Outplayed Read online

  Outplayed

  Lila Rose

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Sneak Peek — Holding Out

  Also by Lila Rose

  Connect with Lila Rose

  Outplayed Copyright © 2019 by Lila Rose

  Cover Design: Letitia Hasser

  Cover Photograph: Wander Aguiar

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Interior Design: Rogena Mitchell-Jones

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the permission from the author as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Outplayed is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found in this book are either from the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons live or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  First Edition

  Disclaimer

  This novel could be read as a standalone since it’s set back when Violet and Travis first made contact (in Holding Out: Zara and Talon’s story), where years have passed since they dated at university.

  Prologue

  Travis

  When I walked into my office at my new home, I didn’t expect to see my five-year-old daughter sitting at my desk holding a photo frame. I’d thought she’d been in her room drawing, yet there she was studying the photo like it was a puzzle.

  “Princess, what are you doing?” I asked, making my way over to her.

  “Daddy, who’s this lady?” She held up the frame as I got to her side. My heart jumped.

  Violet.

  Gently, I picked Izzy up, sat in her spot on my desk chair, and placed her on my lap. “Her name is Violet.”

  “Why do you have her picture?”

  I tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her temple. “She was the one woman I loved with my whole heart. Unfortunately, work got in the way and I lost the chance of my happy ever after.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “She’s real pretty, Daddy.”

  “I know, princess.”

  After moving to Ballarat, I had hoped to see Violet. Ever since I moved out of the country to New York, I had regretted it.

  Leaving her after university was the worst decision of my life, yet I wouldn’t be the man I was now without those changes. I wouldn’t have what I did. We’d both chosen different paths back then; mine had been in construction in Sydney and she’d stayed in Victoria.

  Then an opportunity to work under a big-named company in New York won me over. That was where I met a friend and we went into business together. Violet and I had had a plan: get our careers sorted and then eventually find one another again. Only it didn’t work out that way. The woman I had been dating fell pregnant, and everything changed from then on.

  Shit, I was even dating someone now, but I couldn’t stand the woman any longer. I’d met Pam six months ago in Sydney when Izzy and I were living there for a year on business. Pam and I connected because she was in the state working, but she originally came from Melbourne. She interested me enough to want more than just casual sex. Only time told me I’d made a mistake when she became money hungry.

  I would have got rid of her sooner, if she hadn’t followed me to Victoria to begin with. Though, instead of making me pick her or the change of location, she took the choice out of my hands and made the move herself… with the money I’d given her of course.

  So I kept her around because I wasn’t as cruel as people believed—unless they fucked me or mine over. Then I was, as my friend Link put it, downright scary.

  Soon though, very soon, I would happily see Pam out of our lives. I’d been meaning to get rid of her for some time, but the move, business, and Izzy had kept me busy. Fuck, I hadn’t even gotten off using her body in over four months. She’d tried, but I couldn’t handle her touch. Another reason she had to go.

  She’d been the only girlfriend to meet Izzy, which I regretted, but it was by accident. Not that Izzy knew Pam and I were seeing each other. I made sure my daughter understood Pam was only a friend. She wouldn’t even be that for much longer.

  Violet didn’t know the man I was now, but I knew the woman she was, and she wasn’t the only one who could find out about a person. I knew she owned her own PI business, had Ryan Warden, Chuck Stanley, and Butch Callington working for her. She was thirty-four, looked twenty-five, and lived alone in the city. She paid her taxes on time, went out on a couple of dates in the past three years but preferred to go to the gym or stay at home reading or watching TV. I even knew when her rubbish day was.

  Why?

  Because I had stayed away for a decade in the hope she would marry or get a boyfriend that stuck, but she didn’t. Her career meant the most to her, and it was time for me to teach her there was more to life than working.

  It was time to reclaim the woman who had always been mine.

  Chapter One

  Violet

  Some have said I have a temper. Others said they didn’t see it; those people didn’t actually know the real me. I knew I had a temper, which was why I took up being a private investigator. I wasn’t a people person. I didn’t want to work in a police station or as a detective because I wanted to be in charge. I didn’t want to work alongside dickheads. This way, I got to pick the people who I wanted around me. At first, I weeded out the douches who thought being a PI was all fun and games. It took a couple of years, but finally, I had the best team with Warden and Chuck, who, unfortunately, was leaving me soon, so I hired Butch to replace him. And I knew he would fit in well.

  “You’ve ruined my fucking life, you bitch,” Mr Donahue yelled as he stood in front of my desk.

  “Well then, maybe you should have kept your dick in your pants,” I suggested.

