Based in Australia, the Elliot Security Series is a new romantic suspense series from Evie Mitchell.
Jetta
As the daughter of dead rock legends and sister to a pop-princess, I was used to avoiding my share of crazies.
But I sure as hell never expected a drug lord to kidnap me and demand a figure I had no way of paying.
I need help. Lots of help.
And the only man I can think of is the one who broke my heart - Paxton Elliot.
Paxton
I left Afghanistan broken in both body and spirit. Years in the army had taken its toll, and my return to civilian life had left me struggling to readjust as I battled with bad memories and regret.
And one of my biggest regrets just walked through my office door.
Ten years was a long time to keep radio silence from the girl I love, no matter the reason. Yet the moment Jetta walks back into my life I know I'll do whatever it takes to keep her there.
Trigger warning: This is a darker book than my other series and contains some violence and references to abuse. A happily ever after is still guaranteed, but this is a gritty series so proceeded with caution.
Note: This book was previously published under a former pen name. It has been rewritten and updated before release.
Chapter One
Jetta
“It’s Courtney Oliver!”
As the line in the coffee shop shuffled forward, I kept an ear on the frantic conversation behind me, my shoulders tensing as I waited for the inevitable to occur.
“Where?” A voice urgently hissed back to the first. I could imagine it, two woman, both growing in excitement, phones no doubt beginning to be pointed in my direction.
I'm too tired for this shit today.
I caught the eye of Joe, the barista. Nice guy, tattooed, tall, always with a smile and a laugh, he owned Tall, Dark and Handsome my favourite coffee shop. He glanced down the line catching my grimace, obviously having heard the girls behind me.
Help me.
“There! In the black shirt!” The voices behind me grew louder as their excitement increased.
The line shuffled closer to the front, the few people in the coffee store beginning to glance my way.
Desperation made me antsy as the guy ahead of me tossed up between a latte and a flat white.
Uh, newsflash, mate. It’s all coffee!
“No. Freaking. Way. How can you tell?”
“Duh. She’s got that wrist tattoo! Though she’s definitely put-on weight.”
Ah crap.
I resisted the urge to cover my art. The wrist tattoo had been a spur of the moment impulse my sister and I had made during a week in Vegas last year. A small, yet incredible phoenix about to take flight. In the fire trail that followed it were music notes, which made up a world famous song.
It was a distinctive tattoo in a visible spot.
Stupid.
“Go over! I want a selfie!”
Mr. Flat White had finally decided, allowing me to step up to the front of the line. Joe glanced at the girls, before looking straight back at me, his eye twitching slightly.
“Hi, Delores. How was the nursing home last night?”
I smiled gratefully. Joe knew some of my background and was willing to cover when something like this happened.
And something like this nearly always happened.
“Hi Joe. Shift was great, thanks. Just the usual.”
He nodded, taking my keep-cup, and handing it off to his girlfriend who worked the machine. The girls behind me watched in disappointed silence as I loitered by the magazine rack, waiting for my mocha.
“Thanks, Winnie.” I grinned at the short brunette behind the coffee machine, pressing the cover to the lip of y cup.
“No trouble, Delores. See you tomorrow.” She winked, a co-conspirator in this charade.
Outside I slipped on my sunglasses, squinting against the mid-summer glare. I fell in with the crowd on the street, sipping my coffee and enjoying the mild morning as I wandered my way back to my apartment. Summer in Canberra had to be one of my favourite seasons. Cool mornings and warm days, perfect for sitting on my terrace with a guitar and a notebook composing the day away.
A poster advertising a magazine caught my eye, pausing my wander. The latest tabloid had a picture of my sister arm-in-arm with her latest conquest. The caption read Courtney Oliver – Her Secret Shame!
God, do you just like to punish me or have I done something wrong in a past life? Cause I really don't have time for this nonsense.
I sighed, pulling out my phone to call my sister. She answered after one ring.