Beneath the Sheets Read online

  Beneath the Sheets

  Shandi Boyes

  Contents

  Copyright

  Want to stay in touch?

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  1. Hugo

  2. Ava

  3. Hugo

  4. Ava

  5. Hugo

  6. Hugo

  7. Ava

  8. Hugo

  9. Hugo

  10. Ava

  11. Hugo

  12. Ava

  13. Ava

  14. Hugo

  15. Hugo

  16. Hugo

  17. Hugo

  18. Ava

  19. Hugo

  20. Hugo

  21. Ava

  22. Hugo

  23. Ava

  24. Ava

  25. Hugo

  26. Ava

  Epilogue

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  Copyright

  © Shandi Boyes 2017

  No part of this eBook 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 written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Editing: Mountains Wanted Publishing

  Cover: SSB Designs

  Some photo edits were made to the photograph.

  Dedication

  My one and only.

  I love you, Chris.

  Want to stay in touch?

  Facebook: facebook.com/authorshandi

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  Instagram: instagram.com/authorshandi

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  Email: [email protected]

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  Reader’s Group: bit.ly/ShandiBookBabes

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  Website: authorshandi.com

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  Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/AuthorShandi

  Also by Shandi Boyes

  Perception Series

  * * *

  Saving Noah (Noah & Emily)

  Fighting Jacob (Jacob & Lola)

  Taming Nick (Nick & Jenni)

  Redeeming Slater (Slater and Kylie)

  Saving Emily (Noah & Emily - Novella)

  Wrapped Up with Rise Up (Perception Novella - should be read after the Bound Series)

  * * *

  Enigma

  * * *

  Enigma (Isaac & Isabelle #1)

  Unraveling an Enigma (Isaac & Isabelle #2)

  Enigma The Mystery Unmasked (Isaac & Isabelle #3)

  Enigma: The Final Chapter (Isaac & Isabelle #4)

  Beneath The Secrets (Hugo & Ava #1)

  Beneath The Sheets(Hugo & Ava #2)

  Spy Thy Neighbor (Hunter & Paige)

  The Opposite Effect (Brax & Clara)

  I Married a Mob Boss(Rico & Blaire)

  Second Shot(Hawke & Gemma)

  The Way We Are(Ryan & Savannah #1)

  The Way We Were(Ryan & Savannah #2)

  Sugar and Spice (Cormack & Harlow)

  Lady In Waiting (Regan & Alex #1)

  Man in Queue (Regan & Alex #2)

  Couple on Hold(Regan & Alex #3)

  Enigma: The Wedding (Isaac and Isabelle)

  Silent Vigilante (Brandon and Melody #1)

  Hushed Guardian (Brandon & Melody #2)

  Quiet Protector (Brandon & Melody #3)

  * * *

  Bound Series

  * * *

  Chains (Marcus & Cleo #1)

  Links(Marcus & Cleo #2)

  Bound(Marcus & Cleo #3)

  Restrain(Marcus & Cleo #4)

  Psycho (Dexter & ??)

  * * *

  Russian Mob Chronicles

  * * *

  Nikolai: A Mafia Prince Romance (Nikolai & Justine #1)

  Nikolai: Taking Back What’s Mine (Nikolai & Justine #2)

  Nikolai: What’s Left of Me(Nikolai & Justine #3)

  Nikolai: Mine to Protect(Nikolai & Justine #4)

  Asher: My Russian Revenge (Asher & Zariah)

  Nikolai: Through the Devil's Eyes(Nikolai & Justine #5)

  Trey (Trey & K)

  K: A Trey Sequel

  The Italian Cartel

  * * *

  Dimitri

  Roxanne

  Reign

  Mafia Ties (Novella)

  Maddox

  Demi

  Rocco

  Clover

  Smith

  * * *

  RomCom Standalones

  Just Playin’ (Elvis & Willow)

  Ain't Happenin' (Lorenzo & Skylar)

  The Drop Zone (Colby & Jamie)

  Very Unlikely (Brand New Couple)

  * * *

  Short Stories

  * * *

  Christmas Trio (Wesley, Andrew & Mallory -- short story)

  Falling For A Stranger (Short Story)

  * * *

  Coming Soon

  Skitzo

  One

  Hugo

  Present day

  My hand trembles as I yank my cell phone out of the pocket of my running shorts. My body is slicked with sweat, and my heart is pounding against my chest. There has only been one time in my life I haven’t wanted to make a call. It was when I had to tell my best mate that my sister, his wife, had been critically injured in a tragic accident. If that wasn’t bad enough, the same accident claimed the life of their unborn son.

  My initial plan was to wait until Hawke’s feet touched home soil before telling him about Jorgie’s accident, but I didn’t have the chance to wait that long. He knew something wasn’t right the instant he heard me speak. I’ll never forget the howl of a broken man that resonated down the line that day. It was a soul being shattered with no possibility of being repaired.

