Skepticism (Life. Destiny. Fate. #4) Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by LK Collins

  Kindle Edition

  Cover Design by Allie Brennan, B Designs

  Edited by Lisa Christman, Adept Edits

  Formatting by Paul Salvette, BB eBooks

  Photography by Svitlana Sokolova

  All rights reserved. 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.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales 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 owner.

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 ~ It’s over

  Chapter 2 ~ 45-Caliber

  Chapter 3 ~ Deceased

  Chapter 4 ~ Dead Or Alive

  Chapter 5 ~ Waiting

  Chapter 6 ~ Regret

  Chapter 7 ~ Nothing Will Ever Be The Same

  Chapter 8 ~ Michelle

  Chapter 9 ~ Lost time

  Chapter 10 ~ Goodbye

  Chapter 11 ~ Trepidation

  Chapter 12 ~ Debts Are Due

  Chapter 13 ~ 20 Days

  Chapter 14 ~ 19 Days

  Chapter 15 ~ 18 Days

  Chapter 16 ~ 17 Days

  Chapter 17 ~ 15 Days

  Chapter 18 ~ Prestwell

  Chapter 19 ~ 14 Days

  Chapter 20 ~ Ten Minutes

  Chapter 21 ~ 13 Days

  Chapter 22 ~ 12 Days

  Chapter 23 ~ Caught

  Chapter 24 ~ Vengeance

  Chapter 25 ~ 11 Days

  Chapter 26 ~ 10 Days

  Chapter 27 ~ 8 days

  Chapter 28 ~ 7 days

  Chapter 29 ~ Trust No One

  Chapter 30 ~ 6 Days

  Chapter 31 ~ 5 Days

  Chapter 32 ~ 4 Days

  Chapter 33 ~ 3 Days

  Chapter 34 ~ 2 days

  Chapter 35 ~ Last Day

  Chapter 36 ~ The End

  Chapter 37 ~ Moretti

  Chapter 38 ~ Romeo and Juliet

  Chapter 39 ~ At Last

  Acknowledgements

  Follow LK Collins

  Other Books by LK

  For Maureen, the true rock of our family. May you soar with the angels and dance upon the clouds.

  The champagne cork shoots to the ceiling with a resounding pop! It’s a sound I’ve always loved, a sign of celebration. Nick slings an arm over my dad’s shoulder and holds the bottle high in the air. I keep myself closely wrapped around Natalene, never seeming to have her close enough to me. She has the biggest grin on her face, and I’ll always do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

  “To the heist of a lifetime,” Nick says filling four glasses. We each grab one, and my dad speaks before we drink. “To my sons and Natalene, thank you all for helping me pull this one off.” We all clink our glasses together before knocking back the crisp liquid. I set mine down, just as Nick shakes the rest of the bottle, spraying the three of us. The liquor streams down my face and I laugh, especially when I look at Natalene – she is absolutely drenched.

  The room is filled with laughter – laughter from my family. These are the closest people in the world to me, and I wouldn’t change this moment for anything. We prepared eight months to hit my dad’s associate after he let my mom die, and finally, today was the day of retaliation, and we pulled it off flawlessly.

  I know there is no amount of money that will ever bring her back. But we’ve financially hurt the man responsible and will get enough for a fresh start, a start where we can be new people and escape our troubles here. We are set to leave the country in the morning, and from tomorrow forward, I’ll be Liam Brown. Micah Lomano will be dead.

  Natalene grabs my arms, pulling me closer to her. Her touch alone brings a kick of excitement to my stomach. She kisses me hard, our lips pressing fiercely together. “Get a room,” my brother yells. But I can’t stop myself. With Nat, I never can – I’ve always given into her and always will.

  “I have something for you,” she whispers into my ear. Raising an eyebrow at her, I’m intrigued. “I’ll be right back.” I take a seat on the couch and watch her walk away from me. Her short hair bounces with each step.

  “Do you want another?” Nick asks me.