  Just as he started to lean over the desk, Butch strode over, grabbed Mr Donahue’s arms and hauled him towards the door.

  “Get your hands off me. I’ll sue,” he screamed. “You’re dead. You’re all dead.”

  Raising my voice, I called, “Thank you for the death threat. It’s been recorded, and if anything happens, the police will know who to look for.”

  I caught Mr Donahue paling just before Butch forced him outside, pushing him away from the building. Butch came back in, a scowl on his face. “Do you get many of these jerks coming in?”

  “Mainly the cheaters getting caught out, yes. They don’t want to take responsibility. They need to blame someone, and it’s usually us.”

  The front door opened again. We both looked, expecting it to be Mr Donahue. It wasn’t. “What did I miss?” Zara, my secretary, asked.

  “Another husband complaining about being found out.”

  “I’m always getting lunch when the action goes down,” she complained, dropping a bag of takeaway onto my desk and handing one to Butch. He gave her a nod and went back to his desk. “Butch, you need to meet Chuck out at Stanberry’s place in an hour. Vi, you have a meeting in an hour with the Gradins.”

  I groaned.


  Zara laughed. “Tell me again why you hate these meetings? Ones where the client is going to praise you for your good work after finding their child, when the police couldn’t, I’ll hasten to add. Yet you’d rather hide under your desk so you don’t have to face them.”

  “I’m not good with praise. I just want to do the job, succeed, and then get paid.”

  Zara rolled her eyes and snorted. Since getting to know her and her bubbly personality, she’d grown on me. So much so, I would do whatever necessary to have her back. Zara shook her head before returning to her desk at the front. She’d been with us for a couple of weeks. I’d been meaning to look for an assistant but hadn’t had the chance, and then she’d walked in with her resumé. As soon as she became flustered and told me her last name, which was different to the one on her actual resumé, I’d known she had a past she wanted to escape from. After she’d left, I found out exactly who her husband was and guessed she was running from him and his shit. My guesses were usually right. I wasn’t sure if he would come looking for her here, but I wanted to be close to help if needed.

  There was also the fact she lived opposite my brother’s motorcycle club compound and one of his businesses.

  A brother I hadn’t seen in many years because he’d stuck with the Hawks MC even when they’d dealt with illegal things such as guns, women, and drugs.

  Even after Talon had taken over as president and cleaned the place up, we hadn’t reached out to one another.

  We were both stubborn.

  In a way, I hoped having Zara work with me would somehow lead me back into my brother’s life where it wouldn’t look like I was the one giving in.

  I made sure my life was above board. Talon also did, but without a doubt, I knew his life would be run by his rules, and not all of them would be completely legal.

  We were so very fucking stubborn.

  * * *

  “Please, thank you again. I can’t say it enough for you bringing Angela back to us,” Mrs Monroe said, shaking my hand for the millionth time. At least I had her to the front door; I was so close to having her gone.

  “I’m just glad she’s home, Mrs Monroe.” I felt sorry for Mrs Monroe. Angela was a hormonal teen with a big-arse attitude to boot, and would probably disappear with her older boyfriend in the next few weeks. But I’d done my job, and I didn’t have to do anything else. Yet, I still raised my concern. “She may do this again.”

  Mrs Monroe sighed and nodded. “I had that feeling also.”

  “She’s not eighteen yet, Mrs Monroe. Means you can change things.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “Keep my number in case, and if you fear she’s going to run, call me. Free of charge of course.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. It was my time to retreat. I didn’t do well with crying since I hardly did it myself. “Thank you for coming in, but Warden is calling me over.”

  Warden, hearing his name being called, raised his head and rolled his eyes. “Ah, yeah, I need help with something for a second.” He knew the drill. If he saw me dealing with an emotional client, he had to be my distraction.

  Mrs Monroe nodded and hugged my tense body. “Yes, yes. You must be busy. Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome.” I smiled before turning and making my way over to Warden. Zara would fix the bill, so I had to make sure I looked busy until the coast was clear.

  Warden pointed at something on his screen. I nodded. He whispered, “You know you’re a woman too and this crying shit shouldn’t scare you.”

  “Shut up.” I hissed through my teeth and grinned down at him. As soon as I heard the door open and close, I looked over. Zara was already shaking her head at me.

  “What?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “Good, I’m going to skip out early. Warden, you good to lock up?”

  “You know it.”

  “Thanks. Butch and Chuck won’t show until tomorrow, hopefully with some news on their case.”

  I went to my desk and grabbed my keys and purse before starting for the door.

