Fracture

Fracture

Copyright © 2014 Aliyah Burke

Cover Art © Covers by K Designs

Sensual Romance Publishing Logo © MMJ
Designs

Editor: Jessica Bimberg

ISBN:
9781310806308

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This book is a work of fiction. All characters,
places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not
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Published by: Sensual Romance Publishing at
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Fracture

By

Aliyah Burke

Dedication

To those who give of themselves to help others in
need. You’re angels.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Additional Books By Aliyah Burke

About The Author

Chapter One

“Copy that, dispatch. I’m slowing down to check it
out now.” Vicki Boshay ended the call and slowed her cop car to
make the easy turn into the park. She loved her job. The full moon
shone above, but what was odd was the fog, thicker than normal. Her
headlights struggled to cut a clear path through it.

Even so, they highlighted a darkened truck as her
turn swung them over the vehicle. “All’s quiet from outward
appearances,” she informed Tim, who was running dispatch tonight.
Pulling up behind the rusted beater, she scanned around her while
inputting the license plate number in her computer.

“Daniel Ellery? That’s not making sense; Dan’s been
dead for five years now.” She ran it again to make sure she’d not
made a mistake. Same reply came up on the screen. “Now, that’s just
weird. Tim?”

“Yes, Vicki?”

“This vehicle is registered to Daniel Ellery. I’m
going to check it out and before you ask, yes, I ran it twice.
Everything is up to date on it, and we both know Daniel’s been dead
and buried for a few years now.”

“Be careful, Vicki. I’ll let the sheriff know.”

“Will do.”

Clouds began to cover the moon, and the fog grew
thicker than pea soup. Opening her door, she stepped out. She
clicked on her MagLite, the LED cutting easily through the
gathering fog.

“Hello?” she called out, approaching slowly. “Is
anyone there? CFPD.”

Behind her, the red and blue lights from her car
faded a bit. She checked the bed. Rusted holes on the wheel wells
and a few spots by the tailgate were the only things she found,
along with a pair of relatively new boots. Stepping up to the
driver’s door, she shone the light in the rolled up window. Nobody
was there, and other than remnants of fast food eating, nothing
else jumped out at her.

She made her way around to the hood and checked it
for heat. Cool to the touch, so it had been there a while. This
park was the farthest from Cottonwood Falls, a good thirty miles
out, but her department still patrolled it. Reaching up for the
mike on her shoulder, she informed Tim of what she’d discovered, or
lack of.

Vicki widened her search just a bit and did a few
laps around the truck, calling out to see if anyone was there.
After her unsuccessful attempts, she strode back to her patrol car
and slipped behind the wheel.

“Heading back in, Tim.”

“See you in a few.”

She put the car in gear and drove on. Small town
life fit her perfectly. She’d done the larger city living and had
hated it with a passion she still wasn’t able to put into words.
Her headlights gave her a five-foot view from the hood of her car.
Even so, when she saw the silhouette, the shock of seeing someone
before her hit her
.

“What the hell is someone doing walking out here?
And at this time of night?” Two in the morning was typically the
time when nothing went on.

She hit her cherry bar lights, and the figure
slowed, angling toward the road. Male. Six-four, about
two-thirty-five. A large pack was slung over his left shoulder. His
face was hidden by a ball cap he’d pulled down over his eyes. What
she could see of him was harsh, a firm mouth that didn’t appear to
have smiled in ages.

She lowered the window and pulled up next to him.
“Can I help you? Offer you a ride into town?”

“No, thanks.” His low voice plucked at her like a
guitarist picks his strings. Deliberate.

He turned away and resumed walking.

She edged along, as well. “I’m not done talking to
you yet. May I see some identification, please? Is that your truck
back there in the parking lot of Tourin Park?”

Everything about him went rigid, and she settled her
hand on her service weapon, ensuring not to change her
expression.

“Yes, it’s my truck.” He reached into his pocket and
withdrew a small rectangle of plastic. His movements slow as if he
knew she was jumpy. Or he knew the routine.

She maneuvered ahead of him and got off the road.
Light in hand and the other lingering on the butt of her pistol,
she neared him. “Can you explain why it’s registered to a man who’s
been dead for five years?”

His hat continued to hide his eyes, but she had no
doubt he was sizing her up. He reached out and handed his ID to
her. “Sure. Daniel was my brother.”

Those words barely registered as she read the name
on the card. Chase Aaron Ellery.

“Chase,” she said. “Haven’t seen you around these
parts in a while.”
Not even for your brother’s funeral.
He
took back his card.

“Haven’t been back until now. Can I go now?” The
hint of impatience in his tone grated on her nerves.

“Why don’t you let me give you a ride back to town.
I’m assuming that’s where you’re headed.”

