Captivated Souls (The Beautiful Souls Collection Book 3)

by Ellie Wade

  Alma turns to Leo, and continues, “I am so proud of you today and every day. You’re going to do amazing things in this life, Leo Harding. I am so grateful to be on this journey with you. Cheers to the future.”

  “Cheers,” we say in unison, clinking our glasses together.

  “I love you,” Leo whispers to Alma before kissing her lips.

  “What are you going to do next?” Ethan asks Leo, taking a large handful of potato chips and setting them on his plate.

  “I have no fucking idea.” Leo chuckles.

  The food gets passed around the table, and I take some of everything, as it all looks delicious.

  “You’re still volunteering at that place with the kids, right?” Cat asks Leo.

  “The Boys and Girls Club,” Leo says. “Yeah, it’s a cool organization, and they do a lot of great things for the kids in the community, but there are definitely some aspects I’d change to make it better.”

  “You could start your own organization. I could help you,” Alma suggests.

  “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.” Leo takes a bite of his burger.

  We talk about what Leo would do differently to help the kids, and other volunteering opportunities in the community. Cat suggests that Leo should work with animals and maybe start a kitten sanctuary, an idea he immediately shoots down.

  “Aw, but kittens,” Quinn chimes in.

  “Yeah, maybe someday Alma and I can rescue one from a shelter, but running a whole cat sanctuary isn’t my thing.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

  “I got it,” Ethan says dramatically. “You and me…video game developers.”

  “Also, not my skill set, but I can agree to several days of gaming to celebrate that fact that we don’t have to sit through any more college classes.”

  “Cheers to that.” Ethan holds up his glass, and Leo taps it with his. “I think that new one we preordered months ago comes out next week.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It does.”

  The conversation changes from Leo’s future to Cat’s latest modeling campaign to Amos’s prestigious summer internship to Alma and Quinn gasping in horror over the fact that I’ve never read a single Harry Potter book or watched any of the movies.

  “Seriously? But you need to read the books,” Alma urges.

  “Or at least watch the movies,” Quinn says, quickly turning her head toward Alma’s small gasp. “Yes, Alma, I know the books are better, but the movies are good, especially for a book-to-movie adaptation, so if he’s not going to read them, watching them would be the next best option. Right?”

  “I suppose,” Alma grumbles, and her passion for a book about wizards makes me laugh.

  “I don’t really have time for reading or watching TV, for that matter. I’m always busy with friends or working. If I have free time, I prefer to be outside.”

  Cat nods. “Yeah, I can see that. You seem like someone who enjoys being outdoors. I, myself, prefer to be inside in the air-conditioning with no bugs.”

  “You know what’s really fun to do outside?” Alma asks me.

  “What?”

  “Reading. There’s nothing better than reading a good book outside on a beautiful day.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I laugh.

  She shrugs. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  The rest of the meal passes with easy conversation and laughter. I’m happy that Leo has a great group of people who love and support him. As far as friends go, his circle is pretty cool. Not everyone has this quality of people in their lives. In this aspect, Leo’s lucky.

  I grab the last dish from the table. The others have cleared the rest of the food and taken it inside. I turn toward the house, the large bowl with remnants of what was macaroni salad in my arms, and almost knock Quinn over.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come back out,” I say.

  “It’s okay. No damage done.” She shoots me a wink.

  Cat comes out onto the deck. “Ah, Alma was just asking about this. I’ll take it in so she can wash it.” She takes the bowl from my grasp and leaves Quinn and me alone on the deck.

  She places her hands in the back pockets of her jean shorts. “So you’re outdoorsy, huh? What types of things do you like to do outside?”

  “Ride my bike,” I answer.

  “Like BMX?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “Motorcycle.”

  She nods. “Duh. I should’ve known that. I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. My parents think they’re death traps.” She covers her mouth. “Ugh, I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “It’s fine.” I lean back against the deck railing. “They definitely can be. But so can everything else. I had a cousin once who almost died choking on an onion. So by that account, I should’ve avoided the salad at dinner with its death-causing onions.”

  “I should’ve avoided that salad for the mere fact that it did a number on my breath.” She scrunches her nose.

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sure your breath is just fine.”

  She bends her index finger back and forth in a come here motion. “I can prove it to you.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Smart. Keep your distance.” The corner of her mouth tilts up. “Well, I see your point about the world being dangerous. So just do what makes you happy.”

  “Yeah, for the most part.”

  “I think I’m a live-in-the-moment type of girl. Maybe someday you can take me for a ride on that bike of yours.”

  The statement is innocent enough, but it carries an air of a challenge.

  “Maybe.” I shoot her a smile and head inside, knowing that there is no way in hell I’ll ever invite Quinn on the back of my bike.

  The last thing I want is her body up against mine on the back of the Harley.

  At least it should be.

  The fact that it’s not is the problem.

