Catch me when i fall cat.., p.1
Catch Me When I Fall (Catch Me Duet Book 1), page 1
Catch Me When I Fall
Brittany Ann
Copyright © Brittany Ann 2024
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design: Brittany Ann
Editing & Proofreading: Alexa at The Fiction Fix
Formatting: Sam Penrod
Contents
Trigger Warnings
Playlist
For Reference
A note to my readers
. Chapter
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Author's note
About the Author
Titles
Trigger Warnings
This book contains graphic and violent scenes.
Sex. Sexual assault. Murder.
Characters in this book were victims of mental, physical, and emotional abuse.
Mental Health issues such as: PTSD, anxiety, and depression are present in this story.
An attempted suicide is mentioned in this story.
Body shaming is mentioned in this story.
Human Trafficking is mentioned in this story.
If you have an issue with any of these topics, please proceed with caution.
Playlist
Litlost by X Ambassadors (Carrie and Grayson's song)
Everything by Lifehouse
Rain by Sleep Token
Lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid
My Prayer by Normal the Kid
Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead
Happy? by Mudvayne
For Reference
A note to my readers
Dear Readers,
Whether you're a new reader or an old reader, thank you for being here. It means the world to me.
Catch Me When I Fall is a dark bounty hunter romance. Don't be fooled by the pink cover.
That being said, all of my books have dark elements, so please check the Trigger Warnings at the beginning of each book.
All of my books take place within the same universe, and this book is no different.
At the beginning of this story, you will meet some characters from my other series.
You don't have to read any of my other books to read Catch Me When I Fall.
The FMC, Carrie Hale, is from The Burnout Series, but she isn't directly involved with any of those stories.
There is a character map at the beginning of this story for you to reference if you wish.
Catch Me When I Fall is a powerful story and involves some heavy topics.
Grayson and Carrie have been through so much and the love they find within each other is magical.
I hope you love them just as much as I do.
Love,
Brittany Ann
To the women who've been told their worth is determined by the number on the scale.
Fuck the scale and fuck anyone who has ever told you that.
You're beautiful.
Every single inch of you.
Prologue
Carrie
“I don’t know what’s she going to do now.”
“Honestly, what can she do?”
“Nothing. She’s going to be in here the rest of her life.”
A moment of silence followed as I kept my breathing steady, eyes closed.
The nurses thought I was sleeping, that the drugs they gave me an hour ago were now in my stomach, dissolving and seeping into my system.
They weren’t.
The pills were under my pillow, stuffed into a Ziploc bag I’d swiped from Detective—now Chief—Amara Harrison when she came to visit.
“She was pretty once.”
Great, now they’re talking about my weight gain.
“Yeah, and her husband?” The nurse made sound of appreciation. “He was fine.”
The other nurse hummed in agreement. “It’s just so sad, ya know?”
“That she’s going to be rotting in this bed for the rest of her life? Her husband’s death? Or the part about her father being a pedophile?”
There it is.
“All of it. She was the princess of this city and now…” The woman trailed off as my throat started to burn.
“Yeah,” the other nurse sighed.
I heard the door close and I turned my head into the pillow.
Holding my breath, I pushed the nightmare to the back of my mind. For the first time in over a year, I was thinking clearly about one thing and one thing only.
I wasn’t going to rot in here.
Once the door closed, I sat up, my eyes scanning the darkened room I’d been sequestered in for the last ten months. As far as rehabilitation rooms went, I’d consider this first class. I had a bar-covered window with a view of the pond outside, a twin-sized bed, a small bathroom with a standing shower, and a short bookcase that held three books.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Paris Wife
To Kill a Mockingbird
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tossed my legs over the side of the bed as I slid off, my bare feet greeting the cold tile. Without looking back at the bed I’d been rotting in for the last chapter of my life, I moved over to the small dresser, grabbing one of the four outfits I had.
Leggings and a Cardinals hoodie.
I pulled the sleeping gown over my head before tugging the leggings up my legs, trying to ignore how much muscle tone I’d lost. Once I had the hoodie on, I gently pulled the dresser away from the wall to reach the small backpack I had hiding behind it.
It held three bottles of water, two oranges, and a handful of granola bars, and I stuffed the rest of my clothes inside before turning to the books. Zipping the backpack closed, I moved into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, pulled my mess of blonde curls into a bun with the only ponytail holder I had, and then went to the toilet. As quietly as I could, I lifted the back lid and set it on top of the bowl.
As I peeked over the side, my heart skipped a beat as relief washed over me.
