The Misguided Confession Š 2016 by Dahlia Donovan All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author. The Misguided Confession is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing. www.hottreepublishing.com Editing & Formatting: Hot Tree Editing Cover Designer: Claire Smith ISBN-10: 1-925448-51-7 ISBN-13: 978-1-925448-51-1
Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
Dedication To Gub Gub, who loves me for my quirks and not despite them.
Prologue
Alim Two Years Earlier.
Thank goodness that’s over. Tarek Alim Kader stood on the pavement in London outside of the tall building which housed The Blackbird Security Firm. An old family friend had recently become romantically involved with the owners; his only niece had also begun dating another of the employees. He’d promised her he would pay a visit to them. Crossing his arms over his chest, Alim waited for his driver to pick him up. Seconds later, he jolted forward when someone ploughed into his back. He spun around to steady the red-haired woman who he recognised as another former Royal Marine that now worked with the firm. “Sorry.” She sounded more annoyed than apologetic. “My apologies. Forgive me for so rudely obstructing the exit.” He felt the strangest sensation when meeting her startling green eyes. “Were you hurt?”
Frowning when she failed to answer his question, Alim noticed her eyes straying up and down his body. He straightened his shoulders unnecessarily and barely managed to resist straightening his silk tie. He practically towered over her much shorter frame. Elaine Gibbs. It had taken him a moment to recall her name. They’d met several times, but never been formally introduced beyond a quick hello. He didn’t take her slightly uneasy silence personally. As an autistic, Elaine likely found his presence unsettling. “Will you accept my apology?” He tried to keep his voice low and filled with concern. She fluttered her hand at him, as if to bat away the words. “It’s all right.” Alim couldn’t help noticing the green-and-gold tasselcovered holiday jumper she wore. “How festive.” She gave a snort of obvious amusement, though her eyes still held the shadows of some sadness. “I lost a bet. I’ve got to wear these things all month.” “You don’t enjoy the Christmas spirit?” Alim couldn’t help reaching over to touch one of the dangling tassels on her sleeve. “What would you have received if you won the bet?”
“Peace and quiet.” Elaine seemed to almost lean into his words. It reminded him strongly of his niece’s cat, Minxie. “Peace. And. Quiet.” He glanced over his shoulder to find Ahmed, his security chief and driver had finally pulled up his RollsRoyce. “Would you care to have tea with me?” “Tea?” “Yes, tea.” He found himself smiling brightly at her. “Tea?” Her gaze dropped down to her jumper before shifting over to stare at his own immaculately tailored suit. “With me? Why the bloody hell would you want to do a daft thing like that?” He held his arm out to her while being compelled to speak the unvarnished truth. “Sometimes I find being surrounded by friends and family at the holidays to be the loneliest time of all. Please?” Elaine raised an eyebrow at him in clear disbelief. “Tea’s fine, but you can stow the chivalry.” While she didn’t appear surprised by his chauffeurdriven car, Alim’s decision to take her to a rundown tea shop had certainly shocked her, given her slightly wide eyes and sudden speechlessness. He led her into the grungy building in Camden that looked more suited to life before The Blitz during the Second World War than anything else.
Mrs Witte rushed out to greet him, happily accepting his kiss on the cheek. He shook the hand of her husband warmly. The elderly couple guided them over to a private table, one he always used, in a quaint drawing room off the kitchen. “Friends of yours?” Elaine asked once seated. She’d smiled when he’d barely resisted pulling her chair out for her. Alim couldn’t help the rare flush on his cheeks. “One rather dreary Christmas Eve after my father’s passing, I thought my heart might break from the sadness. Mrs Witte kindly invited me in for a soul-refreshing cup of tea. I’ve returned here every week since.” “The lad’s leaving out an important titbit of our story.” Mrs Witte shuffled into the room with a plate laden with all sorts of faerie cakes, sandwiches, and minced pies. She set it down on the table while her husband followed with the tea. “He saved our little home when a project developer threatened to take it from us. We live above the shop, you see. It’s been in the family for so many years, but we’d fallen on hard times.” Elaine peered at him over her cup of tea, seeming to see him in a new light. “Just a knight in shining Armani?”
