She thought she left the cult behind. He thought he’d always protect her. They were oh so wrong.
Twenty-year-old Lacey Simon jumped from a building on fire to escape the cult her stepdad was leading, so college should be oh so easy. Except Lacey can’t seem to move on. Not only does she receive threatening letters, she’s also failing her classes. Fun times. Only Hunter, the firefighter who saved her from the fire and who’s been there for her ever since, reminds her that her stepdad no longer dictates her future. He tutors her in English, and he makes her laugh, blush and help her be more daring. But why does it feel like he’s only doing this to redeem himself from mistakes of his past?
Twenty-one-year-old Hunter Harrington used to think he was invincible until a frat party turned tragic and he discovered a dead body in the pool. Ever since that day, he’s been doing his best to keep his grades up and help others. Yep, he even joined the volunteer firefighters’ college program. When he’s accused of plagiarism, he’s forced to spend more time with Lacey. Not that he minds. He’d love to get even closer. But he has secrets of his own that could destroy their relationship before it even starts. And can he really keep her safe?
Can they trust themselves and each other enough to no longer be afraid to love and…to stay alive?
Discover Lacey & Hunter’s story in TRUST ME, TRUST ME NOT, the third standalone book in the Gavert City series
Genre: FICTION / Romance / SuspenseNo one is following me.
It takes me less than five minutes to get to the open space. I put my hands on my knees and exhale before straightening back up with a smile on my face. I almost do a happy dance. It feels like a small victory. And I’ll take all the victories I can. And I might still make it on time to my Intro to Shakespeare class if I sprint. I swerve right and slam into a tree.
“Woah!” The tree has a voice. A voice I’d recognize anywhere. A voice that stars in my dreams and saves me in my nightmares.
“Hunter,” I whisper as I flail and stumble backwards. That victorious feeling was short-lived. I’m going to smack the floor and everyone will stare again. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t. I brace myself for the impact, but his strong arm wraps around my waist. Saving me once more. And for a second I’m pressed flushed against him. He’s warm and comfortable and familiar…despite the fact I haven’t talked to him face-to-face since the day I left the hospital months ago.
