Fallen Angel, Part III Read online

  Fallen Angel III

  By: Tracie Podger

  Copyright

  Fallen Angel III

  Copyright 2014 © Tracie Podger

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents, either, are products of the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously. Any reference to actual locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, to include, but not exclusive to audio or visual recordings of any description without permission from the copyright owner.

  About the Author

  Tracie Podger currently lives in Kent, UK with her husband and a rather obnoxious cat called George. She’s a Padi Scuba Diving Instructor with a passion for writing. Tracie has been fortunate to have dived some of the wonderful oceans of the world where she can indulge in another hobby, underwater photography. She likes getting up close and personal with sharks.

  Tracie wishes to thank you for giving your time to read her books and hopes you enjoy them as much as she loves writing them. If you would like to know more, please feel free to contact her, she would love to hear from you.

  Publicist, Paula Radell, can be contacted via email at [email protected]

  Twitter: @Tracie Podger

  Facebook: Tracie Podger, Author

  www.TraciePodger.com

  Available in ebook and paperback.

  Fallen Angel, Part 1

  Fallen Angel, Part 2

  Evelyn - A novella to accompany the Fallen Angel Series

  Robert - A prequel to Fallen Angel, Part 1

  Fallen Angel, Part 3

  Coming soon.

  Travis - to accompany the Fallen Angel Series

  Fallen Angel, Part 4

  A Virtual Affair

  The Passion Series

  Acknowledgements

  I could never have written the Fallen Angel series without the support of my family. My husband has been my rock, without him, I wouldn’t be here.

  My heartfelt thanks to the best readers and proofreaders a girl could want, Janet Hughes, Paula Radell, Lucii Grubb, Karen Shenton and Romy Lazari - your input is invaluable.

  Thank you to Margreet Asslebergs of Rebel Edit & Design for the wonderful cover.

  And last but certainly not least, a big hug to my publicist and friend, Paula Radell. She is one of the kindest people I’ve come across on this journey called self publishing. Paula is responsible for getting my books out there and I am overwhelmed by her support and belief in The Fallen Angel Series. Paula Radell - Passionate Promotions

  So how did this all start? It’s been a long journey but my love of writing came about after I was encouraged to do so as part of my recovery from depression. I have always loved to read and lose myself in books, words soothe me.

  One day, after a series of dreams, I sat with my laptop and the words flowed from my fingertips - pages and pages of them. I forgot my troubles and lost myself in the characters I have created. I hope you can too.

  No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world - Robin Williams

  Chapter One

  The children had been subdued still coming to terms with the loss of Kerry. The one I was most concerned about was Gerry. For a couple of months now he had just sat, lost and quiet. The cheeky smile, the sparkle to his big blue eyes had all gone. He was going to be nine soon and he had lost his best friend. The girl who cuddled him, the girl who reminded him of his mother. All he did each day was stare at a photograph of Kerry, one of the many he had taken of her on a recent trip to New York.

  “He had a session with the therapist today,” whispered Ted from behind me.

  I turned and faced him.

  “How did he seem after?” I asked.

  “Same as always, Brooke, quiet. It’s going to take that little one some time to come to terms with losing Kerry.”

  Ted loved those kids, he cared for them all as if they were his own. We were all struggling with the death of Kerry. I had taken her to New York and I should have been more responsible, the guilt was crushing. I saw her in my dreams, her long wavy hair and the smile she gave me when we danced together at my wedding. Then I saw the blood on my hands and I struggled to forgive myself for putting her in danger. Not that I could have known at the time but still, she was in my care and I’d failed her.

  It was common knowledge that Robert and Travis owned the children’s home. The press had been alerted after a police report into Kerry’s death had been leaked. We were still trying to find out how and by whom. For the first time security was placed around the home. The press were desperate to invade, to violate those children’s privacy, their lives and find out the circumstances that had brought them to the home. I began to hate the intrusion. They were innocent children that had been given a chance and now they had to hide away. I could only hope the interest in them would soon die down. Such was the intrusion, the kids had been taken out of school for a while and home tutored. This pained Robert greatly. He had wanted for those kids to have as normal a life as possible. They had been taken off the streets and he wanted them to have an education, to make friends - not for them to be isolated.

  Gerry caught me looking at him, I could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he sat by the window. He spent each day in that chair, watching and waiting. I saw his lips quiver as I walked over. He shuffled to the edge of the chair, beckoning me to sit with him. I scooped in him into my lap and he rested his head on my chest.

  “Tell me about my mom?” he asked quietly.

  I knew what his mother had looked like, but nothing about any other family or his background. He had been taken into care after his mother had died. There would be a file somewhere but Gerry was so young, he couldn’t remember the details. The first time Gerry had asked me about his mum, I had spoken with the therapist about what to do. Even though Robert owned the home, I was not privy to the private information held on the children, nor would I want to be. All I knew was what she had looked like. The therapist thought it wise to at least tell me that. In later life Gerry may decide to investigate and we didn’t want him to be disappointed or grow up with false memories.

