Envy: A Second Chance Romance (Deadly Sin Series Book 2) Read online

  BOOK 1: ENVY

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 BY PENELOPE MARSHALL AND ROXY SINCLAIRE

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, SCANNED, OR DISTRIBUTED IN ANY PRINTED OR ELECTRONIC FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLEASE DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN OR ENCOURAGE PIRACY OF COPYRIGHTED MATERIALS IN VIOLATION OF THE AUTHOR'S RIGHTS. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS EITHER ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY, AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO LOCALES, EVENTS, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, OR ACTUAL PERSONS – LIVING OR DEAD – IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

  ENVY

  CONTENTS

  BOOK 1: ENVY

  PROLOGUE

  CRIMES

  RULES

  REMINISCING

  YESTERDAY

  ANIMAL IN ME

  DIRTY MEMORIES

  THERAPY

  ENVY

  WTF

  EPILOGUE

  BOOK 2: INDECENCY

  INDECENCY

  ESCAPE

  CALM WATER

  FERAL

  WRATH

  BIG PÀPI CHULO

  FURY

  MY PROPERTY

  ULTIMATE BETRAYAL

  REDEMPTION

  BROTHERS

  ABOUT PENELOPE

  ABOUT ROXY

  ALSO BY PENELOPE

  ALSO BY ROXY

  ENVY

  A year ago I lost the love of my life to a man who didn't deserve her. Honestly, I probably didn't deserve her either.

  So I started over. Ready to dive into my work and forget about women and the heartache they brought. Until my uncle died, yanking me back to a city I wanted nothing to do with—yanking me back to Kelley.

  I'd left her in my rearview mirror when I was a kid trying to make a name for myself.

  I'm not that kid anymore, and I sure as hell wasn't ready to let another woman back into my life.

  But seeing her again brought back every feeling I wasn't ready to deal with...

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  Dedication

  To my family for their unwavering support.

  ...a woman's greatest need is to be loved, but her greatest struggle is to see her God given beauty...

  Acknowledgements

  We'd like to thank everyone who helped make this book possible:

  Vicki, Summer, and Jackie…xoxo!!!

  Charity, what would we do without you?

  PROLOGUE

  "I did leave—I admit it. But I didn't leave our past. I didn't leave the fact that you were my first love—my first everything. He doesn't get to have that."

  Defeated, my hand dropped to my side as I straightened my posture and turned to him. "Then what does he get to have?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "If he can't have my past, and he can't have my future—what can he have? What can I have?"

  CRIMES

  LIAM

  San Diego, a year after Lexi…

  I watched him wink at me as he strolled out of the courtroom, just as smug as he came in.

  I shook my head. "That son of a bitch."

  Jackie, my co-council, and boss, moved toward me, her long brown hair swaying behind her. Her shiny red lips separated, but I didn't want to hear the bullshit she was about to spew. She was always the level-headed one, and if I'd let her, she'd probably say something profound—something worthy of me letting go of the whole thing—but I didn't wanna let it go.

  Her lips parted. "I'm sorry."

  "I'm sorry?" I echoed as I stood to walk out of the courtroom. "Tell that to the next woman he shoves into a dark alleyway."

  "Liam!" she yelled as the door swung closed behind me.

  I kept walking. Nothing she had to say was going to make any difference to me. Obviously, it was free reign to commit crimes on women, and I, for one, was tired of the shit.

  I headed down the courthouse steps, dodging the bustling downtown crowds, stopping mid-stride when I saw the bastard, Alex, leaning up against the side of the building across the street, eyeing women as they passed.

  I swiped my palm over my mouth, praying I could control myself long enough to walk away, but the smug look on his face was enough to send me into a veritable craze.

  There I stood—frozen—just staring at him, which caught his attention.

  "Mr. Storm. Come join me," he invited, grinning from ear to ear.

  Suddenly, and in a flash of heat, I was standing next to him—his mere presence egging me to snap his little neck. I lost it. "Piece of shit," I said, punching him square in the jaw.

  His head jolted to one side. "What are you doing? Are you fuckin' crazy?" he asked, wiping the stream of blood from the side of his mouth.

  "Just keeping my fellow citizens safe from criminals like you."

  "Criminal? That's not what the jury said."

  "Liam!" Jackie yelled from across the street.

  I looked over to see her frantically waving at me. "Fuck."

  Realizing the imminent consequences of my actions, I stepped back.

  Alex straightened his posture, still gripping the side of his jaw. "You're a piece of shit, Storm."

  Jackie hurried across the street, her heels clicking against the pavement with each step. "Liam, what the hell are you doing?" she asked, half out of breath.

  I stepped toward her. "Nothing. I'm not doing shit."

  "I wanna file a complaint," Alex said, wiping the blood from the edge of his mouth. "I wanna press charges on this crazy animal."

  Jackie crossed her arms, shaking her head, while Alex laughed like a hyena in the background.

  "Goddammit, Liam," Jackie whispered through tight lips.

  The crowd began to grow around us, whispering amongst themselves as they played judge and jury. "He was asking for it, Jackie."

