Rendered (Irrevocable Series Book 1) Read online

  RENDERED

  Book 1 in the Irrevocable Series

  Samantha Jacobey

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. In the Beginning

  2. A Whole New World

  3. Black and White

  4. Prom Queen

  5. Secret Lives

  6. On with the Show

  7. Biding Time

  8. Like Yesterday

  9. The Truth Within

  10. A Fine Mess

  11. No Place Like Home

  12. Poker Face

  13. Keeper

  14. Walk the Line

  15. Wish in One Hand

  16. No Way Out

  17. Home on the Range

  18. New Girl in Town

  19. Jealous Much?

  20. Heads or Tails

  21. The Meek

  22. Love Thyself

  23. Maid of Honor

  24. No One Else

  25. Appearances

  26. Land of the Free

  27. Tell Me Everything

  28. Rendered

  RECOMBINED

  Maps

  Flowcharts

  About the Author

  Other works by Samantha Jacobey

  Also From The Lavish Family

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  RENDERED. Copyright 2015 ©

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Lavish Publishing, LLC.

  First Edition

  Book 1 of Irrevocable Series

  All Rights Reserved

  Published in the United States by Lavish Publishing, LLC, Midland, Texas

  Cover Design by: OliviaProDesign

  Cover Images: depositphotos.com

  Paperback ISBN

  ISBN 10: 0692420797

  ISBN 13: 978-0692420799

  www.LavishPublishing.com

  For my mother, Linda. Without her, much of this tale could not, or would not, have been written. Thank you for our family, which has taught me what crazy really means…

  Prologue

  “I just can’t believe it.” Pamela smiled across the table at her husband, reaching for him affectionately.

  “You can’t?” Lewis Dewitt grinned, entwining his fingers with hers. “Twenty years and you still take my breath away.” Rubbing the back of her hand with a restless thumb, his thoughts grew distant, filled with the memory of the day they met. His voice softened. “Did you ever think we would make it this far?”

  “Not a chance.” She gave him a quick squeeze before withdrawing her digits, and the waiter placed their steaming plates before them. “Wow, this looks delicious.” Using her fork, she inspected the vegetables and began cutting her steak with the oversized knife.

  “You didn’t think we were made for each other?” he quibbled, adjusting his napkin and preparing to devour his own.

  “Of course not.” She flicked her soft blue eyes at him. “But you were so persistent. At least we had the sense to finish college before we married and then waited three more years before Bailey was born.”

  “Right.” He nodded between bites. “Our baby girl is growing up, Pam. She’ll be a senior next year, and then she’s off to college. We should do everything we can to spend time with her before she goes.”

  His wife laughed gently at the suggestion. “She doesn’t really have time for us anymore, honey. You know, with all those Advanced Placement Courses and cheerleading. God forbid she gets a boyfriend.” She inhaled a long breath through her nose, exhaling it through a relaxed jaw. “I try not to think about it, and I take what time I can get.”

  “Yes,” he agreed quickly, sorry he had put a damper on the mood with his observation. “Don’t worry. She’ll still have time for us. And maybe she’ll follow our lead and wait until she’s old enough to appreciate certain things before she starts getting involved in any relationships. You know, she has a good head on her shoulders. Takes after you.”

  His wife grinned at the compliment. “She takes after both of us. It’s those boys that are going to be trouble. I swear, if I had known what a handful they would be, I might have passed on the fertility doctor!”

  “Oh, stop it,” Lewis chided. “You love those boys, hot mess and all. Besides, they’re half grown as well, and then it’ll be the two of us. About the time that Bailey starts to give us some grandkids to dote over, I should think.”

  Pamela blinked at him for a moment. “You just gave me the craziest swarm of butterflies! I don’t even want to think about grand babies yet, much less about the boys growing up.” It had been a long road with Jase and Jess, and although they were nine years old, it was hard not to think of them as small and delicate, the way they had started out in life.

  The skin around Lewis’ brown orbs crinkled with his smile. “It’s ok, babe. We’ve got twenty years in tonight, and what…another forty to go?”

  “You bet we do.” She raised her glass of wine as a toast. “To the man I wasn’t supposed to marry and thank God every day that I did. May we do this again in another twenty years!” Her mate raised his own crystal, allowing them to touch with a soft tinkle before he swallowed the delicious libation and returned it to the fine linen cloth that covered the table.

  One

  In the Beginning

  Bailey lay staring at the ceiling, listening intently. A moment later, she heard the loud banging again, followed by the ring of the doorbell in a string of peals. What the hell? Rolling over enough to see her clock, she noted the time—one thirty-six. Watching it, the last number flicked to a seven while the ruckus continued, and she decided maybe her parents couldn’t hear the racket.

