Breaking Karma Read online

  Breaking Karma

  Charity Ferrell

  Breaking Karma ©2016 Charity Ferrell

  All rights reserved.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support in author’s rights.

  Breaking Karma is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  OTHER TITLES BY CHARITY FERRELL

  Bad For You

  Beneath our Faults

  Karma

  Pretty and Reckless

  Revive Me

  Stepbrother Aflame

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  DESCRIPTION

  This is my redemption.

  This is me getting my girl back.

  Love was never in Dalton Douglas' vocabulary until Gabby stumbled into his bedroom one drunken night. He fell for her. She fell for him - until secrets were revealed that tore them and their entire world apart.

  Now Gabby is gone, and Dalton has no idea where she's run off to.

  Then he's brought in for questioning about the murder of the woman they'd been investigating. When they mention Gabby's name and ask about her whereabouts, Dalton knows he has to find her, keep her safe, and win her love back all at the same time.

  Can Dalton redeem himself?

  Will Gabby forgive him?

  Or will karma win?

  CHAPTER ONE

  DALTON

  Interrogation rooms.

  I’ll tell you one thing about them. They’re nothing like in the movies.

  Nothing.

  Nope. They’re shitholes in comparison.

  And speaking of shit, that’s how my entire week had been going.

  Losing the girl I loved was shit.

  Losing control of my first case at my job was shit.

  Everything was shit.

  I glanced around the congested room, panic nestling in my bones, and studied the desolate walls. My nostrils flared at the stench of stale cigarettes, vomit, and desperation. I leaned back in my chair, let out a deep groan, and wondered how many people had confessed their transgressions in this room? How many killers had sat in this same exact chair?

  My patience wavered with each passing minute. This was the last damn thing I needed right now. They had to get in here and explain themselves before I walked out and told them to kiss my ass until they had a warrant.

  The longer they left me, the faster my mind sped.

  One question haunted me.

  What did they know?

  They had to know something. The police didn’t show up at your front door and bring you into the station for shits and giggles.

  I gulped, tasting the bitter after effects from my whiskey binge last night, even after three brushes this morning. Kavalon Single Malt had become my best friend lately. That motherfucker and I were having nightly meetings to erase the fact that the woman I loved walked away from me, and I had no one to blame but myself. The liquid supplement helped me sleep. That was, until I started dreaming about her. Then the bottle was back in my hand as I took shots straight to the head.

  I was hung-over, heartbroken, and sitting in the police station.

  A shitty situation for an even shittier day.

  My muscles tensed up when the door finally swung open. I frowned, feeling my heart kick, while I watched the two men shuffle into the room. I recognized them both. Of course, it had to be them. Things were about to go from bad to worse.

  Harold Finch and David Whitman.

  Both men were employed by the Atlanta Police Department.

  Both men despised my family and me.

  Not a single word was muttered as David shut the door behind them. Gripped tight in Harold’s hand was a laptop. The stainless steel table shook when he slammed it down and made a show of opening up the screen so it faced me.

  I kept my eyes on the computer screen while the screech of their chairs sliding across the floor echoed through the room. Harold fell down in the one directly across from me, obviously taking the lead. David took the one beside him.

  Harold rested his chubby elbows on the table before clearing his throat. “I’d like to show you something, Dalton,” he said. His protruding belly smashed into the edge of the table when he leaned in to hit the play button on the computer.

  My stomach twisted in horror.

  I saw myself. I saw her.

  Nervousness shot through me while fear slapped me in the face.

  No. I wasn’t going to let them drag her into my mess.

  I straightened up, watching the security footage play out, and tried my best to mask my anxiety. I remembered the moment like it was yesterday. We were talking to the guy at the front desk to gain access to an apartment. A now dead woman’s apartment. The guy reached for the phone, and you could see me, clear as fucking day, stop him. Even more incriminating was me reaching into my pocket, pulling out a Benjamin, and discreetly slipping it to him. Guilt screamed around us like a song, pointing straight at me.

  Harold cleared his throat before speaking. “Care to explain why you bribed the man to allow you clearance into a woman named Ivy Hart’s apartment?” he asked. His black pornstache raised as an arrogant smile tugged at his lips. The fucker loved this.

  I shrugged. Appear as calm and collected as possible. Don’t let them grasp your fear. “I needed to talk to her,” I answered.

  “You needed to talk to her?” he repeated. Sarcasm dripped with his question.

  My gaze stayed pinned to the screen – to her.

  A few seconds passed before I looked away to them. Harold’s uniform was wrinkled, faded, and spotted with coffee stains and who the fuck knew what else. David’s, on the other hand, was in pristine condition.