  Chapter 7

  Ollie

  “So who is this girl? Something serious?” Clementine asks from where she sits atop my work bench, her legs swinging off the side.

  I shake my head, tightening the bolt beside the alternator in Quinn’s Jeep. “I told you. She’s a friend.”

  Clementine starts riffling through a toolbox at her side, picking up metal pieces and dropping them back into the box with a clang. “I don’t think so.”

  Standing upright, I set down my wrench and snatch the towel to its side and wipe my hands. “First of all, stop.” I motion toward my toolbox. “You may not realize this, but those pieces were organized.”

  “They all look the same to me.” She drops a bolt into the box and shrugs as the metal clashes with another.

  “Well, they’re not. And secondly.” I raise a brow. “Why are you here?”

  Her mouth falls open, and she grabs the empty water bottle at her side and throws it at me. “Rude,” she huffs.

  I catch the bottle and release a laugh. “It’s a valid question.” I smile.

  “You’re just deflecting because you don’t want to tell me about your new girlfriend. I know you, and you don’t fix cars, and clearly, this one belongs to a girl. You told me before that you don’t date, so I’m curious.”

  “Clem, I told you. She’s a friend. And seriously, you hang out with me too much. You should be making friends at school. What about joining a sorority?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She rolls her eyes, smacking a wad of bubble gum in her mouth.

  “Okay, then chess club.”

  She blows a bubble and sucks it back into her mouth after it pops. “I don’t play chess.”

  “You know what I mean. You need to find some people you like, make friends. Spend time with someone other than me. Your college experience should be more than going to class and sitting in a garage watching me.”

  “Are you sick of me?” she asks. She forces her voice to be steady, but I hear the doubt in it.

  “No, of course not. You’re always welcome here…I mean, now that we’ve established that you car
ry a total lack of respect for boundaries,” I tease. “I love seeing you, and you know I’m always here for you. I just want you to be happy, and I feel like you’re hiding from life a little. In my experience, when someone hides, there are deeper issues at play. Are you okay?” I pin her with a serious stare. “Are you using?”

  She looks down and shakes her head. “No.”

  “Clem.” I step toward her. “What’s going on?”

  When she lifts her face, the unshed tears filling her eyes threaten to break my heart. The sadness radiating from her is palpable. “I haven’t used,” she states solemnly. “But I’ve wanted to. Really bad. I even asked around and found out where a dealer lived and drove to his house. I sat in my car for an hour, talking myself out of knocking on his door. I drove to his fucking house, Ollie!” A rogue tear trails down her cheek. “I hate it here. I hate the people. They’re shallow and clueless. Either they’re completely immature and living their life to attend the next best party or they’re nerds and want to study chemistry like it’s the most important thing in life. No one gets me, and I have no interest in getting to know any of them.”

  I pat her knee. “I get it. I do, but you have to remind yourself that these people haven’t gone through the things that you have. You can’t blame them for not understanding. That’s what I’m here for, and the others at group. We get you. The others…they’re there for your new chapter of life, the one where you get to leave all the torment behind and be happy.”

  “It’s so hard.” She sighs.

  “I know, and it might always be. You have to find something to give you purpose, joy. Right now, you’re going through the motions without a clear destination. Let’s take your major, for example.” I quirk a brow.

  “General studies.” Her voice is sheepish.

  “Exactly.” I release a laugh. “What does that degree actually mean? What does it qualify you to do with your life?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And therein lies the problem. You know my story about fixing that first bike and finding a sense of calm and purpose while doing so?”

  She nods.

  “That hobby changed my life. It made me happy. You have to figure out what makes you happy, and I can help you.”

  “How?”

  “Well, we’ll start by volunteering at different places until we find something that resonates with you. Then you can choose a degree that will allow you to follow your passion.”

  Clementine nods, a sad smile on her face. “Okay.”

  Lifting my arms, I take hold of hers and squeeze gently. “Promise me that you’ll stay clean. Don’t drive to the dealer’s house again. Stay away from people who use. Even one time, one use could kill you. You know that, right? It’s not worth your life. You’ve come too far.”

  “I know,” she whispers.

  I pull her into my chest, and she hugs me tight. “Promise me, Clem.”

  “I promise.”

  “Someday, you’re going to be happy. Maybe you’ll be married and have a family. You’ll be working in a career that gives you purpose. You’ll have a beautiful life and be so grateful for it. And then you’ll understand what this fight was for. It’s hard to see it now, but trust me…it will be so worth it. Never give up on yourself and the life you deserve. Keep fighting.”

  “I will.” She sniffs, and leans back, swiping her hands across her cheeks to wipe away her tears. “One day at a time, right?”

  “One day at a time.” I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You know what? I have about five more minutes, and then I’ll be done with the Jeep. You can hang out with Saki for a little bit and then follow me to drop off Quinn’s car at her house. Then when we get back, we can go for a run.”

  Clem grumbles.