  “Nah, I’m good, brother.” He grabs two beers from the fridge and passes one to our dad as he hangs up his phone. “Is everything good?” I ask, still worried that Moretti will retaliate for what we did, not feeling a hundred percent safe as long as we’re still sitting here and not completely out of his reach.

  “Yeah, it’s great.” They crack open their beers as I wait for Natalene to come back downstairs. That’s when something catches my eye, even though it’s probably just me being paranoid. But needing to check things out, I get up and am stopped dead in my tracks. The room pings with gunfire as shot after shot blazes around. I drop to my knees, but it’s too late – I’ve been hit. Pain ensues, my worst fears coming true. I knew Moretti would act fast; I should’ve fucking listened to my gut. I try to move, willing my body up the stairs – I have to get to Nat. But another round of bullets blows through me. I look down at my bloody abdomen and collapse. The pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. A fire brews inside of me, and I can’t imagine my life ending this way. Looking to my left, my brother is on the floor, blood pooled around his head, his eyes staring blankly. Lifeless. The sight alone takes me away from the pain I’m feeling. His life ripped from him so quickly. The gunmen stalk my dad, slowly walking towards him. My dad stands with a gun on the two men and I lay my head on the brown carpet closing my eyes, hopelessness washing over me. He won’t win.

  “Moretti sends his condolences to you and your family, Mr. Lomano,” one of the gunmen says in his thick Italian accent.

  My father tries to argue, pleading, but I’m focused on the stairs. Natalene is at the top of them on her knees looking down at me. Her hands are covering her mouth, trying to contain the anguish. It is clearly painted all over her features. Run, I mouth to her. She still has time to save herself. She nods her head. Pain etched across her face, I watch her turn and leave, my heart breaking at the sight, but I shut my eyes with her as my last vision. These fuckers came here for blood, and they will put another bullet in me, I’m sure of it. They aren’t leaving here ’til all of us are dead. Slowing my breathing, I pretend to be gone; it’s my only chance. Another round of shots ring in the room and then a body hits the floor. I pray it’s not my dad.

  But my nightmare comes true. Through a tiny slit of one eye, I can see that the two men are still alive. I’m fading fast, as each pump of blood pushes more and more out of my body. One of the men walks past me and kicks me on the way up the stairs. It doesn’t hurt any worse than the bullets that have shredded me to pieces. I remain quiet, still, terrified they will find Nat. As the seconds go by like minutes, I wait for screaming and more gun shots, but all is quiet minus their talking back and forth. Then they both come down the stairs and one of them says, “She must not be here, let’s clear out.”

  I’m still waiting for one more bullet to my head when I feel their footsteps next to me. But they just walk past and leave. In the distance, I hear the click of both car doors and then tires
squeal. I won’t last much longer, and I’m struggling to hold on to consciousness, when Natalene shakes me abruptly.

  “Micah! Micah!” she screams resting her head against the back of mine.

  I grunt a little and she exhales loudly. “You’re going to be okay, baby, hang in there.”

  I shake my head, knowing I’m better off dead. “Go, Nat.”

  “What?” she exclaims with tears in her eyes. “No, please don’t make me go.”

  I swallow hard looking her in the eye the best that I can. She lies next to me on the floor, our faces mere inches apart. “You know the plan,” I swallow hard, “Six months.” I can barely choke out the words. In the distance is the faint sound of sirens. She’ll listen; she knows the rules of this life.

  “I love you,” she says.

  “I love you,” I reply as she kisses me. Her warm lips are my solace. I watch her feet walk away as far as I can see them. Tears well in my eyes as she leaves me for the last time. I know I won’t ever see her again, regardless of what happens. It’s the only way to keep her safe.

  Judge Francis calls order in the court, and I have to laugh internally at the prosecution’s lame attempt to implicate our client as a murderer. Vincent, our newest partner, is to my left, and C.J., co-founder of our firm with me, is to my right. This is the day that we all have been waiting for, our chance to prove that Josephine Pascal is innocent. Going into this, I’d say this case was cut and dry with her alibi being airtight, but today she looks extremely nervous. We have drilled her over and over again, and every time she’s been calm and collected. But today… something’s off.

