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  SUCKER FOR PAYNE

  By Carrie Thomas

  SUCKER FOR PAYNE

  By Carrie Thomas

  Copyright © Carrie Thomas 2017

  All rights reserved

  Edited by Victoria Schmitz of Crimson Tide Editorial

  Cover art provided by More Than Words Graphics Design

  Book interior by Melinda Harris

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  To those who change their path.

  READ MORE FROM CARRIE THOMAS

  Dream Girls: Piper

  Dream Girls: Stephanie

  Dream Girls: Nicole

  Travesty

  Hooked

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About Carrie Thomas

  Acknowledgments

  Sneak Peek of Piper (A Dream Girls novel)

  PROLOGUE

  Conner

  One more drink. It was always one more.

  Jared’s patio creaked under my weight, as I shuffled across the deck. My concentration focused in on how every other step skipped the bowed boards, leaving me a bit unsteady.

  Jared pointed to the half-empty bottle in my grip and asked, “You up for a round of golf tomorrow?”

  “Sure, I’ll take your money.” I shrugged as I took a swig of the whiskey.

  Jared grinned. “Five hundred?”

  A gorgeous blonde, who stood close enough to hear us, licked her lips, and her dark eyes widened as she edged closer to Jared’s back. The first stirrings of anger rose in my chest as her red nails tapped a rhythm against her bottle of Stella. I didn’t have to look up to know all party-goers were watching us. I could feel their curious gazes on me.

  I leaned in close enough, so only he would hear. “I hate it when you do shit for show.” Straightening, I took another pull and slammed the bottle on the table. “A thousand.” I turned my back to his audience and stumbled down the wooden stairs.

  I had rounded the corner of his house before he finally accepted. I knew he would. His ego wouldn’t allow him to be one-upped in front of his friends.

  The mid-November chill bit at my fingertips as the engine in my old pick up roared to life. It ran like a champ, but the heater had bitten the dust two years ago. My left leg bounced automatically, knowing the movement would help keep me warm for the short drive.

  After clearing a red light, I leaned over to open my glove compartment. Hank Williams Jr. would do, since I didn’t want to hear my own thoughts. And given that the radio had joined the heater only a couple of weeks ago, it wasn’t like I had much choice, if I didn’t want to sit in silence. The discs shifted to the right, almost out of reach. I kept my left hand on the stirring wheel and leaned further into the seat, so I could snag the CD with my free hand.

  I straightened up to the sound of screeching tires. The bright lights of the car I was about to hit head-on blinded me. My thigh cramped from the amount of force my foot applied to the brake pedal. I jerked the wheel toward the ditch, but wasn’t going fast enough. Loud honks from a small car echoed in the cab of my truck. The frightened eyes and shocked face of the other driver filled my vision as my body rose from the seat.

  I floated in that millisecond, before time started again, causing my body to jerk and twist freely about the cab. The other driver’s hands rose up, as if he could block the impact. Shards of glass exploded with a deafening roar, each razor-sharp piece digging into my skin as the truck began to flip. My head slammed into the side window as the truck rolled over, causing me to black out.

  ***

  Willow

  One more pill. It was always one more.

  I opened my eyes, barely able to focus. Between the partying we’d done the night before, and the darkness, I couldn’t even make out who was in bed with me. I rolled over, hoping to find Chase.

  Long black hair.

  Purple nails.

  Naked breasts splayed out for anyone to see.

  Nope. Not Chase.

  Easing myself up, I squinted at the hangover bulldozing its way into my brain, and looked around the room. Bodies lay haphazardly on the floor and a worn-out sofa; some were clothed, some not so much. But all were blitzed.

  I wasn’t familiar with the home, being that last night was the first night Chase had invited me to his frequent hang-out. Our fights had escalated over the past month, and I believed he intended on making nice with me by allowing me to party with his friends. He constantly told me how I couldn’t handle them, and it was best for him to keep his girlfriend and his friends separate. I disagreed.

  Heaviness plagued my legs, and bile rose from my stomach with each room I passed. I coughed as the mixture of smoke and sweat passed through my nostrils. Goosebumps trailed down my legs when my right foot slipped in something slimy on the hardwood floors. I caught myself on the wall and shivered.

  Feeling for the door frame ahead, I sighed when I finally reached carpet. I wiped my foot back and forth until the slime was gone. However, the relief was short lived, as I locked gazes with not only my boyfriend, but some girl named Maria; the one he’d told me was his cousin. I assumed that was a lie…given their present position and all.

  “Come join us, babe,” Chase slurred.

  “I thought she was your cousin.” I should have been yelling and screaming. I should have been throwing things at him, or cussing her out, but I didn’t. I spoke calmly, and direct.

