Heartbeat Echoes Read online

  Table of Contents

  HEARTBEAT ECHOES

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  PART ONE:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  PART TWO:

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  HEARTBEAT ECHOES

  BRITTANY YEATS

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  HEARTBEAT ECHOES

  Copyright©2019

  BRITTANY YEATS

  Cover Design by Anna Lena Spies

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

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-844-9

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To my mom, Karen,

  for being my rock,

  my faith,

  and my unwavering support

  through the trials and triumphs

  of launching a writing career

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to acknowledge my family, Karen, Ed, and Miranda Yeats. I would like to acknowledge Nora Roberts for the dream of becoming a writer and a huge thank you and acknowledgement to Laura Reeth. She gave me amazing advice about this industry and helped me write my pitch. I would like to acknowledge Phyllis Cirbus for giving me insight for my Italy section. Thanks for all the love and support from my readers!!

  Prologue

  The slice of the spade through the dirt screamed across his nerves. The words in his mind were repeated like a chant. As the hole became deeper, the chant turned into a prayer, the words unknowingly falling from his lips. “For my family. For my future. Let no one ever discover what I’ve done. For my family. For my future.”

  When he could no longer feel his arms and his fingers ran bloody, he reached down for the soaking parcel lying on the ground next to him. Luckily it had not stained the ground, otherwise there might have been some questions. A chilling thought. It was next to the root ball of an unplanted tree. He planned for the tree to be a symbol for his land. Strong and proud and true. It would be his reminder, to fight whenever he was threatened or challenged, to make sure he kept what was his. To take, whatever the cost.

  He placed the meager black bag into the hole. Never in his life had he wanted to touch something less. He set it into the freshly rendered earth, this space in the ground looking almost too much like a grave and not like a spot for a tree. For one terrifying moment, he swore he heard it beat one last time. Mocking the sins he had committed, alerting everyone to his treachery and deception. After several minutes, he felt his own blood unfreeze as he realized the bag wasn’t moving and continued to his task.

  He muscled the new tree, a marker that this land was his land and could not be taken away again, over to the hole and wondered to himself just how he was going to get the damned thing into the ground.

  He looked around again, torn at it being the dead of night. One half of him grateful it was dark with only a sliver of moon for light. The other half of him regretful that there was no one to help him in this grisly task. It was something he would take to the grave, but a henchman would have been handy at the moment.

  Stopping for a moment, James set down the shovel and walked a few paces away. He needed fresher air and a minute to remember who he was. He started to lecture himself. You are not a killer. You are not a murderer. You are a smart, resilient man that needed to provide for your family by any means possible. You made a decision and now you have to live with it. Pull yourself together, finish this nasty business, and go back to bed with your wife.

  Turning back to his task, he pulled and tugged until the tree was centered over the bloody, oozing sack. He filled in the excess dirt around the roots and took a deep breath. His first that was somewhat easy in hours.

  His secret was at last buried, hopefully forever. He gazed back at the construction of his new house. The sheer majesty of the structure was already brilliant and the only part officially standing was the wooden support beams.

  No one would ever have to know how he got this land. No one would ever have to know the atrocities he had done to secure his place in the upper class of the world. He and his family, all of them to come in the future generations, would be important. They would be exceptional.

  James moved toward the house and wondered if his mind was starting to play tricks on him. Was there a smell? Would the men suspect why a rich man would have planted his own tree instead of hiring a day laborer for the task? Would James ever feel less paranoid?

  Shaking himself, he felt a deep sense of relief when the shovel was placed back in the spot one of the construction crew had left it when they departed for the day. No one would ever realize a thing.

  James truly believed everything was going to be all right. He and Jillian would move to their new country manor and enjoy their new life. She didn’t know about his transgressions. His friends and fellow associates didn’t know about anything he did over the past few days. It was going to be successfully kept under wraps for an eternity.

  Little did James know that secrets, even craftily buried ones, had a way of surfacing and making themselves known to any and all who were willing to listen. And there were always plenty of people who were eager to listen to the dirty laundry of their fellow man. James had every reason to be confident that his future would be solid. He was not prepared to trust his intuition that it would be littered with problems as well. It was all connected to the remains resting under the tree. The heartbeats would be heard, felt, and unknowingly ignored by the coming generations of the Yard family.

