Defying Gravity: Shattered Cove Series Book 3 Read online

  Defying gravity

  Book 3 of The Shattered Cove Series

  A. M. Kusi

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, organizations, events, and incidents are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Any trademarks, product names, service marks, and named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are only used for references

  Copyright © 2020 by A. M. Kusi.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book or any of its contents may be reproduced, copied, modified, distributed, stored, transmitted in any form or by any means, or adapted without the prior written consent of the authors and publisher.

  Published by A. M. Kusi 2020

  [email protected]

  Visit our website at www.amkusi.com

  Editor: Anna Bishop of CREATING ink

  Sensitivity Edit: Renita McKinney of A Book A Day

  Proofreader: Judy’s Proofreading

  Cover Design: Regina Wamba of ReginaWamba.com

  Formatting: Archangel Ink

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  Other Books by A. M. Kusi

  A Fallen Star

  (Book 1 in The Shattered Cove Series)

  Glass Secrets

  (Book 2 in The Shattered Cove Series)

  The Lighthouse Inn

  (Book 4 in The Shattered Cove Series)

  His True North

  (Book 5 in The Shattered Cove Series)

  The Orchard Inn

  (Book 1 in The Orchard Inn Romance Series)

  Conflict of Interest

  (Book 2 in The Orchard Inn Romance Series)

  Her Perfect Storm

  (Book 3 in The Orchard Inn Romance Series)

  For a complete list of all our books, visit:

  www.amkusi.com/books

  If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.

  – Desmond Tutu

  It just takes one conscious individual to recognize their wounds, recognize ancestral patterns, see dysfunction and trauma and think ‘maybe I can stop it here.’.

  – Unknown

  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

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek of The Lighthouse Inn

  Thank You

  Acknowledgements

  About A. M. Kusi

  Also by A. M. Kusi

  This book is dedicated to all those out there who’ve been through trauma and decided to not let it define you. To those who do the hard work to break the patterns.

  A note to readers: This book has sensitive subject matter that deals with abuse, mentions rape, but does not go into detail. This story takes on the subject of racism and police brutality. It was a very emotionally challenging story to write, but we feel the story needs to be told to help shine light onto the injustices, and micro-aggressions, that happen every day in America. We hope you fall in love with Bently and Belle just as much as we did. Their love story is real and raw and it just had to be told. Enjoy!

  Chapter 1

  Bently

  Bently winced at the bitter aftertaste coating his mouth. He lifted his cup of coffee and swallowed again. Nope. Still terrible. “Should have stopped by Remy’s,” he said aloud to the empty truck cab as he set the brown sludge passing for java in the cupholder.

  The radio crackled. “Squad one, what’s your twenty and status?”

  Bently picked up the radio as he turned into a side street and pressed the speaker to his mouth. “This is squad one. I’m on Everton Street. Status ten-eight.”

  “Unit one, take the suspicious person walking with a bike on Shell Ave.”

  He pressed the button once more. “Ten-four.”

  Bently put his blinker on and went left at the stop sign, scanning the sides of the road. After making a series of turns, he ended up on Shell Avenue. Slowing, his gaze focused on a kid pushing a bike on the side of the road. His blue school backpack was nearly bursting at the seams. Bently scanned the upscale neighborhood for any signs of a threat.

  “He’s just a kid walking home from school.” He shook his head and notified dispatch that he was on the scene before pulling up beside the kid.

  He hopped out. Squinting at the sun, he grabbed his aviators from his pocket and slipped them on as he greeted the kid. “Good afternoon.”

  The teen kept walking with his head down, swaying slightly. The flapping of deflated rubber slapping against the cement sidewalk brought Bently’s attention to the tires of his bike.

  Bently stepped next to the boy. White earbuds stuck out of his ears, contrasting with his light brown skin. He moved into the young man’s periphery to get his attention. “He—”

  Wide frightened brown eyes stared up at him as the boy’s trembling hands flew towards the sky. The bike crashed to the ground. Bently swiveled around searching for the danger that had the guy so riled up, but they were alone on the street.

  “Sir, I don’t want any trouble. I’m just walking home from school.” The young boy’s voice was steady. His eye was swollen and bruised.

  Bently furrowed his brow. He’s scared of me? Smiling in hopes to set the boy at ease, Bently motioned to his headphones. “Can you take those out for a minute?”

  Slowly, the boy plucked the headphones from his ears, the steady thump of hip-hop pouring from the tiny speakers.