  “Nah, we just tell people that. No one ever understands our relationship,” blondie said as she continued to ride my boyfriend.

  “Babe, don’t—uh.” He groaned and his hands squeezed her thighs as he pulled her back down over him.

  I glanced at the nightstand, where a small mirror laid on top. It was covered with white powder cut into lines. To the right of the powder, three prescription bottles were knocked over on their sides, with pills spilled out haphazardly.

  I narrowed my eyes at Chase, livid that he was in the middle of what appeared to be ecstasy, while my heart was being ripped out of my chest. He couldn’t even finish his sentence, or stop fucking a girl I’d believed to be his family, to try to explain why he was cheating on me.

  His face was contorted like a cartoon character; hers in a sinister smile. I hated them. I hated me.

  Hastily, I reached the night stand and grabbed the first handful of pills I could reach. I shoved them in my mouth as fast as I could. I swallowed hard, forcing the pills down my dry throat. Neither of them noticing, I left the room and returned to the bed I’d woken up in. Foldi
ng my knees up to my chest, I waited for the effects from whatever I’d taken to kick in. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to feel, but I was certain I wanted to stop the heaviness in my heart. My eyes fluttered twice as I pulled the ripped blanket up to separate me and the naked girl who laid beside me.

  I awoke to a nurse poking my arm, shaking her head as she tried to find my stubborn vein. I took in her expression, her frustration plain as day. Once she realized I was conscious, she didn’t even bother to ask how I was doing.

  “Hey.” My mom’s strained voice broke through the silence.

  Her red-rimmed eyes were glossy, and her voice was scratchy, almost as if she hadn’t spoken in a while. I licked my parched, cracked lips, not knowing what to say. I was perfectly aware that I’d almost taken my own life. I remembered it all too well, wishing like hell I could forget it.

  “Willow,” she cried. “Please let me help you.”

  I remained silent, not wanting to have the heart-to-heart I so desperately needed, especially in front of a stranger. The older nurse finished drawing my blood, then stuck a Band-Aid on my arm. Upon her exit, I turned back to my mom. My poor mother, who’d done nothing but love me and raise me on her own, sometimes working two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, and food in our tummies.

  Tears spilled from my eyes. Humiliation crippled me. Guilt ate away at my insides, knowing that no matter what I said, it’d never take away the pain I’d caused her. No amount of apologies would ever take back the recklessness I’d had with my own life, not thinking for one moment about hers. I wasn’t sure when I’d become that person. The selfish one who, for not one second, ever considered anyone else’s feelings.

  “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t help but avert my eyes.

  The hospital bed dipped as she sat down and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in so tight, it was hard to inhale. Instinct told me to pull away, so I could take a deep breath, but my heart wouldn’t allow it. My heart wanted my mom.

  “How long?” I hadn’t a clue how long I’d even been there.

  “Five hours.” She straightened her sweater, tugging at a loose button. While she struggled with her words, I kept thinking about how stupid I’d been. Had I not gotten to a hospital, I would have been dead.

  “I need help.” Those words were the heaviest I’d ever spoken, yet they almost made me feel weightless. I’d never let something so personal escape me before. I’d always carried my shame deep, knowing I’d take the decisions I’d made to the grave. Admitting my loss of control scared me, because once I said it out loud, it became real. The repercussions were tangible, and simply existing in the shadows of everyday life wouldn’t be an option anymore. I couldn’t take it back. I couldn’t tell her I’d only been joking.

  She hugged me again, and I knew, no matter what happened from that point forward, I didn’t want to die before she did. The grief and sorrow surrounding her like a black cloud of smoke crushed me. I never wanted to be the cause for such pain in her eyes, ever again.

  CHAPTER ONE

  (Ten Years Later…)

  Conner

  I silently counted my reps on the bench. Three. Two. One. I continued to push through the pain, not caring in the slightest that I was probably shredding my shoulder.

  Sitting up, I grabbed my towel from the floor and wiped my face. Just as I was about to turn up the volume on my iPod, Trevor Steele’s shadow hovered over me, patiently waiting for me to acknowledge him. I nodded in greeting.

  His chin lifted slightly. “What’s up?”

  “Same shit,” I blew out a breath, “different day.”

  His mouth turned downward, but not quite forming a frown. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his black sweats and nodded toward the vacant octagon in the center of the gym. “Why don’t you come to the cage tonight?”

  I grunted. “Not ready.”

  Steele nodded.

  I hated, yet fully accepted, the fact he understood. At first, I’d questioned his friendship. The first day I’d walked into the newly built gym, he’d struck up a conversation with me. It took a couple of weeks, but once I figured out he hadn’t wanted anything from me, and that I could trust him, I gave in some.

