Impact (Iron Orchids Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Enough - Book 1, Iron Orchids Series

  Impact

  Iron Orchids Series

  Danielle Norman

  Copyright © 2018 by Danielle Norman

  and F Squared, LLP

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission from either the author and or the above named publisher of this book with the exception for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.

  To Manday and several bottles of vodka,

  Sure, you thought your name was Mandy, but whose bright idea was it to ask me to sign their book after I’d had several drinks? Well, you got what you deserved, a new name and a place in history. Well, not history, just this book. Ok, you can call it history if you want. I totally saved that inscription bitch.

  To Hunter,

  NO, this is not a place to hide your stash.

  To Ashley,

  Fuck you. Fuck you big time. Kiss my ass. Yeah, no joke, not kidding. You are the reason that Grey Goose stays in business.

  Contents

  1. Katy

  2. Damon

  3. Katy

  4. Damon

  5. Katy

  6. Katy

  7. Damon

  8. Katy

  9. Damon

  10. Katy

  11. Damon

  12. Katy

  13. Katy

  14. Katy

  15. Damon

  16. Katy

  17. Damon

  18. Katy

  19. Damon

  20. Katy

  21. Katy

  22. Damon

  23. Damon

  24. Katy

  25. Katy

  26. Katy

  27. Damon

  28. Damon

  29. Katy

  30. Damon

  31. Katy

  32. Damon

  33. Katy

  34. Katy

  Epilogue

  Never be a prisoner of your past. It was just a lesson not a life sentence.

  ~Unknown

  Chapter 1

  Katy

  Just in case you were wondering, karma was pronounced as two blue lines meant you were pregnant. Oh, and its middle name was Ha-ha, Fuck You. But I wasn’t bitter. No, I passed the blame to where it belonged . . . Disney, for my world of disillusions. Growing up, I never stopped to think about the Little Mermaid or why she had an entire song about her amazement at having legs. When in reality she should have been more shocked by the fact that she had a vagina.

  But Cinderella truly boggled my mind. I was raised thinking she had it rough. In all actuality, the bitch had an entire movie, a prince, glass slippers, and for what? Being treated the way moms were treated every single fucking day of the year.

  I should know, two weeks after I turned eighteen, I became a mom. Nothing made you grow up and face reality and all the lies you’d been fed in the fairy tales quite like telling your parents you were pregnant at the beginning of your senior year of high school.

  “Mom. Mommmmm.”

  To me, she may as well have been screaming, “Cinderellaaa!”

  I darted upstairs and into the master bedroom.

  “What?”

  “Mom. Look at the time.” Bee pointed to her Kindle.

  “Ah, crap. I’m sorry, I totally lost track of time. We gotta go. Hurry.” Bee jumped out of bed and raced downstairs while I hurriedly rolled up the blankets, stacked our pillows on top of them, and tied a giant ribbon around the entire bundle for easy carrying. After taking one final glance around the room to make sure we left nothing behind, I turned and rushed back downstairs to join my daughter in our rehearsed morning routine. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out Bee’s toothbrush and toothpaste, and then handed them over before moving to our clothes duffle and pulling out an outfit for her.

  “How about this?” I held up a pair of denim shorts and a University of Florida Gators shirt.

  “Sure. Thanks, Mom.” Bee took the clothes from me and closed the bathroom door. I rummaged through my bag, knowing full well she forgot the most important thing. “Mommy, can you bring me some toilet paper?” Tossing the roll in to her, I let out a laugh, the only time she called me Mommy anymore was when she needed something.

  A few minutes later, we were ready. One more quick trek around to ensure the sink was spotless, the floor immaculate, and not a single blonde hair from either of us was left anywhere in the house, and we were ready.

  “You’ve got your backpack with your homework?”

  “Yes.” She huffed, rolled her eyes, and pulled on her backpack as I grabbed our duffel, which was full of essentials like shampoo, conditioner, toothbrushes, toilet paper, and a change of clothing, and snagged the bundle of pillows and blankets.

  Cracking open the back door, I stuck my head out and checked for anything out of the norm. Opening it wider, I gave Bee the go ahead. She dashed out, and I followed behind, making sure the door didn’t completely catch as it closed. We headed straight into the woods where our car was safely parked and hidden.

  I’d been putting off finding a new place, I hated change, but I hated the thought of getting caught even more. The property developers had changed the banners this week. The ones that once waved counting down the number of lots that had been available had been switched out for the red ones. Sold out. If that wasn’t a sign that it was time to move on, then nothing was. All I could do was pray that the new subdivision would have a house for us to hide in.

