Fire and Rain Read online

  Fire and Rain

  Written by Tiana Laveen

  Edited by Natalie G. Owens

  Cover Layout by Travis Pennington

  “You’ll hear rumors that I’m crazy.

  Believe them.” – Aries Creed

  Blurb

  Aries ‘Flame’ Creed is not the kind of man you want to cross. He’s rough around the edges, revenge-seeking, shrewd and nobody’s pushover. After living through a checkered past and a nasty divorce, single fatherhood and a successful motorcycle sales and repair shop in Atlanta, GA keep him on his toes. Things are finally looking up until, one day, he learns his wealthy, estranged father has passed away and left him his entire estate. One such asset is a historic building in a prime part of town.

  Lauren McKinney loves vintage cars, healing crystals, strong coffee, and dirty books. She owns the ‘Kindred Spirits,’ bookstore in Atlanta, her pride and joy for years. Widowed and definitely not looking, she’s convinced herself that she’s content, and doing her best to look on the bright side of life. That is, until her business is jeopardized by a devil with haunting amber eyes, more ink on his body than on a world map, and a seasoned professional in the art of intimidation.

  All hell breaks loose, perhaps for reasons that neither fully acknowledge until their backs are up against the bookshelf walls. Chemistry ignites, and Aries and Lauren turn from enemies to friends, and then lovers…

  This is a tale of broken hearts, awakenings, and two searing souls coming together and healing as one.

  Can Aries sort through his pain and anger at the world to give love another try? Can Lauren admit some harsh truths and trust her own heart this second time around?

  Read ‘Fire and Rain’ to find out!

  Get scorched in the fire,

  and baptized by the rain.

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2020 by Tiana Laveen

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. PIRACY IS AGAINST THE LAW.

  Please do not skip this section.

  The warning is here for your protection and to provide a heads up.

  This book is intended for mature eyes ONLY. As the author, I never wish for my readers to be blindsided. If any of the below-mentioned topics offend you or may be a trigger, please proceed with caution:

  1. Profanity

  2. Graphic sexual encounters

  3. Discussions of racism, injustice, and prejudice which include occasional racial slurs.

  4. Violence

  5. Abandonment

  One more tidbit: THIS BOOK IS A SLOW BURN.

  One more thing – For those unfamiliar with my work, I purposefully write ‘goddamn’ as ‘gotdamn.’ It’s an intentional spelling error. Just personal preference.

  Let’s continue…

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to those who have lost someone they so dearly loved.

  To those trying to pick up the pieces after a hard road traveled.

  To those hanging on by a thread, but determined to persevere in spite of it all.

  To those who’ve found love again, after being betrayed by their own heart.

  To random acts of kindness, civility, forgiveness, and true love.

  Yes, this is for you.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  About this Book

  Copyright

  Warning

  Dedication

  Love Letter to my Readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Music Directory

  About the Author

  Love Letter to my Readers

  The world is constantly changing. And so are we. This is unavoidable. When you are part of a machine, even if you remain perfectly still, you will be forever altered by the various moving parts, the sounds within and outside your immediate environment. As the saying goes, ‘No man is an island.’ We must evolve, even if it is at a snail’s pace. We must adapt, because adaptation is a key component of survival.

  Evolution. What does it mean? Growth. Watching more what we say and do… Becoming wiser, learning from our mistakes. Perhaps thinking long and hard about why we behave in the manner that we do? Something we desperately desired ten years ago, oftentimes, isn’t what we wish for today. I wrote this story during a time when tomorrow was threatened, yesterday was soaked in hopefulness, and today was pleading to come. The entire planet was gasping for breath. I am writing this in past tense because I pray that evolution will continue to occur – that we will all have another day, and then another, to make choices, to laugh, to grow.

  I have no idea when you are reading this novel. It could be in the year it was written or 100 years later, but I will say this: The current condition of mother nature and humanity has bred contempt, vileness, anxiety and depression. It has also birthed togetherness, appreciation, love, clemency, awakening, truth, creativity, resourcefulness and determination. I have pulled from this time in the world, and decided to focus on stories I desperately wish to tell and that I know many would like to hear. But I’m also doing it so my cherished readers, who I absolutely adore, get to exhale.

  Books are medicine. They are prescriptions that help us feel a bit better, teach us a thing or two, make us smile, laugh, feel something in a whole new way. You take one or two as needed, perhaps ten or twelve, and it gets to work right away. We escape into written worlds filled with magical places, treacherous villains, sublime characters and troubled creatures we do not know until we delve into the chapters. More times than not, if it hooks our interest, we are rooting for someone who pulls at our heartstrings.

  At the same time, we are oftentimes despising another character, usually someone who is causing chaos, and wishing on a star for a few of the side characters who are carrying their own loads. Our own experiences, minds, and the way we interpret the words on the page or our e-reader device colors how we see and feel from one page to the next.

