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Inseparable
NEW YORK TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
Brenda Jackson
MILLS & BOON
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To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.
My one and only. Always.
To everyone who enjoys reading about
those Madarises, this one is especially for you.
To the 1971 Class of William M. Raines High School,
Jacksonville, Florida, on our 40th year class reunion.
And to all Raines Vikings everywhere. Ichiban!
Dear Reader,
I never imagined when penning my first Madaris book that I would still be going strong sixteen years later.
The Madaris family is special, not just because it was my first family series, but because over the years you’ve made them your family. The Madaris men have become your heroes because they represent those qualities you desire in a man—someone whose looks take your breath away, and who has the ability to make you appreciate the fact that you are a woman.
In Inseparable, Luke’s brother Reese takes center stage as a man who believes he has a best friend for life in LaKenna James. But things begin to heat up when she temporarily moves in with him while her condo is being completed. But Reese is a Madaris man through-and-through. And like all Madaris men, once he finds a woman he truly desires, he can’t seem to walk away. But is Kenna the one woman who can claim his heart and soul? And for Kenna, an even bigger question looms…can a hot and heavy attraction ruin a great friendship?
I hope you enjoy reading Inseparable, the seventeenth book in the Madaris Family and Friends series.
All the best,
Brenda Jackson
A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:
but a broken spirit drieth the bones.
—Proverbs 17:22
Contents
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
Prologue
His eyes quickly moved from his plate of food to the flat screen as he followed the closed-captioning scrolling across the bottom of the television. He used the remote to raise the volume to hear the details of the breaking news story. As the anxious reporter stood in front of an abandoned warehouse, he listened with great interest.
“This is the sixth woman in a year’s time who has been murdered in the Twin Cities area in what police believe may be the work of a serial killer. The latest victim was raped and then brutally tortured before being killed in the same manner as the other women. Each body has been found with one shoe missing.” The reporter’s face looked grim, shrouded in disgust and shock. “The killer, who has been dubbed the ‘Shoe Killer’ by police, is still at large and has been linked to similar murders in other states,” the reporter continued. “So far there have been no leads. And police admit they aren’t any closer to arresting a suspect, but they vow to bring whoever is responsible to justice. Personally, I hope so—and soon. Just knowing he’s out there somewhere means that no woman in the Minneapolis–St. Paul area is safe.”
He shook his head at the newscaster and chuckled softly, amused by the reporter’s last line, about no woman being safe. The observation was certainly an understatement.
The Minneapolis police were smart, but he was smarter, which was why he had eluded them for over a year. But then he hated taking chances. And he knew it was just a matter of time before he made a mistake, played a bad hand…like he’d almost done last night.
His tongue flicked across his lower lip as he remembered what had happened. Hell, she hadn’t fought hard enough. Eyes that should have shown fear revealed nothing.
