Hiding Behind Love Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Title Page

  Hiding

  Behind

  Love

  By,

  Karly

  Morgan

  Copyright © 2018 Cheryln Davis

  Hiding Behind Love

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  ISBN-13: 978-1985242241

  ISBN-10: 1985242249

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  Written by, Karly Morgan

  Edited by: Brandi Salazar

  Cover Design by Katrina Curry of Crimson Phoenix Creations

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. 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 owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright © 2018 Cheryln Davis

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Carissa

  I climbed off the Greyhound in the middle of nowhere, still looking over my shoulder. I didn’t see anyone following me, but I knew well how deceptive looks could be. I had no idea how much of a head start I had or if my father’s men were closing in on my heels, but I’d be damned if they dragged me back without one hell of a fight. I was done doing Daddy’s bidding.

  Determination flowing through my exhausted body, I hiked the strap of my bag over my shoulder and grabbed hold of the rolling suitcase the driver passed to me from the cargo hold in the belly of the bus and headed off. I didn’t have a clue where I was, which I hoped was a pretty good indication they didn’t know either.

  I’d purchased multiple tickets to various destinations via plane, train, and bus to confuse the guys my father would send after me once he realized I was missing, and the bus I’d hopped on heading west. I didn’t ride anywhere near its destination of Santa Barbara, CA. All I knew for certain was that this stop was several states before California.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, I looked around at the small town I’d landed in. People nodded and gave me curious looks as I passed but didn’t bother me, which suited me just fine. I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to blend in and hide.

  As I started to pass the local diner, my stomach rumbled its violent plea for food. It had been at least a day since I’d paused long enough to eat anything more than a granola bar or bag of chips I could grab at a gas station. It wasn’t used to doing without meals or having to digest junk food. My father had always made sure I’d had the best of everything—food included—growing up.

  Deciding I was probably safe for the moment, I ducked into the diner and found a booth in the back of the restaurant, preferring not to wait to be seated. The waitress, an older woman with a kind smile and warm eyes, immediately headed my way, menu in one hand, glass of water in the other.

  “Mornin’, hon. My name’s Angie and I’ll be takin’ care of ya today. What can I getcha ta drink?” she asked with a friendly smile I couldn’t help but return. There was no sense in being rude, after all.

  “Coffee please,” I practically begged her, and she nodded before heading behind the counter to fill a cup and bring it back. I’d barely glanced down at the menu before she’d returned.

  “Here ya go, sweetie. Any idea of what ya’d like ta order or do ya need a few minutes?” she asked as she set the cup and a small bowl with individually wrapped creamers on the table for me. It wasn’t the white chocolate mocha I preferred first thing in the morning, but I needed the jolt of caffeine, so I wasn’t going to complain.

  “What’s good here?” I asked as I stirred in both cream and sugar until my coffee was a milky white, and then took a sip as I waited for her suggestions.

  “Well, that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. See, my answer’s s’posed to be ever’thing accordin’ to my boss, Cliff, over there.” She poked her thumb over her shoulder at a man seated at the counter reading what looked to be the local paper, not paying any attention to Angie or my conversation. “But ‘tween you and me, your safest bet is a good ol’ fashioned omelet.”

  “Thanks for the advice. I think I’ll take a Denver omelet with fruit on the side instead of potatoes and wheat toast,” I told her appreciatively as I handed her back the menu. She took it with a nod and a smile before belting out my order like she was announcing a football game as she headed back behind the counter.

  I looked around, praying she hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention my way, but the few customers seated around the place paid her no heed. I took another sip of coffee and tried my best to relax as I waited for my order to be delivered.

  The bell above the door chimed as people came and left the diner, and I watched them all, afraid if I let my guard down, my father’s people would be on me quicker than I could blink. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my father dearly, and he’s always been an amazing father, but lately he’d become more d
emanding and pushing me to do things I didn’t want to do. I had my own ideas for the direction of my life, and they didn’t coincide with what he’d already planned out for me.

  Angie greeted everyone with a smile and most people by name as they came and went, picking up orders or making deliveries. She served a couple orders that had gone in before mine and refilled my coffee cup twice, making small talk each time that I politely returned but didn’t encourage, when my order finally came up.

