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  DAMAGED

  (Book 3 in the Stripped Series)

  By

  Stacy-Deanne

  Copyright © 2018 Stacy-Deanne

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Readers: Thanks so much for choosing my book! I would be very appreciative if you would leave reviews when you are done. Much love!

  Email: [email protected]

  Website: Stacy's Website

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  Other titles by Stacy-Deanne Include:

  Bruised Series

  Tate Valley Sexy Suspense Series

  The Seventh District

  Dead Weight

  You’re the One

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  Want recommendations on great BWWM books and authors? Stop by BWWM Romance Books on Facebook and find some great reads!

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  Author’s Note:

  The Stripped Series is a spinoff of the Bruised Series featuring Dee, Winston, Lisa, Connie, Grayson, and Jake. The Bruised Series focused on Jake and Lisa while the Stripped Series focuses on Dee and Winston.

  If you haven’t read the Bruised Series and would like to check it out, the entire series is available on all retailers.

  Enjoy!

  CHAPTER ONE

  (Three Months after Captured Left Off)

  “Winston!” Detective Connie Wilks exited the stairwell, catching Winston Lewis in the hallway of the police station. “I got big news.”

  “Come up with a plan to get Dee away from Jonathan?” He popped strawberry gum into his mouth. “If not, then I don’t care what it is.”

  “You’ll care about this.” Connie skidded in front of him, holding onto his arm. “Prisha Banerjee’s body was found this morning.”

  The gum slid to the edge of Winston’s lip. “What?”

  “Dumped in the ditch on West Chelsea Boulevard.” The brightness in Connie’s green eyes diminished. “It’s two surprises rolled up into one. First Prisha, who we assumed might have already been dead, has been in town and she’s murdered for real?” She shook her head, her silky blonde ponytail resting on her shoulder. “I can’t believe this.”

  Winston leaned his head back, squinting.

  “I know what you’re thinking. We have no proof Jonathan’s involved.”

  “He’s the reason she disappeared.” He shrugged, chewing. “He’s kidnapped and drugged my girlfriend to get her into his cult. Is it so farfetched he’d kill someone?”

  “I’m assigned to Prisha’s case, and I told Captain Salinger I wanted you to work with me on it. But not if you can’t keep your personal feelings intact.”

  “Connie, he’s kidnapped the woman I love. How can I not have feelings about that?”

  “I’m not saying forget Dee.” She held a sympathetic expression. “But, you need to realize there’s nothing you can do.”

  “I’ll never stop fighting for Dee until she’s out that place.”

  ****

  Broadville Port, Maryland

  “What’s your deal, Shauna?” Jonathan Wild relaxed in the bright orange recliner in his lounge. “You a gluten for punishment or what?”

  “I appreciate you seeing me.” She stood in the middle of the rug, looking delicious in her red pantsuit. “These last three months have been torture without you and The Circle.”

  He nodded, eating golden raisins from a bowl.

  “It’s like I don’t belong anywhere. If it wasn’t for the money, you gave me I wouldn’t have survived. Please.” She got on her knee. “Let me come back. I’ve prayed and I’ve gotten the evil thoughts out of my head. I was jealous of Deidra and it clouded my judgment.” She closed her slanted brown eyes. “Please forgive me. You’re all the family I have.”

  “Deidra is a remarkable woman.” His gaze fell to her milky-white cleavage. “If you’d done to me what you did to her, I wouldn’t care what happened to you.”

  She batted her sweeping lashes.

  “But, Deidra is on such a higher plane that she not only forgives you, she’s the reason I’m listening to you today.”

  She flicked her long, raven-black crinkles away from her round face. “What do you mean?”

  “She even suggested I let you back in.” He laughed, mouth full of mushed raisins. “But I can’t do it even for her.”

  “Jonathan.”

  “You had your chance. You were mistress of this house and we could’ve had a wonderful life together.”

  She stood. “I’d die for you and The Circle.”

  “Do you understand you almost killed Deidra?”

  “I do.” She nodded, sobbing. “But, you said once you’re a part of The Circle you’re always a part of it.”

  He smoothed his hand over his jet-black buzz cut. “I lied.”

  She inhaled, nodding. “I won’t give up. I belong here and if Dee can forgive me, then you can.” She pulled a piece of folded up paper from her pocket. “This is where I’m staying if you need me.”

  He turned up his nose. “I won’t need you.”

  She laid the paper on the table and left.

  ****

  Dee Quarter bumped into a tearful Shauna outside the lounge.

  “I’m sorry, Dee.” Shauna’s cheeks reddened. “My intentions weren’t to kill you, but I couldn’t bear losing my place in The Circle.”

  “Yet, you did anyway.” Dee clasped her hands. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Shauna touched Dee’s white dress and snickered. “You’ve settled into The Circle well, haven’t you? Bet he’ll be making you Head Mistress soon.”

  “You’ve lost what Jonathan taught you.” Dee looked her in the eyes. “Even after all you’ve done I don’t wish ill will on you. I want Jonathan to bring you back into The Circle.”