  She’s fiddling with the corner of the notepad in front of her, the sound of the tiny amount of paper being flipped again and again driving me crazy. Leaning over, I whisper in Vincent’s ear, “Stop her with the fucking paper.” He nods once and relays the message to Mrs. Pascal. She places her hands in her lap and looks around the courtroom like a scared fucking puppy.

  As the prosecution comes to rest after their opening comments, I get up and address the courtroom. It’s the same thing I’ve done so many times. Fuck, I’ve been doing this for a long time now. Hell, I could do it in my sleep. It’s a far cry from the life I used to live.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” I pause and turn to the jury, carefully calculating my next words. “I could imagine when Judge Francis read the indictment to you that you felt a flurry of emotions. Murder is the most horrific crime; it’s something unimaginable that no one should ever have to fall victim to. Today, the prosecution is asking you to believe that Josephine Pascal killed her husband, Hector Pascal. They believe that she snapped in a fit of rage on their wedding night and shot him in their bedroom. But standing here before you, I can assure you that Mrs. Pascal did not kill her husband. I can tell you that Josephine loved Hector a great deal and was so happy to have finally married him. They’d been together for years, and her dream of becoming husband and wife had finally come true. Why would she take that away? Why would she crush her own dreams? There is nothing in this world that would make Mrs. Pascal commit such a crime. There is no disputing that her husband was shot and that her hands were covered in his blood. However, she found him bleeding to death and she panicked. She did what any loving wife would have done in such a horrific moment. She tried to save him. As we proceed with this trial, the testimonies along with the evidence will all show you that Mrs. Pascal didn’t commit the crimes she is being charged with, because she’s simply not capable. So the state is going to have to prove without a reasonable doubt that Mrs. Pascal is guilty of these crimes. I’m asking you to look at all angles of this case, and if you do not believe—”

  “Objection,” one of the prosecution’s attorneys calls.

  “Overruled. Please proceed, Mr. Brown.”

  “If you do not believe without a doubt, that the state has proven their case, then the verdict has to be not guilty.” I look every juror in the eye, before taking my seat. “Thank you, your Honor,” giving a stern look to the prosecutors as I sit down. They know that this case is over. They know that without a murder weapon and lack of evidence pointing to Josephine, they are fucked.

  We break before proceeding, and the guys and I head out of the courtroom. “You hungry?” C.J. asks. I shake my head, not feeling like eating.

  Down the hall comes the detective who booked our office manager and Vincent’s soon to be sister-in-law, Bridgette’s, kidnapper. He has a huge grin on his face. “What’s up, Liam?”

  “Detective Normitt, you remember my colleagues, Vincent and C.J.?”

  They shake hands. “Of course I do. Vincent, your fiancé’s sister is going to love what just happened!”

  “Please tell me some good news,” Vincent says.

  “David Boulge took a plea deal. Bridgette’s not going to have to testify.”

  “Fuck yeah,” I blurt out, probably a little bit too loud, but I feel for her and Troy, too. This has been weighing heavily on their shoulders, and I was an instrumental part in finding her, so it’s stuck with me. I want justice for them. The detective’s phone rings, he looks at it and says, “I gotta take this, but I wanted you guys to know since you were such a help in this whole ordeal.”

  “Thanks, man, really appreciate it,” I say, and he walks off. Vincent is already on his phone, I assume calling his fiancé, Alexa. “I’m gonna call Troy,” I tell C.J., knowing C.J.’s gonna be aggravated to have to wait to eat. But we don’t all eat like horses.

  “Are you kidding me? I gotta eat, man, I’m out of here.”

  I smirk at his lame ass attempt to sound pissed. Dialing Troy’s phone number, I step over to the large wall of windows that overlooks the city.

