Covet Read online

  Candy Girl

  Eve Vaughn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All trademarks, service marks, registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Covet

  Copyright © 2020 Eve Vaughn

  Electronic book publication July 2020

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means without permission from the author, Eve Vaughn.

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  Dedication

  To my readers, thank you so much for supporting me, and keeping me going. Your continued support means a lot to me. I’d also like to share a special thanks to Wanda, Crystal and Carmen for getting me through some rough times. Love you guys.

  Prologue

  Nick

  “Ashes to ashes…dust to dust…” With each pause, the Reverend tossed clumps of dirt over the intricately designed coffin as it was dramatically lowered into the ground.

  My mother’s arms, which are wrapped around my waist, tighten as her sobs became louder. Her tears stain my black silk tie. My body was on autopilot as I pulled her closer into me, offering the comfort she so desperately needed—I so desperately need but can’t express because I have to be strong for her. As cliché as it sounds, the weather is perfect for this occasion. The sky is gray and full of fat clouds that are threatening to burst at any moment. The mourners clutch their umbrellas close in anticipation.

  My little brother was dead, and all I can think about is her.

  I should have been sad, miserable, or whatever emotion an occasion like this called for, yet all that coursed through me was a numbness that had taken over to the point where I didn’t feel a damn thing.

  I stole a glance to my left where the stone-faced widow stood. There were no tears, no look of pain or even the passing façade of remorse. Some people would say she’s stoic, but I knew the truth.

  She’s a heartless bitch who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but herself. And I hate that she is able to stand over my brother’s grave so unaffected and detached as if my mother isn’t literally falling apart right in front of everyone’s eyes. The subtle whispers around me carry in the wind, saying how enduring she is, so brave…so strong.

  Bullshit!

  If I had my way, there’d be two funerals today because I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around that slender neck of hers. To my secret shame that I will admit to no one there were other things I wanted to do to her with my hands, things that would probably make my mother disown me.

  Once the sermon was complete, the crowd disbursed quickly as droplets of moisture fell from the sky. The Reverend strode over to me and my mother with his hands held out. “Mrs. Evans, I hope my sermon was of some comfort to you. Bea and I will keep your family in our thoughts and prayers.

  My mother, Alice, sniffs as tears stream down her face. “Thank you Reverend. That really means a lot to us. Will you be joining us at the repast?”

  A smile forms on Reverend Brown’s lips. “Normally, I would accept your gracious invitation, but I unfortunately have another ceremony to perform in an hour. I will be in touch to check in on you. May the Lord hold you and keep you.” He shakes my mother’s hands in a comforting gesture before giving me a pat on the shoulder and heading over to the woman who’d captured my attention for most of the service.

  “Mrs. E—”

  She shakes her head abruptly making the fluffy curls crowning her dark face bounce. “Please, call me Frankie.”

  The Reverend paused for a moment, seeming to be taken aback by the vehemence in which she asserted that request, almost as if she were trying to destroy any connection she had to my brother. “Of course...Frankie, I’m terribly sorry for your loss, and if there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

  “Thank you.” Frankie didn’t bother making eye contact with the clergyman. Instead, her dark brown gaze rested firmly on the casket which the grave workers had now started to shovel dirt over. By now droplets of water began to come down in a slow trickle, hitting her face as if she were shedding actual tears.

  I wasn’t sure what was running through her mind, but I had a pretty good idea. She was probably thinking of all the ways she could spend my brother’s money, but she had another think coming if she believed I’d let her get away scot-free.

  It was my solemn vow to make that bitch pay for everything she’d done, the pain she caused and ultimately for the death of my brother. Luckily for her, my attention was currently focused on being the supportive son I was expected to be. I needed to get my mother out of the rain before the sting of its spray became more powerful. I hold her tightly against me, and she leans her head against my chest with a sniff.

  “You’re a good son, Nicholas.”

  It’s funny that she would say that now when that hadn’t always been the sentiment she expressed to me. I suppose the expression better late than never applies right now. I know Kenny was her favorite, and I never begrudged him that. But that’s why this day was particularly hard on her. Now it was just me, and I had to be the shoulder she needed to lean on.

  I guided her toward the waiting limo, but she stopped and pulled herself out of my hold with a growl.

  “Mom—”

  “No.” She held up her hand to cut me off. “I’m tired of playing nice while that slut stands there as cool as a cucumber. She killed my little boy!” She screamed the words and all the while, the object of our scorn stands as still as a statue, watching the casket being covered. Either she’s not paying attention to us or she’s doing a damn good job of ignoring the unfolding drama. Either way, it irritated me even more.

  I regained my grip on her shoulders. “Not here. She’s not worth it.”