  "You knew this was your last chance to show me you were getting your temper under control."

  "Honestly, I don't give a fuck anymore."

  She stepped closer to me. "You haven't given a fuck since you came back from Los Angeles."

  Why did she have to bring up Los Angeles? Just the thought of the place brought back memories of Lexi.

  God, I miss that woman.

  "Go home and cool off. I'll take care of this," she said, moving toward Alex.

  "You can't take care of me. I want him arrested for assault!" Alex screamed, pointing at me.

  Jackie shot me the stare of death. "Go, Liam."

  "He's a goddam rapist!"

  The crowd gasped in horror at the information.

  "The jury found me innocent," Alex bellowed to the dispersing crowd.

  "Even they know you're guilty, you fuckin' asshole," I said as I turned and rounded the corner toward my car.

  My phone rang as I trudged down the street. I almost let it go to voicemail, but the thought that it could be someone's one phone call from prison always hung around my mind. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out, looking at the screen to discern the number.

  It didn't register as the county jail like it usually did or as anyone on my contact list.

  "Hello," I said, holding the phone up to my ear as I unlocked my car door and slid into the driver seat.

  "Mr. Storm?" an elderly man's voice filtered through the ear piece.

  "Yes?"

  "I'm Kerris Miller, your Uncle Henry's lawyer," he cleared his throat. "Was his lawyer."

  "What do you mean wa
s?"

  "Your uncle died last week. I phoned and left a message. Didn't you get it?"

  "No. No, I didn't," I said, laying my keys on my lap, exhaling a breath of despair into the warm car air.

  "Oh. Well, I am very sorry to have to be the one to deliver the news—"

  "What happened?" I asked, not that I had to. Uncle Henry had always had a bad heart, and after my Aunt Carla died, his health just slid downhill.

  "Heart attack."

  "Yeah, I figured."

  "When is the funeral?"

  "I already threw him a small one yesterday. When I didn't hear from you, I assumed you weren't interested."

  "Interested? In attending my uncle's funeral?" I asked angrily.

  "Mr. Storm, I didn't mean it that way."

  "So what do you want? Payment for the funeral?"

  "No. Nothing like that. Your uncle was a good friend of mine. It was my honor to send him off as best as I could. It's his house. It needs to be dealt with."

  "Well, I can't come right now," I said as my other line began to beep. "Hold on, please."

  "Sure thing."

  It was Jackie calling. I clicked over to the other line. "Jackie."

  "I'm gonna have to suspend you, Liam. It was the only way I could get him to drop the charges."

  "What the fuck?"

  "Hey, you did this. I'm just trying to mitigate the damage."

  "I'm not a fuckin' case, Jackie."

  "But you are! You are always getting in trouble because of that temper of yours. Take a month and figure it out."

  "A month? Are you serious?"

  "Take it or leave it. I suggest you take it."

  I shook my head and clicked over to Mr. Miller. "I'll be there tomorrow."

  "Okay. I'll meet you at the house tomorrow morning at nine."

  "That'll be fine," I said, clicking back to Jackie.

  "Fine, I'll take a month off."

  "Come back with a new attitude please, or I'll make it permanent. You need to get over whatever happened in LA. Maybe you need to talk about it."

  "I don't wanna talk about it."

  "You need to do something, 'cause what you're doing isn't working."

  I clicked off the call. I didn't need or want her advice. My heart was heavy enough with thoughts of Lexi and my uncle, and all I wanted to do was forget. I started the engine and sped off toward a local bar, ready to drown my sorrows in a bottle of scotch.

  KELLEY

  Thirty miles away…

  "Girl, when are you gonna come out? I miss you," Azalea whined into my voicemail.

  She had called right as I was walking into the front entrance of The Lounge, the bar where I'd worked since high school. It was only supposed to be a temporary gig until the very first boy I'd ever loved, came back for me after he finished law school. Unfortunately, he never came back for me. The best-laid plans—isn't that what people say? It was our dream to move to New York and do big things—but I was the sucker in that relationship, which seemed to be the running theme in my life.

  Honestly, I didn't feel like having to lie about why I didn't want to go out. I wasn't ready to hop back on the horse or get back on the bike—whatever the saying was. The weeks after breaking up with Jesse were tough, and going to a club was the last thing I wanted to do.

  Jesse had come home one night with a hickey planted smack dab in the middle of his neck, he tried to explain it away with a bar fight, but there was no denying it or explaining it away. He was cheating, and I couldn't take another minute of it. I asked him to leave, but being the stubborn ass he was, he refused. So I did the only thing a self-respecting woman could—I stormed out—taking nothing but the clothes on my back, a small bag, and a pair of dirty old boots I'd had since high school.

  Luckily it was summer, so most nights I slept in my truck, and some nights, Jacob, my boss, let me sleep on the couch in his office—when he wasn't using it that is. His wife had quite the temper and liked to kick him out at least once a week. I guess I could have bunked with Azalea or my parents, but I didn't feel like hearing any I told you so's, seeing as how they warned me about Jesse from day one.

