Shattered Dreams (The Believe Series Book 1) Read online

  Shattered Dreams

  The Believe Series

  Book 1

  Angela Fattig

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Copyright @ 2015

  Published by Misfit Toy Publishing & Angela Fattig

  Cover art by: Cover Me Silly Designs

  Editor: Keene-Eye Editing

  Language: English

  ISBN-13: 978-1508416074

  ISBN-10: 1508416079

  RECOMMEND FOR READERS 18 AND UP DUE TO EXPLICIT SEXUAL SITUATION, STRONG LANGUAGE, AND VIOLENCE

  Contents

  Playlist

  Quote

  Dedication

  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

  Author Bio

  Where to find the Author

  More Books by Angela Fattig

  Playlist

  Believe: Cher

  Let it Hurt: Rascal Flatts

  Hero: Enrique Iglesias

  (You want to) Make a Memory: Bon Jovi

  Sail: AWOLNATION

  Never Again: Nickelback

  Try: Pink

  Crash and Burn: Savage Garden

  Numb: Linkin Park

  Within You: David Bowie

  I Remember You: Skid Row

  Loverman: Metallica

  At Last: Etta James

  Bring Me to Life: Evanescence

  The One: Gary Allen

  The Struggle Within: Metallica

  The Unforgiven: Metallica

  November Rain: Guns-n-Roses

  I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing: Aerosmith

  Paradise by the Dashboard Lights: Meat loaf

  Couldn’t Have Said it Better: Meat Loaf

  Stay: Rihanna & Mikky Ekko

  You’re All I Have: Snow Patrol

  I Touch Myself: Divinyls

  All of Me: Meat Loaf

  Open Wounds: Skillet

  Turn the Page: Metallica

  Quote

  Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

  Edgar Allan Poe

  We loved with a love that was more than love.

  Edgar Allan Poe

  Dedication

  My Dearest Readers,

  It truly has been a journey. When 2014 began, I never envisioned that it would end the way it did. Nonetheless, by December, I had published eleven books!

  My first set of books was Invasion Trilogy. Looking back at them and comparing them to this book, I have learned a great deal.

  The Broken Series ended the year (still 2 books to finish the series). It touched on Human Trafficking and abuse. I believe in giving all my books, whether they are romance or science fiction, a realistic feel.

  The Believe Series will be the same. As with my past erotic romances, I was new to writing that genre. I’m hoping that after the practice I got writing The Broken Series and my Cowboy Collection, I will be able to put myself all the way out there and make your experience even better.

  Having said that, I want to dedicate this new series to all my devoted readers and to the new readers that will discover me along the way.

  I also want to say a huge thank you to my PA, Amber McCarty, my Street Team, Author Angela Fattig’s Sexy Mistress Street Team, and Angela’s Beta Freaks. Without you helping to promote me, my books, and being brave enough to tell me when my writing stinks, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

  I fucking love all of you!

  Angela

  Chapter One

  Surrounded by Idiots

  Present Day

  “God damn incompetent idiots,” I scream across the room at the men whom I employ, “I should just solve the problem myself. What is so fucking hard about bringing me the man’s fucking head?”

  One of them shrugs. “Sorry boss,” he says.

  I march around my desk, stepping in front of him. Not breaking eye contact, I slowly reach behind my back to grip the gun I have secured at my waist. “Sorry,” I say, “You’re fucking sorry?”

  “Well, at least we got him here,” he continues, “And we beat the piss out of him too.” He says this as a huge smile spreads across his face.

  I tilt my head to the side. “And you think I should be happy with that?” I ask.

  “Well,” he shrugs, “Ya, I think you should be.”

  If I wasn’t pissed before, I fucking am now. The corners of my mouth start to twitch and I can’t stamp out the burning need to laugh. As the men join me in what they assume is a pleased laugh, I lift the gun and fire. The bullet hits him between the eyes, causing his brains to spray out the back of his head. Then there’s silence and I turn to the others.

  “Anyone else believe I should be happy?” I ask waving my gun in the air. They stand stock still, no one daring to move. “I didn’t fucking think so. Rick Hinder has been a thorn in my fucking side long enough. Now, let’s go scare the little fucker.”

  Chapter Two

  Reflection

  Pain.

  The excruciating pain, the darkness, and the smell; I know where I am, the fish market right off the bank of Lake Michigan. This is where they take everyone who has a debt to pay, normally with their life.

  The Facciolo family, one of the oldest Italian mob families in Chicago, is known as the most bloodthirsty, the most ruthless. What they want is what they get, no questions asked.

  At the head of the organization is Angelo Facciolo. He is what you would call the “Godfather”. Few rarely stood up to him, and he was a man who was not used to hearing the word “No”.