  “Why?” She grimaced, top lip jumping. “So you can prance around and throw it in my face how much Jonathan cares about you?”

  Dee shook her head, sighing. “You still don’t get it.”

  “I love Jonathan.” Shauna’s bosom heaved. “More than any of you ever will. I’ll get back into The Circle. Trust me on that.” She turned and clacked down the hall in her shiny, black heels.

  “Hm.” Jonathan hugged Dee from behind and turned her around. “You’re so beautiful.” He puckered his lips for a kiss but she moved. “What?”

  “Give Shauna another chance.”

  He gaped his silver-gray, deep-set eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

  Dee touched her cheeks. “In The Circle, aren’t we supposed to love each other unconditionally?”

  “Deidra, she tried to poison you, honey.”

  “And if I can let it go, you can too.”

  “We’d never be able to trust her.” He circled her. “She hates you and thinks you’re taking her place. If we let her in, she’ll be plotting the moment she gets through the door.”

  “We’re supposed to forgive.” She studied his bewildered expression. “No matter what Shauna’s done, she’s as much a part of The Circle as anyone.”

  He sighed, rolling his gorgeous eyes. “I’ll consider it.” He pulled her close. “If you consider something for me.”

  She squirmed as he tightened his arms around her.

  “You’ve been a member of The Circle for three months.” He stroked her natural hair, which hit her shoulders. “And yet, you haven’t fulfilled y
our end of the deal yet.”

  “Jonathan—”

  “Sh.” He put his finger on her lips. “You’ve given yourself to me mentally and spiritually but not physically.” He laid his warm hand to her cheek. “I’ve been patient. You have to be mine fully or this won’t work.”

  “I’m just not comfortable having sex in front of the other women.”

  “That’s part of the deal. When we first make love, we all partake in the moment. It’s like you’re giving yourself to every one of us.” He kissed her and smiled. “Besides, it isn’t fair to the other women. They had to do it.”

  She fidgeted, avoiding eye contact.

  “Is there another reason you don’t wanna make love?” His expression hardened. “Do you still have feelings for Winston Lewis?”

  “No.” She stroked her hands.

  “Your hands are shaking.” He grabbed them. “Is it because you’re lying?”

  “No.” She hugged him. “I love you, Jonathan. I swear it.”

  “Then prove it,” he demanded into her ear. “Your time is running out.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Please sit down, Detectives.” Forty-six-year-old Susan Crawford showed Winston and Connie into her den. “Can I get you something?”

  “Nothing for me, thanks.” Connie took out her notepad as she sat on the floral couch.

  “Me either.” Winston smiled, sitting beside Connie. “We appreciate you taking the time to speak to us.”

  “I can’t believe Prisha’s dead.” Susan sat in the yellow armchair that brought a sparkle to the drab, brown floating throughout the room. “I spoke to her a week ago.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Connie read over her notes. “You let Prisha stay here for a while?”

  “Yes.” Susan crossed her legs in wrinkle-free, beige slacks. “We became online pen pals.”

  “Did you know people thought she was missing all this time?” Winston asked.

  “She told me she’d been traveling because she needed to get away.” Susan stroked her straight, sandy-brown hair. “Said she’d been to Minnesota to see her father. Prisha was a very private person, and I didn’t pry. We had a lot in common. She needed someone to talk to, and I needed to escape.”

  Connie noticed the blue bruise on Susan’s wrist underneath her long sleeve. “What do you need to escape from?”

  She shrugged with a plastered smile. “Just life. Sometimes I feel like no one understands me.”

  “You let Prisha live here when she got back in town.” Winston leaned forward. “How long?”

  She rolled her eyes skyward. “She’s been back for about three months and lived here with us a short while.”

  Connie jotted. “When did she leave?”

  “About a week and a half ago.” Susan bobbed her foot. “She’s staying at the Bay Bridge Boarding House.” She sighed. “Or at least she was.” Her face twisted as she turned red. “Who would hurt her? She was so sweet and kind. Would do anything for anyone.”

  “We’re going to do our best to find out who did this.” Winston half-smiled. “Now you said she moved in with ‘us’. Who else lives here? Your husband or—”

  “I’m not married.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “My husband died seven years ago.” She swallowed, straightening her shoulders. “He had a car accident. His brakes gave out.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Winston said.

  “Thanks.” She grabbed tissue from the box on the round dining table. “Sometimes it seems like only yesterday. Um, I live here with my son Travis Crawford. My boyfriend, Charlie Gere, stays over a lot but doesn’t live here. We’ve been together three years.”

  “How old is Travis?” Connie asked.

  “He’s twenty-five.” She flinched. “Loves computers and anything technical.”

  “Did he get along with Prisha?” Winston raised his hand. “I’m just asking.”

  “Yes.” Susan switched her eyes left and right as if avoiding Connie’s gaze.

  Connie smiled. “What about Charlie?”

  “He’s a carpenter. He has his own business.” She cleared her throat. “He can fix anything.” She smiled. “Very handy.”

  Connie glanced at Susan’s bruise. “Any issues between you and Charlie?”