  I dug in as soon as the plate hit the table, unable to hold myself back from the delectable sight in front of me. The meal was amazing, and I finished it way too soon. I wanted more but held myself back. I couldn’t be weighed down by a full stomach when I still had traveling to do. I needed to hit the road.

  Knowing I needed the energy boost, I ordered a large coffee to go and headed for the restroom. Who knew how long I’d be walking before I felt safe enough to find a place to stay for a night, and I didn’t want to have to pee in the bushes if I didn’t have to.

  On my way out, I paid my bill and collected my coffee, thanking Angie for her good service and making sure to tip her appropriately. I didn’t need her to remember me because I’d tipped too high or too low, if anyone came around asking about me. There was already a good chance she’d remember me just because I was a stranger passing through.

  “Are you just passin’ through or are you plannin’ on stayin’ a while?” Angie asked as I handed her the tip.

  “Just passing through. Thank you for everything,” I told her and turned to head out.

  “That’s a shame. We could use a few more pretty girls like you around here to keep them boys outta trouble,” she lamented, and I gave her a polite smile. I wasn’t interested in sticking around to entertain any of the boys she was referring to. I had plans. Big ones. Ones that didn’t include being forced to marry some douchebag partner my father thought was appropriate and settle down to being a Stepford wife like my mother. Doormat was not stamped on my forehead and wouldn’t ever be if I had any say in the matter.

  I stepped out of the door quickly and made a right. I didn’t know where I’d land by the end of the day, but hopefully it would be far enough away that I could sleep easy.

  I stopped in what looked to be the only store in town and grabbed some easy-to-carry snacks before continuing on, grateful that I’d only used cash because I’d left all my credit and debit cards behind. The only thing I’d brought were my driver’s license, birth certificate, and social security card. I wasn’t sure if I’d be forced to change my identity or not, but I prayed I didn’t.

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  I’d been walking for hours with the sun beating down on me from high in the sky. My throat was dry, and my stomach was back to cursing me out for lack of proper nutrition. I had been spoiled all my life, but I had to draw the line somewhere. As it was, my father had dictated just about everything in my life down to majoring in philosophy and what classes I took in college, what boys I did or didn’t date, what clothes I was allowed to buy and wear, and what friends I had. I hadn’t realized just how much control he had over me until he told me about his plans for me to marry Carver Evans, an up-and-coming attorney in his law firm who was soon to make partner if he won his next big case.

  Carver and I had met on several occasions, and I found the man to be overbearing. He was cocky and arrogant, so full of himself he made my stomach turn. He was the type of man who felt as if the world owed him everything, me included. There was no way in hell I was spending the rest of my life married to that pompous asshole. The way he looked at me also sent warning chills down my spine. Even thoughts about him made me shiver, as if someone had just passed over my grave.

  I’d tried numerous times to reason with my father, but he wouldn’t listen. His mind was made up and that’s all there was to it, so I began planning my escape. I searched online for the most popular travel destinations across the United States and used my credit card to buy over a dozen tickets to various locations about an hour or so before I left the house and all I’d ever really known behind.

  Knowing my father didn’t care that I’d wanted to work with horses growing up hurt, but it hadn’t been the end of the world. I’d been biding my time, having planned on getting my degree in philosophy to make him happy, moving out, and then going back to school for what I really wanted to do. I figured we’d all end up happy in the end, so what did it matter if I had to wait longer to achieve my goals? Instant gratification wasn’t everything.

  After everything I’d done to keep my father happy, it still wasn’t enough. He’d gone so far as to threaten to cut me out of his will and leave everything to my good-for-nothing cousin if I didn’t shut up and marry Carver. One thing he’d never understood about me was that I didn’t care about the money, houses, cars, clothes, or other material things.

  Since my tenth birthday and the horseback riding lessons I’d received as a gift, all I’d cared about was caring for, breeding, and raising horses. They’re majestic. I loved their grace and beauty. Anytime I was around them, I felt as if I was at home, instead of awkward and misunderstood like when I was around the uptight snobs my parents always forced me to associate with.