  Harold did his best stare down performance, but he didn’t look one bit intimidating. The guy used to babysit me and wipe my shitty diapers, for fuck sakes. Him and my dad had been best friends once. They were in business together until shit went sour. Now, Harold wanted nothing more than to be the gasoline that brought my family down in flames. I wasn’t about to be the hand that supplied the match.

  “And what did you need to talk to her about?” he asked.

  “What was your relationship with her?” David added, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. I didn’t miss the cold glare Harold gave him for interrupting.

  I’d gone to high school with David. He’d been a decent guy, but a loner. When he graduated from
the Academy, he made sure his new position of power was known. He’d made it his mission to seek revenge out on all of the guys who didn’t befriend him in school and the chicks that he couldn’t lay. I’d lost count of the number of speeding tickets the jackass had given me. My friends also racked up a heavy record of DUI arrests.

  I was dealing with amateurs, but these amateurs had pure hate in their veins for me.

  A deep breath released from my lungs. This wasn’t the first time Douglas PR and Law had been in a situation like this, but never for a homicide case. It was usually along the lines of representing someone for committing fraud, corruption, or extortion, not fucking murder.

  “That’s confidential,” I finally answered.

  Ivy Hart. The dead woman. I’d been assigned her as my first case after passing my bar and joining my dad’s firm. I prayed it wouldn’t be my last, either. So far I was still employed, although I hadn’t been given any more work. He was punishing me until I fixed this.

  And I needed to do that fast. Even if I despised my family right now for what they’d done, I had to have their back. I wasn’t feeding Harold a crumb to lead him anywhere. If the truth were exposed on why we were at her apartment, it would’ve been considered the perfect motive.

  And if they considered that the perfect motive, I wasn’t going to be the only one in deep shit. There was going to be a long list of people joining me in my cell. It was my job to prevent that from happening, to stop what could possibly be one of the biggest scandals of the year.

  I was doing a terrible job at it so far.

  Harold huffed. “This is a homicide case.” He opened up a folder sitting in front of him and threw down a photo in front of me. “There isn’t shit confidential when it comes to this, Douglas.”

  I slowly looked down at it. Thank fuck I didn’t have a weak stomach. It was grotesque and showed every dark detail of her death.

  I studied the naked body covered in dark, crimson blood. You couldn’t even recognize her. Scratches lined her bare skin, along with deep stab wounds. They’d finished her off with a gun shot straight to the temple. Whoever did this had wanted her to suffer before she took her last breath.

  My stomach curled. The woman in the picture had completely fucked me over, but I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. I didn’t know who killed her, but I needed to find out.

  I slid the picture back to him without giving it another look. “If you have any additional questions for me, you can take them up with my attorney. Am I free to go?”

  Harold held up his finger. “One more question for you, boy. Where’s the girl accompanying you in this video?”

  I froze up at the mention of her, trying to keep a straight face. I was hoping they wouldn’t bring her into this. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  My lungs took a lapse of air when he slapped down another picture. It was the first day we’d been on assignment together - when we went to Ivy’s place. We were in the elevator. I had her pinned up against the wall with both my mouth and hands on her.

  “Gabrielle Taylor. Where is she?” he asked.

  I ducked my hands underneath the table and dug my fingernails into my thighs. I wished I knew the answer to his question. Granted, I wouldn’t have told him if I did. I wanted to know for my own self-satisfaction. She’d left me with no warning and wasn’t answering my calls. It was wrong to be angry with her because it was my fault. But losing her was suffocating, and I needed my air back.

  “That’s irrelevant. She has nothing to do with this. None of us do,” I answered, my voice growing harsher with each word. “You need to quit wasting your time questioning me and look for the real killer. You and I both know my family isn’t stupid enough to murder someone, especially a person I’m on camera visiting. You know we’re smarter than that.”

  I settled back in my chair. He could’ve kept me there all day, but I wasn’t talking about Gabby. She was the only person who was completely innocent in this mess. My family had already ripped her to pieces. I wouldn’t allow Harold to finish her off.

  “It is relevant. She snuck into a woman’s apartment, harassed her, and then that woman ended up murdered in a back alley. She then skips town.” He let out a low, mocking laugh. “If that doesn’t scream, “I’m guilty,” then I don’t know what does. Oh, and according to the victim’s parents, you also showed up at their home and the dad had to pull a gun on you to get you to go away.”