  “You have a 9:00 a.m. meeting with a Mrs Bendale,” Zara reminded me.

  “I’ll be sure to arrive early for it. Later, guys.”

  “Bye.” Zara waved. Warden grunted.

  As I drove home, I smiled. Business was good. Even when I had pricks like Mr Donahue showing, I was still happy with how things were going. I’d caught up on most of my paperwork, so it was a night of relaxing and enjoying the quiet.

  At home, I turned on the living room light since it was nearly dark, then walked into the kitchen and did the same. After I called for a pizza, I showered, then dressed in leggings and a hoody before heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Bottle in hand, I made my way into the living room. The quiet of the place had started to get to me more and more recently. I picked up the remote and sat on the couch, turning on the TV. Reruns of Friends were on, so I left it on the channel and got comfortable.

  I glanced around my living room. I wasn’t a woman who wanted much, but I was in a place where I could buy anything I wanted. I just didn’t need much in life.

  And I was happy.

  I was.

  I had a great business, wonderful colleagues, a place of my own. I went out when I wanted, which wasn’t often. I dated when I felt the need to, and again, it wasn’t often.

  I was happy with how my life was.

  I wasn’t missing anything.

  I refused to think of the man who could have been on the couch beside me, if only I had asked him to stay. But I didn’t want to be the woman to make a man pick her over his career. Especially when I’d been just as ambitious as he’d been.

  I refused to think of the loss I felt when he left.

  I hid it even when we’d kept in contact for a while.

  Weakness wasn’t something I showed. I’d been weak after he’d left. Weak because I’d missed him with every breath I took.

  But I wasn’t thinking of him and how I knew he was living in Ballarat. I refused to know where he actually lived. That way, I wouldn’t head on over to see what he looked like after all these years. I refused to think of my desire to run into him down the street.

  Lives changed.

  People changed.

  I’d heard how he’d changed, so not knowing him these days was for the better.

  I would push all those thoughts of him aside.

  I didn’t need anything more in life. I was happy, and I’d keep telling myself that every day.

  Instead of thinking of anything else, I would enjoy my show, my pizza, and my night all on my own.

  Jesus, was I pathetic?

  Or just feeling lonely?

  Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

  Still… I wonder what he’s doing right now.

  Bloody hell, where did me not thinking of him go?

  The doorbell chimed. If it wouldn’t have been weird, I would have kissed the hell out of the pizza delivery person for dragging me from my depressing thoughts. Instead, I gave them a huge smile and retreated to the sofa, pizza in hand, to indulge in brain-numbing TV.

  Chapter Two

  Violet

  It was late when my phone on my work desk rang a few weeks later. I was still in the office trying to catch up on paperwork. I glanced to the screen to see Zara’s home number flashing.

  “Lo,” I answered.

  “Why ’ello there, Miss Marcus. You know, I really should have taken notice of your last name more because it’s just like Talon’s.” Last week, shit had hit the fan in Zara’s life. Her arsehole ex, who used to beat, belittle, and rape her, had discovered Zara’s whereabouts. At least we believed he had since her parents had not long died and her brother found her because of it. We all suspected her brother, Mattie, could have been followed, leading David Goodwill right to her doorstep. I found the information out the day Zara didn’t come into work, and I’d called. Only, instead of speaking with Zara, I got her annoying friend, and wh
en she told me Zara wasn’t coming in and to mind my own business, I knew something was up. I went to her house and found my brother in her living room. At first I was shocked to see him. However, I should have realised it was only a matter of time before Talon had his sights set on Zara since she was always her stunning, goofy self. I’d learnt it’d taken him two years. Talon must have lost his touch with women. Then again, Zara had a past where it caused her to be standoffish with men.

  By the end of it, Talon and I both agreed Zara would have protection, not only from his Hawks members but from me and my crew.

  Smiling, I knew she was drunk from her slurring words. However, to mess with her, I asked, “Zara?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Maybe a wee little bit, and I thought, I’m having a few drinks with Deanna and Julian, and I was missing someone, and that someone was you. Now get your behind here and drink with us,” she ordered.

  My nose screwed up at hearing her friend’s name Deanna. She and I had a hate-slash-hate relationship. I thought the woman a bitch, but Zara seemed to like her. At least I could give Deanna shit and she took it or gave it back. That was entertaining. “I doubt Barbie”—my name for Deanna since she looked like one—“wants me there.”

  “Oh, don’t mind her. She’s all full of shit bein’ a hater.”

  “No, I’m not,” I heard Deanna yell in the background.