“I’m a man who dislikes those who prey on others.” Alim had never been one who enjoyed praise from others. He motioned towards the tray of food to divert the conversation. “I’d recommend the minced pies as they tend to disappear.” The tea and the time evaporated far too rapidly for his liking. Alim had never been so drawn to a woman in his life. The quirky woman, who so clearly refused to allow a neurological difference to keep her from being herself, had captured his interest. “Can I—” Alim paused with his fingers gripping the handle of the door leading out of the restaurant. “I would be honoured to see you again.” “I have to go to this sodding Christmas party at the bosses’ penthouse in a few days.” Elaine shoved her hands into the pockets of her gaudy Christmas jumper. “Doyouwannagowithme?” He blinked at the rapidly spoken question, unsure of what he’d heard. “I’d love to go with you. Would you allow me to pick you up before the party? Or am I being too old-fashioned?” “Prat.” Elaine grinned at him, quite clearly pleased with his ability to roll with her eccentricities. “In for a penny, in for a pound, you can pick me up at seven.”
A year later… An exhausted Alim had been bouncing from country to country, sorting out issues with several of their family businesses. He’d returned to London feeling utterly spent and decided to head out of the city to the estate he owned in Kent. He’d missed Elaine. They’d been together steadily since their Christmas tea. Each date had further cemented his desire to have her in his life. It had started out with meals after work or the occasional weekend excursion. Elaine disliked crowds, a fact that made dating complicated. He’d gone so far as to book out an entire convention as a surprise for Valentine’s Day. The little quirks of Elaine’s tended to make others uncomfortable around her. Alim found them charming. It dragged him deeper into love than he’d ever imagined possible. Travelling for an extended period had only reinforced it for him. He hadn’t been satisfied with phone conversations, particularly when Elaine hated them. Their attachment to each other had grown until they were far too intertwined to
be apart for long. His niece, Alicia, had escaped to his home, but she wouldn’t mind him returning there. The house itself was large enough to allow her whatever privacy she wanted. Alim had no doubts Josh Withers would be with her. The man never seemed to leave his niece alone these days. Striding through the front doors the butler opened for him, Alim paused at what sounded like an immensely large animal racing through one of the nearby rooms. He frowned at his butler, then froze at the loud roar that echoed through the mansion. His heart started to race while he grabbed one of the hunting rifles from a nearby cupboard and ran in the direction of the roar. “No!” Alim stopped short when his niece darted in front of what had to be the largest panther he could ever recall seeing. “Alicia?” “You can’t shoot him, Uncle.” Alicia rested a hand lightly on top of the animal’s head. “Him?” Alim frowned at her with the weapon held tightly in his hand. “Did Minxie suddenly grow while I was away?”
Alicia laughed behind her hand for several minutes while the panther made what sounded like a grumbling sort of snarl. “Play nicely, Joshua.” “Joshua?” Alim stumbled backwards as the dots started to connect in his mind. His arm fell to his side letting the weapon point harmlessly towards the floor. “How is this even possible? Is this a joke? I am not amused, Alicia.” “Change, please?” Alicia stepped to the right, and moments later, his niece’s tall lover was standing beside her. “Isn’t it amazing, Uncle? His clothes come with him— just like magic.” “How?” Alim gripped the edge of the marble table behind him to keep himself on his feet. He placed the rifle on it to avoid any accidents and took a few deep breaths before focusing seriously on the couple before him. “I want explanations from the both of you, and I would like them now.” “He’s taking it better than you did.” Josh grinned at Alicia and pointedly ignored the frustrated glare Alim sent him. “You could offer tea or something. It’s going to be a long bloody conversation.” Alim pinched the bridge of his nose for a brief moment, then waved towards the door that led to one of the smaller
rooms his family often used for meals together. “Shall we?” “Uncle.” Alicia lifted her perfectly sculpted eyebrows with a mischievous twinkling in her eyes. “Lead on.” Alim took his niece by the elbow to guide her into the room with a snarling Josh at his back. He eased her down into a chaise lounge, then ordered tea from the butler hovering by the door. He turned towards the couple. “Now, you will explain everything to me. You will do it now, and then we will deal with this.” Over the course of two hours and several pots of tea spiked heavily with brandy, Josh gave Alim first, the abbreviated version of the history of the Blackbird Security Firm, and once pressed, the complete story. After, Alim dismissed the two with a wave of his hand and sat brooding in front of a roaring fire as he considered everything. Two days went by with Alim barely functioning before he found himself outside Elaine’s flat, banging on her door at three in the morning. She seemed stunned to see him drenched from the rain, shivering and dishevelled. He gripped her door frame and stared unseeing down at her while attempting to put into words the question on his mind.