  When my mother set her mind to something, however, very little could stop her, and it seemed she was hell-bent on having this confrontation. Once again she pulled herself out of my grip and stormed over to Frankie who didn’t bother to acknowledge the angry woman confronting her.

  “Are you happy, you bitch?” Mom’s shrill scream pieced the rustling of the wind as she waved her arms erratically.

  It was only then when Frankie finally turned to face Mom, did I temporarily freeze. Those big brown eyes held the suspicious sheen of tears, and if I weren’t mistaken, I saw the briefest flicker of pain within their depths. With God as my witness, however, I’m quite certain I’m mistaken. Francesca Evans née Robinson is a good actress. There was one time when she would have fooled me but no longer.

  “What? You don’t have anything to say for yourself? You killed my baby! I’m not going to let you get away with it. I swear on my dear Kenny’s grave that I will make you pay for what you did if it’s the last thing I do!”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Frankie replied softly as if my mother didn’t just threaten hellfire and brimstone.

  Obviously this wasn’t the response Mom was expecting which seemed to further anger her. “You’re sorry?” My mother
glared at her adversary with hatred and the fire of a thousand burning suns. If looks could kill, my brother wouldn’t be the only one getting buried today. “Sorry? What the hell is your sorry supposed to do for me when my son is in the damn ground? This is exactly what you wanted, you cold-hearted evil demon! You killed him, and all you can say is you’re sorry?” Mom made a phlegmy sound in the back of her throat before unloading a big ball of spit directly in Frankie’s face.

  Even I was repulsed by my mother’s actions, and actually wouldn’t have faulted Frankie if she were to retaliate. However, she merely wiped her face and turned to walk away.

  My mother clenched her fists at her side, and it seemed as if she were contemplating whether to chase after Frankie, but I made the decision for her. I wrapped my arms around her, tightly, ensuring that she wouldn’t escape my grasp. This day had already taken a toll on us all. There was no need to escalate things further. At least for now, anyway.

  “She’s not worth it. Leave it be. Besides, we have to get back to the house for the repast.”

  My mother continued to struggle in my arms as hysteria seemed to take over her. She shot a narrowed-eye stare at Frankie’s retreating figure. “And don’t you dare show up at my house! You’re not welcome! Do you hear me, you murderous bitch? If you step one foot on my property, I will shoot you dead, and there’s not a single court in this country that would convict me!” Her voice carried loud enough for the few stranglers by the graveside to hear.

  Even the gravediggers momentarily paused from their shoveling to stare in our direction.

  Frankie continued to walk away without missing a beat seemingly unbothered by the damage she’d wrought on my family. Part of me almost felt sorry for her, but then I remembered what she’d done, and anger nearly squeezed my insides so tightly I could barely breathe. I’d handle her later, but first I had to greet the guests who were surely starting to arrive at my mother’s house where the caterers had set up food and drink for well-wishers sending their final condolences.

  Somehow I made it through the rest of the day with little fanfare. Friends and family came to the house for the next few hours sampling the numerous delicacies on display. Casseroles piled up on the kitchen island untouched, brought to us by well-wishers with offers of sympathy and help. Even in her grief my mother wanted a certain aesthetic to be kept. No homemade lemon squares or tuna noodle concoction would mar her perfect catered affair, even if it was just an informal gathering.

  The standard, “please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” was heard numerous times. But I knew as time passed those promises would be forgotten, and the people who uttered them would go on with their lives oblivious to my family’s pain. I didn’t blame them per se, but by the end of the evening the hypocrisy of it all was tiring. Besides, my mother who was normally a formidable woman refused to leave my side, clinging to me as if she depended on me for oxygen. She barely let me out of her sight. Whenever I tried to step away for air, she’d start to shake, and her legs would wobble like a full breakdown was on its way.

  I understood that she was in a highly emotional state, but I also recognized she enjoyed being the center of attention, therefore playing things up a bit. Who was I to judge her while she resided in this highly emotional state? Everyone handles grief differently, so, I indulged her. I can’t imagine how it must feel to bury a child, nor do I wish to find out. Losing a brother was painful enough.

  Finally, after all the guests had left, and we turned in for the night, an unsettling quiet fell over the house. It had been a long day, and in most circumstances, I’d be in bed. Instead, I restlessly paced the room which used to belong to me when I lived here as a child and teenager. It was exactly as I’d left it with the pinup girls from the 90s and posters of my favorite movies.

  My comics, some of which had never been taken out of their cellophane wrappings, were still stacked on the desk I used to do homework on. Being here was like stepping back into time. I glanced at the framed photo on my nightstand. It featured me, Kenny and our sister Robin, taken on the day of her high school graduation. Kenny’s smile was the biggest. He always had a smile on his face, and now he never would again. All because of one greedy whore.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t remain complacent any longer. After changing out of my pajamas I headed downstairs and grabbed my keys making as little noise as possible so as not to awaken my mother.