  “Nice tunes.” Smooth, Bently.

  The young man remained silent. His eyes were glued on Bently. His shoulders nearly touched his ears with tension.

  “I’m Sheriff Evans. What’s your name?”

  “TJ . . . uh, Thomas Jones, sir.”

  Bently nodded, looking over his bike. “What h
appened to your ride?”

  TJ looked down for a moment before he shrugged. “Flat tire.”

  “May I?” Bently asked, reaching towards one of the wheels.

  “Okay?” TJ’s answer was more like a question.

  “I know a thing or two about bikes. This is a nice one.”

  “I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re thinking,” TJ said, his jaw tense.

  “I never assumed you did. You can put your hands down, you know.” Bently ran his palm around the outer tire, finding the source of the leakage—a long slice between the folds of black rubber.

  “The person who slashed these tires the same one who gave you that black eye?” Bently asked, standing to his full height.

  TJ shifted nervously. “Why do you care?”

  Bently sighed. “Because this is my town and I care about the people in it. If someone is being harassed or assaulted, I want to know.”

  TJ nodded hesitantly.

  “Do you want to file a report?”

  TJ’s eyes grew wide again as he shook his head vehemently. “Nah, it was just a misunderstanding.”

  “If you’re sure.” Bently knew better than anyone else that you couldn’t help someone until they were ready to be helped.

  A flash of movement caught his eye. One of the residents stared out the window of her two-story home at him, her hand clutching the fabric of her shirt.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Maple Street.”

  “That’s still two miles away. Why don’t you hop in and I’ll give you a ride? I’ll throw your bike in the back.” Bently picked up the metal frame.

  “You don’t have to,” TJ said.

  “Wouldn’t want you to have any more misunderstandings on the way back. Besides, I’m headed that way anyway. I have a friend who lives in that neighborhood.” And the last thing I need is another phone call to dispatch about a kid walking home from school. Since when did that become a crime? “Would you like the ride?”

  “Uh . . . okay.” TJ opened the passenger side and climbed in.

  Bently hefted the bike into his truck bed before climbing in the driver’s side. Geez. Had anyone ever sat farther away from him and still managed to be in the same car? The kid was practically crawling out the window.

  He wasn’t blind. The kid was terrified of him, and unfortunately, Bently guessed the badge across his chest had something to do with it. There were so many news stories, seemingly a story every day about clashes of police and people of color. How could Bently assure him that wouldn’t happen here in Shattered Cove? He was not a racist, and no one in his department was either—at least he didn’t think so. Maybe he should slip in the fact that his sister-in-law was Black? No, that’d be awkward.

  “You play any sports?” Bently drove towards their destination.

  “Basketball.”

  “Oh, my kind of guy . . . You lived here long?” Bently tried to keep the strain out of his voice.

  “Just a few months. My sister got a job at the hospital.”

  “What about your parents?” Bently turned down the end of the street.

  “It’s just us. There, the blue one on the right is ours.” TJ pointed out the window to a small duplex. The burlap wreath over the door said “welcome.”

  Bently pulled in along the side of the street and put the truck in park. TJ hopped out, quickly shutting the door, and Bently followed suit. He walked around to the back to grab the bike just as a door slammed behind him.

  “Oh, shit,” TJ said.

  “What the hell happened to your face, TJ?” a strong feminine voice growled.

  Bently turned. The breath ripped from his lungs. The woman before him was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on—and he’d laid eyes on a lot. Big ringlets of curls danced around her brown glowing skin in the breeze. Her dark eyes flashed at TJ with worry before she targeted him with those stormy spheres. Fear tinged the edges of her furious glare. Her bright red lips moved as his ears rang, blood rushing to his groin.

  “Did he do this to you?” She grabbed TJ’s face, checking him over like a mother hen. TJ turned away from the unnamed beauty.

  “Nah, just some kids at school messing around,” TJ said. “Sheriff Evans gave me a ride.”

  “You got in the car with a cop?” she snapped.

  Bently closed his mouth, embarrassed that he’d been standing there gawking. Wiping invisible drool from his mouth, he cleared his throat and extended his arm, offering the smile that he’d been told melted most women’s panties. “Hi. I’m Bently.”

  She stared at his open hand like he’d just stuck it in a public toilet. “Is my brother in any trouble?”

  He frowned and straightened from the rejection. “No. Of course not.”