  We threw our duffels into the trunk, Bee holding her Kindle like the sacred item that it was to her as she headed to the front seat.

  “Where do you want to go for breakfast? We’re late, so it’ll have to be drive-thru.”

  “Mickey D’s is fine.”

  “Pancakes?” As if she’d want anything else.

  “Duh.”

  “Duh.” I shook my head at her and started the car.

  Being a single parent without a college education and zero help in the world, money only went so far. I had to make some drastic decisions in life, some I was proud of, such as my beautiful girl sitting next to me, and some I was not so proud of . . .

  But I had a bank account and was putting a small amount away to hopefully be able to afford the first, last, and security deposit somewhere. But the three thousand dollars I neede
d might as well have been three million dollars to me. With my car payment, phone bill, food, necessities, childcare for Bee when I was at work, plus a class at the community college so I could hopefully get a better-paying job someday didn’t leave much in the bank.

  I loved Orlando. Finding a job was super easy, but they were usually low-paying or had weird hours, which meant that childcare was outrageous.

  I glanced in my rearview mirror to change lanes, and my stomach clenched. About three car lengths behind me was a black Charger. It wasn’t the first time that I’d seen him, and I had a scary suspicion that I knew who it was. He was such a weasel but unfortunately I wasn’t one-hundred percent positive that it was him, the windows were too dark. But the black Charger always seemed to appear out of thin air and had been doing so for just over a year. The first time I’d seen him began what I lovingly referred to now as, musical houses. That was the night Bee and I left the shelter and moved into the first house. I’d die before I’d allow him to get his hands on me or Bee.

  “It’s this weekend, right?” Bee asked, pulling me from my rising stress.

  “This weekend for what?”

  “Clothes shopping.” Bee held out her hands as if the answer was obvious, and I nodded.

  “Yep. Want to try Maitland or Winter Park this month?”

  “Umm, Winter Park. Clothes there still have tags.” Bee’s eyes were wide as she told me this, reminding me new clothes were unheard of in our world.

  God, I loved her so damn much, but seeing her face light up over having new clothes made me want to cry. I thought I’d made a game out of going to Goodwill. Every month, we’d take a few things to a consignment shop and sell them and then go to one of the Goodwill stores in the ritzy areas and dig for clothes that were practically new. Hell, I had even found a Burberry skirt there, and to think, I used to play outside in Burberry and didn’t think twice about getting a stain.

  Pulling into the turn lane with the rest of parents dropping their children off, I tried to think of what I could give up so Bee could have new clothes.

  “Bye, Mom.” Bee had her seatbelt unclasped.

  “Give me a kiss,” I said as I put my car in park in front of her school. “I have class today, so I’ll pick you up late.” I tapped her nose with my index finger when she leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Be a good bug.” She slid out and slammed the door. That was when I noticed her Kindle in the door’s side pocket. Rolling down the window, I hollered, “Hey, Bee bug, you forgot your Kindle.” She raced back and grabbed it.

  “Thanks, Mommy. Ms. Sophie is coming up to the community center today for book club.”

  “Okay, tuck it away. Love you.” She turned and started to walk away. “Hey,” I said, stopping her. She turned and gave me that smile that only Bee could give; it brightened the rainiest of days. It was us against the world. “You’re the peanut to my butter.” She blushed and headed to the school. A horn honked behind me aggressively and totally flipped my bitch switch. Glancing into the rearview mirror, soccer mom Suzy’s smile reflected back. Of course, that wasn’t really her name, but everyone knew this type of woman. They were always so fucking perfect, chaperoned all the school field trips, made homemade cupcakes for her kid’s soccer team, and threw lavish birthday parties for her kid because she had a husband who worked and she stayed home. She was probably on some fucking tennis team as well.

  “I’m going. I’m going. Hold your fucking horses. I was just saying goodbye to my kid.” She honked again. “Okay, bitch. Do it again, and I’m getting out of my car.” Not really, I wasn’t ever brave enough. But I was tired, my kid had broken my heart over the thought of clothes with tags, and my patience was nonexistent. The woman laid on her horn and let it blare.

  I put my car in gear and started rolling forward but had to stop when a little boy dashed in front of me. The bitch was still honking. Throwing my car into park, I grabbed my cup of coffee and got out.

  “What’s your problem, lady? Did you want me to run over the kid?”

  “Well, we would have been passed him had you not dawdled for so long.”

  Dawdled? Who the fuck said dawdle? This crazy ass woman was probably late for a nail appointment. Or, I didn’t know, maybe—colonics? She probably needed a massive cleaning because she was obviously full of shit.