  Two readers can read the exact same book, have similar taste in literature, and have an entirely different view of the novel once they are through. That’s the beauty of reading – the capability to color the pages with our own thoughts and ideas, imprint our perceptions over the pictures the author paints with words. It’s amazing, really – and all we as authors hope for is that each and every one of you get what you need, what you came here for. Your prescription is filled, and one can simply wish that it doesn’t have adverse side effects.

  Instead, we hope that you are re-charged, delighted, laughing so much your stomach hurts, crying tears of joy, or frightened beyond belief – in a good way, of course. Art doesn’t apologize. But it does sympathize.

  Yes, it’s our art – it is our story and we, the authors, have the right to tell it how we see fit – but there is no doubt the goal is for readers to feel just that much happier after they’ve read the last sentence of the last chapter. You aren’t the only one with a new prescription right now.

  Writing is my drug. Reading is my time on the ‘therapist couch’ and interacting with my beloved fans is fuel for my flying fingers. I work with my mind and my hands. People don’t often think of authors that way, but we do. Just ask our nemesis, carpal tunnel; it’s a near certainty that the most prolific of us will experience this ailment. Oh, and another casualty is often a broken nail, but I digress. This story, “Fire and Rain,’ is about a broken man, too. We are imperfect, and so are the people in my stories.

  Aries ‘Flame’ Creed has had more than his share of challenges. Though he, too, is a bit of a perfectionist, he simply admires sincerity and hard work. Aries is a strong man. A man’s man. Big boys don’t cry. He is both level-headed and hot tempered, but keeps a sense of fairness and justice about him, drawing people to him like a moth to a flame.

  Lauren McKinney is an entrepreneur. She is an educated woman with a passion for reading, hot beverages, beautiful places, and plenty of books. She is strong, determined, and has always gone after what she wanted with a vengeance. With some hard work, love, and support from her close family and friends and willpower, she reached her goals and quickly made new ones. The sky was the limit.

  However, despite her best intentions, tragedy struck. She, like Aries, believes big girls don’t cry. Yet, inside, she is a volcano. Only thing is, she is in complete denial of her current condition. Her loving, outward nature covers pain so deep and wide, it rivals an ocean. Together, these two bring the fire and rain to one another. They forge a friendship after a tumultuous start, one that blossoms into a torrential storm and a raging blaze.

  This is a tale of two headstrong souls who find one another, and become each other’s medicine.

  Come along as I take you on a journey of two people who’d given up on love, but in each other, find a reason to embrace their fears, step into the unknown, and trust one another to shower each other with healing. Join me, and witness new passions ignite within…

  Are you ready?

  Perfect!

  Grab a drink, get comfortable, and curl up with Aries and Lauren.

  They can’t wait to meet you…

  CHAPTER ONE

  Taken to Task

  “Mr. Creed, I’d like to go over some preliminary information with you, specifically, and the rest of the Creed family.”

  “All right.” Aries ran his hand down the stiff material of his work shirt until he felt the reassuring rectangular bulge in his top, right pocket. He pulled out the box of cigarettes, removed one and lit it with a cheap black Bic lighter. All eyes were on him in that stodgy room decorated in shades of forest green, copper and rust. Twisted scowls and penetrating stares of animals out for his blood. Fifty percent of the blood that flowed through his veins he didn’t know anything about – hadn’t cared until now.

  Smoke eddied from his cigarette as he slinked back into the grand chair with the lion claw wooden arms. Fancy shit.

  “Mr. Aries Creed, let’s see here…” The distinguished looking fellow with the black and silver hair, black suit, and blue tie sat before him, flipping through a large folder. He was an attorney in the state of Georgia. He came from old money, old ideas, old lies. Behind him hung a large framed oil painting of a Civil War battle scene, and to the left of that, an American flag. “Okay, here we go. Please confirm the information with a yes or no, Mr. Creed. If something is incorrect, we will update it.” Aries nodded. “Your birthdate is April 9th.”

  “Yes.”

  “Your home residence is in Kennesaw. The address is 5837 Wind Haven Court.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  The lawyer continued on, then handed him back his driver’s license.

  “Okay, Mr. Creed. You are the only living child of Mr. Benjamin William Creed. Your father has stated that due to such, he—”

  “Mr. Smith, with all due respect, I am rightly confused. I and this man didn’t have an affiliation. If he’d walked past me on the street, I wouldn’t have even known it. I told you when that girl called me from your office, the one at the front desk,” he waved at the closed office door, “that I don’t know Benjamin. I never laid eyes on the man a day in my life.”

  “But you know he is your father, correct?”

  Aries shrugged.

