Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3) Read online

  Perilous Games

  Gray Tower Series Book Three

  J. M. Brister

  Book Title Copyright © 2019 by J. M. Brister. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by The Cover Collection

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

  J. M. Brister

  Visit my website at http://jmbrister.blogspot.com

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing: December 2019

  Name of Company

  ISBN 9781696936507

  Dedication

  To Katherine, the light of my life…

  Gray Tower Series

  Dark Prison

  Troubled Paradise

  Perilous Games

  Special Thanks

  To Michael –For sticking with me through thick and thin.

  To Katherine – The best daughter ever.

  My family for encouraging me to keep going.

  My Twitter besties for the support you’ve given me all these months.

  Jack, Rygel, and Dixie for comforting me when I needed it.

  All the people who have read my books. You guys rock!

  Trigger Warning

  There is a small part of this book that contains a scene that some victims of sexual abuse may have issues with. I have tried to make it as limiting in scope and detail as possible. Please proceed with caution if you feel you may be triggered by such a scene.

  CONTENTS

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Interlude

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Four Years Ago

  The light of a cellphone glowed in a dark room. It was late, and Ashlen Cole was lying in her soft, comfortable bed, desperately trying to get ahold of her fiancé, Paul. He was supposed to text her before he went to bed. Why hadn’t he messaged her yet? This was uncharacteristic of him.

  Ashlen stretched out and yawned, trying not to get worried or upset. There was a very good possibility that his phone had died. It happened, right?

  Paul Anderson was a cop in Cincinnati. He was six years older than Ashlen, who was a senior in college, studying English. She was still determining whether she wanted to focus on a literary career, perhaps as an agent or editor, or if she wanted to move on to law school. Only time would tell.

  They had met when Ashlen had reported domestic violence for her neighbor next door to the house she rented off-campus. Paul had responded, and after getting her statement, he had slipped her his card.

  He was a handsome guy and had a lot of charisma, so Ashlen had called him back. The rest of it was history.

  Things between them had quickly escalated, and suddenly, Ashlen had found herself engaged to the most wonderful and sweet guy she had ever known. Yeah, she wasn’t quite out of college, but she also wasn’t stupid. Paul was the love of her life, and she wanted to be with him forever.

  Though he had his flaws, she felt like he was perfect for her. He was kind and sensitive as well as loyal. That was her favorite thing about him—his loyalty to her. No matter what, she knew she didn’t have to worry about him with anyone else.

  She sighed.

  That did not mean that she didn’t get anxious when he went out on duty or when he didn’t answer his freaking phone. She supposed that was what happened when one was engaged to a cop.

  Tonight, she was worried. It was probably nothing after all. Paul was having a guy’s night out. He rarely went out and spent most of his time with her, so she was glad that he got to go out with his buddies.

  Ashlen would have spent some time going through homework, but she was caught up on her readings for school, which felt like a first. She was overloaded with classes right now, but she wanted to graduate on time. To do that, she had to take full loads every semester, plus summer school.

  Now, she had nothing to do but be bored in bed. It was after midnight, but she wasn’t tired. She also didn’t feel like putting in a movie, and she definitely didn’t want to read anything. Sometimes her eyes hurt from how much reading she had to do for her English major.

  Ashlen turned on her phone again—just in case Paul had texted. She was disappointed to find there was still nothing.

  Shaking her head, she was about to turn in for the night when her phone lit up.

  Paul! She thought, automatically answering it before noticing the caller I.D.

  “Hey, sweetie! I hope I’m not calling too late,” said the male voice on the other end of the line.

  Unfortunately, it was not Paul.

  “Hey, Uncle Pete,” Ashlen replied, a bit deflated.

  Sure, it wasn’t the person she had wanted, but she wasn’t going to be rude to her uncle. Besides Paul, he was the only family that she had left after her parents had died.

  Her uncle, Peter Cole, was her father’s brother. When her parents had been killed in a terrible car crash when she was sixteen, her Uncle Peter had picked up from there and had stepped in, helping her through the last years of high school and college. He was a sweet man, almost like a father in some ways.

  She had Uncle Pete to thank for putting her through college—debt-free—and giving her the money to live off-campus so that she could concentrate on her studies. He had been incredibly generous with her, and she could never repay him for his kindness.

  Uncle Pete had made a lot of money over the years. He was an astute businessman, and he certainly knew how to hustle. However, he was known for making some pretty crazy deals that she wished he wouldn’t make.

