Face the Music

By Velvet Vaughn

Ever since their chance encounter on the crowded streets of New York City, COBRA Securities Co-Founder Luke Colton can't erase Layla Brooks from his thoughts. It wasn't just her beauty that captivated him, but the look of stark terror on her face. Angry with himself for not following her, knowing she must be in danger, he's shocked when she ends up on his doorstep. He vows to do whatever it takes to protect her...but he forgets to protect his heart.

Singing sensation Layla Brooks survived attempts by her stepfather to kill her, but knowing he won't stop until he succeeds, she fakes her own death. With her siblings in tow, she's running for her life. She finds safety...and so much more...in Luke's strong arms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Velvet Vaughn
• Release date: Mar 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9780986165276

Velvet Vaughn

Velvet Vaughn was born in Indiana and spent fifteen years in communications, public relations, marketing and executive management in amateur sports. Articles she has written have been published in several magazines and reprinted in most major newspapers across the country. She served as editor, writer and designer for five sport magazines including one that was distributed to over 140 countries around the world, and one that was displayed in the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. To learn more about Velvet or sign up for her newsletter, visit her at http://www.velvetvaughn.com or http://www.facebook.com/authorvelvetvaughn.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 VELVET VAUGHN LLC

ISBN: 978-0-9861652-7-6

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Visit Velvet’s website at www.velvetvaughn.com and her Facebook Fanpage at www.facebook.com/authorvelvetvaughn.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my grandparents.

Acknowledgments

I would like to sincerely thank the members of my Velvet Vaughn Street Team who help spread the word: Cindi R., Debbie M., Gary A., Karen D., Karen J., Lisa B., and Tammy T. I’m so thankful for all of you and truly appreciate your support!

And as always, a huge thank you to my mom. I couldn’t do this without you!

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

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

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Epilogue

Notes

About the Author

Prologue

Layla Brooks navigated the congested streets of New York City, braking suddenly when a yellow taxi swerved in her lane, cutting her off. The driver honked and gestured as if it was her fault. Maybe it was. She was monumentally distracted.

Her adrenalin was still running high after noticing a man she thought might be looking for her and her siblings—and from her encounter with a tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome stranger.

She made it to the interstate without further incident and headed north to the small cottage she and her twin siblings were renting in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. Her plan to speak to the COBRA Securities agent who took down the Vigilante had been thwarted by a suspicious man with dark shades, meticulously scanning the crowd outside the television station. When her gaze locked onto him, her first impulse had been to run.

Logically, Layla knew there was no way someone would be searching for them outside the studio where the agent was scheduled to appear. She’d only decided to drive down the night before after watching a commercial promoting the interview. But her instincts had screamed the opposite, and run was precisely what Layla insisted her siblings do, sending them to the car parked in a garage a block away. She wanted them safe while she took a closer look. Keeping her gaze trained on him, she stealthily moved closer. She planned on snapping a picture and sending it to Henry Graham. Henry was her anchor, her rock. Without him, she’d most likely be dead.

Layla hadn’t been paying attention as she weaved in and around the throng of spectators, so when she’d slammed into a wall, she’d been momentarily disoriented. It was only after the wall reached out to steady her that she’d realized the wall was, in fact, a human being. Or, more accurately, a muscular giant with short, dark hair, sky blue eyes, and perfect features. She wanted to blame the loss of breath on plowing into his rock-hard body, but gazing at his masculine beauty made all the air abandon her lungs.

As a singer, she’d been around attractive men her entire career. The entertainment industry was filled with them. But none had ever affected her like this one. When their bodies touched, sparks flared. For the first time in over a year, Layla felt alive. The probing, penetrating gaze from his cobalt eyes seemed to reach deep into her soul. She had the overwhelming urge to pour her heart out to him. His shoulders were wide and broad, and she knew he could help carry her burden.

Layla didn’t know how long they’d stared at each other. It could’ve been hours or minutes. She’d been utterly mesmerized. Then someone had bumped into her from behind, jolting her back to reality. She’d whipped around to search for the suspicious man, but he was nowhere to be found. Tiffany and Sean had been all alone in the car. What if he’d watched her siblings take off and followed them? She couldn’t let anything happen to Sean and Tiff.

As hard as it was, Layla had to leave the gorgeous stranger. She needed to make sure the twins were safe. He’d called after her when she bolted, but she kept going, hoping he didn’t pursue her and praying that he did. When she found her brother and sister safe in the vehicle, she’d breathed a sigh of relief and told herself she wasn’t disappointed that the handsome man hadn’t followed.