  My jaw clenched. “We didn’t sneak into her apartment,” I corrected, knowing damn well I needed to shut my mouth, but I couldn’t stop myself when it came to protecting her. “You watched the surveillance video. You can clearly see Ivy letting us into her apartment willingly. It wasn’t even around the time she was killed. It was over a month ago. Now, like I said, I’m finished with this conversation. You have no warrant to hold me.”

  Harold chewed on his lower lip. I knew him well enough to know he was brainstorming, trying to conjure up a way to manipulate the system and book me.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “I don’t have a warrant yet. But don’t forget, I’ll be here waiting for you to slip-up. And when that happens, I’ll get you and your family. I’ll stop at nothing until you pay for your part in this woman’s death.”

  I slapped my hand down on the table and pushed myself forward. “Good luck with that. You’re going to be walking an empty trail. I played no part in it,” I said, a hard sneer in my tone. They stayed quiet as I pulled away and got up from my chair. “I’ll see myself out.”

  I kept my head down and ignored the curious stares coming at me from every angle of the station. I smacked open the front doors with extra force and hustled my ass outside. The blazing sun beat down against my black suit as I pulled my phone from my pocket to dial a cab.

  “I figured you wouldn’t want to ask one of those dudes for a ride.”

  I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. Murphy was standing a few feet away from me, leaning back against one of the company cars. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, and a baseball cap covered his shaved head.

  “I’m sure they gave you a good time in there,” he went on.

  “You know it,” I muttered, heading his way. “Door prizes, cupcakes, a celebratory dance.” I slapped him on the shoulder when I reached him and ducked into the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride, man.” I turned up the AC and loosened my shirt collar. As soon as he jumped into the driver’s side I asked him what I’d been dying to know. “Did you find what I asked for?”

  Murphy was one of the best IT guys at our company. He excelled at finding people and hacking into shit he shouldn’t be in. Asher, my cousin, had been on the Ivy case because my dad wanted to keep it in the family, but Murphy jumped on board when he left for football conditioning.

  I noticed his hesitation as he slowly nodded.

  “Spit it out,” I told him.

  “She’s in Miami,” he said, pressing on the gas pedal and heading into traffic.

  “Miami?” I asked, in confusion. “What the hell is she doing in Miami?” I racked my brain, trying to figure out what would’ve brought her there out of all places. Then it hit me. “Fucking Asher,” I groaned, throwing my head back against the headrest. “Mother fucker.”

  My blood went hot, and Murphy’s silence gave me the answer I needed. She was there with him. He was my cousin, but that still pissed me off. She was mine, not his. Not anyone else’s.

  I clenched my fist together and held back the urge to throw it through the window. She’d run straight into his arms the second something rough happened in our relationship. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself and make shit right. She didn’t even know the full story.

  “Book me a flight,” I told him.

  His head swung my way. “You think that’s smart?” He looked at me like I was bat-shit crazy. “Dude, you were just brought into the police station to get interrogated for murder. If you leave, it will look really fucking bad. You’ll have a target on your back
.”

  Everything around me was turning into a shit storm. Ivy had been murdered. John had gone missing for days, giving people the assumption that he was the person responsible for her death. My dad and uncle were at each other’s throats for what he’d done to Gabby. My dad wasn’t smart enough to realize that messing with your brother’s stepdaughter was off limits, whether you liked her or not.

  “Book the ticket and keep your mouth shut about it,” I answered.

  My mind was made up. I needed to get to her before they did. They’d go in full force, catching her off guard, and she wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. She had to come back to Atlanta to clear her name. That’s why I was getting her; at least that was my story. But I knew I had my own selfish purposes for bringing her back home.

  Murphy responded with a nod, letting me know he still thought I was making a mistake. The ride stayed quiet until he pulled into the parking garage of our office building.

  “I got you, man,” he finally said, gearing the car into park. “But if your dad finds out, don’t get me in trouble. I can’t be losing my job because you always think with your dick.”

  “It will be my ass, I promise. Trust me, my dad knows you’re irreplaceable.”

  ***

  I took a few deep breaths at the same time I stepped out from the elevator. I already knew what was impending, but I wasn’t sure which side of my dad I was going to be dealing with. He’d been changing colors like a chameleon lately and keeping up was exhausting.

  “Your dad wants to see you,” Summer called out, as soon as she noticed me walking through the lobby. She looked up at me from the front desk and gave me a hopeful smile. She was my dad’s mistress, which meant she was most likely receiving the brunt end to most of his mood swings. He took that shit out on her. I felt bad about her being caught up with him.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I told her, lifting up my chin. He was waiting for my arrival. I was surprised he hadn’t met me at the police station, but I was a big boy. He wanted me to handle this, fix it on my own, and then answer to him.