  PART ONE:

  CALIFORNIA

  Chapter 1

  Everyone knew it was Melissa’s favorite spot in the house, but no one seemed to remember just how much time she spent there. She pressed her hand to the glass of the huge window facing the backyard. Twilight had come and gone and now the back gardens were draped in soft, summer moonlight. She could almost feel the pulse of the glass, like a heartbeat, under her fingers. It was, of course, because her father had stepped into the room an hour ago. Every time he crossed the threshold of a room, it came alive. Alive from the powe
r and confidence her father exuded.

  Turning from the window, she watched through the crack of the curtains enclosing the window bench as her father went over some paperwork. She was curled into the corner of the window’s seat in the vast two-story library. Each window had a bench, but for some reason, the one closest to her father’s desk was her favorite. It was one of her few pleasures in life. Ending the day with the beginning of a new book.

  To an outsider, it looked as if she was playing hide-and-seek. The slim strawberry-blonde with wide, childish eyes, the shocking bright purple was a gift from a long-dead aunt that had made her mother cluck in disapproval. After all, who would be interested in someone with such odd eyes? Curled behind the curtain as she was, it was as if she was daring someone to come and find her. She was indeed waiting for something, or someone, but what or who she couldn’t figure out. Love? Escape? Happiness? She was twenty-nine and vastly unsatisfied with her life.

  Melissa’s thoughts turned gray. She was a woman of privilege, given anything she wanted as a child, and having the means to get anything she wanted now as an adult. She lived in a four-story mansion that had history and beauty built into its very bones. The house was run by a well-trained staff, so she had never known what it was to worry about cleaning, cooking, or any other mundane household chores. That staff included her own personal maid, a girl her own age, who over the years had become a friend more than a servant. Someone who really listened and gave advice that was more understanding than any from a doctor or her own parents.

  Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of all the things she had in her life. A shiny fast car, a big beautiful house, a wonderful family, two best friends she could call sisters, and if she wanted male company, she could bat her eyelashes and get some. Why was she so unhappy? Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long to figure it out. Melissa dreaded more than anything ending up a forty-year-old, confused, lonely woman.

  Her little pity party was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing. It sounded like her father was going to lose a lung this time. Melissa inched closer to the edge of the seat, instantly gripped with worry. She watched as her father stood and bent over the edge of his massive mahogany desk, a handkerchief pressed to his mouth, a hand spread over his chest, beads of sweat pearling on his forehead. Something locked tight in Melissa’s chest as she watched his infamous confidence dim. This was the second spasm she seen him have in a week.

  He sat back down in his humorously enormous leather chair and tried to calm his breathing. Melissa could see the effort it was taking him to regain a healthy rhythm. Relaxing finally, he picked up a stack of papers to try to regain some normalcy, but after a few minutes cursed and threw them across the room. He leaned his head back and sighed heavily.

  Strong and usually resilient, Max Yard could not understand why his body was failing him. He had so much more to do in life and every day he could feel himself become a little more feeble. It was a complete insult, having to deal with such a weakness as illness. He was only fifty-six years old. There was no way he was going to leave the planet this early. He had to protect his daughter and make sure she wasn’t forced into some socially acceptable marriage that made her miserable for the rest of her life. He had to train his son to be just as powerful a leader as he was. There was amazing potential there, but it would still take time to nurture Conner along. For God’s sake he’s still a baby, for all intents and purposes. Ashley was still so little, she needed a strong father figure in her life.

  Quiet as a mouse, Melissa slipped from the window bench and scuttled around, gathering all the papers. Her father lifted his head when he saw his papers thrust under his nose. He flushed and looked up at his daughter.

  “How long have you been in this room?”

  Melissa smiled and had the grace to look sheepish.

  “Since dinner was finished, but I saw that whole episode. It was long enough to know you have a serious sailor, the-air-is-now-blue vocabulary, sir.”

  Instead of giving his usual smirk, sadness etched itself in his features for a moment. Melissa sat on the edge of his desk, wracking her brain for a way to make him smile.

  “Mother made me have lunch with Thomas again. I feel a little dumber, honestly. If he spent another minute asking how my duck was, or if I wanted to hear about the newest additions to his vast belt collection, I was going to heave my duck in his face.” It pleased Melissa enormously to see a genuine grin spread across her father’s handsome face.

  “He really is such a moron. I have no idea how that man has managed to not only stay in business but make it successful.” Melissa laughed, pleased to have someone understand how painful it was to deal with the socially inept Thomas Masterson.

