Betrayed Read online

  Betrayed

  by

  Sharon C. Cooper

  Copyright © 2020 Sharon C. Cooper

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For permission, contact the author at www.sharoncooper.net.

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  Disclaimer

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

  About Betrayed…

  When secrets turn into lies…

  Former DEA agent Angelo González’s final undercover operation exploded in a betrayal he’ll never forget or forgive. He’s moved on. As one of Atlanta’s Finest, providing personal security for the rich and famous, Angelo is living his best life—until he has to play fake boyfriend to one of their clients. Not just any client. A client who stirs something so sensually intense inside him, he’s not sure he can fake anything.

  Singing sensation Zenobia Westfield’s troubled past and poor judgment, especially with men, nearly destroyed her life. Music saved her, but now her safety is in jeopardy, forcing her to seek personal security. Angelo is more than she expected. Dangerously sexy. Fearless. Attentive. The attraction sizzling between them is impossible to ignore, but her track record with men has her treading lightly.

  When the threat against Zenobia escalates, Angelo will stop at nothing to protect her. But lies and treachery come to the forefront. Will another betrayal destroy their newfound love? Or will Angelo realize in time that Zenobia is a woman worth fighting for?

  Chapter One

  “What part of I’m done don’t you understand?” Angelo González yelled into his cell phone as he paced the length of his living room, his throat tightening as anger clawed through him.

  “Come on, Lo. I know there’s been some bad blood, but—”

  “Bad blood?” Angelo pulled up short near the black leather sofa. “Dude, that’s all you think this is? They tossed my ass in jail even when I told them I was innocent. This is way past bad blood. This is more like they can’t ask me for shit. Ever!”

  His chest heaved, and his breaths came in short spurts as he tried to rein in his temper. Memories of that horrific time in his life bombarded his mind all at once.

  Scandal.

  Death.

  Betrayal.

  No. The Drug Enforcement Administration couldn’t ask him for a damn thing. Just the mention of them had him wanting to ram his fist through a wall. Why couldn’t they just lose his number, and leave him alone?

  “Lo, you know—”

  “Jared, don’t. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind. And if you know what’s good for you, you’d get out while you can. What they did to me, they’ll eventually do to you, because they don’t give a crap about their agents. All they care about is covering their own asses,” Angelo warned his childhood friend, Jared Hudson. They’d grown up together and had joined the DEA around the same time. Now Angelo wanted to spare him the pain he had endured at their hands.

  Silence filled the phone line. Five years had passed since Angelo had been arrested for obstruction of justice, a crime he was wrongfully accused of. He spent a couple of days behind bars until his arraignment. It took weeks for his legal team to get the charges dropped. What made the situation even worse was that the arrest happened right after a raid. A raid where several of his fellow DEA friends lost their lives. A time in his career that still sparked nightmares and anxiety. On top of that loss, Angelo was no closer to determining what exactly had gone wrong that rainy night.

  Then another thought popped into his head. “Why would you guys want someone on the team who you don’t trust?”

  “You know damn well not to lump me into the same category as them. I stood by you from beginning to end,” Jared snapped. “I’m the one who wants you back on the team.”

  Angelo ran his hand through his thick hair as frustration drummed through his veins. Strolling over to the wall-to-wall windows of his two-bedroom apartment, he looked out over Midtown’s skyline in Atlanta. The corner unit on the twentieth floor gave him 180-degree views of the city, and though the place cost him a pretty penny, it was worth every cent.

  But at the moment, the sight wasn’t doing much to taper the disappointment he felt each time he recalled that last year with the DEA. Angelo wasn’t the forgiving type, and the way the agency left him to be the fall guy for the clusterfuck op was unforgivable. But Jared was his boy.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Angelo finally said. His friend had supported him the best he could considering the circumstances. But back then, Angelo had lumped his whole team into the same category—people who betrayed him. Yeah, he could admit to having a problem forgiving folks when they did him wrong, but what they’d done to him was beyond anything he’d ever be able to forget.

  “Just think about it, Lo,” Jared continued, using a nickname that only a few of his friends called him. “This is your chance to nail Rock once and for all.”

  “Taking down Rock is no longer my life’s mission,” Angelo said of Monty Rockwell, a Miami drug lord who the DEA had been trying to get for years. Rock was slippier than a venomous king cobra snake, and no one could ever accuse him of being a fool. The man was always a step ahead of the agency. Like a cornered rodent, he was a master at getting out of tight spots.

  “Just think about it, man. We could really use your expertise.”

  Angelo moved away from the windows and strolled into the all-white, state-of-the art kitchen, one of his favorite rooms in the house. He snatched his keys from the quartz countertop, then headed to the hall closet for his running cap.

  “There’s nothing to think about. I’m not interested.”