Layla shook her head to clear the ridiculous thoughts. She’d never see him again. He wasn’t her savior. He wasn’t anything to her but a brief moment in time. Maybe she did drive by slowly and scan the crowd, but he was gone for good. The urge to cry was ridiculous. She had more important things to think about, like keeping her siblings safe and wondering why Henry wasn’t returning her calls.

Layla glanced over her shoulder and changed lanes to pass a slow-moving vehicle. The further she traveled from the city, the lighter the traffic.

When her plan to meet the COBRA Securities agent had been thwarted, she devised a new one. She’d drive to their headquarters and meet with him there. She’d researched the company at the public library and discovered they were located in Indiana. Theoretically, they could make the drive in a day, but it would be a long one. She decided they’d take their time, making it an adventure for the kids. They could stop by any fun roadside attractions along the way. She was both nervous and excited to meet with someone who might be able to help them. She’d been trying to contact Henry for over a week, and he hadn’t responded. That wasn’t like him. They checked in once a week religiously. He’d never missed a call before. She worried about what that meant.

Layla ruthlessly pushed back the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Henry was her only contact with her old life, the only person besides Tiffany and Sean who knew her real identity. If something happened to Henry, she didn’t know how she would manage. That’s why meeting with the COBRA Securities agent had become imperative.

She tried not to dwell on the past. A year ago, she’d been on top of the world. She was a former Miss America and Miss Universe runner-up, touring the world as a chart-topping singer. She’d won a Grammy. She had life by the tail, and the ride was astonishing. Layla owned a house overlooking the ocean in Malibu and a ski chalet in Aspen. She was fortunate that her career had been so lucrative in a short amount of time, and she had more money than she could spend in her lifetime. She glanced around the interior of the beat-up Ford Explorer with rips in the seat and stains on the floor mats and almost laughed. It was a far cry from her cherry-red Porsche or the limos that were her constant transportation in her old life.

Everything changed the night she answered her phone to discover her mother had passed away. Layla had been shocked. Shattered. Her mother was young. Healthy. How could she be dead?

Her mother’s housekeeper, Mrs. Anders, had been the one to break the news to Layla. Her stepfather hadn’t bothered to let her know. Mrs. Anders returned home from shopping and found her mother at the bottom of the staircase, broken and battered. She never regained consciousness. Blunt force trauma, Mrs. Anders told her, was the official cause of death. Layla had been devastated.

Her father had been a decorated soldier, a hero, killed in the line of duty when she was young. Her mom raised her, and it’d been the two of them against the world until the summer of her fourteenth birthday, when her mom met Senator Eugene Mullins of Kennesaw, Georgia. Mullins had been a successful lawyer with an eye for politics. Her mother, still young and beautiful at thirty-three, fell hard for him. After a whirlwind courtship, they married in a lavish ceremony and welcomed twins Sean and Tiffany a few years later. As much as her mother loved him, Layla never warmed up to her stepfather, and the feeling was mutual.

She’d been in college when the twins were born, and she’d spent as much time with them as possible. They were sweet and loving when they were small, always wanting to be hugged and held. As they grew, they became quiet and withdrawn. Layla had assumed the change was because she spent little time with them because of her busy schedule. After she was crowned Miss America, her time became even more limited. From there, her music career soared, and their visits were brief but filled with love. Her siblings adored her, and she showered them with attention. She would’ve taken them on tour with her if she could. She was clueless about the terror they lived with daily.

After her mom’s sudden passing, she’d flown home and was immediately pulled aside by Tiffany and Sean. They were convinced that their father had killed their mother. Layla’s denial had been instant. Though she’d never been particularly fond of the senator, he seemed to love her mother. When Sean told her he’d been verbally abusive for years, she’d been floored. Not only had he destroyed her mother’s self-confidence, but he also subjected his children to verbal abuse. He was controlling and domineering and oversaw every aspect of their lives. They were threatened never to speak against him to anyone, especially her. She felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her. She’d never seen the signs. Looking back, their withdrawal should have been a flashing red light. She blamed herself for not acting sooner.

The twins also suspected he was involved in illegal activities. He dealt with shady characters and conducted secretive phone calls. He disappeared late at night. If their mother questioned him, he yelled until she retreated, usually in tears. Their mother innocently walked into his study one night with a plate of warm cookies, not knowing he was meeting with one of his associates. He’d screamed at her and thrown the platter against the wall, shattering it and sending their mother fleeing the study in fear. She was dead the following day.