“Are you a shifter?” Alim followed Elaine inside her flat when she stepped backwards. She scurried off into a room down the hall and returned with a towel. “My thanks. You haven’t answered my question. Are you able to change into a panther?” “You saw Josh? Bloody wanker,” Elaine grumbled. “Will you show me? Please?” Elaine paced in a small circle in her living room before finally nodding. Alim could only stare in shock when she morphed into a stunningly beautiful cougar before his eyes. The powerful animal stalked across the room to sit in front of him. Crouching down beside her, Alim set the now damp towel to the side and reached up a tentative hand to brush his fingers through her fur. She shot up, with her paws on his shoulders, to knock him to the floor. He smiled when she stretched out beside him on the carpet with her head resting on his shoulder. It seemed, in cougar form, Elaine was far more comfortable with him than she let on when she was human. Alim massaged the feline’s neck and shoulders. He relished the vibrating purr that emanated from deep within the animal’s chest.
Alim considered the worry he could feel, which he didn’t think was his own. He rested his hand on top of the cougar’s head. “This changes nothing, Elaine. I hope I’m not over confident when I say I mean to have you always, and for you to have me.” His first meeting with Elaine had been straight out of a romantic comedy. They’d crashed into one another in the Blackbird offices days before Christmas. He could honestly say his interest had been piqued by the awkward redhead from the moment their eyes met. He’d enjoyed the quiet appreciation she had shared with him over something as simple as tea. Her impressive strength in persevering through her difficulties had only served to endear her further to him. He had walked willingly into love, enjoying every second of the journey. Now, if Elaine will only say yes to moving in with me— and maybe even marrying me.
Chapter One
Ezekiel Today A quiet prayer. A twisted soul. And one misguided confession. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Day in and day out, Father Ezekiel Harding used the Anglican faithful’s need for redemption to observe and to hoard away all their guarded secrets. He waited for those with weak wills he could exploit and manipulate, for anyone touched by an unclean nature. His order, the Knights Who Purge by Fire, took particular interest in fulfilling God’s will—ridding the world of the impurities— the holiest of callings. He’d floundered for years amongst the other priests who never seemed to understand that God spoke to him in his darker moments. They failed to grasp the dire state of the
world around them. So many souls were condemned to darkness; the fires would be a blessing for them in the end. The unpredictable drunkard, Janice Williams, had stumbled into the confessional in his chapel for the first time in over a year; quite clearly a gift from above. Her unintelligible sobbing had eventually provided him with a clear message—her daughter was abnormal. Unnatural. A child she’d abandoned early in life, and she now felt immeasurable guilt about her actions or inactions. The daughter had grown up with a family who’d given her a new name, Elaine Gibbs. She would never have come across his radar without direct and divine intervention. His new focus would be to learn all they could about her. Father Ezekiel kindly offered her the only consolation available; his Knights would rid the sinner of her wickedness. Once again, God had provided him with a direction. They would test their mettle against this abomination. God is good.
Chapter Two
Elaine “Fucking. Bloody. Buggering. Wankers. You can all shove it up your arses, and I hope your bollocks shrivel up like prunes.” Elaine launched her mobile phone across the room, where it made an impressive dent in one of the kitchen cabinets in her cramped flat situated on the edge of the charming and eclectic Fitzrovia neighbourhood in London. Shit. She’d be paying to fix that. “Utter pillocks.” She chose not to consider how much of a ginger stereotype she was demonstrating. Breaking her cabinet hadn’t improved her mood. It only made it worse. Up until a few months ago, Elaine had worked for the Blackbird Security Firm, a business ran by two alpha wolves she’d served with in Afghanistan. All the Blackbirds had been shifters working under Steven Samuels in a special ops unit for the Royal Marines, and she had transitioned out of military service after she’d been seriously injured in an explosion and joined their team. The incident had left a permanent gulf in the group, as the men all seemed convinced she might shatter like
fractured glass. She’d been happy enough though until the wankers lied to her face. They’d treated her like a sodding incompetent child, and then swanned off like it was nothing at all. The firm had been working a case for a client, which Elaine should’ve been heavily involved in, both the research and in the field work. They had chosen, as a group, to instead sideline her and lie about the reasons. It had been one time too many for her, being left in the office like a sodding secretary to file her nails or some bloody shit. As a cougar shifter, Elaine never felt the overwhelming compulsion to obey the alpha wolves’ orders. It had made quitting the firm and the pack simple, which actually meant gut-wrenchingly painful. She’d spent the first month or two alternating between raging against their idiocy and sobbing into her pillow at night. She’d likely never know for certain if they doubted her abilities as a soldier because of her gender or neural diversity—her autism had certainly altered other people’s thoughts on her capabilities. Either way, it had been the final straw that signalled the end of her tenure with the firm. Any apologies they intended to make would certainly not be enough to bring her back into the fold.