  Against doctor’s advice, we kept Jorgie on life support for three days so Hawke could return from duty in Iraq and say his final goodbye to the love of his life in person. Jorgie was buried the day after his return with their son, Malcolm, cradled in her arms. Part of me died the day my sister did. We were two peas in a pod, rebels cruising through life one adventure at a time. Her life was perfect. Until it was brutally ripped away.

  Now, for the second time in my life, I have to tell a man the woman he loves is gone, snatched right under my nose by men who wish her harm. Protecting Isabelle is my job, the most vital task of my employment contract, but even if it weren’t, I'd still protect her. Izzy has a lot of the same qualities as my sister Jorgie.

  She's the same age as Jorgie was when she passed away. They have the same dark hair and fair skin, but instead of Izzy having Jorgie’s cornflower blue eyes, hers are a rich chocolate brown color, but the biggest similarity of all is their personalities: little firecrackers who keep everyone surrounding them on their toes, making sure life never gets boring. I wouldn’t necessarily say my life has been dull the past five years, but when Izzy crashed into Isaac’s life, things certainly became more dynamic.

  Before Izzy arrived in the picture, I’d spent the past five years as Manager of Operations in the background of Isaac’s empire, hidden from prying eyes. I handled acquisitions and proposals presented to his company and assessed the capabilities of any nightclubs he was considering purchasing. Isaac knew the instant he met Izzy she was his game changer, so he took measures to ensure she would always be protected. The very first task he did was alter my job description.

  Most would see my transition from Manager of Operations to a Protective Detail as a downgrade. I don’t. Knowing Isaac trusts me enough to take care of Izzy when he can’t is more rewarding than any fancy job title would ever be. N
ot only did I get the opportunity to thank Isaac for saving my life, I got to leave the stuffiness of my boring nine to five office job that was becoming as tedious as folding my overflowing laundry basket every Sunday morning.

  The only bad thing that has come from Izzy’s sudden inclusion in Isaac’s life is realizing what I sacrificed by not taking the time to rationally consider the consequences of my actions. Instead of evaluating how greatly my life would change from the mammoth decision I made five years ago, I once again became a bull in a china shop, charging first and asking questions later. I live with the repercussions of my decision every day of my life, but seeing the way Izzy looks at Isaac makes the demise of my previous life even more apparent, but I can’t change the past; I can only shape the future. And right now, my focus needs to remain on Izzy.

  The muscles in my thighs burn as I sprint down 42nd Street, chasing the white Range Rover with an unconscious Izzy splayed in the backseat. I tried to get her out. I smashed the back window of the Range Rover with my fists trying to save her, but I failed. Again.

  My feet stomping on the sidewalk drown out the thumping of my heart as I dial a number I know by heart. Lifting the cell phone to my ear, I push it in close, making sure I can hear Isaac over the shrill of my pulse in my ears.

  “Hugo,” Isaac greets me.

  His tone is stern, like always, but with a slight hint of playfulness. I knew he would have seen it this morning, the spark in Izzy’s eyes that told him she was coming back to him. I’d seen it emerging over the past few days: the way her ears would prick when my untraceable cell phone would ring, her long stares into space that would end with her arms prickling, and the way she finally stood up to the two-faced bitch, Clara. Seeing Izzy finally having the gall to stand up to Clara was all I needed to know she was ready to forgive and forget. To let love win. To stop fighting fate. Now, she may never get her opportunity.

  “They have her. They’ve taken Izzy,” I say, my words barely audible in my breathless state.

  Isaac inhales a sharp, quick breath, no doubt his heart freezing in ice cold fear. It is the same feeling I had when he told me I had to walk away from Ava nearly five years ago when we stood out front of my sister’s house.

  “Walk away or risk her life. The choice is yours,” he said that day.

  To me, there was no choice. I was always going to protect Ava, until my very last breath. So I walked away. Not just for a moment, but for a lifetime. Although Ava and I were only together mere weeks as a couple, I gathered enough memories to last me a lifetime. I watched her sleep for hours, absorbing and categorizing every look that adorned her beautiful face.

  Every smile and every frown was assessed in great detail. They're the memories that have kept me going the past five years. Even though our time together was short, I’m grateful I got to experience those moments with her. Not many people get the opportunity to meet their soulmate. I did and I'll be forever grateful for that. I know memories can’t compete with the real life moments, but when they're all you have, you take what you can get.

  “Who has her?”

  Isaac’s low tone drags me back to the present. “I don’t know. They pulled her into a white Range Rover at the bottom of St. Thomas Street,” I answer, my words breathless. “Fuck, Boss, I’m sorry, I only left her for a minute.”

  As the remnants of a nightmare cling to my skin, Izzy’s words about being a coward and hiding from my family hit me harder than normal. Although my nightmares have become a rarity the past five years, as the anniversary of the incident in Afghanistan creeps closer, my nightmares are resurfacing stronger than ever, but instead of absorbing the sting of Izzy’s words like the man I am, I stormed off in anger, too overwhelmed with a barrage of emotions hitting into me at once to continue our argument. That was all it took for them to snatch her. Mere seconds.

