Painful Consequences Read online

  Painful Consequences

  By

  Breanna Hayse

  Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Breanna Hayse

  Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Breanna Hayse

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Hayse, Breanna

  Painful Consequences

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Razzle Dazzle Design and Bigstock/VSO

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Chapter One

  “You are a spoiled little brat, and there is no way you’re living here with me!”

  “I am not spoiled! I am desperate. Where am I supposed to go if you don’t take me in?” the return shout echoed through the room.

  Brett rolled his eyes, pointing to the door. “Try growing up and getting a job. Mom and Dad didn’t do you any favors by giving you everything you ever wanted and never telling you no.”

  “Please,” hot tears filled the eyes of Brett’s twenty-six-year-old twin sister, Brittany, “let me stay just for a little while. I promise I won’t get in your way. You won’t even know that I’m here.”

  “I said no. Go home.” Brett crossed his arms, a determined expression on his rugged face.

  “I… I can’t,” Brittany whispered, looking at the floor.

  “Why not?”

  “Daddy threw me out.”

  “What? What the hell did you do this time? How did you get here?” Brett was astounded. For his father to make such a move, she had to really have screwed up badly. As much as the father and daughter fought, he still catered to her every whim and had never denied the girl anything.

  “I got high and then was busted shoplifting. He gave me enough money for a cab and one hot meal. I guess he thought I would go to Stephen for help like always,” Brittany admitted quietly, tracing the carpet with her foot.

  Brett’s face turned the most unbelievable shade of purple. He was speechless. Brittany stood silently waiting for the explosion. “Get out of here,” he finally growled, opening the door. “I will not have a pothead or a thief living under my roof.”

  “But I’m your sister!” Real tears started to pour.

  “My sister does not steal, do drugs, or blatantly ignore the rules of society. My sister is a nice, polite, well-mannered lady who I used to like.”

  “Fine! You’re an asshole just like Dad! Go to hell!” Brittany screamed, slamming his front door as she stormed out.

  Brett rubbed his forehead, picking up the phone and dialing his parent’s home. His mother answered. “Hey, Mom. Guess who just showed up at my doorstep wanting a place to stay. Wanna tell me what’s up, without the dramatic prose?”

  “Oh my God! Brett! Is she alright?”

  “She seems to be okay. What exactly happened? She and Dad fight constantly. How is this any different?”

  “She pushed him too far this time,” his mother started to cry. “She was arrested and taken to the police station. In the past, it was your brother who had bailed her out, but Stephen was not in town. So, your father received the call instead. He picked her up, and when he told her that she needed to get a job or leave, she began to throw anything breakable she could find at him.”

  “Damn. That’s not like her. Is Dad okay?”

  “He’s fine. She has bad aim, despite him being a large target. To make things worse, he found out that this was her third offense. The judge called him personally and read him the riot act about putting her in line. She is now under court orders to go attend meetings. Brett, he even changed the locks!”

  “Damn… he must be pissed. Dad does not like to be embarrassed by anybody, no matter the reason.”

  “It more than embarrassed him. I really think this crushed him, honey. I have never seen him feel so… so powerless. This is his baby girl, and she failed him. The last time I saw him this hurt was when you…” she paused, changing the subject. “Is she there?”

  “Um, no… I tossed her out on her keister. Mom, I’m a cop. I can’t have her stay with me and do drugs. You know that. Especially with my background. I can't risk my career.”

  “She needs help. You of all people know what that feels like. She’s your twin sister. The two of you shared everything since the time you were conceived. Don’t let her do this to herself. If not for her, then for me. Please help her,” his mother begged.

  Brett felt a twinge of guilt. He was quiet for a few moments, knowing his mother was waiting anxiously for an answer. “Alright, Mom. But she had better follow my rules or she’s out of here. She gets one chance,” Brett said firmly. He suddenly realized how much he sounded like his father and how the man ran his business. Poor Brittany.

  “Thank you, son. Thank you so much. I’ll be able to sleep knowing my baby is safe.”

  “Just do me a favor and don’t have any contact with her for a while. She needs to know she can’t manipulate you or Dad into getting her own way, okay?”

  “Of course. Let me send you money…”

  “No, Mom. If I am going to take her on as my responsibility, then I will also have to teach her how to live within my limits. I appreciate the offer, but you know how I feel about handouts.”

  “You are as stubborn as your father,” Helena Wallace sighed. “Very well. But promise to call me if you need anything.”

  “I promise, Mom. Love you. And don’t worry,” Brett said grimly. “I will get her straightened out one way or another.”

  Brett hung up the phone and glanced around the house. Truthfully, he could use some help, and Brittany was a fairly decent cook, having followed their private chef in the kitchen since the day the elderly Italian first allowed her to make a salad. With an exasperated sigh, Brett grabbed his wallet and keys and left to find his wayward twin.