  Sitting here, I knew that I had really fucked up this time and my days are numbered. I had borrowed money from the wrong people this time, and instead of a busted jaw or some broken ribs, I would pay with my life. That is, unless I can convince him to give me one last chance.

  Gage, my younger, detective, half-brother warned me that one day I would reap what I sow. I would always laugh it off. I didn’t have a problem with gambling; at least that’s what I always claimed. Yet, here I am, wondering when I will draw my last breath. Wondering when the ground is going to drop out from under me.

  I sigh; I could have had a different life, once upon a time. I had the “dream” laid at my feet, and what did I do? I’ll tell you what I fucking did. I crushed her; broke her. I was young and hadn’t wanted to grow up. I wasn’t ready for what she had to offer. I was too busy playing the field. Too busy fucking every girl I saw. So, I broke her.

  At the same time, I knew Gage wanted her,
and goddamit, I was so fucking tired of our parents comparing us and making me feel as if I wasn’t worthy of being part of the family. So I made sure that when I broke her, that even Gage didn’t get her. Ya, can you tell I am just a little bitter?

  Reflection...

  Regret...

  Second Chances...

  Fuck that! I have to figure out how to save my life here. I’m a selfish asshole and never claimed otherwise. I will use, hurt, and destroy anyone to get what I think I need or deserve, and right now, I need to live. Just then, I heard a door open. I needed to think fast, my life depended on it.

  “Well, well, well,” I hear Angelo say in his heavy Italian accent, as he enters from somewhere off to my right. “Look what the cat dragged in, boys.”

  There is laughter all around me, and as I listen, I know in that moment that Angelo is not going to allow me to live.

  There is some shuffling and I can feel someone standing in front of me. I can smell him and it makes my stomach turn. The sack that had been placed over my head is removed. I squint as the bright lights in the room blind me. My head quakes and I feel the bile rise to my throat.

  “Rick Hinder,” Angelo hisses. I’m looking at the two men standing in front of me holding a full mirror. “As you can see, my boys went easy on you, but know this you rotten piece of shit, this will be the only warning you will get from me and I never give second chances.”

  Through my swollen eyes and blurred vision, I study their handiwork; two black eyes, a busted and bleeding lip, and a couple of broken teeth. Ya, I look fucking great.

  “Angelo,” I start, knowing that any type of begging would only bring his wrath quicker. “I won’t beg or plead. I know I fucked up. The only thing I have to say is I know how to fix this.” I don’t, yet, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  He waves the two men with the mirror away and takes a seat behind his desk. He leans back and begins stroking his chin and then smiles. “You must think I’m a fucking idiot,” he starts, “You are a lousy liar, Rick Hinder. Regardless, there is something about you that strikes a chord. You’re vicious and bloodthirsty. I like those two qualities in a person.” Smiling, he waves the other men from the room.

  The bile is back in my throat. I am nothing like this fucker, but if it saves me for another day, then I’ll go along with it.

  He sits, studying me for another few minutes before he finally speaks again, his face growing serious, “Don’t underestimate the enormity of what brought you before me. The realm of your sins cannot be held, only seen. Your first with me was not enlightening me on who you were.”

  I adjust myself as well as I can, considering I am still tied to the chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stutter. I knew the second I was had. I knew exactly what Angelo was talking about.

  Angelo raises a perfectly shaped brow and sits forward. “Really, Rick,” he questions. “Lying again? Didn’t I already tell you that I can see right through you?” He sits back again, shaking his head. “Now I am beginning to reconsider giving you another chance. Enlighten me, Rick, what is the little secret that you chose to omit when you first came to me?”

  I couldn’t. If I admitted that I never told him my half-brother is a Chicago Detective in the drug trafficking and money laundering division, he will surly kill me on the spot.

  Granted, Gage is in training, as not many twenty-eight year olds ever make detective so young. However, Gage helped to bring down a human trafficking ring last year. Therefore, that gives him the boost he needed to make detective so early in his career.

  Angelo sighs and presses a button on his phone. “Tsk, tsk,” he says. “What a pity. You have the balls to ask me for money, proceed to lose it all, but you don’t have the balls to tell me the truth.” He shakes his head, “That’s a real shame Rick.”

  My breath catches. I had a feeling that by my silence I signed my death warrant. I feel the panic build in my chest. My head flips around when I hear the door open and Angelo waves the two men over.

  I look between them stalking towards me and back to Angelo. “Wait, Angelo,” I began to beg. “Wait, I’ll tell you, please. You have to give me another chance.”

  I saw my life flash before my eyes as the two men smirk. Turning back to Angelo, he shakes his head. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, Rick,” he starts, shaking his head again. “I don’t have to do a fucking thing for you.”

  The men are now standing behind me and I am still tied to this fucking chair. Fighting to loosen the ropes, I look back to Angelo. “You fucking bastard,” I spit out. I hear Angelo laugh just as searing pain erupts in the back of my head and the world goes black.