  I'm not going to lie, I missed him, and on nights like those, I would scroll through my cell phone contacts to the J's, hovering my thumb over his name. I just wanted to be Jesse and Kelley again, because being just Kelley was lonely. But when I'd finally get up the nerve to press his name, the memories of all the lonely nights, shady phone calls from private numbers, and constant lying, all crept back into my mind, and that would be the end of that.

  I probably should have deleted his number from my phone, not that it wasn't already engrained in my brain, but I could have at least done it out of principal.

  I deleted her voicemail, and almost slid the phone back into my pocket, but an overwhelming rush of adrenaline washed over me.

  "Fuck Jesse."

  I wasn't going to let him dictate my life any more than he already had. I clicked on the callback icon and listened as the phone rang, once, twice, and finally a third time.

  I almost hung up when I heard, "Hello."

  "Hey, Zales, sorry I missed your—"

  "Where in the hell have you been?" she interrupted with an attitude.

  "I've just been trying to stay low-key."

  "So I know you're sad about Jesse but—"

  "I don't wanna hear it, Zales," I interjected, knowing she was about to bring up past bullshit to open wounds, demanding we go out to nurse those wounds. She was so predictable.

  "Looky here broad—first of all, don't ever interrupt me, and second we're going out whether your sad ass likes it or not."

  "Please! You don't even know me like that to be ordering me around!"

  "Uh—I'm your sister. I think I do," she sassed.

  I smiled, lowering my voice as a bar customer brushed by me. "Anyway, I guess I'll go. What time are you gonna pick me up?"

  "I'll pick you up at nine."

  I looked at the phone and shook my head. "Okay, pick me up at work."

  "Why can't I pick you up at your house?"

  I tried to come up with some great excuse as to why she couldn't pick me up at a place I didn't live anymore, but I couldn't.

  "It'll just be faster if you pick me up from here."

  "Whatever."

  She hung up the phone, and a sinking feeling instantly filled my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to call her back and back out, but Jacob busted through the front door before I could press the call button.

  "Do you feel like starting work anytime soon?"

  I parted my lips and raised my hand to him. "Give me a second."

  Feverishly, I texted her back while Jacob stared intently at me.

  I stopped texting and glanced up at him. "You don't have to watch me do this you know."

  "If I don't, you'll never come inside."

  I shook my head.

  Me: I can't do it.

  Azalea: Jesus!

  Me: I'm sorry.

  She didn't reply after that.

  "Well?" Jacob asked, waving his hand an inch away from my face.

  Defeated, I pushed the phone into the back pocket of my cut off jean shorts and strolled into the dimly lit bar, which smelled of whiskey and sweat. It was a smell that used to make me gag but was now so familiar, it didn't even garner a response. Sometimes I worried I wore the smell like a permanent perfume and didn't know it.

  "Hey sweet cheeks, fill me up over here!" Nate, one of the usual bar patrons, yelled.

  I blew a few tendrils of hair from my face before walking around to the back of the bar, trying to muster up the energy to perform the menial tasks my job required for the next eight hours.

  RULES

  LIAM

  The next morning…

  The fog had rolled in from the Pacific, and as soon as I stepped out of my apartment, the cold air penetrated my skin, chilling my bones to the marrow. Glancing over my shoulder to the sleek lines and crisp colors of the living room furnitur
e, I imagined the disaster I would be walking into once I got to my uncle's house. My shoulders slumped, wishing something—anything—would happen to keep me from going. I pulled out my phone, hoping for a message from Jackie, but there was nothing.

  Sometimes I wondered if I was just too embarrassed to admit where I was from, and other times, I knew I was too embarrassed. When the topic came up in conversation amongst friends I always found a way to change the subject. One would think I had come from the slums of a third world country the way I shunned National City from my life, but in reality, it was a quaint little city with hardworking people.

  My parents had died in a car accident when I was a kid. The asshole who hit them had gotten off his last DUI on a technicality. The prosecutor trying his case didn't submit a key piece of evidence properly, so the whole case was thrown out.

  If he'd gone to jail like he was supposed to, my parents would still be alive today. My Uncle Henry, my father's brother, took me in after that. With no other family to speak of, we were all we had. My Aunt Carla had suffered from ovarian cancer in her early twenties, so they never had any kids of their own.

  Secretly, I think my uncle saw me as his one chance to be a father. He would've made a great father, but I wasn't in a place to receive his love. I was angry about the loss of my parents, and all I wanted to do was put every asshole who'd ever committed a crime where they belonged—in jail.

  I threw my bags into the back seat of the car then slid in, leaving my apartment in my rear view mirror. The clean buildings of La Jolla soon gave way to graffiti ridden freeway overpasses as I neared National City. It was about eight-thirty when I pulled up the driveway to the dilapidated house. It looked as rickety as I remembered, if not more, and the surrounding land looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

  "Shit, what've I gotten myself into?"

  I parked and stepped out of the car, right as an older gentleman in a gently used black Mercedes pulled up behind me. The dirt from the driveway created a plume of dust that engulfed both of our cars, filling my lungs with its suffocating particles, making it hard to breathe.