  My eyes lift to the Range Rover when it slams on its brakes and mounts the curb to avoid missing a blue sedan that suddenly pulled out in front of it. I barge my way through the dense foot crowd that always clogs Ravenshoe, pushing past a throng of people unaware of the danger surrounding them. In any other town, chasing a car by foot would be a fruitless effort, but thankfully for me, Ravenshoe has as many traffic issues as New York City.

  Isaac’s breathless grunt sounds down the line, reminding me I have my cell phone pressed against my ear.

  “Where are you now?”

  I cut across the T intersection of Tivot and Mark. My brisk pace halts when a truck comes out of nowhere, charging toward me. It slams on its brakes, infusing the air with the smell of burning rubber and smoke. The best parts of my life flash before my eyes as the grill of the truck inches toward me. Tires bouncing across the asphalt and a horn honking shrieks through my ears. Time freezes and everything goes deathly quiet.

  I release a ragged gasp when the truck narrowly misses hitting me by half an inch. After gathering my heart off the floor, I recommence my chase. I jump over the tray of the truck and increase my speed. Motorists honk their horns and curse as I sprint by. My lungs are heaving, incapable of securing a full breath, but the strong mix of adrenaline and determination is keeping me going.

  “I’m tailing them on foot,” I inform Isaac, my words winded.

  My body is beyond exhausted, screaming in pain, but I can’t give up. I can’t fail… again. The look in Izzy’s eyes when she thrashed against her attacker as he held a white cloth over her mouth will haunt my dreams. Another item added to my already exhaustive list.

  “They just pulled down Tivot,” I advise when the white Range Rover mounts the curb, barely missing a pedestrian waiting to cross.

  The veins in my neck thrum when the passenger of the Range Rover tilts his torso out of the window. He's a brute of a man, easily my height, and a good twenty pounds heavier. A snake tattoo slithers up his right arm toward a face only a mother could love. The corners of his mouth curve into an arrogant smirk at the same time he produces a black pistol. I inhale a sharp breath as my eyes scope the area.

  “Fuck. Get down!” I scream at the mass gathering of people surrounding me.

  The gunman aims his pistol at me, not the slightest bit concerned for the safety of the innocent bystanders milling around the space, enjoying their Sunday morning. I rush toward a middle-aged woman frozen in fear at the bus stop. A rustle of air escapes her lips when I push her out of the line of fire.

  Burning hot lava scorches my veins as a jolt of pain shreds through my chest. I’m sent flying backwards, hitting the concrete sidewalk with an almighty thump. I try to get up, to fight through the pain, but my body won’t co-operate. My breathing comes out in slow, uneven gasps, and a chill runs down my spine. The smell of copper mixed with sweat lingers in the air as my eyelids become heavy. A shadow hovers over me, blackened by the bright sun hanging in the sky. The sun bounces off the stranger’s golden hair, haloing him, like an angel has fallen from heaven.

  “My name is Brandon James. I'm an FBI Field Agent; my number is 443567. I need an ambulance sent to the corner of Tivot and Welsh.”

  “Blondie?” My words are garbled as the air from my lungs bubbles into my chest.

  I cough, splattering my lips with the tangy taste of blood. A garble of incomprehensible words rumble from my mouth when someone pushes down on the scorching pain burning through my chest and shoulder. Hot, sticky blood puddles around me as my eyelids droop.

  When the blackness overtakes me, my first thoughts go to her. Ava.

  Two

  Ava

  Washing my hands in the sink, I catch my reflection in the vanity mirror and grimace. Thanks to getting caught in an afternoon shower, my hair is a frizzy mess. The mascara I coated my lashes with this morning is gone, and my eyes are plagued with dark, heavy bags that haven’t budged an inch in nearly five years. I'm wretched. After fluffing the wild mess of my hair, I grab my powder compact out of my purse and set to work on concealing years of restless sleep.

  “I guess that will have to do,” I say, staring at a
slightly improved Ava reflecting back at me.

  After a dab of lip gloss and spray of perfume, I rush out of the cramped bathroom of my office and scurry down the hall.

  “I know, I know,” I apologize when I catch the pursed lips of Belinda, dear friend and office receptionist.

  She remains quiet while assisting me as I slip into my wool-lined trench coat.

  “You know what he is like, Ava.” She wraps a thick cashmere scarf around my neck as I slide my shaking hand into a pair of black leather gloves. “Being late is a way of saying you believe your own time is more valuable than the time—”

  “Of the person who is waiting for you,” I interrupt, quoting the saying I’ve heard many times the past four years.

  Belinda smiles while handing me a cashmere beanie.

  “But isn’t it better to be late than arrive ugly?” I quip, my tone as unconvincing as the concern hampering my vocal cords.