  * * *

  Brittany Wallace sat dejectedly in a booth and sipped a cup of coffee as she tried to decide her next move. With only twenty dollars left in her pocket, she was terrified. As the pampered only daughter of the wealthy and well-known Carmen H. Wallace, Beverly Hills bank tycoon, she had never been on her own or lacked for anything. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and her greatest skills were limited to spending her daddy’s money and planning large parties. Disbelief and anger still rankled her that her twin brother actually refused her a place to stay! She could not believe how selfish and mean he had become since venturing out on his own with the silly idea of fending for himself. The idiot even refused their father’s offer of a monthly stipend to supplement the cost of living in the pricey neighborhood that he resided in.

  Brittany considered her other option, which was to present herself to their eldest brother, Stephen, and request his assistance. Like their father, Stephen would rarely deny her anything and had learned how to quiet her tantrums with gifts. The only problem with Stephen was that his wife Rina made no secret about her intense dislike for Brittany, stating to all who had ears to hear that the younger woman was a bad influence and a waste of anyone’s time and energy. The nasty shrew also refused to allow her three children to have any prolonged exposure to their spoiled, rude, and willful aunt. Brittany felt disgust as she pondered over how Stephen behaved when it came to confronting and standing up to his bitch wife. The weak-willed man allowed her do anything she wanted as long as she did not interfere with hi
s business, which, of course, meant more money for the gold-digging frump. Brittany felt her throat tighten as she thought of her niece and nephews and how they would grow up to be as judgmental and sour as their mother. It was no wonder Stephen spent the majority of his time working his real estate ventures instead of staying home with his family. She could not imagine living like that!

  “Excuse me, miss, but are you alright?” a warm male voice said from above her. Brittany glanced up into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. The face they were attached to was just as pleasant, with strong angled features, generous lips, and a small cleft at the base of his chin, his short, well-groomed dark blonde hair begging to have fingers running through it.

  “I’m fine, thank you. Just having a bad day,” she lied, not wanting to be bothered. Not even by this handsome stranger wearing a light jacket that indicated he worked for the sheriff’s department.

  “I'm sorry to hear that. Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asked, sitting before she responded.

  “It doesn't appear that you are giving me a choice. By all means, please feel free to make yourself comfortable,” Brittany sighed, seeing he was already settling in her booth as he signaled for the waitress to bring him some coffee.

  “So, why is a pretty little thing like you having a bad day?” he asked, eyeing her carefully as he sipped from his mug, studying the strong, exotic features of the unhappy woman. “You don't look like you are from around these parts. I mean,” he shifted in the booth, “I can't recall seeing any of the movie stars and celebrities who lived in this area coming to visit the local diner.”

  Brittany flushed under the scrutiny of his expert eyes, knowing that she looked out of place in her designer jeans, silk blouse, high heels, heavy makeup, and sparkling jewelry that any discerning individual would be able to conclude was genuine. Clearing her throat as she raised her eyebrow, Brittany indicated her discomfort with his interruption of her sulking.

  “I am assuming you spend quite a lot of time in this diner to draw that conclusion,” she returned.

  “Good point. I have only been in town for a week and have been coming to this joint daily because I hate to cook,” he grinned, his sparkling white smile startling her. He was certainly a handsome specimen! “Does this mean that you are a movie star? Should I get your autograph?”

  “No, I am neither a movie star or what one would consider a celebrity. Tell me, do you make coming up on unsuspecting women like a bull in a china shop a habit, Lt. Simms?” she asked haughtily, pointing to the name badge upon his jacket and noting the bars on the collar.

  “Sorry, ma'am. Reed Simms, Los Angeles Sheriff's Department,” he chuckled softly, formally introducing himself as he reached out to shake her hand. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, and I apologize for my rudeness. And you?”

  “Brittany Wallace. Just visiting and leaving shortly,” she shook his hand and holding back a sigh as her small palm was engulfed in his large, warm grip. A grip that momentarily let her forget her situation.

  “Wallace? I thought I saw that name on a community roster for a sergeant in the unit. Any relation?”

  “Lucky you. It’s my twin brother, Brett. He lives just down the road,” Brittany interrupted, pulling her hand away abruptly. She looked down to stir her coffee and stare absently into the dark liquid as her anger and disappointment towards her twin returned.

  “And he’s letting you have a bad day all alone? What kind of brother is that?”

  “A stupid one. Come on, Britt. Let’s go home. We need to talk,” another male voice stated from behind him.

  Reed glanced up at the serious expression on Brett’s face. He stood to shake his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, sergeant. I’m Reed Simms. We haven't had a chance to meet yet.”

  “So you are the new lieutenant everyone has been talking about! From Bakersfield, right? The captain mentioned that you were going to be living in this area and wanted to run the rehab program. Welcome to the unit,” Brett said pleasantly, shaking the man's hand firmly.

  “That captain of yours is something else. He practically dragged me here bodily when he found out that I was interested in helping with local groups. I got the impression that it was a rarity.”

