Between Truth & Lies: An Age Gap Romance (Rosavale Book 2) Read online

  Between Truth & Lies

  The Rosavale Series Book2

  Willa Watkins

  Copyright © 2021 Willa Watkins

  All rights reserved.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. 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 express written permission from the author/publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resembles to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental or has been used in a fictional manner.

  Published: Willa Watkins 2021 ([email protected])

  Cover Design: Teased By Antonette

  Proofreading: Sisters Get Lit.erary / Proofreading by Renea

  Also by the Author

  Rosavale Series (Kindle Unlimited)

  Between Dusk & Dawn

  Between Truth & Lies

  Between Rage & Regret (Kai & Shayleigh’s story. Coming soon)

  Note from the Author

  Thank you so much for giving my story a try, and I hope you love it.

  Before you start, there are a few things I’d like you to know. Although this is a standalone in a series, there is a sub-plot that is carried out throughout the entire series (4 books).

  The main plot in this book will have a resolution, but there are some aspects which will be carried throughout the series with answers being provided as the series progresses. However, each book will focus on a different couple with a happy ending for each of them.

  Once again, thank you for reading.

  Much Love,

  Willa

  The Lies

  “The truth doesn’t cost anything, but a lie could cost you everything.”

  - Anonymous

  One

  Devan

  As I cruised down the highway, Sam Smith’s brittle voice singing ‘Lay Me Down’ voided the silence in the car, and troublesome thoughts consumed me.

  I was losing the handle on things. First, my brother and sister were fucking and I didn’t notice. Navia might have been adopted but she was still family. And there was nothing I could do about it since Talon got her pregnant.

  Then, the recent thefts that have occurred on my farm. The last one happened two days ago, forty-three cattle were stolen and regrettably one of my employees lost their life. All I had to show for my efforts was a private investigation that led nowhere, and another dead-end from the sheriff’s department.

  Once we increased surveillance and security on the property, we had gone two months without any kind of problem. I thought they wouldn’t risk another foray onto the farm, but I was wrong. All this left me powerless because I had no idea who was behind it or how to stop it.

  I cursed under my breath. I hated this. Not being in control of things.

  Now figuring out who was behind all of this had become personal and a matter of pride. This was my farm, and the future of it depended on me. Sighing, I rolled my tense shoulders.

  As the sun set, the last beams of light skimmed the heathland, causing the hues of green and purple to blend into gray under the rising moonlight. While I drove down the lone country road, I turned off the music and lowered the window, allowing the breeze to blow on my skin. I could hear a whistling in my ears, as well as the revving of the engine getting diffused by the roaring winds.

  I drove past Rosa—a rundown town that had become a home for criminals. Yet another problem I had no control over.

  Groaning, I pushed my head back against the headrest and hit the brakes to slow down the car. Three miles outside of Rosavale, a rusted, silver pickup was blocking the road. I honked my horn and craned my neck out of the window to see if there was anyone inside it.

  Nothing.

  Then silence enveloped. The kind of silence that had the hairs at the back of my neck bristling.

  Immediately, a sense of danger rushed through me, causing me to jolt and sit up straight. Then sudden movements came from the tall grasses on the sides of the road. My heart pounded and my intuition told me to flee.

  But before I could react, screams broke out.

  Four men jumped out from the side of the road with guns in hand and ski masks covering their faces.

  “Get the fuck out of the car or we’ll shoot,” one yelled, as they all gained ground and moved closer toward me.

  My breath came in small spurts, hot and panicky. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and adrenaline coursed through my body as the fight or flight instinct kicked in.

  I chose to fight. But there was nowhere to run.

  Attempting to reverse would surely result in a bullet carved inside of me. Therefore, I drew my pistol that was nestled under my seat and blood rapidly pumped through my veins. I parted my lips, taking in more air, and fired the first round. The bullet discharged from the chamber glowed red in the darkness, and pierced a hole through the windshield.

  It hit one of the men in the chest, propelling him backward in an awkward cartwheel, which gave me the distraction I needed. I took the chance and with my left hand, I switched gears and reversed the car. Anticipating a retaliation, I squatted without taking my foot off the gas pedal.

  The tires screeched.

  Gunshots shattered the air.

  And the car jolted with the impact of the bullets. I heard a pop and then another and the car began slowing down. They must have hit the front tires.

  “Shit,” I cursed, still crouched.

  As the car came to a complete standstill, my heart was pounding and my lungs were pumping so fast, but the air didn’t seem to be enough for me to catch my breath. Their voices came out clear and were louder as they surrounded the car.

  Whether I surrendered or not, it was possible that in either case, I wouldn’t have made it out alive. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And at this point it was clear that they didn’t want my car, if they did, they wouldn’t be shooting at it relentlessly.

  That meant only one thing. They wanted me.

  A certain coldness replaced the terror, preparing me for what was to come. I would rather die than surrender to these low-life thugs.