  It was only when I was behind the wheel of my car, did I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I convinced myself that I was only going for a drive a few times around the block to clear my mind, but that was a fucking lie. It didn’t matter how late it was. I intended to confront the source of my pain, and nothing could stop me.

  I’d only visited Kenny’s house a few times, but I knew my way there by heart. I’d bought it for him as a wedding gift. What a fucking joke.

  Speeding the entire way to my destination, I marveled at the miracle of not getting pulled over by the police. Parking on the side street in front of his house, I wasted no time heading up the path to the front door. Before ringing the bell, I noted the lights were still on, not that it mattered. I’d knock and ring for as long as it took for someone to answer.

  Fuck the doorbell. This situation didn’t call for niceties. I banged on the door hard and loud, letting the occupant know this wasn’t a friendly visit. It didn’t take long for Frankie to answer. Without waiting for an invitation, I pushed passed her.

  “I didn’t say you could come in,” she protested.

  A smile curved my lips, but I felt no humor. I felt nothing besides the boiling rage within the depths of my being. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask.” When I finally gave her a good look my smile fell. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

  She touched her short tight curls in an almost self-conscious gesture. To be quite honest, it didn’t look bad on her at all. I was just shocked. Her hair was one of the first things I noticed about her when we met. It was so big and glorious and nearly touched the sky. It was wild, free and beautiful. This look, however, was more subdued, somber almost, yet she was still one of the loveliest women I’d ever laid eyes on.

  Her skin was a dark brown so smooth and flawless; she didn’t need makeup. High cheekbones and full lips accentuated her proud features, but it was her eyes that drew me in. Hypnotizing eyes. They were a deep shade of brown, not dark or light but a shade that stood out against her rich complexion. She had no right to look like this when my brother’s body was barely cold.

  She wrapped her arms around her body which made me realize what she was wearing, a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. She was either preparing to go to bed or had already been there. It made me wonder if she weren’t wearing a robe on purpose answering the door like this. Was she expecting someone else? A lover perhaps?

  “I’m sure you didn’t come over to critique my haircut. What do you want?” her husky voice cut into my chaotic thoughts.

  Straight to the point. Cute. “I thought I should compliment you on your nice acting job today.”

  Frankie sighed, her full lips parting slightly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’ve come here to insult me, please leave. I’ve had a long day, and I’d like to get some rest.”

  Her need to cling to this mock innocence made my blood boil. “Oh, just drop the act. The stoic widow role you played today may have fooled some people, but I know what you’re really like.”

  She rolled her eyes skyward and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Duly noted. Can you leave now?”

  I clenched my fists at my sides willing myself not to do her bodily harm. The fucked up thing about this entire situation was that despite all she’d done, not to mention she was my brother’s widow, I still wanted her. Torn between strangling her or pulling her into my arms and fucking her raw, I took the only appropriate option available, I lashed out. “Not until I’m damn good and ready. You may think y
ou’ve gotten away with what you’ve done, but you’re sorely mistaken.”

  She raised her chin with a defiant tilt. “And what exactly is it that you believe I’ve done? You’ve come this far. You might as well have the balls to say it out loud instead of throwing out angry innuendos.”

  That did it. “You fucking bitch. So this is the game you want to play? Fine, I’ll say it. You killed my brother, maybe not directly, but if it weren’t for you, he’d still be alive. And I won’t rest until you’ve paid. Everywhere you turn, I’ll be there. There’s nowhere you can run where I won’t find you. I will destroy you until your every waking moment is a nightmare. I will make sure you won’t get any peace of mind for the rest of your miserable life, you evil whore.”

  Besides a slight flinch of her delicate shoulder, Frankie gave no other reaction which incensed me even more. She didn’t have the right to be this unaffected.

  Closing the gap between the two of us I grasped her by the neck and lowered my face until our noses touched. A few more inches and our lips would be touching. The temptation was strong, but my rage was stronger. “Did you fucking hear what I just said?”

  She blinked giving me that stone-faced look I hated. “Every word. If trying to ruin my life makes you feel better, then do your worse. It’s not going to bring Kenny back.”

  I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed. “Don’t you fucking say his name! You don’t have the right! I know it won’t bring him back. I just call this good old fashion revenge. And it’s coming your way.” Her eyes bulged, and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. If I kept squeezing, she’d be dead. It briefly crossed my mind to not let go, but common sense finally took over. I abruptly released my hold on Frankie, sending her stumbling back.

  With one final glare in her direction, I turned and stormed out of the house. It was either that or kill her. And I had something much worse than death in store for her.