Damage: (Lakefield Book 5)

  Damage

  Jennifer Vester

  Contents

  Special Thanks

  Books by Jennifer Vester

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Thank you!

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 by Jennifer Vester

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Cover design by: Marianne Nowicki www.PremadeEbookCoverShop.com

  Edited by: Beyond the Click: Photography & Publishing Services

  For more information, please visit:

  Join my Reader’s Group on Facebook! @VestersVixens

  Follow on Facebook and sign up for my Newsletter: @AuthorJenniferVester

  Author Website: www.JenniferVester.com

  Created with Vellum

  Lucy Wright…this one is for you.

  No more ghosts at night.

  Muse ~

  “Drenched in sorrow, you found me in love with my own loneliness.”

  Special Thanks

  I wouldn’t have been able to write this book without the ongoing support of the people around me. Authors, bloggers, readers, Lovely Ladies, Vixens, family, and friends.

  There are so many people infusing me with positive vibes daily. You are incredible. You make it possible to sit down every night after a long day at work and dive into this series. You give me the ability to keep going.

  Is it over? Will we see these characters again?

  Characters never really go away once we’ve met them. Cryptic, I know.

  Books by Jennifer Vester

  ~ Lakefield Series ~

  Run

  Hide

  Break

  Chase

  Damage

  ~ Fleming Brothers ~

  Smoldering Heart

  Prologue

  Eight months ago…

  December wasn’t cold in Lakefield, it was rainy. The dark clouds that crept along at a slow pace across the sky, never seemed to go away.

  The grass was slick with a fresh batch of sprinkles as I walked toward my destination. It made it impossible not to get my shoes and the bottom of my slacks wet. The sound of my footsteps was joined by several others as we made our way toward the two canopies. The partial coverage would be better than nothing on such a dreary day.

  The leaves on the trees quaked and rattled in the breeze as the sky opened and began drenching our small group.

  An umbrella appeared to my right, handed over by Oliva. She gave me a tight smile, which didn’t reach her eyes but gave me comfort in a way.

  When we were seated under the tent, a balding man in a suit came around to offer condolences to everyone. I could barely hear him over the noise of the rain battering the canopy that covered us. I nodded when he approached me, hearing very little of what he said, but agreeing to whatever it was so that he'd leave.

  My eyes slid to the backs of the people in front of me. Black suits, black dresses. Some heads bent in sorrow and some just staring ahead. Then my eyes reluctantly slid even further, beyond his friends, to the casket that was perched above a gravesite.

  My mind drifted to the last week we worked together, and my heart clenched.

  “C’mon, Suzanne, lets hustle,” Cade yelled, as he saw me step into the kitchen to pick up my order.

  “I’m the one that’s busting my ass here, and all I see you doing is flapping your mouth,” I retorted, as I placed my dinner order in the queue. I checked the plates in front of me and grabbed a tray from the shelf.

  I glanced over at him as he raised his hands up and imitated a motion like he was choking me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “One of these days, Suzie,” he said with a wide smile.

  “You keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it yet,” I yelled at him over the sounds of the kitchen. I turned back to the stainless-steel table in front of me and started loading my tray with two plates.

  A hand slid around my waist and nudged me to the side. I stiffened at his touch. It was something new lately. In the years we'd worked together, there'd been very few instances where we'd brushed against each other in haste, but lately, it was like he found excuses to do it more and more. It was confusing.

  When I glanced up at him he leaned toward me, then grabbed something off the counter. “Don’t forget their side of marinara.”

  My eyes dropped to his mouth briefly then snapped back to his face. What I wouldn’t give for a kiss.

  He paused for a moment, his lips pursed, and one eyebrow raised before he spoke. “I’m travelling next week, I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn down.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I replied, rolling my eyes as I laughed. I picked up the tray and turned to leave the kitchen.

  Behind me he said, “We’re going to talk about your attitude when I get back, Suzie.”

  I laughed. “It’s never going to change!”

  “We’ll see about that,” he yelled as I exited. “Now hustle!”

  Three shots rang out in the quiet cemetery and jerked me out of my memory. An honor guard stood at the side of the casket in full uniform.

  As they began folding a flag, a hand slipped into mine. I glanced over as Olivia turned to me and squeezed my hand. I’d held my emotions in check until that moment. In fact, I’d felt numb for days after hearing that he’d died. But the look she gave me hit me deep in the chest, beyond the pain.

