’t ready to make the commitment to help, the least I could do was reach out and begin the conversation. Take the higher road. The road they never took when I needed them most.