Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1)
Read Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1) Online
Authors: L.A. Cotton,Jenny Siegel
Tags: #The Maverick Defense Series, #Book 1
Published by Delesty Books
First E-Book Edition
Copyright © 2016 L. A. Cotton & Jenny Siegel
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
If you are reading a copy of this book that has not been purchased from a licensed retailer please destroy it. Thank you for your support.
Edited by Jenny Carlsrud Sims of
www.editing4indies.com
Cover designed by Robin Harper of
www.wickedbydesigncovers.com
Formatting by Stacey Blake of
www.champagneformats.com
Image licensed from Shutterstock
Table of Contents
SNEAK PEEK FROM LOYALTY AND LIES
SNEAK PEEK FROM QUARTER MILE HEARTS
Titles by L A Cotton
T
HE
M
AVERICK
D
EFENSE SERIES
S
TANDALONE
N
OVELS
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Titles by Jenny Siegel
A G
OOD
G
IRL SERIES
A
MERICAN
M
USCLE SERIES
T
HE
M
AVERICK
D
EFENSE SERIES
“M
orning, Betty,” I called as I entered the run-down diner where I worked a few shifts a week.
“Hey, doll. Good weekend?” a voice replied from out back.
Same old,
I thought to myself as I rolled off some white lies about the weather ruining my plans.
“Hank’s on the rampage again. You might want to smile that pretty smile of yours in his direction this morning.”
Shit. Hank was the owner of Hank’s Diner, and while he let Betty run things day-to-day, he didn’t like tardiness. I’d struggled the last couple of weeks to make it in on time due to … complications. Betty covered for me when she could, but he had it out for me. Not that I blamed him. Nothing stayed private in the small town of Chancing, and people just loved sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.
I’d given up trying to change people’s opinions of me a long time ago. Now, I just shrugged off their whispers and disapproving glances. There were bigger things in my life to worry about than keeping the likes of Old Lady Mae and Susie Davenport entertained.
I set about making sure the tables were clean and tidy before the breakfast crowd arrived. While I worked out front taking orders and serving, Betty handled the hot plate out back. Her nephew, Reed, helped out a couple of mornings a week, and my friend, Caryn, waited tables during the afternoons. It wasn’t
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, but it was a job.
My
job—the only thing in my life I could call my own anymore.
Hank barreled through the old-style swinging door separating the kitchen and diner and made a beeline for me. “We need to talk, little lady.”
Flashing him my best smile, I gathered up the cleaning fluid and sashayed past him.
“Joy, don’t go running off on me. We need to talk. You were late twice last week and three more times these last two months. I won’t have tardy staff working in my place. There are plenty more young girls willing to fill your shoes, darling.”
Shudders rippled through me. Hank was a harmless old man, but I didn’t appreciate the drawl in his tone or the feel of his eyes checking out my slender curves as I continued wiping tables.
“Joy.”
Spinning on my heels, I flashed him another smile. “Hank. I already apologized and cleared things up with Betty. It won’t happen again.”
I hope.
“I’ve had some stuff going on, and well, life got in the way there for a second. But this job means a lot to me, and I really need to hang onto it.”
The old man’s flushed round face softened a little. He was putty in my hand now. I just hoped I could follow through on my promise. I needed this job. More than Betty or Hank or the people of Chancing and their gossip mill would ever truly know.
After a grueling shift at Hank’s, I walked the short distance to my one-bedroom apartment. I debated going to Mikey’s again, but I’d stayed there two nights in a row. It was time to go home.
Home
. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. Wasn’t home supposed to be somewhere you felt safe, loved, and comfortable? Not somewhere that had your skin crawling and your stomach spinning faster than the laundromat. I hated the place; the smoke-tinged curtains, damp, stained walls, and hand-me-down appliances. Everything about it. But next to my job at the diner, it was all I had.
I turned the key and gave the door a forceful nudge. Everything looked the same. Including the wilting calla lilies in the grimy vase positioned on the only windowsill in the whole place. My bag clattered to the floor and I swept the vase off the sill dumping the lilies in the trashcan.
He
could keep his poor attempt at an apology. After all this time, he still thought some lame-ass flowers would make it up to me.
Nothing
on this earth
would fix us. Fix me. I’d given up on waiting for my knight in shining armor to ride in and save me. He was just a figment of my imagination now. A myth. So much so, I wondered if he’d ever been real in the first place.
My purse vibrated and I rinsed my hands, retrieving my cell phone. “Hey, Mikey.”
“Joy,” he responded curtly. I’d learned a long time ago that was just his way. “You went back?”
“Don’t I always?”
“You could have stayed here longer. Get your head straight, try and figure shit out.”
“I’ve spent the last three years trying to figure shit out. This is my life. I appreciate you looking out for me, though.”
Mikey coughed and I could imagine his face contorting at my compliment. “Well, you know I’m always here. Daw- hmm, he would want it that way.”
My heart skipped a beat at just the almost mention of his name. But neither of us referred to him by name anymore—a pact we made when we realized he wasn’t coming back for us.