  A tear, one of many that I’d held back until now, slid down my face.

  Chapter One

  Present Day…

  Life was going to get better, I had to believe that. Things over the last year, if not the last several years, had been very rough. Change was good and already happening. Maybe not in the areas of my life that I needed it the most, but it was at least something.

  The things I told myself in the mirror every day were positive. You survived. You endured. You can get through anything at this point. And I truly believed that I could. I had to believe I was due for something better.

  Wanting more for myself wasn’t selfish, it was a step in the right direction. The problem, or the hard part, like most things, was finding the way to get there.

  Today was a new day, and my last day working at Muse. It was bittersweet in a way; I'd miss this place. But things had really changed over the past few months, including a new manager, who I didn’t especially like, and the feeling was mutual.

  I was at least cutting that frustrating element out of my life
at the end of my shift. The next big thing to tackle, would be tomorrow and I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  If it wasn’t for the paycheck that was providing the last bit of money I needed to move, I would have quit eight months ago.

  I could remember when I was satisfied with what I was doing. I’d been happy to walk through the front door of Muse and work an entire shift with or without good tips. But the last few months, had been tiring in more ways than one. It was funny, how the heart breaking into a thousand pieces, could wear you down and make you feel even more tired than you already were.

  First my dad died, and then Cade.

  It was tough when my dad passed, even though we hadn’t been close in a few years. Cade had been sympathetic when we talked about it. That was right before he’d left, and I was grateful for our discussion.

  Cade dying, though. That nearly broke me.

  It's been months since he’s been gone. No more smiles, or glances. No more teasing barbs thrown at each other during a dinner rush. Without him, there was nothing holding me here.

  He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. I was over it. At least that’s what I told myself in the mirror every morning. It’s what I told everyone that even bothered to ask. They didn’t know how much it had crushed me to hear the news.

  Olivia had known, and that was enough some days. Her husband, and the men that worked for him, including Cade, always had a lunch meeting once a month at Muse. I didn’t know the rest of them well, but I knew enough about them through their wives, who I’d become closer to over the months.

  Cade had to have known I liked him. But I wondered some days, if he’d just assumed that my sass came naturally. It did, and it didn’t. Call it a reflex, a quirk, whatever. I wasn’t sure where it all came from myself, but he always brought it out.

  After working for him a while, I’d ran through all the excuses that he might have used not to ask me out. Thinking back on it now, maybe I should have asked him outright, just to see where things might have gone. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have died.

  Thinking that he might not have been in Colorado at all, if I’d made a move at some point, was wishful thinking. For months, I felt like there was something I could have done.

  I kept thinking about what he’d done, or what I was told. He’d been shot while trying to protect Logan and Kate, from a crazed man in the mountains that was bent on killing Kate. It was an insane situation, which put them face to face with a killer. Cade had sacrificed his life, so that Logan, Kate, and their unborn children could live.

  Was that my brain being over it? Coping? Who the hell knew? Today, though, I would say goodbye to this place, and the memory of him.

  I hefted a large tray onto my shoulder and carried it out of the kitchen. It was a good thing that I kept in shape now, otherwise it might not have been possible.

  Months ago, out of the need for a distraction, I’d joined a gym. At first, it seemed like the weight machines were out to kill me.

  There was the incident with the treadmill first, that I nearly fell off, when I hit the accelerate after ten minutes instead of stop. Then there was the stepper that I nearly got tangled in, because I was paying too much attention to the man’s butt on the stepper in front of me, rather than on my footing.

  That particular incident, had bitten me in the rear in more ways than one. The man’s ass, had turned into a very attractive, distracting asshole, named David that I’d dated for two months. Who got me interested in doing weights with him. And although he was an asshole, I was glad that I’d been introduced to those exercises.

  They sucked. No lie. I went home several nights thinking that I would give up and go right back to a less strenuous routine. After those first few visits, the only thing I wanted to lift was the remote control and a glass of wine.

  The problem with that, was the wine never seemed to drown out my thoughts, even though it helped me sleep. Then when the workout routine started, all I wanted to do when I got home was eat and pass out.