  The problem with her uncle was that he was always messing around with nefarious dealings. Ashlen still could not figure out what he did as a businessman, but from what she could gather, some of it was not entirely legal. She could remember a few times in high school and college that he had to lay low for a while. He would eventually emerge more triumphant than ever and living larger than ever.

  Ashlen hated that he lived like that, but she still loved him, even if he could be a bit of a slimeball in his professional life.

  “So, what’s going on?” She asked casually.

  “I just wanted to check in with you. See how you’re doing and all.”

  “That’s very sweet of you. I’m doing alright.”

  That was mostly the truth. Overall, her life was doing well, though she was still nervous about Paul. She had very much been hoping that the phone call was from him.

  “How
are you doing?” She asked.

  That question could open a can of worms, depending on what her uncle had gotten himself into at the time.

  “Oh, the usual,” he said. “Hey, listen, this might be the last chance I get to call you in a while. I made sure your rent was paid up—just FYI.”

  Ashlen shook her head.

  “What did you do now? You’ve got to stop playing these games, Uncle Pete. You’re going to end up losing one of these days.”

  “Not yet, though.”

  “You do realize that my fiancé is a cop, right?” She asked, teasing.

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny, kid. But seriously, I’m short on capital, and the people I owe to haven’t been very friendly toward me. I should have it soon, though. Don’t worry about me.”

  Ashlen sighed, wishing her uncle would just stop whatever the heck he was doing and find employment in something that wasn’t illegal—or at least questionable.

  “Didn’t you go to school with some guy who’s a billionaire? Can’t you just borrow some money there?”

  “Yeah, but I want to keep that option open for another time. As I said, I’ll get the money. No worries there.”

  Ashlen did tend to worry about her uncle, but she had Paul on her mind right now. She didn’t have time to think about the mess Uncle Pete was getting himself into right now.

  “Okay, well,” she began. “I’m expecting an important call. Is there anything else?”

  “Nope. I just wanted to touch base. I’ll leave you alone. It’s late anyhow. Goodnight, Ashlen.”

  “Goodnight.”

  When Ashlen hung up the phone, she realized how tired she was. Perhaps she should stop worrying about Paul and get some sleep? She was sure that she’d hear something from him by tomorrow morning, especially if he was having issues with his phone.

  Ashlen fell into a troubled sleep after that. She kept waking up every few hours during the night to check her phone—just in case. However, Paul still hadn’t texted or called.

  She was starting to get worried.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Sun was streaming through the cracks of the curtains of Ashlen’s bedroom when her eyes popped open. She hadn’t gotten a ton of sleep last night; she had been too worried about Paul.

  Paul.

  She sat up straight and looked at her phone. There was still nothing. What in the world was going on? He said that he would message her. He had promised, and Paul never went back on his word.

  Ashlen tried calling him, but it went to voicemail. Now, she was really starting to get worried.

  Checking the clock, she realized that it was already nine in the morning. Of course, that was early for most college students, but she liked getting up to work out and whatnot. She decided that she would do some yoga and then shower. Afterward, she would try calling Paul again.

  There was a good chance that he had had a long night with his buddies and may have been too drunk to call. She knew he wasn’t back on duty until tonight, so she wasn’t going to panic yet.

  Ashlen’s workout wasn’t nearly as peaceful as she had wanted. Her shower wasn’t either. Afterward, she immediately dashed for her phone and redialed Paul’s number.

  Nothing.

  What the heck was going on?

  She was about to text one of Paul’s friends when there was a knock at her back door. This was the door that led to the gravel parking spaces behind the house, so it was almost always someone who knew her. Perhaps it was Paul?

  Her heart leaped as she dashed from her living room to the back door. She checked the peephole to see Paul standing there.

  Yay! She thought as she undid the locks. He is okay.

  When she opened the door, she immediately jumped in and hugged him. He stiffened before he finally hugged back. Strange.

  “I was so worried,” she told him. “What happened? Did your phone break or something?”

  “Uh, no,” Paul said. “Hey, can I come in for a bit?”

  “Of course, you can. Come on in.”

  It was only then that Ashlen noticed how disheveled Paul looked. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was a mess. There was that “I’m hungover” look going on with him. She might have even laughed and teased him, except the expression on his face told her otherwise.

  He looked haunted.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” Paul asked, pointing to the well-worn couch in the living room.

  Ashlen considered it “college furniture.” Those were pieces that she had found here and there that didn’t cost that much—or anything at all. She would hopefully not be keeping much of it after she graduated and got a job.