  Like a good daughter, I played the role and toed the line right up until I couldn’t do it anymore, which landed me here, walking down the side of a road in the middle of nowhere, no clue as to which state I was even in and nothing even remotely civilized in sight. Everywhere I looked, there were fields with either what I assumed to be wheat or corn, cattle, or a rundown barn. Every now and then I’d pass a house that had seen much better days with a few pickup trucks parked in the driveways, but the farther away from the town I’d been in I got, the more spaced out those were becoming.

  To go along with the hunger and my parched throat, my feet hurt. I willed myself to keep going, following the water-colored hues in the sky as the sun sank down over the horizon. I knew I needed to find a place to crash for the night…and soon. I had no clue as to what wildlife lurked around the area at night and wasn’t all that interested in personally finding out.

  A house with a barn and stables out behind it appeared in the distance. I prayed that it might be someplace safe I could find shelter until the next morning when I’d continue on. The stables were what really gave me hope. If worse came to worst, I bunk down in there without the homeowners ever being the wiser. The less people to remember me, the safer I was.

  I carefully approached the silent house. There wasn’t a light to be seen in the windows, but it was obvious people lived there. Either they’d gone to bed early or they were out for the evening. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I quickly skirted the house and snuck through the fence, thankful the owners kept the gate well-oiled so it didn’t screech out my trespass.

  Careful not to leave any traces of my presence, I creeped into the stables and hid behind the bales of hay. The horses let out several neighs of discontent before resettling for the night. Even though I was an intruder, they knew I didn’t present a danger to them.

  I pulled my jacket out of my bag and balled it up to use as a pillow. The way the hay was stacked seemed to block out the cooler air that was settling in now that the warmth of the sun was fading away, and I prayed it was enough to keep me warm throughout the night as I adjusted myself several times, trying to get comfortable.

  It took a few tries, but I finally found a position on my side that wasn’t too uncomfortable and was out before I knew it.

  “What the hell?” a man’s voice I didn’t recognize woke me up the following morning. He was standing with the sun to his back, and I couldn’t clearly see his face as I blinked my eyes rapidly to fully wake myself up. “Who’re you and what’re ya doin’ in my stables?”

  “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” I mumbled out as I snagged my jacket and pushed to my feet. “I didn’t mean any harm. Just needed a place to sleep for the night.”

  “Ya didn’t answer my question. Who are ya?” The man propped his hands
on his hips and planted his huge feet, effectively blocking my escape. I was doing my best to keep my eyes on the floor and not look at him, but his thick, muscular thighs drew my eyes up to find chiseled abs that made me want to see even more. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting his skin, licking away the sweat that was already beginning to soak through his tight T-shirt.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I trespassed on your property. I’ll just be on my way.” I tried to sidestep him, but he moved easily to prevent me from leaving.

  “Nuh uh. Don’t work that way. Ya squat in my stables, you’re at least telling me your name and why a beautiful girl like you, who obviously isn’t from ‘round here, needs ta crash behind bales of hay instead of staying in a nice, cushy hotel room somewhere much more civilized.”

  Damn, this was getting messier by the moment, and the attraction I felt toward him was making it all the harder to leave.

  “I already know you can speak, so ya might as well start talkin’,” he said, laughter coloring his tone. Startled, I met his eyes, which twinkled with amusement.

  I thought about lying and giving him a false name, but something told me that would be a mistake. My mouth took charge where my brain seemed to be locked in an internal debate that might never be decided. “Carissa.”

  “Carissa. Now that’s a pretty name for a pretty girl. Care ta answer my other question?” he persisted, and I wondered if it had been a mistake telling him my real name. At least I hadn’t told him my last name.

  “What question was that?” I asked, tilting my chin up and squaring my shoulders. I was trying to figure a way out of this but was coming up empty. The only way out was through this man, and he didn’t seem all that inclined to move anytime soon, unless I played his game of twenty questions.

  “Why is a beautiful girl like you crashing behind bales of hay in my stables instead of stayin’ in a fancy hotel somewhere more civilized?” He shifted his stance and crossed his arms over his well-defined chest as he waited for my answer.