  They stopped shooting and the eerie stillness returned.

  I had shot the one on the right and calculated my odds that there was only one on that side and assumed two were on the left. I quickly weighed my options and crawled to the passenger side of the car, near the door. I wasn’t a killer, but I was prepared to kill to save myself from this situation.

  “Throw the gun away. We just want the car,” one of them bellowed from the left.

  Focused and breathing hard, I wrapped my hand firmly on the gun. I took a deep breath and prepared to die fighting.

  In a flash, the image of my brothers, father, and Lola crossed my mind. I blinked the image of them away, and unbolted the door. In a quick move I rolled onto the asphalt, hearing shots popping. I fell onto my side, my eyes sweeping ahead and finding only one of them on the right side as I had imagined. I pulled the trigger and the bullet hit the mask where his nose should’ve been.

  “Son of a bitch!” Shouted one of the thugs on the left.

  They hid behind the tires and I couldn’t see their legs. But I was taken by surprise when a voice coming from above me sneered, “Move and I’ll shoot.”

  One of them was smart and hop
ped on top of the car and had his gun aimed at my head. I attempted to raise my pistol, but he was faster and shot me in the shoulder, making the gun slip from my hand with the impact.

  A searing pain took over and burned me from the inside. Grunting past the ache, I tried to retrieve the gun, but the burning in my flesh made it impossible to stretch my hand that far.

  I was on the ground, wounded, unarmed, and at his mercy. I hated being in such a vulnerable position. So much so that I barely registered the pain anymore, or the fact that I was going to die. Wincing, I dragged myself up into a sitting position.

  “Stay still you piece of shit,” he barked. “Or I’ll make sure you never move again.”

  “Go ahead!” I growled, gripping my bleeding shoulder, and stood up. The warm, thick liquid flowed through my fingers no matter how much pressure I applied. “Do it. I won’t die on my back like a coward.”

  “At least you got balls,” he laughed wryly and hopped off of the car.

  He punched me hard on my injured shoulder. The pain increased into violent waves. Each peak robbed my ability to speak, think and breath, sending me stumbling back to the ground. All I could do was writhe in agony.

  “Nah, you’ll die however I decide to kill you.”

  I blinked at the blurred image of the barrel of his gun. He leaned over me and raised it, but didn’t pull the trigger. Instead, he slammed the butt of his gun into my face repeatedly. Each strike sending immeasurable amounts of pain. I grunted with each blow.

  Red and black splotches danced across my vision, and a desperate wave of heat covered me. It was all dimming. My heart pounded loudly, each beat echoing in my ears, right alongside with my vanishing hope for survival.

  All I could register was pain. Everything hurt. And the awful smell of tar right beneath my nose made me nauseous. I tried to resist and maintain my eyes open. The harder I tried, the more the voices around me faded into a distant whisper.

  Slowly, I gazed up at the navy sky and prayed for a savior before darkness took over, filling me with a deep dread.

  Belvana

  Everything was planned down to each detail, but when Luther called and told me it was time, nervousness overwhelmed me.

  I bid farewell to Mr. Henderson, my boss at the flea market. Then rushed to my blue, beatdown Chevy, feeling a combination of anger and fear.

  I was finally going to insert myself into his life, risking everything in a revenge that came at a very high price.

  My phone rang on the passenger seat. While keeping an eye on the road that was mostly deserted after dark, I reached for it. “I’m on my way. Is everything on track?”

  “No. He was armed and shot at us.”

  I swallowed as my heart sunk. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “Yes!” Luther roared. “He killed two of my men.”

  “What?” I clenched the steering wheel so to not lose control of the car.

  “He shot one in the chest and another in the face, Belvana. I have to be honest with you, I almost lost control and killed the son of a bitch. For what he did to my brother Noah. He’s a fucking murderer. He never surrendered or pleaded for his life.”

  “My God,” I panted as bile rose in my throat and I shivered.

  The man was even worse than I imagined.

  Devan Ashford had already killed my boyfriend and Luther’s brother. Noah had disappeared after an arrest related to a burglary on the Ashford Farm. And now two more.

  That bastard thought he owned the world, a murderer like his father, who killed my grandfather and stole our lands. I took a deep, calming breath, wondering how I would pretend to be sweet and in love with a man I loathed.

  I remembered his piercing blue eyes from when I saw him for the first time, three months ago, when I attended a party at his house. It was a furtive glance. We didn’t speak, but I never forgot the fear and flustered feelings that ran through me when his hard and penetrating gaze was directed at me. The energy he emitted was different. It was powerful and seemed to somehow suffocate me.

  “I shot him,” Luther said, breaking through my thoughts. “It was the only way to stop him.”

  “That wasn’t the plan, Luther. What if he dies?”

  “If you hurry, he won’t. I shot him in the shoulder and knocked him out with a blow to the head.”

  “Luther!”

  “What was I supposed to do? Let him kill me?”

  “No. I-I don’t know,” I stuttered. “What do I do now?”