  As they sat down, a pit began to form in her stomach as she eyed Paul. He never acted like this; he was usually a pretty happy guy. What was wrong?

  He stared at her, brown eyes appearing mournful. She sniffed and smelled a faint scent of booze. He wasn’t still drunk, was he?

  “Paul, what’s wrong?” She asked, concerned.

  He was never like this.

  Never.

  “Ashlen, look…” he said, trailing off.

  “Please, just tell me, Paul.”

  Then, a terrible thought hit her. What if he was breaking up with her? What if he was calling off the engagement? The look in his eye said that he was about to reveal something terrible.

  “You’re not breaking up with me?” She asked, her voice shaking.

  “No, but when I tell you…” He said, his voice choked with emotion.

  A pit formed in Ashlen’s stomach. She just knew that she wouldn’t like what he was going to tell her.

  “Please, just tell me,” she whispered.

  “I slept with someone last night.”

  The statement echoed in Ashlen’s ears. It took her a few moments to even process what he had just said.

  No, she thought in horror. No, no, no! What had he done?

  “You’re joking, right?” She asked, feeling tears start to prick her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Ash. It happened.”

  Shock, anger, and hurt flowed through her in rapid succession, followed by numbness. How could this have happened? Didn’t he love her? Wasn’t she enough for him?

  “Why?” She stuttered. “How?”

  “Picked a girl up from the bar and took her back to my place,” he said bluntly, his words hurting her as he said them.

  Tears began to fall down her face. The way he had said it felt like he hadn’t given a thought about Ashlen.

  “I…I don’t even know what to say,” she said hoarsely.

  “I’m sorry, Ash. I was shitfaced at the time. I don’t even remember a lot of it. I just know that I needed to tell you. When I woke up this morning, the weight of the world came crashing down on me. You deserve better than this.”

  Well, he was certainly right about one thing: She did deserve better than this. Was she going to marry a guy who had cheated on her? Alcohol be damned. He knew what he was doing.

  Hurting deeply inside, she felt herself pulling off her engagement ring. She handed it to Paul who took it, face almost unreadable. It hurt to know that he wasn’t going to fight for her.

  “Get out,” she said in a low voice. “Just…get out.”

  He got up without a word and left, the back-door slamming shut. Meanwhile, Ashlen crumpled into a ball on the couch and began sobbing.

  Chapter 1

  Four Years Later

  Ashlen Cole wearily unlocked the front door to her three-bedroom ranch and threw down her keys and purse on the entryway table. She was unbelievably tired. She had just wasted two hours of her life reporting for her blog on a speed dating event in downtown Cincinnati. As much as she liked going to social events, Ashlen could honestly count it as one of the worst experiences of her life.

  Single in Cincy, which had once been a pet project of Ashlen’s that started during her senior year of college, had grown from a personal blog to a full-time career. She made a v
ery comfortable living from the advertisers who supplied her blog with revenue.

  It had been syndicated to a few large newspapers around the country, but who was counting? Ashlen was proud that she was self-employed at the age of twenty-six, and even after four years of busting her butt to find material that her readers would enjoy, she was still happy to be the one solely responsible for her livelihood.

  Of course, she would gladly give up blogging if she could find that perfect man. Ironically, after years of searching full-time for a man, she had come up empty. Miss Single in Cincy would so very happily find other means to live if she could find someone worth it.

  Unfortunately, her readers demanded that she cover a few things that Ashlen personally found revolting, one of which had been speed dating. Her readers had practically been begging that she go to a speed dating event. It had been the one place she had refused to go since she had started the blog.

  However, material had been hard to come by recently, and she needed to keep her website hits up for her online sponsors. So, she had bitten the bullet and drove herself all the way downtown to her impending doom.

  During the event, she had run into the most stereotypical men she could find. She was already working up ideas for her next blog:

  Exhibit A—The loser. No job. Still lives with Mom and Dad. She had been sympathetic to a point because of the economy, but when all he could talk about was online computer games, she decided he was worth a pass. Plus, his hair was really greasy.

  Exhibit B—The douchebag. He’s pretty good looking, but he has the attitude of a frat boy. A date with him comes with the expectation that she put out by the end of the night.

  Exhibit C—The workaholic. He’s cute. He’s handsome. He even has a decent job. But the job is more important than anything else in his life, which is why he only has time for speed dating.

  Exhibit D—The weirdo. Weird hair. Weird clothes. What the hell?