Her mobile had been ringing incessantly for months. Elaine had dug her way through one voice message after another. Apologies. Demands. Threats. Whingeing. She’d heard it all and never bothered to respond. With her iPhone now embedded in a cabinet, it might be time for a new number and a new mobile. Alim might not appreciate being unable to reach her. Tarek Alim Kader had been one of the only good things the debacle the pack had become had brought into her life. She’d been introduced to him—ran right into him outside the office—over Christmas almost two years ago. She’d felt the immediate connection to her mate, the one destined to be with her. As always, Elaine thanked her lucky stars having a mate as a cougar shifter didn’t mean she’d immediately fall into bed with the man. Mateships took time and careful cultivation, like those orchids her barmy aunt grew in a greenhouse. The bond developed slowly—sex being the final joining, not the initial one. Thank bloody God for that. What if I’d had to bonk the prat the first day we met? I’d have died of embarrassment. He was a wealthy Moroccan businessman, too bloody handsome for his own good. He’d been gifted with a perfectly smooth amber complexion from his father—
Elaine had seen pictures. They had the same dark eyes and jet-black hair. She loved playing with the little hints of grey in his hair, mostly because it kept him from being too perfect. Overwhelmingly perfect compared to Elaine and her chaotic topsy-turvy self. Her wild, ginger hair went everywhere, standing in stark contrast to her pale white skin. Her green eyes could never meet his confidently. Elaine could barely manage daily life at times. She’d managed with the Blackbird firm because they were familiar; now, that was no longer an option. It made life complicated. Her adoptive father had offered her a spot on his fishing boat, but Elaine hadn’t developed her reputation as one of the most skilled cyber trackers in Europe for nothing. She got on average two lucrative contract offers a year. Her loyalty to the pack had always prevented her from accepting, but that wasn’t a problem any longer. She started towards her kitchen, only to pause midstep at the familiar building of energy in her body. It rolled under her skin like ants crawling beneath the surface—the telltale signs of an impending meltdown. It was long overdue, given everything going on in her life at the moment, and something painfully familiar to anyone on the
autism spectrum. She bounced on her heels, violently shaking her hands and gritting her teeth tensely; anything to rid herself of the overwhelming sensations. As always, the meltdown lasted for a good twenty minutes, leaving her feeling wrung out and beyond exhausted. Elaine sank into the largest of her beanbags, turned on Persuasion, which she’d watched so often she knew all the words by heart, and snuggled under a heavy, soft quilt, all in the hopes of staving off the migraine that tended to follow the end of a meltdown. Over the course of the next six hours of watching Jane Austen film adaptations, Elaine’s mind eventually settled itself enough to allow her to shift into her cougar form. It usually helped to calm her nerves even further. The animal half to her soul soothed the raw edges in her brain and allowed her to drift into a restless sleep while Pride and Prejudice played in the background. “Hayati—my life?” Knock. Knock. A long pause. Knock. “Hayati? If you could open the door or at least let me know you are alive inside?” Alim’s obvious concern
brought Elaine out of her catnap. He knocked for a fourth time while she languorously stretched in cougar form. “Elaine?” “Keep a bloody lid on it. Impatient wanker,” Elaine grumbled after she’d shifted to her two-legged human self. She straightened her overly large cardigan and brushed crumbs from her jeans. “Why do I always look I’m one step from living in an alley?” “Are you talking to yourself?” Alim sounded amused on the other side of her front door. “No.” She blinked several times. “Maybe.” “Are….” He paused one word into his question when she yanked the door open. “Ahh, how utterly comforting to find you alive and well. My security team was concerned when you failed to answer my calls.” “Your security team was worried? You are a lying, poncey bastard.” Elaine stepped back to allow him into the flat and gestured towards the kitchen. “My mobile is occupied.” “Your mobile appears to have inserted itself into your cabinet.” He moved closer to gingerly pull the damaged phone free. “What was its crime?”
“The pack.” She kept her answer short, not seeing a reason to go into great detail with him. “I thought we were having tea tomorrow.” Alim brought one hand up to cover his face while he muttered in Arabic, likely cursing her. “Why did you not call me to let me know they were harassing you?” “I’m handling it.” His fingers tightening around the iPhone were the only sign of his frustration at her lack of communication. “Elaine.” “It’s not ringing. I call that handled.” “Elaine.” There were times as an autistic when Elaine knew on some level she’d missed a key part of a conversation. She simply didn’t have the ability to be as aware as neurotypicals were in relationships. Alim seemed beyond exasperated, but the reasons completely eluded her. “I’m sorry?” An apology usually worked in most circumstances. Right? Alim gave a deep chuckle and shook his head ruefully. “Do not apologise when you have no understanding of why you are doing it.”