Her half-siblings were terrified of their father. Now that their mother was gone, so was their safety. They begged her to take them with her after the funeral. She agreed, and when she informed the senator, he laughed and shooed her out of his office like she was a pesky fly. That’s when she snapped and accused him of murdering her mother. His rage had been chilling. When she followed through and packed bags for the children, he tried to have her killed. She survived that attack and two more, but she knew he’d never give up until she was dead like her mother. She couldn’t take the chance that the kids might be with her during one of his attempts. Her only option was to make him think he succeeded. It meant the end of her career, but her siblings’ lives were more important. With the help of Henry Graham, the head of her security team and a trusted friend, they staged her death. As soon as it was announced that she’d passed, she grabbed Sean and Tiff, and they disappeared.

Henry, a former special ops soldier, had contacts who knew how to make someone vanish. They’d moved most of her money into offshore accounts so no one, especially Mullins, could touch it. She kept enough for her and the kids to live on while they were on the run. The plan had been for Henry to get someone inside Mullins’ operation so they could gather evidence to bring him down. Henry told her it would take time and to be patient. Layla hoped it would happen sooner rather than later, but days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Mullins had tightened security after the twins disappeared.

At first, the cops believed Tiffany and Sean had been kidnapped, possibly for money. They had to leave their phones, computers, and everything but their most cherished possessions and photos to make it look legit. When no ransom note appeared, they were classified as missing. That was almost a year ago.

Instead of imploding following his wife and stepdaughter’s deaths and his two children’s disappearance, Mullins had been practically sainted by the media. He was a tragic hero, plodding forward in the face of adversity. He played up his suffering to the hilt, crying on camera and begging for the return of his beloved children. He’d do anything, he told the media, to have them back. His popularity was off the charts. He’d even thrown his hat into the ring for the presidency.

Layla couldn’t let that happen. The man was evil and twisted, and he’d killed her mother. She vowed to bring him down if it was the last thing she did.

She glanced in the rear-view mirror at her twin siblings. They were so innocent, and she hated the fear they lived in the first nine years of their lives. But they were happy now, and she was thankful for the resilience of youth. She couldn’t help but feel guilty that she hadn’t noticed the signs earlier. If she had, maybe her mother would still be alive.

The last year had put her own life into perspective. She’d bought into the fame and the fast life. She didn’t do drugs or sleep around, but she enjoyed partying with her friends and indulged in the finer things in life. Somewhere in the past few months, she realized they were just things. Her life had been shallow and superficial. She was never caught on camera without her makeup. Now, she rarely wore any.

She missed singing, but she didn’t miss the constant travel, the commitments, or loss of privacy. Paparazzi camped out in the trees outside her house, hoping to snap pictures of her. She’d had one follow her to the gynecologist and pose as a nurse. Thankfully, she’d been caught before any photos could be taken. When the ordeal was over and Mullins was behind bars, she’d figure out how to resume her career while leading a normal life. She was now responsible for her siblings. Life on the road was no way for them to grow up. They needed stability, and she’d find a way to give it to them.

She was homeschooling Tiff and Sean, and they were both incredibly bright. They hated the private school Mullins insisted they attend, so she wasn’t sorry they were away from it, but she didn’t want to wait much longer to get them back into a structured learning environment to nurture their intellect.

As far as taking Mullins down, she didn’t have a plan beyond trying to speak with Mr. Mylonas of COBRA Securities. She was tired of running and constantly looking over their shoulders. It’d only been a year, but she didn’t want Sean and Tiff to live their lives on the run.

Now that she couldn’t get in touch with Henry, she was in panic mode. She didn’t have the strength or resources to go it alone. Yesterday, before they left for the city, her Henry cell rang. She’d been so happy when she picked up, chastising him for not getting in touch sooner, but her words were met with silence. She sensed someone was on the phone, but they weren’t talking. She hung up, assuming it was the wrong number.

The house they were renting now was small—it would easily fit into her Malibu home closet—but it met their needs. The widowed woman who owned the home was sweet and kind, and she didn’t ask for references, thank goodness. She assumed Layla was running from an abusive husband, and Layla didn’t bother to correct her. She paid in cash and even took bags of groceries when she dropped off the money. Mrs. Craig knew that two children lived in the house, but she thought they were Layla’s kids, and Layla made sure that she never saw them. The story of their disappearance had dominated the news and still made headlines with Mullins’ presidential aspirations. Their pictures had been widely circulated. Layla had altered their appearance, changing the color and length of their hair, but she still worried someone might recognize them.

She’d essentially turned the vibrant, energetic kids into hermits, and she hated it. They never complained, and they were grateful to her. They looked at the ordeal as an adventure. She wished she could see it that way too. Instead, all she felt was a sense of impending doom.