  “Thomas was blessed to have a very reliable assistant who has a master’s degree in business. Rebecca runs the company without him really knowing what is going on. He’s just a . . . well . . . I guess you could call him a glorified figurehead.” Her father laughed, instantly loosening the tightness in Melissa’s chest.

  “You look beat, Daddy-o. Maybe you should turn in for the night.”

  He smiled absently and patted her knee. “No worries, kiddo. I’m supposed to be the one worrying about you. No speeding tickets lately? No extravagant shopping bills I have to sell a kidney to pay off? You’re too well-behaved for a girl of such wealth.”

  On a sigh of feigned annoyance, Melissa mockingly rolled her eyes, wondering if he knew she was trying to distract him.

  “How am I getting in trouble for being a good girl? Outrageous. Mother is refusing to let me drive that badass sports car you bought me. She’s making me lose my mind.” Her father’s eyes went distant, as if he heard a noise only inside his own brain. Shaking himself, he patted her knee again.

  “Sneaking out is acceptable. Just go out, for God sakes. Live life crazy. But make sure you hide the crazy from your mother. Go. Now. I’ll occupy her.”

  Melissa was still dubious until he picked up the in-house intercom.

  “Anna? Put on your fancy shoes. We’re going out. No. No double date with Melissa and whatever boring, random trust fund goober you think is perfect for her. Just you and me, darling. Twenty minutes.” He clicked off and raised an eye brow at her.

  “Looks like I have to dig out a heart-stopping party dress.”

  Her father smiled again and made a shooing motion.

  Melissa touched his shoulder and then in a very girlie motion, jumped up from desk and flounced from the room.

  The car purred around her. It was closer to a roar if you were on the outside, but that didn’t matter to Melissa. The excellent stereo system pumped out a deep pounding bass beat that had Melissa’s body vibrating. The outside world swept past the car in a swirly blur that Melissa paid no mind to. She never seemed to be able to go fast enough. There was a feeling inside her, choking her, that something in her past needed to be outrun. What that something was, Melissa couldn’t name. But she always did her damnedest to outrun the uneasy feeling of the unknown.

  It had been so long since she’d stayed out so late. The club where she showed off her heart-stopping dress had closed at three but Melissa had run into some friends and the group had barhopped until everything was closed. It was now edging on five in the morning, and Melissa could see the sky overhead just starting to silver as the sun rose. Her legs were stiff from dancing, her eyes felt gritty from being awake for so long, but Melissa’s soul felt completely re-energized.

  Of course, none of this was approved by the matron of the house. Her father, however, would most likely be tickled pink by it. And everyone knew if her father was happy, then her mother would do her best to keep that stern, disapproving look on her face, but eventually it would dissolve and she’d smile and walk away.

  Melissa had to choose between sleeping the new day away or going to the warehouse and making a nuisance of herself so her brother would
show her something else new about the family business. Her plans for her own life did not include a country club husband and a horde of stuck-up tennis-playing brats. She was going to see the world, end of story.

  Roaring into her driveway, Melissa decided that going inside was going to be such a drag on her spectacular night, she spontaneously decided to go to her tree. She could watch the sunrise from the top branches and then hopefully come to a decision about what to do with her day. As she rounded the last curve of the winding driveway, her headlights illuminated the rangy silhouette slouched against his muscle car and most of her immediate plans changed.

  He was an Adonis for the human world. Towering over everyone at six feet, five inches was one Christian Cutterson, the current bane of Melissa’s existence. He looked more like a boxer than a successful businessman. Christian had surfer hair, an ashy streaky blond that swept the collar of his shirt, and blue eyes so deep it was like falling into your own private lagoon. He was broad in shoulder and his smile could melt anyone’s heart. His face was granite covered in skin with sharp, high cheekbones, a thin narrow nose that bordered on feminine, and a mouth that was as lethal as it was lush. It wasn’t a wonder why she had fallen for him, but it was still a puzzle why Christian hadn’t fallen for her.

  She could feel his eyes sliding over her skin through the windshield and the little hum that skirted through her blood was very exciting. Melissa hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. He’d been away on business and she had wanted to go with him. Christian had laughed at the thought of them going away together and she watched in fury as his plane climbed to the clouds, leaving her with an evening of Thomas and his never-ending self-love story. Throwing her car in park, she climbed out and stood, waiting for him to make the first move.