  “She was lovely, Gerry. She looked just like you. She had long blonde hair, big blue eyes and she loved you so much. She was always laughing and she played with you, hugged you all the time.” I was making it up as I went along.

  “Did she tickle me? I think she did,” he replied.

  “Oh yes and you loved it.”

  “Did she tuck me up in bed?”

  “Of course, and read stories to you. Can you remember any stories?” I asked.

  “A bear. I remember a bear, he threw sticks in a river.”

  “That sounds like fun, maybe we can do that one day. See whose stick is the fastest.”

  “Did Kerry have a nice mom?”

  The question threw me. It was the first time Gerry had enquired after Kerry’s parents and I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I’m not sure, darling. Can you tell me why you want to know?”

  “If she had a nice mom, she’d be looking after her now,” he said.

  Kerry didn’t have a nice mum and she was still very much alive, still a drug addict and becoming a pain in the backside. After Kerry’s death, her mother had come forward and announced to the press that she had been taken from her against her wishes. The social workers wouldn’t comment, other than to say that it was in the best interests of the child that she had been placed in to the care of Stone House, but the rumour mill churned. The gossip started and Robert grew anxious for the childr
en. Kerry’s mother, Irene, had turned up at the home one evening. She couldn’t get in but could be heard shouting and screaming from the gates. The police had been called and she spent the night in the cells sleeping off her hangover, but we knew she’d be back.

  “I’m sure there are lovely people looking after her, Gerry. She’s probably looking down at you now and wondering why you are so sad.”

  “I miss her,” was all he replied.

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  We sat for a while not speaking and I stroked his hair. That always seemed to comfort him and as his breathing deepened, I let him nod off in my arms.

  ***

  Hey, baby, how are you?” Robert called out as I opened the front door, finally home.

  “Okay. Gerry asked about his mum again, and Kerry,” I said as I followed his voice to the bedroom.

  “What did you say?”

  “Only what I’d said before. I described her and told him she was lovely. He also wanted to know if Kerry’s mum was dead, if she was looking after her,” I replied.

  Robert had returned from a Saturday morning meeting, otherwise he would have come to the home with me. As he changed from his suit, I’d sat on the bed and watched him. I caught the glint of his wedding ring as he buttoned up his shirt, he never took it off. Reaching forward, I caught his hand and brought his fingers to my lips. I kissed the wedding band and sighed. He sat beside me, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, you know that, right? I was the one who agreed Kerry could go to New York,” he said.

  “I know, but...”

  He cut me off. “No, Brooke, you’re not going to do that, okay? You are not going to take the blame for this. There’s only one person responsible and he’s paid for that.”

  I shuddered at the memory and Robert pulled me closer, his head dipping down, his lips covering mine in a tender kiss. I breathed in deep, his scent making my senses spiral and my stomach clench. No matter how many times he kissed me, no matter how many times his hands or his tongue had wandered my body, just the slightest touch had me wanting him, always. I pulled his head closer, my hands ran through his black hair as his lips found that one place that would send sparks through me, just below my ear. He knew my body so well, he knew the exact spots that would have me gripping the edges of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

  With one arm he pulled me onto his lap, his dark eyes never leaving mine as he undid the buttons of my shirt. With slow movements he slid it from my shoulders, his hands caressed my skin and left a tingling in their wake. He reached round and unclipped my bra letting it fall to the floor while his lips found my nipple, already hard. My hands fisted in his hair as his tongue swirled, his teeth nipped and his mouth sucked. I moaned as those delicious feelings coursed through me. Without warning, Robert rolled me onto the bed and knelt between my legs, his lips placed small kisses on my stomach. As his mouth travelled towards my navel, he undid the buttons of my jeans, pulling them down just past my hips.

  He ran his nose over my clitoris, his fingers parting me as his tongue delved into that one place he knew would make me come. It didn’t take long. A fluttering in my stomach and the heat that followed had me gripping his head, raising my hips to feel him deeper in me. His tongue could produce the most amazing sensations, the feeling of floating, of static running over my skin, and little sparks of light flashed behind my eyelids. I called out his name. His hands gripped at my jeans, my panties, pulling them further down as he unzipped his own. I pulled his head to mine as he pushed into me, giving me what I wanted. I tasted myself on his lips, his tongue as he fucked me just as I liked it, hard and fast.

  As I raked my nails down his muscular back feeling the scar across his angel’s wing, he came. It was short and sweet but exactly what I needed after the day I’d had. A release from the upset, something wonderful to wash away the sadness I’d felt after visiting the home.

  “Thank you,” I whispered into his neck.

  I felt him smile before he looked at me, raising himself on his elbows.

  “That was just for you,” he said.