It was still there.
I grabbed the small Ziploc bag from the water that contained my new bank card, some cash, and a burner phone. It had taken me weeks to get them, but once Amara had given me my laptop a month ago, it made things a lot easier. My father had given me a trust fund when I’d turned eighteen, and he assumed I blew it all.
I didn’t.
I saved every penny, and continued saving well into adulthood.
I was saving for my happy ending. I never thought I’d end up saving to survive a nightmare.
I fixed the toilet, walked back into the room, and shoved my feet into the shitty tennis shoes I was provided with six months ago.
Then, I went to stand in front of the door.
The light in the hall was off, which meant the nurses were at the nurses’ station, scrolling on their phones. It was a routine, one I was very familiar with. I twisted my neck to look at the unmade bed in the moonlight, taking in the thin white sheets, lumpy mattress, and flat pillow.
Like hell I was rotting here.
I looked back to the door and stepped forward.
I opened the door, stepping out into the hall. I looked left and right—the coast was clear.
I walked down the hall, pulling the hood up and ducking my head.
I made a right, heading down to the employee entrance. Once at the door, I entered in the code I’d memorized two days ago. The door unlocked with a soft click, and my eyes stung at the music of it.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the night.
Then, I pulled out the burner phone and ordered a taxi, meeting it at the local pizza joint down the street.
The taxi took me to the airport and I paid the kind driver in cash.
Once inside the airport, I walked up to the counter and purchased a ticket for the first plane out of the St. Louis.
Eight hours later, I landed in Oregon, leaving my old life behind.
St. Louis was nothing but a memory now.
Chapter 1
Grayson
Leggings and a Cardinals hoodie.
“Fuck, I thought I was done with St. Louis,” I muttered, bringing my hand up to rub my jaw as I stared at my computer screen. I was staring at a photo of a woman wearing a fucking Cardinals hoodie, hands in the front pocket, backpack over her shoulder, head bent to conceal her face. With a sigh, my eyes lifted back up to t
I looked up to find Hayes standing in the doorway. “He has called four times now,” my right-hand told me, his voice laced with concern as his green eyes assessed me, his jaw tight.
I looked back to the screen, my eyes lingering on the security camera image of the woman walking out of a rehab center in the middle of the night. “He on the line?” I asked, looking back to Hayes.
He nodded once, doing nothing to try and hide the concern on his face. That was just who Hayes was: cautious.
“Put him through,” I ordered, rising from my desk and pucking the phone from its base before I faced the window behind my desk. A second later, the phone buzzed, ringing in my hand.
After the second ring, I hit the button and brought the phone to my ear.
“Mr. Jones,” I greeted, putting my other hand into the pocket of my slacks, my eyes scanning the city of Charlotte.
“Mr. Grayson,” the Oasis leader greeted.
Oasis was the underground street racing hub of St. Louis and the key to the Italian Mafia’s gun and drug business. Jeremy Jones, along with his three partners, ran Oasis, but there was something else Mr. Jones was in control of: the Crew, a street organization that handled things when law enforcement couldn’t.
This all translated to Jeremy Jones being one of the most powerful men in the Midwest.
“Your email was…” I trailed off, looking for the right word. Truthfully, I didn’t know how to explain it. It was the last thing I’d expected to get. A year had passed since Oasis needed my help, and with their power, I figured they’d never need me again.
“I needed you to understand how serious this situation is,” he replied, sighing with exhaustion.
“Do you think the target is in danger?” I asked, looking down to the street below, watching the mid-day traffic.
“I don’t know.”
Interesting. “Has she received any threats?”
“She’s…” Jeremy trailed off before sighing. “Look, Mr. Grayson—Carrie has been through a lot this last year. Her life was turned upside down. She lost her husband. Anger and depression almost got to her.”
I blinked, looking at the city again. “You’re saying this woman is suicidal?” I asked, my voice level and void of any empathy.
I didn’t have any—especially not for a stranger.
This was just a job and, if I chose to take it, it needed to stay that way.
“Yes.” The word was filled with sadness and worry.
“I see.” I turned back to my desk, looking at the picture of her again, frustrated that I couldn’t see her face. I could tell a lot about a person with one look at their face, into their eyes.
“The only danger is herself,” he finally admitted.
I refrained from sighing. “This isn’t a job for me, Mr. Jones. You should leave it to the authorities,” I told him, ready to pull the phone from my ear and end in the call, leaving St. Louis and all the wild shit that came with it in the past.