  The sky-high wall of armor I’d built up over the years still very much existed, but he’d chipped away at it a little each day, until one day, I actually laughed. He told me about a fight he’d had before he’d gone pro, where he’d wailed on his opponent until the poor guy’s mother made her way down to the edge of the cage and begged him to stop. I couldn’t imagine. The dude was a grown-ass man.

  Steele owned the gym—had saved for nearly five years for it. I respected him and his work ethic. Over time, I’d learned he came from humble beginnings. His father had skipped town, leaving him and his mom to rely on government housing, as she worked two jobs to put food on the table. The only reason he even became interested in martial arts was because a preacher offered free lessons at the local community center. His determination was valiant, and his chill vibes were inviting. It wasn’t hard to be around him, and that was appealing to me.

  Not that I’d been looking for a friend, but he thought like I did. Our lives had been so different, yet we were similar at our core. He never asked for anything more than I was willing to share, but was able to draw the correct conclusions when I stayed silent.

  “You have to get back out there, man.” He hit his fist on the bar I’d been using. “Blow off some steam, and make a few bucks in the meantime.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I leaned over with my elbows on my thighs to hide my face. “It’s not like I’m getting my hands on any of the money I had prior to the conviction. And I’m not getting any other offers with a felony on my record.”

  Steele grimaced. “Still no resolution?”

  “Nah.” After being released from prison, I’d contacted my old lawyer, hoping he’d be able to shed some light on my partnership with Jared—who hadn’t contacted me once while I was locked up. Turned out, Jared had dissolved our contract.

  Steele whistled through his teeth and shook his head.

  I shrugged. “Papers said any money we had would be split fifty-fifty, but there’s nothing to split after he spent all of it. I won’t fight it though. I want nothing more to do with courtrooms or lawyers. I’ve made peace with what my life has become.”

  “You don’t miss that life at all?”

  I shook my head, thinking about my years spent flipping homes. “Not really. I mean, I couldn’t get a loan now anyways. But coming back to so little, after all the hard work I put in, sucked.”

  What little I did have after my release went to a civil lawsuit. I’d only countered twice, before the boy’s mom involved in my accident accepted. I just wanted to be done with it all, naively thinking that settling would give me closure on the whole ordeal. I’d been wrong.

  Steele sat down on the bench across from me. “So, you’ll think about it?”

  I gulped down some water before answering. “Don’t know yet.”

  He smacked my shoulder. “Come on, man.”

  “Fact is, I do need an income. The little I had from selling the house is almost shot.”

  “See?” Steele brightened. “This is perfect.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to commit to something, other than going to the gym and home. I need to regroup and adapt to my surroundings.” I wiped away the sweat forming on my upper lip. “Get used to being free.”

  Free. Simple, yet profound. Symbolic, yet not true. I’d never be free. Not from the memory, and sure as fuck not from the guilt.

  “I get it,” Steele said.

  I huffed a laugh laced with pain and guilt. “I’ve been off parole for nearly a month, and still don’t know what to do with myself.” I hated how my voice softened with the rising emotions.

  Steele clasped his hands between his knees and leaned forward. “How long were you on parole?”

  “Two years,” I said. “I met with my PO every week, making sure my paperwork was up to da
te, then worked eight hours a day at the mission outreach.”

  In that time, even though I’d met other guys in the same situation I’d been in, I hadn’t connected with any of them. They all wanted to discuss their situations, almost like therapy sessions. I had no intention of ever talking about it again. It was shitty enough re-playing the accident in my mind every time I closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was relive it with a live audience.

  “That should count for something,” he said.

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “I come to this gym because I’ve got nothing else to do. I tried fixing things in the house I rent. I’ve even cleaned the yard up, and planted a few twigs I dug up from ditches. But nothing calms my nerves like a workout.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Steele said with a grin. “I’m the same way.”

  I placed my sweatshirt in my bag. “I’ve made too many mistakes, man.”

  “We all have. You’re human.”

  “No, not normal mistakes.”

  “You know we’re cool, yeah? You’re a good dude, Conner.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I was partying one night and hit a kid head on,” I said, deliberately trying to scare him away. “I killed him.” He knew I’d been locked up, but he hadn’t known the reason.

  He crossed his arms and tilted his head down. I never looked away, willing him to meet my stare. Deep down, I hoped it wouldn’t change his view of my character, but at the same time, I knew I didn’t deserve the free pass.

  He looked back at me, silent for a few moments. “That really sucks. I’m sorry you experienced that.”

  “It is what it is. I drove impaired nearly every day for years; even before I could legally drink.” I shook my head. “But I can’t fix what happened. I can’t fix anything.” I zipped my bag, completely over the confession. It didn’t matter anyhow.

  “No, you can’t fix everything, you’re right. But you can take what time you have left here and do something positive with it. People make mistakes, man. You made one.”