  “Hard to believe that,” she grumbled to herself. Sliding out of the bed, she pulled on her favorite fluffy housecoat and fumbled her way into the hall. Making her way down the stairs, she stretched and yawned, wrapping the gown more tightly before she opened the wide wooden covering. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she shrieked before catching her breath at the sight of the men before her.

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” the officer spoke through pursed lips. “Is this the Dewitt residence?”

  “Yes, it is.” Bailey could feel her heart in her throat. “My parents must not have heard you. Give me a minute, and I’ll get them.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the other uniformed visitor, Olsen by his name tag, offered quickly. “May we come in?”

  A sick feeling of mild panic crept up her spine as she pushed at her long auburn hair. “Sure, this way.” She indicated the sitting room to her left. Her mind turning, she debated whether or not the two men were actually cops or if she had let a pair of murderers into her home.

  Removing his hat, Officer Olsen ran his fingers through his dark curls. “When was the last time you saw your parents, Miss Dewitt?”

  “Last night,” she replied coolly, curling her toes nervously inside her soft slippers. “It was their anniversary, and I watched the boys so they could go out.” Surely they don’t suspect my parents of anything! She mentally struggled to get a grip on her scattered th
oughts. And I’m sure they don’t interrogate people in the middle of the night in their bath robe, either.

  Lifting a finger to graze the edge of a silver photo frame, he nodded. “I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re here to inform you of an accident. A few minutes before midnight, a semi took out a black BMW over on Clayton Hill. Crossed the line in a curve and both the truck and the car tumbled to the bottom of the canyon. I truly am sorry.”

  The girl stared at him with wide green eyes, her face like fine porcelain, frozen for an instant before it cracked. “That can’t be,” she stammered. “My parents are here. The boys and I went to bed hours ago, and my parents came home. I’ll show you!” she called over her shoulder, making a dash for the staircase.

  Reaching the second-floor landing, “Mom!” her voice cried loudly, and her hands shook as she flung open the master suite’s door. “Dad!” Inside the room, she stopped short, her robe hanging open and allowing the cool air to wash over her body. Before her, the bed lay empty and hadn’t been touched.

  Shaking her head, hot tears began to streak down her face. “NO, NO, this isn’t right!” Hearing the floor creak, she spun around to face the two men, who had followed closely behind her.

  Raising a hand to grasp her shoulder, Olsen gave her a squeeze. “We need to call someone, a relative or friend of the family, who can come over.”

  Her fingers trembling, she covered her face. “Yes,” she sobbed her agreement. “I’ll call my grandmother. She’ll know what to do.”

  Her hand trailing the banister on the way down, Bailey made her way to her parents’ home office, to the right of the entrance. Inside her mother’s desk, she would find the small brown address book that contained all the important information for both clients and family, her mother’s backup in case anything ever happened to her cellphone.

  Standing in the foyer, the two men allowed the girl to make the call, her voice quavering while she asked the woman to come over quickly. At being questioned, the girl gave a simple and non-committal reply, “There’s been an accident, Nanna. We need you here as quickly as you can come.”

  Unable to bring herself to say more, Bailey pushed the button to end the call. She returned the house phone to the little pedestal and blinked at the glowing light that indicated it had been seated correctly.

  Hovering by the front entrance, Olsen watched the girl adjust her robe and reach for tissues. She kept her back to him, her shoulders rounded and hunched. After a moment, he called out softly, “We should move to the other room. We can sit in the living area so we can hear the door and wait.”

  Moving to comply, Bailey made her way across the hall, her slippers sliding smoothly on the polished hardwood. Perched on the front edge of the sofa, she sat up straight, her eyes darting around at the formal furnishings. Her heart pounded anxiously against her ribs, and her palms tingled. She felt odd and recalled, I’ve never sat on this couch before.

  The girl rocked slightly, back and forth, considering her mother’s rules and procedures. The children were not permitted in the front living room—or pretty much anywhere in the house for that matter. A playroom had been constructed on the back side, off of the kitchen, when the boys were born. That was theirs, that and their bedrooms. Everything else is off limits.

  Staring at the large clock above the fireplace, she watched the minutes tick by. Her tears had stopped, and aside from the occasional sniffle, it was impossible to tell she had ever been upset. Squeezing the tissue in her palm, she waited, unsure how she would break the news to her mother’s mother. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to.

  When the bell sounded, Officer Olsen moved to allow the elderly woman inside and explained the situation to her. Bailey could hear the commotion as her grandmother bellowed, an odd sound really, as they were not a family accustomed to such displays of emotion.

  Standing, Bailey held out her arms, relieved that someone else was there—someone besides the two stiff policemen, who could do nothing but bear bad news. Nanna will fix this, she reassured herself as she clung to the frail body. She’ll know what to do.