  There had been times in the past when Robert had been stressed and I had given my body to him as a release. He had done the same for me. He wanted nothing from me, happy just to please and put a smile on my face. Some women get presents from their husbands, a pair of new shoes perhaps. I got the delicious Robert Stone and I would walk barefoot if I had to choose.

  I left him making his way upstairs while I took a quick shower. We usually dined out each Saturday but not that time. The press were still angling for a story on what had happened to Robert in New York and his connection to the Gioletti family. Not that he was keeping a low profile but he wanted to shield me from prying questions. Within the short time I had been in America, I had been caught up in his past twice and I was hoping for a little uneventful time to regroup.

  I rolled my eyes as I climbed the stairs to the lounge, hearing the pots and pans bashing against the counter tops. Robert was going to cook. That would usually mean a few curses, a huge amount of mess and perhaps only a small fire if we were lucky. Many a tea towel had been thrown away after being left too close to the hob. It was then that I was reminded of Robert’s immaturity. It would make me chuckle to watch him get stressed, stomp his feet if the cooking wasn’t going as planned. The one thing he couldn’t cope with was being out of control and cooking most certainly took him out of his comfort zone. I poured us both a wine and sat at the breakfast bar.

  “Want any help?” I enquired.

  “No.”

  “Sure? I could do the pasta if you like.”

  “No.”

  I smiled and sipped my wine. Put Robert in a boardroom with a pack of braying wolves wanting his blood and he would subdue, control and own them until he got exactly what he wanted. Put him in a kitchen and within minutes he was a wreck. However, he managed to produce a pasta dish with a sauce made from scratch and we settled down to eat.

  As much as I loved being around people, I loved more to be alone with Robert just talking, drinking our wine and discussing our day. He gave me his full attention, he listened, looked at me when I spoke and he was always interested in what I had to say.

  “Where’s Travis today?” I asked.

  “He’s spending the night at Caroline’s.”

  “I wonder if they’ll end up living together.”

  “I thought about that today, I don’t know if he could. He isn’t one to rush into anything.”

  “Would she move here?”

  “No, I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that. Anyway, he wants to introduce us to Harley, seems they’re getting on brilliantly,” he said.

  Travis had been dating Caroline since before Christmas and although it was still early days, she had introduced him to her son, Harley. Travis was great with the kids at the home but we worried. If he got too close to Harley, what would happen when Caroline found out about his past. There was the risk that she would end their relationship to protect her son.

  Robert and Travis had spent years moving away from their past, from their days of crime only to be dragged back into it recently. On Travis’s instruction and unbeknown to Caroline, she had someone watching out for her at all times. She had questioned what had happened in New York and had been given the same story as the press. I had been attacked and Robert, caught in the crossfire, had suffered an injury. The whole thing had been played down. Only a select few people knew the truth.

  Robert had taken calls from the heads of other families, the ones who knew Luca. Word had spread that there was to be no retaliation, Robert wasn’t someone many would take on. Luca had got what he deserved. He had gone against his own family and put the activities of the others at risk. His businesses were being divided up and sold off. Lucia, his wife, moved back to Italy to be close to her family as a very wealthy woman. Gianfranco and Sofia stayed in New York, she was too old to make that move and they sett
led into retirement. I often wrote to her. Evelyn helped me with the translation as Sofia spoke no English and it was lovely to receive her replies. It was a shame in one way that text and emails had taken over so much. To receive a letter and settle down on the sofa to read with Evelyn was a treat. She would write out the instructions for cooking a certain dish and her next letter would enquire how I was getting on.

  I had started to learn Italian so I could converse with Sofia, should we ever return to New York. Not that I would jump on a plane for a while, the memory of what happened there was still too raw. It was also fun every now and again, to surprise Robert with my language skills. There was something very sexy when he whispered what he wanted to do to me in Italian.

  “You’re still not sure about Caroline are you?” I asked.

  “There’s something niggling me and the last time I ignored a niggle, look what happened,” he replied.

  Robert was referring to his thoughts on Mark, my previous driver. He hadn’t acted on his instinct, and that was something Robert was finding hard to forgive himself for.

  “Travis checked her out, there’s nothing in her background to worry about, is there?” I asked.

  “No, but let’s keep her at arm’s length for a while. I’m not sure about this meeting Harley thing. I think it’s too soon.”

  “If it happens, Gerry could really do with a new friend at the moment. He’s really isolated himself.”

  “I’m worried about him too, Brooke, but give him time, he’s just a kid.”

  Robert spoke about Gerry with a fondness that he didn’t show other children. He liked all the kids at the home but he never got too close. I often wondered if he kept his distance emotionally so that it didn’t hurt so much when they moved on. But Gerry seemed to be different and I think it might have been because Robert connected with him on a level he couldn’t with the others. Both had lost their mum at the same age, they understood each other’s pain.

  “You’re really fond of him aren’t you?” I said.