  Each time the DEA thought they had enough evidence against Rock, their case would fall apart. Angelo always wondered if there was someone on the inside feeding the drug trafficker information.

  But now it didn’t matter.

  He was done.

  Working at Supreme Security, an agency that provided personal security to a high-end clientele, gave him everything he needed. Good pay. Flexibility. And it was a job with a company he respected. More than all of that, he no longer had to work undercover, a role with the DEA he hated and never wanted to return to.

  “Listen, I gotta bounce,” he said, done with the thirty-minute verbal sparring. “I’m out.”

  Angelo disconnected the call right in the middle of whatever Jared was about to say. When his cell phone rang again, instead of answering, he shoved the device into the pocket of his jogging pants.

  I need to get out of here.

  He only had a few hours before the surprise birthday party that he and some of his co-workers were throwing for Egypt Durand, their executive assistant. She was the backbone of Supreme Security, and he didn’t want to miss her celebration.

  But right now, what he really needed to do was go for a run to ease some of the pent-up energy brought on by that phone call. Anytime anyone mentioned the DEA or Rock, it made his blood boil. Sure, he claimed he was done with both, but Angelo would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be the one to
put Rock behind bars for good.

  “Man, just let it go,” he mumbled to himself, pissed that he had let Jared get under his skin. He stepped out of his apartment and locked the door. Shaking off thoughts of the DEA, Rock, and the fury that usually consumed him whenever he thought about that chapter in his life, was no easy feat.

  By the time Angelo arrived on the ground level, he was wound tighter than a coiled spring, ready to pop at any moment. Shake it off, he thought as he put only one of his earbuds in, a practice he had started whenever he ran outdoors. Though he used music to get into his workouts, he always made sure he was aware of his surroundings. That meant hearing anyone approaching from behind or getting too close. Paranoid? Maybe. Alert? Always.

  Angelo started off at a slow pace. His gym shoes pounded rhythmically against the pavement as “Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop” by Young Gunz played in his ear. Within the first mile of his run, the tension that had settled around his shoulders started to ease. Nothing like a good run to wipe the fog of disappointment and betrayal from the forefront of his mind.

  Picking up the pace, he turned down a treelined street and headed for Piedmont Park. Humming along to the music flowing through the earpiece, it was easy to get lost in the moment.

  Up ahead, a woman whose long, even strides ate up the pavement jogged toward him. Either she was jamming to some music in her head or she had earbuds in that he couldn’t see. The way her shoulders and arms were rocking, it was as if she was having her own private party while getting in a run.

  Runner. Music lover. Tight-ass body.

  A woman after my own heart.

  If her face matched her slammin’ figure, he might have to run alongside of her and get those digits. They were within thirty feet of each other, and the closer she got, the more interested Angelo became. But a dark sedan, barreling around the corner practically on two wheels, snagged his attention.

  Where’s the fire, he thought as the driver flew up the street in his direction. The guy turned his wheels sharply, barely missing two parked cars before screeching to a stop.

  Angelo slowed, jogging in place as unease stirred inside of him. The next few seconds unfolded like something out of an action movie. Two burly guys rolled out of the four-door sedan and rushed toward the woman he’d just been ogling.

  “What the…”

  Shock blasted through Angelo’s veins, thrusting him into action when the men snatched her up. Fear charged through his body, and he took off in a sprint. Her loud, panicked screams crackled through the air, but he stayed focused. He had to get to her.

  The men wrestled with the woman, struggling to hold her as they zigzagged, staggering toward their vehicle. Her arms and legs moved like propellers on a plane as she clawed at their faces. Twisting. Kicking. Punching. Fighting for her life.

  “Help! Help!” she shrieked, trying to pull out of their grasp.

  “Hey!” Angelo yelled when he reached them, catching them all off guard.

  He lunged at the bigger of the two men. Yanking on the collar of the man’s T-shirt, he managed to pull him away from her, but not without the guy swinging at Angelo.

  He dodged the punch and returned one of his own, connecting with the bastard’s nose, then landing one to his ribs. The man cried out in pain, holding his face and his side as he dropped to his knees.

  The woman was no longer screaming, but yelling and still fighting the other thug who was still struggling to get her to the vehicle.

  “Get off of her!”

  Angelo shoved the man hard enough to knock him down. That freed the woman, but in her haste to get away, she stumbled and crashed into Angelo.

  “Whoa,” he said, grabbing her around the waist, trying to keep them both upright as he stumbled back. Her enticing scent of baby powder with a hint of lavender made him weak in the knees and he held her close. His traitorous body tightened as she clung to him, still trying to get her footing.

  Angelo quickly righted them, but over the woman’s shoulder, one of the men charged toward them. He gently spun her out of the way just as the man reached for her. Angelo turned slightly, lifted his leg in a side kick, and planted his foot in the center of the guy’s chest. The impact sent the goon staggering back and bumping into the other thug.