  “Good, then we’re done here.” She grabbed TJ’s arm and pulled him into the house while Bently stared, utterly confused. What the hell just happened?

  “Belle! My bike—” TJ protested.

  “Get inside!” His sister shot him a look and TJ shut his mouth and complied.

  It needs the tires fixed anyways. I can do that.

  The woman shoved her brother in the house and whirled around. Her powerful gaze met his before she slammed the door shut.

  Damn, she was something.

  ***

  A few hours later, Bently pulled the bike from his truck bed, admiring his handiwork. This fresh set of tires and the tune-up he’d performed would be the perfect icebreaker. It wasn’t unusual for him to go above and beyond the call of duty for his fellow townsfolk. But none of them had a sister who was hotter than sin and feisty as fuck either. Does this count as breaking my no-hooking-up-with-locals rule?

  Nah. This was just good old-fashioned flirting and helping a fellow community member out. It wasn’t like he would follow through.

  Bently knocked on the door, noting the older model Ford Focus in the driveway that had seen better days. Red flowers bloomed at the base of the porch, a discarded pile of pulled weeds off to the side. Several potted plants were spaced around the small area and a few baskets hung from the rafter hooks. He swiped the sweat from his brow and drew in a deep breath. Nerves scattered through him as he shifted his feet. Since when was he this off-kilter over a woman?

  The energy shifted as the knob twisted. His heart beat faster as he swallowed.

  The door opened and Belle’s smile quickly morphed into a frown.

  “What do you want?” Belle said, her chin rising.

  “Good evening.” He smiled and waited a beat. Her scowl only deepened. Have I lost the touch? Did cancer steal this from me too? He cleared his throat. “Uh, I just wanted to return TJ’s bike.”

  She looked at the metal object as he set it on the porch. “Okay.”

  “Is he home?”

  “He’s doing homework,” she answered with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  “I’ll only be a second. If you don’t mind, can I come in and ask him about who gave him that shiner one more time?” Maybe she’ll see I’m just trying to help.

  “Do you have a warrant?”

  “E-excuse me?” he asked, baffled. He was used to not being everyone’s favorite person as an officer of the law, but this was something more.

  “Unless you have a warrant, you cannot come into my house or search my property. I know how you people work.”

  What the fuck?

  “You leave my brother alone. He’s smart and he’s going places. He’s a good boy. We don’t want any trouble, officer.” Belle’s voice was steady, but her trembling hand gave it away. He glanced at her dainty fingers shaking at her side.

  Belle balled them into fists before he considered her face, the fear in her eyes. She’s scared of me.

  “I never intended to cause trouble. Just wanted to make sure he got home safe. Have a good evening,
ma’am.” He turned and walked back to his truck, utterly speechless.

  Defeated, he started the engine and shifted into gear. He needed a good strong drink. A woman’s company wouldn’t hurt either. Visions of sucking on those red lips and fisting those dark curls made his cock jerk. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

  Too bad it would only be a fantasy and his hand tonight.

  Chapter 2

  Belle

  Belle pushed the door open to the locker room and strode past the row of metal closets, then sat on the lone bench in the center of the room. She rubbed her hands over her tired face. It had been another long shift that made her body ache. But this was what she’d worked so long and so hard for since she was eighteen. An education and a job to take care of her and her little brother, so they never had to end up on the streets again.

  “Long shift?” Katy asked, hanging her lanyard in her locker before shutting the metal door with a screech.

  “Very,” Belle answered the woman who’d seemed friendly the few times they’d worked together.

  “You should come out with the girls from first shift and me. You’ve earned a drink after this hellish week. I know I did.” Katy pulled her hair down from the tight ponytail.

  When was the last time Belle had let loose? Had a drink with girlfriends? She’d been stuck in survival mode for so long. Maybe it was time she took a moment to let out the breath she’d been holding since childhood. TJ was old enough to look after himself, and wasn’t he always bugging her to go out or find a hobby?

  “Text me the details. I think I can make that happen.” Belle stood and opened her locker, quickly switching out her lanyard for her keys.

  “Woo-hoo! ’Bout damn time we show you this town. Maybe even get you some.” Katy smiled and winked.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Belle cringed. She had no want of a man. She could fulfill her own needs—she always had. Life had taught her some valuable lessons the hard way. Men only wanted one thing from a woman, and the second they got it, they were gone. Instead of stuffing down the anger that boiled up inside her, she inhaled long and deep through her nose before exhaling out her mouth. In with light and love, out with the negative.