  “Whatever. Could you please move, I’m late for an appointment.” Her voice was grating and nasally.

  “I’m sorry. But please chill, there are kids.”

  “There is probably one less, looks like you may have eaten him.” She waved her pointer finger at me before turning to the equally stuck up bitch sitting in the front seat next to her, who was wearing a tennis outfit. Yep, soccer mom Suzy and Tits Magee were late for the club.

  Wanting nothing more than to chuck my coffee into their open car window and scream, I decided to be the adult, waved my fingers in the air, and walked back to my car. They might not know what waving the fingers meant, but I sure as hell did. My gesture was better than giving someone the bird; the bird was one finger. I was giving them the whole fucking flock.

  I got to work, scanned my badge, and hauled ass down the hallway to my cubicle. I was in my seat and logging on with a minute to spare. I worked for Disney in the reservation center and helped people book their dream vacations, and I loved my job, the perks were even better. I couldn’t give my daughter a lot, but my kid had known the ins and outs of every Disney park since we were able to go for free. The only drawback was the pay, which was why I was taking classes.

  I smiled. After work today, I was headed to take the final exam in my accounting class, and that would put me one step closer to meeting my goals.

  Chapter 2

  Damon

  Jim, I understand your situation. But you and I went through this with the last property you purchased. Once we remove the prop furniture from the model home, we put on a fresh coat of paint and replace the carpet. We will finish the wiring for the outside and the garage. Then the county will come out and inspect the property, and if everything passes, we will get the CO. This is standard operating procedure.”

  I wanted to poke my eyes out with the pen that I was currently rolling through my fingers. This man was the most obnoxious homebuyer I’d ever dealt with. God, I missed Sloane. Why in the hell did my secretary have to decide to have a third baby and then get the urge to be a stay-at-home mom? Okay, I respected her, but still, it left me with dealing with this man no fewer than three times a day for the last two weeks.

  “I understand that you are anxious to own this home. But you are buying this as a rental property. You of all people should respect the fact that we put safety first. It protects you as well as us. Listen, I hate to cut you off.” Okay, I really didn’t, but he didn’t know that. “But the movers are here to start packing the furniture, so I need to let you go. Yes, they have to do it today, we have deadlines. I’ve got to go.” I hung up before he had a chance to say another word.

  Happy to get off the phone with him, I sat at the kitchen bar and waited for the movers, who were late. Opening my notebook, I pulled out a sheet of my company stationery and made a to-do list. First on my list was to find a secretary, the second was to see if I could expedite the CO on this home to get this man out of my hair.

  Glancing at my watch, I sighed, annoyed to still be waiting. I should have had some of our guys do the job, but they were working like crazy, trying to finish the last few homes in phase two. Our job was a never-ending cycle. One phase ending, one in progress, and one starting, but I couldn’t complain, the money was steady. When this one was completed, we’d move to a subdivision of luxury homes where each one would be custom designed. Those were my favorite since I actually got to use my architectural degree.

  I stood when I heard the beep, beep, beep from a truck in reverse and walked outside to meet the movers.

  “Hi, I’m Damon Christakos.” I shook their hands, trading introductions before I accepted the clipboard from one of the guys.

 
; “So, you know the plan?” I wanted verification from them as I flipped through the paperwork and signed on each dotted line.

  “Yep. We’ll pack up the model homes and take the furniture to your warehouse.”

  Once the last page was signed, I handed the clipboard back to one of the guys. “I’ll be in the kitchen doing work in case you need something.” I turned and headed back inside. There was still so much work to do, and these eighteen-hour work days were killing me.

  The Winds subdivision was broken up into five phases, Windmill and Windsurf were complete. Windswept was phase three, which was where this home was. While Windsong, our newest phase, had model homes and we were just starting to sell the lots. But I still needed to finalize the designs for phase five, which was Windjammer.

  I opened my laptop and pulled up the folder Windjammer.

  “Hey, sir, what should we do with this?” I looked up at one of the guys—Barney or Fred . . . shit, I didn’t remember his name.

  “With what?” I asked, wondering what the hell was confusing about my words, pack up everything.

  “This.” He dangled a pink little girl’s sock with lace around the edge.

  I took it from him. “Where did you find this?”

  “It was wedged between the mattress and the footboard.”

  “Just leave it with me. Let me know if you find anything else out of place.”

  “Okay.”

  He went back to work, and I stared at the sock. It could be my niece’s, but how would it get wedged between the mattress and footboard?