  “That is an understatement. Our program is pretty big and has been known to have some very challenging individuals, including celebrities. They like to hide out here, as you can well imagine. We have to bribe most officers to participate, and none of them want to do it in their hometown. You have no idea how relieved I am that you are interested. I’ve been operating this town's group alone for the past year. Looking forward to some help. Love the guys, but damn, I need a break now and then!”

  “Well, you got it. What is your assignment?”

  “Mainly general patrol. The captain thinks my hands are already full with handling the program and court assignments here. Like I said, these people tend to be a bit stubborn because of the area’s influence. Some need serious hand-holding. You?”

  “Missing persons and pretty ladies. I ran into this sweet young thing a few minutes ago and found her drowning her sorrows in a cup of cold coffee. She seemed to be needing some company, so I invited myself to sit with her. I hope you don’t mind,” Reed commented, glancing at the small, dark haired woman who refused to acknowledge her brother’s presence.

  “What my spoiled rotten, sulking sister really needs is a good, old-fashioned spanking,” Brett growled. Brittany felt her face heat up with embarrassment upon hearing his statement to this stranger. “She managed to push everyone past their limits today and got herself thrown out of the house. Now, if you will please excuse us, I’ve got to get her home and settled in.”

  “I am not going anywhere with you. I am just fine here,” the woman snapped, ignoring the raising of Reed's eyebrow.

  Brett reached for her elbow. “Stop being so stubborn. Let’s go, Brittany. I promised Mom that you are going to be staying with me for a while until we figure out what to do with you. And I will not be having any more attitude, or I promise that you will be feeling my belt on your backend.”

  “I said that I’m not going anywhere with you,” Brittany pouted angrily. She pretended to be unbothered by the empty threat that she knew Brett issued simply to embarrass her into compliance in front of the handsome lieutenant. Hell, he had made that same one for years, threatening her with a good paddling for her horrendous behavior. She did, however, have the decency to flush again when she heard Reed chuckle.

  “Miss Brittany, it might behoove you to listen to your brother. He sounds like he might be serious about his warning to you.”

  “There is nothing in this world that requires me to follow his orders. In fact,” she barked defensively, “there is nothing that requires I follow anyone’s orders.”

  “I don’t really agree with you there. Maybe it’s a man thing, but if you were my sister, I would expect you to mind me without arguing. Your bro here seems a bit annoyed with you,” Reed said lightly.

  Brittany glared at him. “Good thing I’m not your sister, then, isn’t it?” she hissed.

  “My, we have a little temper, don’t we?” Reed chuckled again, “Sergeant Wallace? Will I see you at work?”

  “Probably more than you care to. I should be on your team. If you feel up to it, we can drive in together. Our station has the worse parking and the price of gas is disgusting. And please, call me Brett,” he said, again solidly shaking the man’s hand as he readied to depart. The two Wallace's watched in silence as the tall man stood and headed towards the door, his stride strong and confident. He stopped only to turn and wink at Brittany before exiting, and Brittany felt her face heat once more at his gaze.

  Brett shook his head as he sat down across from his sister, occupying the bench that had just previously housed Reed. Clasping his hands together and leaning forward, Brett waited quietly for Brittany to finally lift her stubborn chin and acknowledge his presence.

  “Leave me alone,” she muttered. �
�I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

  “Yeah well, too bad. I’m sorry I was so hard on you. I talked to Mom; she’s really worried. So am I. We need to get you some help, Britt. I didn’t know things had gotten this bad for you.”

  “I don’t need any help. I’m fine on my own. Dad over-reacted, like usual.”

  “Really? I am trying to figure out how you interpret the word ‘fine’. You’re essentially homeless, broke, and three times busted for drugs. The only reason you weren’t put in the slammer is because Dad owns this town and I'm in law enforcement. Good thing for you that his golfing buddy, the judge, considered this sentence an act of professional courtesy.”

  “Professional courtesy? He is just worried that I will be a topic of discussion on the golf course. I mean, seriously! What does Daddy care anyway? I’m an embarrassment to him and bad for business. You know how he is when it comes to appearances and making more money. He is so full of shit, it's disgusting.”

  “He loves you. So do I. And Mom is sick with worry. Starting now, kiddo, you are going to attend meetings and work on your sobriety. You can stay with me as long as you need to, under the condition you’re clean and sober and that you do your share of the chores.”

  “You sound just like Dad!”

  “No. I am actually going to make you do things, not just talk out of my ass about it.”

  “You are a real jerk, know that?”

  “I know, you keep telling me that,” Brett said with a patient sigh.

  “I’m not going to any meetings. They’re full of weirdoes and freaks.”

  “They are full of normal people just like us who are struggling with drugs and alcohol. There is one at seven tomorrow night with the core group that I run. It is a good place to begin.”

  “I’m not going.”

  “There is no discussion. You’re under court orders, now. It’s this or jail. This is your last chance, Britt. Don’t blow it.”