“My bloody brain is a right pain in the arse.” Elaine rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead vigorously. “What did I miss?” “I was worried and unable to reach you.” He waved off her attempt to apologise. “It matters not.” Lying bastard. “So, want tea?” Elaine attempted to awkwardly manoeuvre them away from whatever her gaffe had been. “Biscuits?” Alim closed the distance between them and took her hands between his own. He watched her contemplatively for the briefest of moments before releasing her to move over to the counter. “Tea sounds wonderful. Perhaps afterwards a new phone?” “Fine. But I’m eating all the biscuits.” Elaine clutched the packet of chocolate-covered digestives to her chest. “You get the chipped mug.” He held his hands up when she waved the biscuit packet at him. “I accept my punishment willingly.” “You make that sound distinctly naughty—perverted prat.” She’d never admit to the fact that her heart beat out a frantic rhythm at the soft smile he sent her way. “Maybe one biscuit.”
Chapter Three
Elaine “How long do you intend to laze about then?” Flora Gibbs, Elaine’s adoptive mum, didn’t approve of lazing about. “Your dad has—” “No.” “Fine, fine. Waste your brilliant mind on those noisy electro-things.” “Video games, Mum, they’re called video games.” Elaine paced the room with her shiny new iPhone pressed to her ear. Talking on the phone always stressed her out. Elaine didn’t have the social skills to keep up with a rapid-fire conversation. Her brain quickly stuttered to a halt while trying to process everything, leaving her floundering while her mum chuntered on about “electro-things.” “Are you listening, lovey?” “No?” “So like your father.” “Mum, I have to go.”
“Janice came round the house yesterday,” Flora spoke hesitantly to give her daughter a chance to think about Janice Williams, her biological mother, a drunk and an allround dreadful human being. “She wants to see you.” Fuck me sideways. “Watch your language, lovey,” Flora scolded her knowingly. Elaine had learned ages ago the words didn’t need to be spoken out loud for her mum to hear them. “You get that from my Sid as well.” “That’s what you get for marrying a fisherman from the dodgy side of town.” Elaine tapped her fingers in an offbeat rhythm against her side. “Why does the drunken twat want to see me now?” “She’s your mother.” “No, she gave birth to me then tossed me to the side the minute she realised I’d not only inherited her lover’s ability to turn into an animal, but his autism as well.” Elaine had endured several emotionally painful conversations with her biological mother in her teens. It had made her appreciate her adoptive parents even more. “The twat treats me like rubbish then comes begging when she’s in need of a quid to buy her bloody booze. I’m not having it, Mum. I don’t give a shit.”
“Language, lovey. I’ll take a spoon to you and my Sid when he’s back from his fishing.” Flora’s admonishment was half-hearted at best. “When are you coming round to visit?” “Next week?” Elaine had been putting off her trip out since telling her boss to bugger off. She didn’t want another “get yourself together, lovey” speech combined with sympathetic looks. Her parents also didn’t know how close to Alim she felt—yet another conversation to avoid at all costs. “Maybe.” Deciding, as always, less was more, Elaine cut the chat short with her mum, who had a tendency to draw out closely guarded bits of information better than any interrogator. She’d have made a brilliant investigator. Even hardened criminals would cave in front of the small, yet mighty Flora Gibbs. Elaine laughed herself silly at the idea of the havoc the woman could wreak on some of the sternest and foulest of her dad’s fishing crew. The hardened fishermen fell into line rather quickly around Flora. It never ceased to amaze. “All right, Gibbs, focus,” Elaine admonished herself after dithering around in her living room for a good fifteen minutes. “Okay, tea.”
Over the years since leaving home, Elaine had rather enjoyed living on her own. She talked to herself a fair amount, which others occasionally found disturbing or at least mildly concerning. It helped her think and tended to keep her thoughts at least slightly organised, albeit not entirely.
Her
mind
tended
to
explode
with
an
overwhelming number of thought bubbles no matter what she did. The ritual of making the perfect cup of tea to go with her dismal attempt at a bacon sarnie brought her mind around to the issue of her biological mother. If Janice had wanted a few quid, she’d have never gone to the Gibbses’ house. The oft-drunk woman would’ve come straight to Elaine, which made her wonder what she wanted. If not money, then what?
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