Second Chances

Second Chances

A Reynolds Security Novel

By Melissa Hale

Second Chances

Melissa Hale

Copyright 2018 Melissa Hale

Smashwords Edition

Second Chances © 2018 Melissa Hale

All Rights Reserved. This ebook is for your personal enjoyment and may not be resold

All characters, locations, and situations in this book are fictional and a product of the author’s imagination.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Next Reynolds Security Book

About the Author

Chapter 1

Adam Compton looked out over the Chicago skyline from the window in his high-rise office and glowered. He hated the view, he hated the office, and he hated the Armani suit with the tie that was slowly choking the life out of him.

He had a goal, a goal he set at fifteen while he watched the house he'd grown up in and all of his grandmother's worldly possessions auctioned off days after her death. He was going to make sure his children never had to worry about money. He was going to be a billionaire, and he was going to do it by the time he was thirty. Today with his latest acquisition, he officially hit that mark, surpassed it actually. Tomorrow he would be twenty-nine. Now what?

Those children that were never going to have to worry about money, they didn't exist and they weren't going to exist anytime soon. Sure he had plenty of people that wanted a piece of him but no one he wanted to take care of. There had only ever been one person who stirred those instincts in him and she was long gone. The pain of that episode still ate at his soul. It was not something he was ever going to repeat.

A soft tap on the door prevented him from going any farther down memory lane and he was grateful, not that he showed it.

Good morning. Chad's chipper voice was a welcome respite from the brooding voice in his head. He didn't respond or even turn.

Mr. McAllen called to confirm lunch for 12:30. The reports you wanted from finance are in your inbox, here is your coffee... The way Chad's voice trailed off left little doubt there was something he wasn't saying.

What else?

Belinda has called... four times. She doesn't sound happy.

The two weeks are up. Adam shrugged and turned back to his desk.

Well, maybe you shouldn't have slept with her last night.

Two weeks weren't up yet. His tone was noncommittal as always and Chad didn't even attempt to argue the case he'd already tried and failed several times.

What no lecture? Adam asked after Chad was quiet for a moment.

I don't particularly like Belinda. Adam had to laugh at that. Belinda had treated Chad like he was beneath her. A mere annoyance to be dealt with. Plus he suspected Belinda was a bit homophobic.

Too bad she wasn't a little nicer to you. She would've gotten more swag out of the deal. Adam was pleased to see Chad finally crack a half a smile. The gifts given to the women he spent time with all came from Chad. He had impeccable taste but Adam had noticed that the value seemed proportionate to how much Chad liked the woman. All except for the diamond tennis bracelet they all received at the end of the two week affair.

She knew going into it that it would only be two weeks. He was always very upfront with the women he dated. It would be a two week affair and not a day longer. No exceptions.

Don't you ever wonder why the women are always pissed at the end? Adam wasn't about to admit that he had actually wondered that so again he shrugged.

It's because you are so good at playing the game. You make them feel special. You make them think you care for them. Then you simply walk away. Adam gritted his teeth refusing to let Chad make him feel guilty.

That's the way the relationship game is played. Would you rather I drag it out for months even a year and then walk away? Would that be kinder? Or should I treat them badly for the two weeks? So that they are relieved to see the last of me?

You could stop playing this game. Look for a woman that can actually make you happy. Someone you can love.

That's never going to happen. His tone didn't reflect the bitterness he was feeling. How is Sean? It was a blatant subject change but he didn't care. A genuine smile lit up Chad's face at the mention of his partner.

He's good. He's been on a shoot all week. He gets home tonight. He began to regale him with Sean's latest exploits and Adam felt himself smile. Sean, a very successful male model, was also a shameless prankster. Every shoot he went on was a new opportunity for mischief. Chad was ridiculously proud of him and it never failed to lift his mood to see his friend so happy.

Adam and Chad had shared a foster home when Adam was sixteen and Chad fifteen. At the time Chad was a scrawny scared kid that was tortured relentlessly by his peers. He had spent his whole life in the system and it showed. He was one of the ones destined to slip through the cracks. To end up an OD or a suicide before he made it out of the system. Within twenty-four hours of meeting him, Adam knew he couldn't let that happen.

Adam always felt he had the advantage when it came to the system. He had been raised by someone who loved him, his grandmother. Despite the fact that they were so far below the poverty line, he was still a well-adjusted kid for the most part. Unfortunately, most foster kids his age were not, and the foster homes were merely the first holding cells in a long line of incarceration. On his first day, he determined it wasn't for him. The first night he realized it wasn't for Chad either. It took two weeks for him to come up with a plan. Another month until he managed to move the two of them into a fictional foster home, with a couple that didn't exist. The entire plan revolved around a stolen laptop and a password that a caseworker had left on a post-it stuck to her monitor. That was when he realized he had an aptitude for computers and computer programming. He was goal driven. He needed a problem to solve. He had accomplished everything he set out to do so what the hell was he going to do now?

Adam?

Hmm? He looked up and realized Chad was awaiting a response.

Are you alright? You sort of zoned out there for a second.

What do you want to do next Chad?

What do you mean?

You're about to be thirty...

I'm about to be twenty-eight.

What do you want to do with the next half of your life?

First of all I kinda like to think I'll live past sixty so a better question would be what am I going to do with the next two-thirds of my life. Adam had to smile at that. Second, I happen to like what I’m doing now. Why would I want to do anything different? Adam turned back to the window again.

Chad, do you ever miss shopping at Wal-Mart?

Hell no. Chad snorted.

I need a new challenge. Adam sighed.

What you need is a vacation. Go to your house in the islands. Bed an island beauty. Relax!

A vacation huh?

"A real vacation Adam." Before Adam could respond the phone in his pocket buzzed. Precious few had his personal cell number.