  I may have slept fitfully at first, but as time passed, my nights became a lot more restful. I was thankful for the mental and emotional break. The added bonus, was that I was now in the best shape of my life.

  Considering I’d always been a bigger girl, it was definite progress. I still had my hips and ass, but I felt like everything was a little tighter and slimmer day by day.

  I delivered the food I was carrying to a table full of suits. They all seemed the same now. Working a year or more in one place, where the clientele was mainly the business type, they tended to blur together.

  I smiled at the group and chatted with them for a moment. One thing I liked about waitressing, was the ability to meet all kinds of new people. Everyone always had a different story, and each one was somewhat unique.

  “Suzanne!” a familiar voice called from the direction of the bar.

  I grabbed my tray, and checked on everyone one last time, before I walked away from their table. I headed toward the bar and saw my manager with his favorite clipboard. I could only wonder what he was furiously writing on it.

  The man was good with numbers, but he was an idiot when it came to human interaction. He would have been better at managing a pile of rocks. I knew the place needed some help at one point, but I often wondered why the owner, Aiden Latimer, had decided to hire him from outside the company. From what I knew, he'd managed a small restaurant on the other side of the city for about a year. Which wasn’t much experience, coming into one of Lakefield’s most high-profile hotspots for dining. But what did I know? I didn’t make the big bucks to make that type of decision.

  I approached him and leaned against the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. When I glanced over at our bartender, Pete, he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

  “Richard,” I said in acknowledgement. He preferred to be called, “Rick” but the staff in some silent agreement, had never called him that. I don’t remember who started the “I hate Richard” campaign, but we'd been using his formal name since week one. Mainly since Rick, rhymed with Dick, and there were just too many times we all wanted to call him that.

  He was serious when he faced me, which seemed to be the only expression he wore on his hard face.

  He really did look like a Richard. Extremely short hair that was never less than perfectly trimmed, oval glasses, a nose that was too small and thin for his face. He wasn’t built by any means, but he had bulk. He was naturally tall and slouched a lot. To me, he was average, if not a little dopey, and his constant disapproving expression implied a sour personality.

  I always wondered if he was naturally prone to sickness, or whether he just wanted to get out of anything remotely resembling work. He seemed to be gone nearly every time we were short staffed, or had major events going on.

  He was nice enough, for a boss, just lazy as hell with a shitty attitude.

  Richard cleared his throat.

  “You okay? Hope you’re not coming down with a cold.”

  He gave me a frown. “Ahh, no. Mr. Latimer called and said his wife was coming in today. He requested that you wait on her.”

  What was this, a fiefdom? I would, of course, be thrilled to see Liv, but it was the way he said it that made my skin crawl. Wait on her like she was royalty? If he only knew how much she cussed, he might change his mind.

  “Of course, but I’m leaving at six. Last day and all,” I said with a straight face. It was hard, since I really just wanted to tell him to bite me.

  He glanced at me, then frowned down at his clipboard again and started flipping pages.

  “I don’t recall seeing that on my calendar. I have you on three shifts for the weekend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know. Don’t worry they’re covered. I gave my notice two weeks ago, right after that party of twelve incident where you dropped a tray on the mayor.”

  His cheeks flushed. “I—it was loaded wrong. Too heavy on one side. I don’t remember talking to you about it.”

  “I gave
you the notice before I left. Anyway, I’m leaving after my shift. What time is Olivia going to be here?”

  Still appearing embarrassed, he sniffed and straightened his shoulders. “Mrs. Latimer will be arriving shortly. Since you aren’t giving me much notice on your resignation, I can’t promise a referral.”

  I chuckled. “Okay, that’s fine. If you want, I can take off right now.”

  “No,” he answered quickly, looking stern. “Mrs. Latimer specifically asked for you. At least stay for that.”

  I smirked at him. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Getting a referral from him wasn’t necessary. I already had a job lined up at a new bar that just opened near my hometown of Bakersville. I was looking forward to it and didn’t need his help in securing the position.

  My mother was happy I was going to be living closer to her. The only thing I was waiting on was my apartment, and it would be ready within the next month. She’d been lonely ever since my father died last year, and the move should have happened much sooner.

  She seemed okay with things, but I could tell with every phone call, that she wasn’t dealing with it as well as she said. And there was something going on with her that I couldn’t pinpoint. She had problems that we both worked through, but lately she’d been different.