PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Shapeshifter Romance: The Vampire's Stolen Bride (BBW Fantasy Alpha Male Romance Books) (New Adult Vampire Fun Mature Young Adult Billionaire Steamy Love and Romance Novella) (30 page)

He was holding his side obviously in pain and Kimmy fought back the tears knowing that she had caused it. She checked his bandage and was relieved to see that she had not ripped his stitches, but still upset that she had hurt him. She gave him an extra dose of his pain medication just as the two officers walked into the room.

“Rick,” one of them said, tipping his hat.

Rick told Kimmy who the officers were and asked that they be left alone for a few moments. Kimmy nodded her head not sure whether to be upset or not, about him not wanting her there for the conversation.

She tried not to let it get to her, but found it difficult. She stood in the hallway ease dropping on what was being said. The officers told Rick that they had received a phone call about his mother’s case, connecting it to other cases across the country. Kimmy had already known this because she was the one that had made the phone call. She did not want Rick to know that she had been looking into the case, she felt that he would feel it was odd and that she was out of place doing so.

The officers told Rick that a man had been arrested in connection with several of the other cases and had been in prison many years for murder charges. She heard Rick sigh as he listened to what was being said. The officers then told him that they had shown the man a picture of Rick’s mother and due to his reaction they believed he was responsible for her death as well.

They finished by telling Rick that they were going to order excavation of the site where several other bodies of his victims had been found so that they could finally lay his mother to rest and close the case.

The men excused themselves and left Rick to think about what they had said. Rick stared at the ceiling, wondering if he should call his family and inform them of the news, but decided not to until there were some definite answers. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about how long and hard everyone had searched for her and that she had been dead the entire time.

His heart broke as he wondered what she had gone through in her last moments and if she had thought about him. Kimmy walked into the room looking down at the floor. She had seen the pain on his face and felt as if she had caused it. She had hoped that knowing what had happened to his mother would bring him relief, but realized that it made him question how he had spent every moment of his entire life.

She refused to tell him that she had been the one to find the information, she knew that it would make him question his ability as a police officer and that he would not understand that he was too close to the case to see what was right in front of him.

Rick looked up and gave a small smile to Kimmy. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said, softly.

“Oh,” Rick replied, having completely forgotten about the pain she had caused when she jumped up out of the chair, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Kimmy stood awkwardly, unsure of what she should do, “I think I am going to go check in at the hospital,” she said, knowing he needed time alone to process everything that had happened, “Call me if you need anything.”

Rick nodded his head and Kimmy headed out the door fighting back the tears. She wondered if him finding out about his mother had ruined the best thing she had known in a very long time. She drove to the hospital concerned about how he would react to knowing, but also concerned about how he was going to react to her.

She regretted making love to him and wished that she had never volunteered to be his home nurse. She began to feel that same heartache that she had felt so many years ago when she had her heart broken for the first time.

Kimmy dried her face and fixed her makeup doing the best that she could to ensure no one knew that she had been crying. She checked in at the nurse’s station and began making rounds, checking on patients and filling their medications. The entire time her mind was with Rick. She wished that she had stayed with him. She feared how he would react to knowing he had spent his entire life looking for someone who was dead.

When Kimmy left, Rick knew that he had upset her by sending her out of the room, but he had assumed he was getting informed of his punishment for not following protocol at the time and had no idea that what the officers had come to tell him had to do with his mother. He cared deeply about Kimmy but also wondered if they had been moving too quickly. He did not want to hurt her and feared that he already had but only hoped that she would forgive him.

The more he thought about his relationship with Kimmy the more he realized that they were not moving too quickly. He cared deeply about her and being shot made him realize that he did not know when his life would end. He could die at any moment and he wanted to get the most out of whatever time he had left. He was unsure what the future would hold for the two of them, but he could not allow her to walk out of his life upset with him.

Rick sent her a text asking that she come back to the house as soon as possible. He told her that he was fine and not to worry, but he wanted her there with him. When Kimmy received the message she could not help but smile down at her cell phone. She had feared that she had lost him. She had been unable to focus at work and had even considered taking the rest of the day off simply to ensure she did not mess up anyone’s medication due to her lack of focus. He was all that she could think about and her heart leapt for joy when she received his message.

Kimmy quickly finished what she was doing, informed the nurse’s station that she had to go back to Rick’s house and headed out the door. This time she was all smiles and ready to see the man that she was quickly falling in love with.

Kimmy arrived at Rick’s house and found him waiting for her on the recliner. She climbed into it next to him and without saying a word he began kissing her. Kimmy felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of her shoulders as she sank into the chair.

“I’m sorry,” Rick said, gently, as he looked into her eyes.

Kimmy smiled and nodded. “Me too,” she replied. Rick thought that she was sorry for leaving, but she was sorry for much more than that. She vowed that someday she would tell him that she was the one that had found out about his mother, but today was not doing to be that day. Today she was going to enjoy the time that she had with the only man that she cared about. Today was about pleasure, not about explanations.

THE END

Hot Night with the Congressman

Chapter 1

              “Will you be giving a speech tonight at the PRPC event? Chairwoman Harris would like to know so that she can make the necessary adjustments to a presentation they’d like to do, if need be.”