Layla decided she’d pack their meager belongings when they headed to Indiana. They traveled light in case they needed to flee. The only items left in the house were some clothes and a few groceries, toiletries, and household items they’d picked up at a discount store. Layla also kept a safe hidden in the back of the closet in her bedroom. It contained all the music she’d written in the last year. She made sure names weren’t on anything so it couldn’t be traced back to her. A bonus of the house was an old upright piano, and she’d spent so many hours writing music. She had enough material for four albums. It was some of her best work to date.

They’d been at this residence for a couple of months, so it was time to move on. They tried not to stay in one place too long. Mrs. Craig allowed them to rent weekly. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long for her to find a new tenant.

Layla signaled for the off-ramp and navigated the curving roads to the sleepy town nestled in the foothills. As she turned down their street, she had the overwhelming sensation that something wasn’t right.

Look! Tiff yelled, leaning forward to point out the windshield.

An ominous black cloud rose high into the air. She glanced in her rear-view mirror to see a wall of flashing lights. The wail of sirens was piercing as she pulled to the curb to let the fire trucks pass. As soon as they whizzed by, she eased back out and followed. When she came upon two police cruisers angled to prevent cars from proceeding further, her stomach dropped.

The cute little cottage house they rented at the end of a cul-de-sac was completely engulfed in flames.

Chapter One

Luke Colton faked left and then dribbled around Ethan Addison, trying to find an open lane to the hoop. When Sawyer Oldham blocked his path, he looked to pass the ball, but the defense blanketed his teammates. Kayla Hepburn crowded close and wiggled her fingers at his eyes. She was a lethal weapon—a fierce warrior packaged inside a gorgeous face and killer body. He feigned a shot to get Kayla off her feet, and when he realized her momentum would send her crashing into him, he let the rock fly as he fell backward. His hands eased the impact as he hit the floor, and then Kayla landed on top of him. She tried to block his view of the hoop. He ignored the stab of pain in his palms and twisted enough to watch as the ball sailed through the net. With a whoop, Luke thrust his arms in the air. That’s three points, baby!

And a foul, Dan Bradley tacked on as he jogged over and playfully knocked Kayla aside to help Luke to his feet. Then his chivalry kicked in, and he graciously helped Kayla up, ignoring her pout. He hits this, and the game’s ours. Dan gyrated his version of a victory dance. Kayla stuck out her tongue.

Wyatt Hollister scoffed and yelled, No way he’ll hit it. His free throw percentage is so low, it needs life support.

Luke narrowed his eyes at the blond Aussie.

Uh, sorry, boss?

Luke chuckled. Their weekly pick-up games were intense and competitive. None of them liked to lose. His coworkers were comfortable enough to talk trash to the bosses, showing that he and Logan fostered a working environment that was both friendly and comfortable. Still, he didn’t like to have his ability questioned. And his free-throw percentage was damn impressive if he did say so himself.

Dan’s older brother and Luke’s business partner, Logan Bradley, brushed by Luke and whispered, I sure hope your head’s in the game and not someplace else, say New York City, with a certain troubled beauty.

Luke shouldered Logan out of the way, and the other man laughed. This week, they were on opposing teams, and neither wanted to be on the losing squad. They were both intensively competitive. But damn it, his taunting worked because now all Luke could think about was that troubled beauty. He suddenly regretted confiding in his best friend. It’d been almost a month since the encounter with the mystery woman, and he still couldn’t get her face out of his mind. Maybe it was guilt for not following her. She was obviously frightened, and he’d let her take off on her own, watching as she disappeared down the street. It went against everything he stood for. Maybe that’s why she took up so much space in his head.

Luke dribbled the ball to the free-throw line. He tried to shake off the images from his mind but failed miserably. He needed this point—a rare four-point play—to clinch the game. The opposing team heckled him mercilessly. Kayla brushed against him as she sashayed to the line. He took a deep breath and tuned everything else out. Focus. He dribbled once, twice, and then let the ball fly, his arms frozen in the air. The trajectory looked a bit short. It hit the top of the rim and bounced high in the air. All gazes were locked on the round orb as it sailed up, stopped, and then descended in slow motion—or it felt that way to Luke—and then sunk through the nylon. Free throw good. Game won!

His teammates mobbed him as they celebrated the victory. He smiled and high-fived with them, but his heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t get that beautiful, scared face out of his mind.

#

Layla paced in the cramped motel room, her cell clutched in her hand. She needed to call Mrs. Craig to find out if the firefighters had recovered anything from the house, but she kept putting it off. It’d been a month since flames destroyed the home they’d been renting. Thankfully, nothing