  When Angelo looked at the woman, she was standing on the sidewalk, her hand on her chest. Their gazes locked. Large hazel-brown eyes stared at him. It was as if the earth stopped spinning and nothing moved around them. Intense. Raw. A mind-numbing connection like nothing he had ever experienced seized him.

  Her baseball cap had fallen off in the scuffle giving him an unobstructed view of her stunning face and heart-shaped mouth. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  And then his heart slammed into his chest as realization dawned on him.

  Sonofa…

  “Get her,” one of the guys growled behind him, snagging Angelo’s attention just before strong hands gripped his shoulders.

  Shit!

  He glanced at the woman. “Run! Get out of here!” After a slight hesitation, she took off running.

  Angelo twisted out of the man’s hold, shoving him away in order to grab the other guy before he could run after her.

  Oh, no, you don’t. Angelo yanked him back and leveled the other one with a roundhouse kick. These guys might’ve been resilient, but they were definitely amateurs.

  Who the hell would send amateurs after that woman?

  Chest heaving as he gasped for air, Angelo glanced over his shoulder, glad to see that she was nowhere in sight. But when he turned back to the offenders, a beefy fist slammed into his jaw.

  Damn!

  Pain crashed through his skull, and his head snapped backward, throwing him off balance. But he was able to block the next punch. Lot of good it did, though. The second guy plowed into him, slamming his head into Angelo’s gut, and sending him crashing to the ground with an oomph.

  The back of Angelo’s head whacked the concrete. A sharp pain ricocheted through his skull. Stars flitted in front of his eyes.

  Ah, hell.

  Laid out on the ground, he slammed his eyes closed as agony consumed him. Tires screeched away as voices and people talking at once seem to come out of nowhere.

  Call 911.

  Is he alive?

  Did anyone see what happened?

  No license plates.

  Hey, buddy. Can you hear me?

  Angelo was in too much pain, and didn’t have the strength to open his eyes or respond to anything they asked. He clenched his teeth and willed himself to just breathe through the pain. All the while, in the back of his mind, he hoped Zenobia “Zen” Westfield was long gone.

  Chapter Two

  Don’t stop.

  Keep moving.

  Two more blocks.

  Just two more blocks.

  Overwhelming fear coursed through Zenobia’s veins as she pumped her arms and legs, running as fast as she could get her body to move. She cut across a parking lot, skirting around cars and kicking up gravel as she darted past men working on a driveway. Back on the sidewalk, she pushed herself harder. Her left eye throbbed and there was a dull ache in her side, but Zenobia couldn’t stop. She couldn’t ever remember running this fast.

  Adrenaline. With enough adrenaline, a person could be dying and still do things they didn’t think they could do. Her heart banged inside of her chest like a blacksmith’s hammer against an anvil.

  What the heck had just happened back there? One minute she’d been jogging, enjoying her music and the comfortable morning temperature, and now she was literally running for her life. She could see her cousin’s high-rise coming into view, but Zenobia wouldn’t feel safe until she was behind closed doors.

  Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, refusing to fall apart as fear and panic warred inside of her. Winded, she took a quick glance over her left shoulder again, glad those thugs hadn’t followed her.

  Just keep it together. You’re almost there.

>   Telling herself that wasn’t helping. Tears leaked from her eyes and she wiped them away as fast as they fell. She was within seconds from the main entrance of the complex. She couldn’t let anyone see her fall apart.

  Panting, Zenobia slowed and glanced back again to make sure the coast was clear. Then she frantically scrubbed her hands over her face. The luxury condominium complex rarely had people hanging out in the lobby, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to know she’d been crying. Not only had one of her earbuds fallen out during the attack, but she had also lost her baseball cap, her meager disguise. Now there was a chance that someone might recognize her. The same way the other jogger, her hero, had done.

  At first, when their eyes met, something so powerful and sensual passed between them. Something Zenobia couldn’t put a name to, but she’d felt the intensity deep inside her soul. It was as if everything around them stopped. Like a captivating melody that only the two of them could hear started playing, binding them together in that perfect moment in time.

  But then she noticed the moment he recognized her. His dark, penetrating eyes rounded, but even that hadn’t broken the spell that connected them. She hadn’t returned to reality until one of the kidnappers started for her again. She might’ve still been standing there in La-La land had her hero not yelled for her to run.

  God bless him. Had it not been for him coming to her rescue, she didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened.

  “Welcome back, Ms. Westfield,” the doorman said, holding the glass door open for Zenobia while her heart pounded double time. He flashed her a warm smile, having no clue of the traumatic experience she’d just endured.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, and quickly rushed past him. Hurrying to the elevator, she jabbed a shaky finger at the Up button several times, praying the doors would quickly open. The silver doors slid open and Zenobia dashed into the car, then pressed the button that read twenty-fifth floor.