  “Hey, Troy, it’s Liam. Listen, I wanted you to hear this from me first. I’m not sure if Bridgette knows yet, but that fucker David just took a plea deal.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, she’s not going to have to testify against him. It’s finally over.”

  He exhales loudly into the phone. “Thank you, Liam. I don’t even know…”

  “Don’t mention it. It’s done and she’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

  We hang up, and the events that took place with Bridgette start to roll through my mind. Lately they have been creeping up on me, taking me back to a dark time in my life, a time that I’ve suppressed. Living for so many years in fear of retaliation, worrying that Moretti would take Natalene from me, I’ve tried my best to keep it pushed to the back of my mind. To fully disappear into my life as Liam and let Micah go. Then when Bridgette was taken, so scared and vulnerable, seeing someone I care about endangered and feeling scared for her life, I couldn’t help but think that could be my Nat out there somewhere. And it sparked something inside of me, a need to make sure that she is safe, but I can’t go there. So I push the thought away to keep in control. I can’t afford to make a mistake, especially with the new me.

  Funny that it’s been ten years, yet it still feels “new,” even as I’ve embraced being the supposedly straight-laced lawyer, do-gooder, Liam Brown. But it’s the last place Moretti would ever look. I became a defender of the accused and it’s kept me safe. It’s kept me sane. It’s kept me from thinking about Natalene…until now.

  “Are you sure you’re good?” Vincent asks me as I sit behind my desk a little clouded by my thoughts.

  “He’s fine,” C.J. chimes in. “He’s just being a bitch ’cause I kicked ass in the courtroom today.”

  Pulling myself from the messy daze that confounds me, I respond, “I’m fine. Just thinking about tomorrow.”

  C.J. adds, “I know what you mean, man. Who knew the fucking murder weapon would show up on day one in court?”

  “No one saw it coming,” Vincent says, “But we’ll handle it, like we always do.” I nod a few times looking down at the photograph of the presumed murder weapon, trying to pinpoint what could have happened. Did Josephine have something to do with all of this?

  “What?”
C.J. asks. “What’s with the look?”

  “I wanna go see Josephine; I need to talk to her more about this.”

  “No way, we talked with her about it already. She doesn’t know a thing.”

  “But what if she’s lying?”

  “She’s our client,” Vincent says. “We’re not gonna accuse her of something just because a gun popped up. She hired us to defend her, and that’s what we’re gonna do.”

  “I’m not accusing her of anything. I just want her to show us how she handles a gun. My gut is telling me that she might have done this. You guys know the prosecutors will do the same thing.”

  “We can prep her, but we can’t doubt her,” Vincent protests. “You know that’s our number one rule.”

  “But—”

  “But, nothing,” he cuts me off as C.J. lies down on the leather couch in my office and begins to throw a blue racketball up in the air, over and over.

  I have to add, “If she was right there when the supposed robbers shot him, why didn’t they shoot her too?”

  “Maybe she did do it,” Vincent says. “But that’s not for us to decide.”

  “How do we defend that? In this case, we’ve built our entire defense around there being no murder weapon,” C.J. says.

  “We’ll work all night to find a different angle,” I say.

  I wake to the warm sun shining through my office window. My back is tight from sleeping sitting up and my neck is so stiff I feel like a robot. In front of me is a cup of coffee, and I know I have my godsend of an assistant, Max, to thank for this. Outside of my office, I hear voices. Taking a minute to wake up, I rub my hands over my face, exhaling all of the pent up stress that’s inside of me. Today is going to be brutal. Last night we worked relentlessly to come up with a different angle for Josephine’s defense. But we all know that the prosecutors now have the upper hand.

  Taking a sip of my coffee, I’m grateful that C.J. and Vincent will be doing all of the talking in court today. I need a break…yesterday was a lot. There’s a light knock on the door and I look to see Max with a fresh suit in his hand. “Good Morning, Mr. Brown.” I really should have picked a different last name than Brown when I disappeared. Really didn’t think that one through. Ten years and it still sounds dumb as fuck.