  “No.” Susan dropped her hands from the armrests of the chair. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Just wondering. He doesn’t have a temper or anything?”

  “Detective Wilks, Charlie didn’t kill Prisha if that’s what you’re leading up to.”

  “We’re just asking questions, Ma’am. Anything you’re honest about will help us.”

  Susan’s dusty-green eyes got wider. “I’ve been honest.”

  The front door slammed followed by keys being thrown on a table.

  “Ma!”

  “Oh, that’s Travis.” Susan sunk her hands into her lap. “In here, sweetie!”

  “Whose car is that outside?” Travis asked as he turned the corner. “Oh.” He stumbled when he saw Winston and Connie. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Travis?” Susan beckoned him forward. “This is Detectives Wilks and Lewis. They’re on Prisha’s case.”

  “Hey.” He rushed to Connie and took her hand. “How are you?” His messy brown bangs hung in his forest-green eyes. “I’m Travis Crawford. Nice to meet you.” He shook Winston’s hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Winston nodded, shaking Travis’ hand. “We were asking your mother about when Prisha lived here.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Travis backed up and stood by his mother’s chair. “Prisha was cool. It’s horrible what happened to her.” He scratched through his short, round haircut. “Anything you need to help solve this let us know.” He leaned on the chair, slipping his arm behind his mother.

  “I think we have enough for now.” Connie stood, smiling. “We’d like to speak to Charlie. Could you tell him to get in touch with us as soon as he’s able?”

  “Sure.” Susan stood as Travis patted her back. “I’ll show you out.” She walked them to the front door. “Have a nice day, Detectives.”

  “You too,” Winston said as he and Connie exited.

  Susan smiled as she closed the door.

  “Did you see that?” Connie asked, heading toward Winston’s white Acura on the street.

  “What?” Winston got out his keys.

  “My trained detective eye went straight to the big bruise on her wrist.”

  “Huh?” He unlocked the car with the remote and opened the driver’s side. “I didn’t notice a bruise.”

  “Well, I saw it plain as day. Your mother was abused for years so I thought you of all people would pick up the signs.”

  Winston got in the car as a breeze blew through his chocolate curls. “Is that why you asked her about her and Charlie?”

  She nodded as she closed the car door.

  He put the keys in the ignition, those amazing blue eyes sparkling. “You think he’s beating her or something?”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced back at the white, two-story home as she put on her seatbelt. “I get a funny feeling there’s secrets in that house.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Charlie, gross.” Susan turned from cutting chicken on the kitchen counter that night. “How many times do I have to tell you not to drink out of the orange juice container?”

  He took a few more big gulps and belched. “Ah.”

  “Ugh.” She groaned, seasoning the cut up chicken breasts. “Why do I put up with you?”

  “Because you love me.” He slipped his burly arms around her from behind, holding her to his dirty jeans and sweat-stained T-shirt.

  She giggled as his kisses tickled that spot right behind her ear. “Stop.”

  “Stop what?” He moved her hair and continued kissing. “Forget that chicken...” His lips smacked on her neck. “And, give me some attention.”

  “With the way you whine about being hungry?”

  “I’m hungry but not for food.” He spun h
er around and laid his fleshy lips on hers as she burrowed her fingers in his cinnamon hair. “I swung by the police station after work and talked to Wilks and Lewis.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Fine.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “They just asked me some simple—”

  “Ah, fuck.” Travis stopped at the kitchen doorway, sighing. “I wish you two wouldn’t be hanging all over each other where I eat.”

  Susan wiped her lipstick off Charlie’s mouth and tended to the chicken.

  “When’s dinner gonna be ready?” Travis put one hand on his hip.

  “Soon.” Susan floured the chicken.

  “Doesn’t look like it.” He stalked toward the counter. “It’s not even cooking yet.”

  “Chicken doesn’t take long.”

  “I’m hungry now.”

  “Hey.” Charlie pushed him back. “Your mother said the food will be ready soon and it will be. Why don’t you go back in the room and wait?”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, dipstick.”

  “Travis, please.” Susan dumped the chicken into the pan of oil on the stove. “Don’t start.”

  “He’s the one who’s pushing on me like he fucking owns something around here.” Travis got in Charlie’s face, eyebrows crinkled. “I dare you to put a hand on me again.”

  “That’s a very grown-up attitude, Travis.” Charlie chuckled. “Get out my face.”

  “You get out my house.”

  “Stop it.” Susan threw the knife and cutting board in the sink. “Can we please have one day without you two fighting?”

  “As long as he’s here this is how it will always be.” Travis breathed through his nostrils. “I’m warning you, Charlie. Don’t fuck with me.”

  “Travis,” Susan yelled.

  “Or what?” Charlie stuck his mammoth chest out. “I’d like to see what you’d do.”

  Travis’ narrow lips formed a smirk. “I’m warning you.”

  “I’m sick of your god damn attitude, you little punk.” Charlie shoved him.

  “Charlie!” Susan grabbed Travis before he bumped into the stove. “You could’ve hurt him.”