“Please.”
I froze, my muscles tensing in a way they hadn’t in long, long time.
He was begging.
Jeremy Jones, the King of St. Louis himself, was begging.
My jaw tightened as I bent my head, eyes closing. The hand in my pocket balled into a fist as I heard my office door open once more. Snapping my head up, I found my team, all four of them, coming in silently, filing into my space as Jeremy lingered on the other end of the phone in silence, waiting for me to grant him some sort of twisted mercy.
“Why do you want me to find her?” I asked finally as my men watched me with guarded, cautious eyes.
“She’s family,” he said softly.
“I get that, Mr. Jones, but as I stated, the authorities would be better suited—”
“You’re the only person in the world who can,” he said, cutting me off with dark urgency in his voice.
I looked over to Hayes.
We’d spent years building what we had now, and the last thing I needed was for it to all go to shit over some woman who’d escaped from a mental health facility.
After I’d stared at Hayes for a few more moments, he gave me a single nod.
Fuck it all to hell.
“I’ll be St. Louis tomorrow morning.”
If Jeremy had given a sigh of relief, I didn’t hear it. All I got was, “Oasis. Ten AM.”
The call ended, and I set the phone back on its base before bracing my hands on the desk, staring down at the photo on my computer screen, frustrated I couldn’t see the woman’s face.
“Thought Red Snake was done with St. Louis, Gray?” Dominic asked, breaking the tense silence.
I did too.
Fuck, I really did.
There was something about that city, something pure. Purity didn’t belong anywhere near me, and I vowed that after helping Oasis last year, I would stay out of it.
“I’m going to shoot Mags in the fucking foot the next time I see him,” I muttered. Mags, an old buddy from the Marines and a dear friend, was now a cowboy at Hallow Ranch. A few years ago, his boss called me wanting me to find his bull riding brother—which led me to Oasis.
Now, here I was, dragged into this fucking mess.
“You shoot a Hallow Ranch cowboy, Denver Langston will send you straight to hell without even the fucking Grim Reaper knowing,” Dominic said, his voice firm.
Denver Langston wouldn’t think twice about killing someone who hurt those he cared about.
We were cut from the same cloth.
Twisting my neck, I looked over to Dominic, my lips twitching. “Might as well kick your ass out and send you to Hallow Ranch if you love that fucking place so much.”
He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “Place is quiet.”
Quiet was something none of us had ever really experienced; Hallow Ranch was the exception.
The others grunted and muttered agreements before Hayes got us back on track. “I can take it,” he offered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can stay here, finish the Goodman case.”
My spine straightened at his offer, my body reacting on its own. My eyes dropped down to the picture again as something stirred inside me. “No. I’ll handle this one,” I told him firmly before looking at the others. “You boys stay here. Once I get a lead, I’ll let you know if we need to head to Denver early.”
Dominic grunted from the corner, his eyes on the city outside.
Ash shot me a look. “Maybe grumpy ass over here will be somewhat more bearable when we’re in the fucking Rockies.”
I ran a hand through my hair, my muscles aching from the brutal training session I put them through this morning. I walked around to the front of my desk and leaned against it, crossing my ankles and folding my arms over my chest. I looked at each of my men, grateful as hell for each one of them. Then, I gave it to them.
“Hayes, I’ll need you to run point on the Goodman case. Finish that shit. Whatever you find, send it over to Charlotte PD,” I ordered. Hayes Michell was my right hand, a fifteen-year veteran of the Air Force. We met three years ago, and he helped me build Red Snake from the ground up.
I looked over to Dominic, Red Snake’s weapons specialist. “Finalize the supply and make the order.” His blue eyes flashed as he nodded once.
My eyes found Jake’s brown ones as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Get me everything on her.” I pointed to the screen. “What you don’t get, I’ll get from Jones tomorrow. I don’t doubt this woman has some record sealed.”
My tech guy nodded, his jaw hard. “Understood.”
Finally, I looked over to Ash, Red Snake’s mission coordinator. “Get me on a fucking plane.”
The playboy smirked. “On it, boss.”
All these men were my ride or dies. We’d take bullets for each other, and we made damn good money doing it, finding people who didn’t want to be found. We worked hard for what we had and the reputation we’d built.
I just hoped that taking this case wouldn’t put any of that in jeopardy.
The day baseball star Dean Connors was found dead in his apartment in Chicago was the day I almost died—for the fourth time. While Dean had faked his death, I cheated it—numerous times. First in the Marines, and then in my line of work.