Compton, he said, without bothering to look at the caller ID on the display.

Adam it's Ethan, how are you doing?

Ethan, it's good to hear your voice. Adam was surprised to find he meant it. He had met Ethan when he needed to pick someone's brain for the security software he was developing and the two had become fast friends. They even ended up in a collaboration partnership on the software. How's the software? Did you get the latest update?

Yeah, I have an IT department for that now, thank God. Ethan laughed.

Does this mean Jace is no longer sailing his laptop like a Frisbee?

I didn't say that. Ethan laughed. No, the reason I called is... well sort of personal.

One sec. Adam looked up at Chad. Finish this later. He mouthed. Chad smiled and left and Adam settled into his chair before putting the phone to his ear.

Lay it on me man.

I was wondering if you could do a background for me?

Isn't the software working?

It is, I just need something... deeper.

Ahh trying to determine if she's a gold digger?

No nothing like that... I think she might be in danger and I’m looking for motives that might not have occurred to her.

Oh, a client?

No, like I said it's... personal.

Ah personal. Adam echoed, his smile evident in his voice.

I ran her through the software. I have done my own investigating. I just feel like I’m missing something.

No problem. Send me whatever info you have and I will see what I can turn up.

Chapter 2

Despite recent attempts to inject warmth by adding color and more comfortable chairs. Underneath hospitals are all the same. Long cold corridors and the smell of antiseptic in the air.

Zoe sat in one of the brightly colored chairs that was a lot less comfortable than it looked. Beside her, her mother continued a running commentary as she rapidly flipped through magazine pages. Zoe had stopped listening shortly after they had covered the standard, ‘When are you going to settle down?’ and ‘What are you waiting for?’ parts of the conversation. That was nearly two hours ago. They both knew she wasn't listening but neither acknowledged the fact.

Sophie Wilson looked exactly the same as she had for Zoe's entire life. She was still as vibrant as her flame red hair. She didn't look like a woman pushing sixty. Her alabaster skin had a few laugh lines but Zoe couldn't remember her ever not having them. The woman wore a perpetual smile. At the moment the smile was conspicuously absent. Instead, there were signs of strain around the older woman's mouth. Zoe tried to imagine the strain she would feel if her husband of nearly thirty years were having heart surgery. She couldn't, but that was mostly because she couldn't imagine having a husband of thirty years. Her relationships tended to be closer to thirty minutes. She was looking for a certain spark, chemistry. If it wasn't there in the first thirty minutes it wasn't going to be there. Yes, she was cynical, she also didn't care.

I like your hair long. Something in the tone change captured Zoe's attention.

Thanks, she mumbled.

I wish you would come home more often. She ran her fingers through a strand of her hair and Zoe resisted the urge to feel guilty and make excuses.

I know mom.

Sophie sighed and leaned back in her chair. When the silence stretched on for a few minutes Zoe started to get a little worried. Her mother was never quiet. When she had arrived two days ago after news of her father's heart attack her mother had been upset but talking. The calm quiet was much more unnerving than the tears.

He's going to be all right, mom, Zoe whispered. When her mother didn't immediately respond she felt the need to fill the silence. Bypass surgery is so common these days. The success rate is really high it's like... She stopped speaking when her mother put her hand over hers. She looked up to meet her eyes but Sophie's gaze was focused on the corridor. Zoe looked up and saw her father's surgeon still in his scrubs walking toward them. His slow pace and subdued demeanor caused Zoe's stomach to drop.

Mrs. Wilson?

Yes. Sophie quickly got to her feet. Though at five foot even in her shoes. Standing didn't make her much taller. Zoe, on the other hand, was nearly five ten so standing made her feel more secure. She put her hand on her mother's back partially to brace herself and partially to reassure herself.

Mrs. Wilson, your husband suffered another heart attack on the table and we were unable to revive him. I'm sorry. The doctor spoke quickly and without preamble. Zoe heard her mother's gasp just before her head filled with nothing but a loud rushing white noise. Her knees threatened to buckle and she locked them. Her hand on Sophie's back allowed her to feel the woman's deep breaths when she couldn't hear them. Sophie was nodding at whatever the doctor was saying. Zoe's vision began to dim and she realized she wasn't breathing. The doctor turned to walk away just as Zoe sucked in a deep shuddering breath and she felt her mother's back stiffen.

Mom, are you okay? It was well after midnight and though they had been home from the hospital for hours Sophie still hadn't said much and she hadn't cried.

You couldn't sleep either? Sit down I'll make us some warm milk. Zoe hadn't had warm milk since she was a child but she didn't decline. Once they were both seated Zoe expected Sophie to pick up with a string of chatter but she remained silent.

Did daddy have a will? Zoe finally asked in a small voice. Sophie smiled faintly then it slipped away.

Of course, you know your father. He took care of every detail. Sophie took a sip of her milk and sighed. You are so much like him. She said softly. He was so proud when you got your degree. Everywhere we went he would tell people. 'My daughter has an MBA, graduated with honors you know.' Waitresses, clerks, even gas station attendants. I doubt half the people even knew what an achievement it was. Zoe's chest felt tight and she swallowed back the tears that threatened. If she started crying now she wouldn't stop.

Do you want me to go through it and make the arrangements?

Sophie put her hand over the top of Zoe's. I would really appreciate that. Sophie began to talk about the church where the service would be held and Zoe let herself be drawn into the details in order to avoid the present.

The loud chime of the doorbell woke Zoe and she grimaced. Sleep had been elusive even after the warm milk and she was in no mood to greet visitors. She reminded herself that she was in her mother's house and the visitors wouldn't be for her anyway and felt a bit better.

After a shower, she slipped into the kitchen looking for coffee. There were covered dishes on the table and lining the counter.