              “I’m not going.”

              “You’re not?”

              “No.”

              “But sir, they’re expecting you, and I already confirmed.”

              “Chantelle, I said no.”

              I’ve just about had it with his last-minute decisions—ones that I always have to vouch for. It’s as if he doesn’t care about his reputation at all, as if he’s oblivious to what people are saying about him.

              “Big mistake,” I remark, setting a reminder on my phone to have Bryn, his campaign manager cancel before the end of the day. No matter how many times I tell her to stop giving out his business office number, I still receive calls daily from people who should be either contacting his campaign headquarters or the congressional office in Tallahassee—not the investment firm.

              “Wait, what was that?” he inquires, looking up from his computer screen. I’d forgotten that I even said anything.

              “Sir, if I’m not overstepping my bounds, I think you’re making a huge mistake by not at least making an appearance tonight.”

              He is fixed on his computer monitor. I swallow my pride. The past few months have just been awkward. Press has not been so kind to him, and his opponent is leading by five percentage points in early polling. I’m not on his campaign staff, but I’ve managed his firm for years as his office assistant. He needs to hear an honest perspective from someone outside of the campaign—from someone other than his re-election staff.                           

              “Thank you for your suggestion, but I have a Field Director already. I think we’re going about my itinerary in the most meaningful, productive way.”

              I hesitate to walk away. There’s too much at stake here: his incumbency, the future of this company, my inability to continue working for a person who has done little to demonstrate anything but his propensity toward throwing money and influence around to solve problems.

              For about two weeks now, he’s been highly criticized in the press as being quite loyal to neighborhoods that award key projects to contracting businesses he invests in. Many of these communities are predominantly African-American—including Parramore, the area where I grew up, and the home of the neighborhood council expecting him at their function tonight. It’s bad enough that Orlando Life and Times Journal recently described him as being a billionaire pickpocket. The suspicion is that he’s buying votes by providing opportunity for
certain
communities. The Central Florida Monthly, an offbeat, widely-distributed paper in the downtown area, recently featured him on their cover, photoshopped with a superhero cape under the headline: “David. E. Orange: The Opportunist.”

              Yes, he’s invested heavily in gentrifying low-income areas of Central Florida, but I’ve followed his career for years. I wrote my graduating thesis on how his firm, Orange Investments, has actually single-handedly brought more investment opportunities the city. Because of his firm, other industries are seeking out Orlando because unemployment rates have steadily declined. Most people here are now thriving because of Congressman Orange’s belief in making every citizen of his district a working citizen. Employed people fuel the economy. He’s actually used his powers for good.

              “Is there something else I can help you with?”

I realize I’ve been standing in his office a beat too long, and I figured I’d better say something now or never. “This event may only be a twenty-dollar-per-plate dinner, but this group makes up almost twenty percent of your district’s base. No, these aren’t the biggest checks being written, but you need every single one of their votes. The last thing you want to do is stiff them because you don’t think they’re rich enough.”

              There, I said it.

              He doesn’t budge.

              “I’ve got prior commitments I can’t get out of, Chantelle.” When he doesn’t look up at me, I know the conversation is over.

              “Very well. I’ll let them know.”

              “No, I’ll call when I’m finished here. The least I can do is extend a personal thank-you to Chairwoman Harris for all of her hard work and support.”

              I smile and nod politely even though I’m angry and disappointed with him. He’s grown so cold and impersonal recently. He can’t stiff this fundraiser tonight. It would be political suicide.

              I close his door quietly behind me. Irritated that after all of these years, the rumors might be true. From his track record, I’d think he’d see the importance in not neglecting a city that’s almost one hundred percent on his side.

              After hearing his lame-ass excuse for not going today, I’m beginning to wonder how much truth there may be in Orange being an opportunist, exclusively interested in his personal gain.

              I remember when I first walked in his door for my interview. He struck me as being a lot better-looking in person than I’d seen in publications. Tall, sturdy in his build, but not as intimidating as I imagined he’d be. He seemed very interested in what I had to say. I told him that I’d followed his career, and that he was the reason I decided to study political science at University of Central Florida. He asked what my career goals were. I told him I wasn’t sure, but that I’d make a great assistant because of my critical eye for detail, impeccable organization skills, and reliable transportation.

              He chuckled, asked, “Reliable transportation?” I said I know how important it is to have an assistant who is self-sufficient, prompt, and available when needed. That my mother and father said the most important thing a person can be to the community around them, their family, and friends, is reliable. He closes by saying he’s fascinated that I’m choosing to seek assistant jobs when my background alludes to my interest in politics. I explained to him honestly that I found the science of politics insulting to everyday people, but still believed in the influence a good person can have by being a light to anyone around them. I explained that I was way more comfortable with utilizing my skills to support more grassroots or organizing efforts in the form of office support, as opposed to winning at the game of politics.

              “So you’re shy,” I remember him saying perceptively. Reading me perfectly. I gathered that I’d amused him, and that hoped I didn’t make an ass of myself.  So I just about fainted when I’d gotten back to my car to see I had two missed calls from him. The voice message he left in a very low, rumbly tone said that he wanted to personally call me to let me know that the position was mine if I wanted it, and that he was hoping to catch me before I left to see how soon I could start.