  Chapter Three

  I’m fine

  Forty-Five Days Earlier

  ‘I’m fine,’ I think to myself as I finished writing the current chapter. How many times a day does a person say “I’m fine,” when in reality they are broken inside? Well, if I’m anything to go by, too many to count.

  Alicia Winters, a twenty-nine year old erotic romance author and lonely spinster. I laugh inwardly.

  Spinster? Yep, that’s me. Not by choice, it just never happened. I learned a long time ago that the only person you can ever count on or trust is yourself. As much as I love my best friend, Shannon, I just can’t bring myself to fully open up. I had built a wall around my heart and soul a long time ago, and not even an iceberg could bring it down.

  I’m not saying that men don’t look, I just don’t look back. There’s nothing wrong with my looks; brown wavy hair that flows to the middle of my back, brown eyes that have been called “puppy dog eyes” many times. My body, well I’m not super skinny, but I’m not what you would call plus size either. I guess I fall right in the middle. At five foot seven, I can hold my own in public, except I don’t.

  The only time I leave my house is to go to work; human resources manager by day and romance writer by night. Yep, that’s my life.

  I’m not much of a people person. I know it really doesn’t match both of my professions as by day, I deal with hundreds of people, and at night, it’s me and my book boyfriends. True, it’s a boring life, but a safe life. Book boyfriends are safe. You always know that in the end, you will have your HEA. In real life, prince charming doesn’t exist, not for me anyway.

  I’ve dated some since that nightmare day back in high school. Yes, I know, high school was a long time ago and I should be over what happened. Yet, there are just some things, some words that no matter the amount of time, never truly leave you. They cling, like the scum ring in a bathtub; no matter how much you tell yourself that if you just keep scrubbing it will come off. However, it never does. Then, each time you take a bath, you never really feel clean.

  “Fuck romance and fuck men!” I’ve had my fill. The only men I date now are the ones I create. It’s just safer that way.

  Shannon, my best friend, is always trying to get me to go out with her. Some nights, I give in. Why fight it? That girl is relentless.

  Of course, she disagrees with most of my reasoning. She loves men; she just doesn’t do the relationship thing. She tells me, ‘why tie yourself down to just one when there is a whole ocean out there just waiting to be conquered’. I just laugh and shake my head. I disagree with her, but it’s her attitude towards life that keeps me sane. Shannon and I are like night and day, yet our friendship thrives.

  Shannon Taylor; blonde with baby blue eyes, her skin is flawless. Petite, yet she has the hourglass figure that turns men on. Not to mention how well-endowed she is in the chest department.

  My moto; who needs a man when you have a good book and a vibrator?

  As if she knew I was thinking about her, my cell rings. I groan knowing the reason for the call. It’s Friday night and she wants to hit the bars.

  “Hello Shannon,” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Come on Alicia,” Shannon says, leading into her lecture on my hermit status, “You need a night out and so do I. Don’t be a prude.”

  I
can hear her pouting through the phone and I sigh. “Shannon, I’m tired. Can’t we do this tomorrow night?” I plead with her.

  “I will not fall for that lame excuse,” she huffs. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes and you better be ready.” She hangs up before I can respond. Sometimes Shannon rakes my nerves, but I love her.

  I met Shannon our freshmen year of college. At first, she was a little standoffish, but so was I. Judging from the outside, she was a happy and confident young woman, ready to take the world by the balls. However, if you took the time to really look at her, you would see the sadness, the loneliness in her beautiful eyes.

  I was able to see that; buried deep beneath the surface, Shannon was battling her own demons. I never asked, nor did she ever offer to tell me. Hell, I had my own demons to battle.

  All though college her song was, “Janie’s Got A Gun” by Aerosmith. I often wondered, but new better than to ask. I just made sure that she knew I was here if she ever needed to talk.

  No matter what her past had held, she did very well for herself. She has a great job with a PR firm and lives in a good neighborhood.

  Shannon’s been a little off lately. Maybe it’s time I step up and be a real friend. I sigh as I stand to see what I could change into. My life, however, didn’t thrive off my past. If anything, it never changed.

  I am still that lost, scared, and lonely girl of eighteen, just begging her knight in shining armor to swoop in and rescue her. Human resource managers don’t see much action. Even if the day was spent watching a revolving door of sexy as sin men, they wouldn’t notice me. The only action I get these days is from my writing and Steve, my battery operated boyfriend. Yes, he is the only man I can count on. Sad I know, but true.

  I’m staring into my closet, holding a pair of jeans when Shannon storms in.

  “You are not seriously thinking of wearing that are you,” she demands to know as she pushes me out of the way. I roll my eyes as I watch her destroy my closet. “Here, this will work.” Stepping through the door and turning to me, she is holding the sexy number I had hidden in the back.