  “Stick with the plan and rescue his ass. I bet he’ll be even more grateful now since you’ll be saving his life. You better be quick. There’s barely any movement out there, but someone could drive by and see him before you.”

  “Dammit, Luther.”

  He hung up and I tossed the phone aside, making a mental note to get rid of it as soon as possible. I stepped on the gas but adhered to the speed limit to not raise any suspicion.

  The plan was simple. Luther was supposed to rob him and take his car, phone, wallet, and anything else he had on him. Then he would rough him up a bit and leave him stranded on the side of the road. I would eventually drive by and offer him a ride. From there, I’d try my best to get his attention and establish some sort of a friendship.

  Why couldn’t Devan have reacted like a normal human being?

  A part of me almost wished that that man was dead and I wouldn’t be forced to subject myself to him. Another part wished he were very much alive and fell into my trap so that I could get everything out of him, recover what was rightfully ours, and then rub it in his face.

  As I approached the designated location, I broke out into a cold sweat. The headlights illuminated the road and cast a spotlight on him. I stopped my car and scrambled out to where he was on the opposite side of the road. Once my eyes caught sight of him, an awful knot twisted in the pit of my stomach and stopped me dead in my tracks.

  Devan’s head was slumped to the side. Part of his face and dark hair were stained with blood which spread from his shoulder to his right arm and chest, soaking his clothes. I had never seen so much blood in my life. From what little I could see of his face, he appeared to be ashen and pallor in his complexion.

  “What did you do, Luther?” I muttered, falling to my knees beside him. I noticed the slight rising and falling of his chest. He was alive. But still, I held onto his wrist to check for a pulse. His warm skin seemed to burn under my touch as I felt a strong rhythmic pulse.

  Devan groaned, turning his head toward me. He opened his mesmerizing blue eyes and fixed them on me. Startled, I fell backward with a shrill scream.

  I wanted to get up and run, but then his voice came out low and fierce, immobilizing me. “Who are you?”

  He scanned the surroundings as if to confirm that I was alone. When he started to get up, moaning in pain, I reacted, becoming the Belvana who I would be thereon. Docile and innocent.

  “Don’t move, you’re bleeding.” I shifted back onto my knees next to him, forcing myself to touch his chest, keeping him in place. “I thought you were dead. Let me get help.”

  Before I had a chance to move, he grabbed my wrist with his left hand with an iron grip that made me gasp. His face was hard and bloody, but nothing lessened the strength of his gaze, nor did it alleviate the brutally harsh expression on his face.

  As if he couldn’t bear to stay down any longer, he forced himself up. He released my wrist but never took his eyes off mine. His gaze held me captive, forcing me to remain rooted in place.

  “Where are the others?” he demanded.

  “What others?” I whispered, attempting to sound as sincere as possible. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was on my way home from work and I saw you laying here and I came to check on you.”

  “Where am I?”

  “The highway.”

  The wrinkle between his eyes became more pronounced as he prepared himself to take a step.

  “Sir, you’re hurt, please, let me help you. My car is over there.” I glanced ove
r my shoulder, pointing to the other side of the road. “Let me take you to a hospital.”

  “I can walk.” He kept his left arm on his shoulder and took a small step. He staggered a little and I thought it was disorientation because of the blood loss.

  Devan was much stronger than we had thought and I was bewildered. I got up too and stood there, not knowing what to do as he looked around at the deserted road. He was tall and despite being slender, he had broad shoulders.

  I rushed to his side and placed my hands on his back and stomach—surprised by the firm and taut muscles beneath my fingers—to help him maintain his balance; trying at least to make myself useful. He took a few steps toward the road, at first careful, but soon becoming steadier.

  “Let me help you. Rosavale is a few minutes from here and I can get you to a hospital.”

  “You can let me go. I can walk.” His tone softened. But he was pale and stopped, taking in deep ragged breaths. “I can make it there.”

  “No, you can’t. You’ll pass out again. It looks as if you’ve already lost a lot of blood.”

  “Do you have a phone?” He panted, struggling to stay upright. His lips were beginning to have a bluish tint and his jacket and shirt were soaked in blood; I honestly felt bad for him. Although weak, he fought to remain conscious and standing.

  “I do.” I pulled out the device from my pocket. “Sir, please sit. You’ll fall and hurt yourself more. And I don’t have the strength to pick you back up.”

  “Call my house.” He clenched his jaw hard and tried to fix his gaze on me, but he seemed to lose focus. I don’t know how, but he managed to mumble the numbers and I dialed.

  He then oscillated and I held him up so he wouldn’t fall forward when his legs finally gave out, taking us both to the ground.

  Sitting next to him, I lifted his head and he dropped it on my shoulder. His breath prickled on my neck and his battered body dominated mine. Soon after he lolled to his left side, overcome by his injuries, and passed out. I held on to his head so he wouldn’t hit it and slowly I laid it on the ground.