  It isn’t fair, Bailey thought to herself while sitting in the bay window of the breakfast nook the day after her parents’ funeral. Blinking back tears, she reached up to trace a drop of moisture while it ran down the pane. It had been raining almost non-stop since the morning the police had brought their dark tidings. Exhaling a deep sigh, she pulled her knees up to lean on.

  “Why can’t we stay here?” she demanded bitterly, no longer afraid of upsetting her grandmother. “If you don’t want to let us live with you and Gramps?”

  “Because you’re only sixteen years old,” her grandmother countered firmly.

  The girl didn’t take her eyes off of the glass and the garden beyond. It’ll be blooming in a few weeks, she pouted slightly. “This is our home, Nanna. And I’ll be seventeen in two months.” She could hear the disgruntled noise behind her and tried a different track. “Either way, you should let us go and live with you if we can’t live here anymore,” she implored. “Please.”

  “In the retirement community?” her grandmother quipped. “Our little apartment only has two bedrooms, and you know this. Besides, we’ve done our part, raising your mother and her brother. It’s our time to rest and enjoy our old age.”

  Old age, Bailey scoffed, then dropped her legs and twisted on the seat, watching the grey hair move about in their kitchen. Her eyes narrowed at the way her uncle was referred to as your mother’s brother regularly. “You don’t even like Uncle Peter. No one does. Why would you make us go and live with him?”

  “Because your father didn’t have any relatives even remotely able to take you. Peter is young, he has a good job, and he can support you.”

  “And his wife died, and he doesn’t have any kids of his own,” Bailey insisted. “Don’t you think he’s going to be unhappy if you force us on him? Besides, he’s older than mom was, and therefore not young.”

  Sipping from her ceramic mug, the elderly woman remained calm, a small smile teasing her lips. “Such is life, my child.”

  Hearing the doorbell at the front of the house, Bailey cringed. The boys were the first ones there, chattering loudly at the arrival of their favorite, and only, uncle.

  She wasn’t sure what she had expected, having not seen her relative in over a decade, but whatever it had been, this wasn’t it. Her jaw hanging open slightly, she managed to clamp it shut as the tall, sandy-haired man made his way into the room, the twins badgering him every step of the way.

  “Well, if it isn’t little Bailey looking all grown up!” He smiled brightly at her while she ignored the comment and turned back to the rain with another sigh, curling her legs beneath her.

  Peter Mason was a slender man, a few years over fifty, with shaggy curls that held only the slightest hint of grey. An ex-marine, he was still in excellent health, with toned muscles and flat abs beneath his shirt and leather jacket. “I missed you the last time I was here,” he called out to her, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Something about summer camp.”

  “That was ages ago,” the girl replied without moving. “I see the boys remember you.”

  He laughed at her observation, shooing the pair out of the room with the promise of coming up stairs shortly. Making an excuse, his mother followed them, leaving uncle and niece to get reacquainted.

  “No, they really don’t,” he replied. “They were only two last time I was here, but that’s ok. At least they’re excited.” He took a seat at the table, facing the girl. “I really am sorry, Bailey. I know things aren’t working out the way you would’ve liked.”

  She swung her legs off the bench to sit up straight and glare at him. “Not working out? How could my parents dying suddenly possibly be anything less than perfect?” she demanded coldly.

  Pete’s jaw dropped slightly, rocking side to side. “You get that from your mother, you know. It’s what made her such a damn good attorney.”

  “What?” the girl practically screamed.<
br />
  “Your tough as nails attitude.” He smiled genuinely. “When we get back to Texas and settled in, you an’ me are gonna be great friends. I can tell.” He sipped his brew calmly, waiting to see if she would bite.

  Blowing out a disgusted breath, the girl didn’t engage. Instead, she stood and stomped noisily out of the room and up the stairs. Taking care to make as much racket as possible, she punctuated the move by slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  I’m not going to Texas, she promised herself silently. Flinging her body across the bed, she managed to hide in her private space until it had grown dark outside, and she was no longer able to ignore the angry rumble in her gut.

  Making her way back down to the kitchen, she discovered the rest of her family, such as it was, gathered at the table and eating pizza. Looking around, she sniffed noisily, then poured herself a glass of soda. “Where’s Nanna?” she finally huffed, grabbing a paper plate.

  “She went home,” Jess eagerly volunteered.

  Shifting her glare to her uncle, Bailey could feel the flush rising in her neck. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” Pete shook his head slightly, biting off of a fresh slice. “We’ll pack each of you a suitcase either tonight or in the morning. Our plane leaves O’Hare at eleven o’clock, so there won’t be any need to rush.”