“No, thanks. I’ve spent enough time in the back of
police cars, and I’m sure not entertaining another Boshay by
allowing them to put me into one. I’ll walk, if it’s all the same
to you.”

She couldn’t ignore the anger that tinged his words
that time. Vicki understood his comments. She’d been the rich girl.
Him—wrong side of the tracks.

“So ride in the front. Christ, Chase, we used to go
to school together. Let me give you a ride. It’s way to dangerous
to be walking out here in this fog, and you still have another
fifteen miles to town.” She put steel behind her words. “Get
in.”

The defiant set to his chin increased before he
stepped forward, allowing her to see his facial features.
Damn.
Chase Ellery had gone and got himself all growed up.
The boy had become one hell of a man.

Harsh. Cold. Angry. Still had those incredible
cerulean blue eyes, however, that she recalled from school. Right
now, they were focused on her.

Chase walked by to the passenger seat and climbed
in. She closed her eyes before breathing deeply and getting behind
the wheel.

“You have a room at the hotel?” She put the car in
gear and shut off the flashing lights.

“Nope.”

“Need one?”

“Nope.”

She ground her jaw. “Where are you staying that
you’d like me to drop you off?”

“Home. If you go to that side of the tracks.”

Another dig.
Also well deserved.
Didn’t stop
her from gritting her teeth. “Not a problem.” She called in to Tim
and informed him she was headed out to the old Ellery place. Then,
she focused on the road and anything but the masculine scent
filling her nose.

The tension grew with each passing mile until it
stifled her. If it affected Chase, she had no way of knowing, for
he didn’t show it. Hell, the man didn’t show anything at all. He
sat on his side of the vehicle, bag between his legs on the
floorboard, and didn’t move. He could have been marble for all the
moving he did.

She slowed and rolled over the tracks, taking her to
the portion of Cottonwood Falls she’d never visited until she’d
donned the uniform.

Chase continued his Oscar-award winning portrayal of
a Greek statue. She pulled up before the singlewide trailer. He
hopped out and slammed the door behind him. She lowered the
window.

“Mr. Ellery,” she called out. He stiffened but
stopped. “Vance’s Auto Repair, which used to be Devon’s Towing, is
still in business. I’d recommend you call him to take a look at
your truck. Welcome home.”

She drove away, uneasy by the rioting emotions
within her.

☼

Chase paused before the steps. He peered behind him
at the retreating patrol car. Vicki Boshay.
Never guessed she’d
put on a uniform. Thought she’d be wed to some uppity rich guy with
the expected one boy and one girl by now.

A light snapped on to his right seconds before a
screen door squeaked.

“That you snooping around, Chase Ellery, like you
ain’t got the sense God gave a gnat?”

Since he’d begun heading to Cottonwood Falls, this
was his first smile. “Yes, Mrs. Candace.”

“Come over here so I can see you proper.”

He listened without a second thought, leaving the
shadows that served him so well. Candace Mallery didn’t look a day
older than when she’d driven him to the bus station the next town
over so he could escape this one. All those years ago. Her nut
brown skin, smooth and wrinkle free. She had a crocheted shawl
around her shoulders.

He held her gaze for all of ten seconds before she
opened her arms. His bag fell forgotten to the porch as he was
engulfed by the woman who’d treated him like a son. The scent of
warm gingerbread filled his nose, taking him back to many meals
eating around her table with her daughter.

“I’ve missed you.” Her statement held no reprimand,
just straightforward honesty.

“I’ve missed you, too. Sarah told me about Jason.
I’m sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “He chose his life.” She
stepped back. “You look exhausted.”

“Long trip,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Uh huh.” She opened her screen door and waited.

“I’m fine sleeping over there.”

“That place ain’t fit for anyone right now. You’ll
sleep here, and after breakfast, we’ll get to cleaning.”

“It’s not—”

One black eyebrow rose. “You’re acting like this is
up for negotiation.” She snapped her fingers and pointed
inside.

Chase swiped his bag and entered. More memories
covered him in a deluge. While updates had been done, it was still
home. The only one he’d ever known. The place next door had merely
been his address.

She left him in the doorway to Jason’s old room with
a kiss. “Sleep as late as you want.” Then, she was gone.

His body clamored for the bed, and he obliged it.
Stripped to his boxers, he slid between the cool sheets and allowed
himself to relax.

The smells of bacon, biscuits, and eggs woke him.
Sunlight streamed in the window. He sat up and scratched his chest.
I didn’t dream.

After a quick shower, he pulled out his last clean
set of clothes and donned them. Barefoot, he padded along the
polished floor to the linoleum kitchen.

“Sit.”

He listened as he took in the large array of food.
Despite wanting to protest her serving him, he kept his mouth shut
except to say thank you. She joined him and curled her hands around
the mug of coffee before her.