  “Not until I was older. I knew his name eventually, Mr. Smith. I know he lived here in Atlanta his entire life. I didn’t find out until recently that he was important around town, a bigshot businessman who’d done ‘okay’ for himself.” He rolled his eyes and hooked his fingers to indicate quotation marks. “But that’s it. That’s all I have. Now, if he left me some fishing poles, a car or two, that’s fine. I’ll take his gifts of guilt and be on my way.”

  The attorney slowly removed his glasses and placed them on the big wide desk he sat behind. He clasped his hands and his beady dark brown eyes zeroed in on Aries. A kink in his lips revealed a proud, somewhat regal smile.

  “Mr. Creed, he didn’t leave you a fishing pole… a car or two. You’ve been left with his entire estate. Every. Single. Penny.” The room erupted in gasps and curses, a toppled chair, and some woman with hair so blond, it appeared white storming out of the room in a fit of tears. A small man sporting an old burnt orange suit jacket trailed behind her, calling out her name in a hushed tone, speaking sweet nothings and trying to calm her down. The commotion continued, with people talking over one another as if whoever talked the fastest would score a piece of the pie.

  “I don’t know these people around me, either.” Aries turned and stared at everyone. It was about eight people bunched up in there, all of them looking anywhere from downright depressed to mad as a hornet in a knocked-down nest. “We all share blood apparently, due to my dead father. You’re all here for the same reason I am. After what Mr. Smith said, I take it they feel some sorta way, but I have nothing to do with that and—”

  “Ya damn straight I feel some sort of way!” a man piped up, perched on a chair as if he were about to rocket right out of his seat. His face was red and his eyes blue and sleepy. Clad in a plaid shirt and dark brown pants that bunched real tight about the crotch, he looked ridiculous. “Did you give this man a DNA test?!” the man screamed, pointing at Aries. His eyes strained to go as big as they possibly could.

  “No. There was no DNA test given,” Mr. Smith answered.

  “Well then, how in the hell do we even know this is his damn son?!”

  “Yeah!” many others chimed in.

  Mr. Smith took a leisurely sip of his water, then pulled out another file.

  “My client, Mr. Benjamin Creed, made it perfectly clear that Aries Creed, the son of Sandra Dixon, is in fact his son.”

  “Bull pucky! Ben never mentioned no damn kid to me, ’cept Paul, who is deceased! Never heard of no damn Aries!”

  “Mr. Dunes, Benjamin did not question the paternity of Aries here. In fact, he brought in two photos, placed them side by side, and presented them to me when taking care of his Last Will and Testament that we’re now discussing.”

  The lawyer cleared his throat and pulled out a board that was on the side of his desk, face down. On the left side was an old worn baby photo, who he presumed was his father. On the right was his own baby picture. A lump formed in Aries’ throat. The room drew quiet.

  “As you can see,” the man continued, “Aries is practically a carbon copy of his father here. Seeing his son soon after birth, Benjamin had no questions regarding the child’s paternity. Additionally, Ari es has three genetic dispositions that run in the Creed family. A sixth finger, which was removed right after delivery – and which Benjamin had as well. A cleft chin, which of course we can’t see since Aries has a beard, and also a widow’s peak. These are all inherited traits.”

  “Well, that don’t mean anything!” the same man piped up, his face now redder than ever. “Widow’s peaks are a dime a dozen! Superman chins are nothing to write home about, hardly a rare thing, and six fingers could be from the mother’s side. Who the hell knows?”

  “So you’re a medical expert now, huh? Newsflash. You’re not in charge here.” Aries sneered.

  “We want answers!”

  “You don’t care about answers and the truth. You only care about the money. Now you’ve got this attorney here pullin’ out science fair charts and shit on your behalf and you’re still not satisfied!” Aries chuckled.

  “As he should!”

  “Next thing ya know, he’ll have to pull out a book about the birds and the bees for you, explain how this basic shit works. Well, ya see, boys and girls, sometimes a man meets a woman and they do a little somethin’ somethin’… Do you need a picture book for that, too?”

  “You can make all the jokes you want, but this is not funny. We’re Benjamin’s family. You just showed up outta the clear blue and we demand to know the truth! Nobody is going to sit here and not question this—”

  “Did you hear me? You mean nothing to me. I don’t even know you. Neither I nor Mr. Smith have to explain a gotdamn thing to you, buddy. Mr. Smith, I have things to do, so please, if you can, continue.”

  Silence returned for a bit.

  “Mr. Dunes, I do have to elaborate a bit more on what we were discussing previously. I’m not a scientist, but I did consult a genealogist just in case.” The attorney flipped through a few papers. “Widow’s peaks are not a maternal trait. They are from the father’s side. Hair color can be from either side, but that specific trait, the peak, is paternal. Now, I can see that, as Mr. Benjamin Creed’s cousin and friend, you are troubled by this information. However, please bear in mind that these are the deceased’s wishes. I am simply the messenger.”