  “Okay, star high school athlete.” I shake my head. “Getting back to running every day will help. Endorphins and all that.”

  “I suppose.” She hops off my workbench. “I’ll be inside.”

  I watch Clem until she closes the door to the mudroom behind her and disappears into the house. The moment she’s out of sight, my chest tightens as I think of a life without her. She’s so young and has so much potential. This world needs her fiery spirit, and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep her here.

  I cover my face with my hands and release a sigh before forcing my fingers through my hair, so much anger pooling up within. This is what drugs do. They ruin lives. They don’t discriminate but threaten to destroy everyone in their path. Some days, I hate the role in my sobriety as a sponsor. Not because I don’t care for the people I help but because I love them too much, and I’m tired of the heartache. I’ve lost people who meant the world to me—people I’ve loved like family. And this shit hurts.

  Some of my peers say I’m too invested, but that’s who I am. When I’m in, I’m all in. There’s no in-between. I would do absolutely anything to save those I love. Clementine is going to beat the odds. She’s going to make it. I will do everything in my power to make sure she does.

  I’m sick of the loss and the heartache. I’m done. No more. Clem is a ray of fucking sunshine, and if I have anything to do with it, she’s going to be shining for decades to come.

  I look toward the sky blue Jeep before me with a sense of desperate longing for something I can’t have, and that’s Quinn.

  I’m good at my role in NA because I can read people. I usually know what someone is feeling before they do just by the look on their face. I know when people are hurt or sad or jonesing for their next high.

  Therefore, I know that Quinn wants me. The truth be told, she doesn’t stand alone in her attraction. I’ve always found her gorgeous and fun. She’s a light, a free spirit—bold and beautiful and good. She’s everything I could hope to obtain, yet she’s not mine for the taking because I have nothing to give.

  I’ve never had a serious romantic relationship. There have been casual flings, sure, but no one with staying power. The women I’ve been involved with in the past have known that, and their feelings on the matter mutual. I can’t give my heart to someone when it’s already occupied. Clementine and the others I sponsor come first, and I feel they always will because they need to. Their lives depend, in part, on me and my ability to see them through their darkest times.

  I’m not in a position for a traditional happily ever after. Romantic love, marriage, and family aren’t in my future because my life is already full. I have people who depend on me, and I won’t let them down. Not ever, if I can help it. A wife and kids don’t deserve to be second place.

  Maybe, in part, I’m afraid. I haven’t craved drugs in at least eighteen years, and I’ve been clean for twenty. They tell me that’s rare, not to want to use again but I don’t. I think my part in others’ journeys toward sobriety aids me in my own. I wonder if I need them as much as they need me. Or perhaps, not, but I’m not in any hurry to find out.

  My life works the way it is. I don’t want more. With that realization comes the question as to why I flirt with Quinn when I’m around her though, I know she could never simply be a casual fling. It’s not right, yet when I’m with her, I can’t help it. She brings out the cocky side of me, the side that wants her to want me.

  Last night with her arms around my waist and the breath from her laughter on my neck was almost too much. I wanted her, damn the consequences. That feeling of recklessness makes me uncomfortable.

  So I’m going to finish this Jeep, drop it in her driveway, and be done with her for a while until I can get my emotions in check. And then I’m going to run until I can’t run any farther with Clem because endorphins are good. They’ll make me forget what it felt like to have Quinn on the back of my bike.

  While Clem runs from her nightmare, I’ll be running from my dream.

  Chapter 8

  Quinn

  I can’t pretend I didn’t put more effort into my appearance than usual tonight. I’m a tad overdressed for a Labor Day apartment party, but my effort isn’t intended for
anyone there. It is for someone else.

  Work was as I expected it would be. Once our missing shipment of clothing items for the annual Labor Day sale were found—in Tulsa, Oklahoma, no less—there wasn’t time to get them back to Michigan in time. I knew there would be angry shoppers, frustrated employees, and not enough coffee to combat the day from hell—but somehow, it didn’t matter.

  Through it all, I knew I’d be dropping by Ollie’s house before the party, and that thought alone has kept my spirit happy. I called Alma earlier to get Ollie’s address. He refused to give it to me because he doesn’t want payment for the work he did on my Jeep.

  The day after my Jeep broke down, I got an Uber ride home from work to find my Jeep sitting in my driveway in perfect working condition. Ollie was a lifesaver through that ordeal. The fact that he drove by as I broke down, set up the tow truck pick-up, drove me home, fixed my Jeep, and returned it, leaving me little time to worry, was such a huge relief. With all the fires I had to put out at work this week, it was nice not having to deal with a broken vehicle on my own.

  He’s adamant about not taking money from me, stating he was simply helping a friend. While that may be true, the tow truck and parts cost him money, and he shouldn’t be responsible for spending his money on me. Not to mention the time it took him to fix it when he could’ve been working on a project that would bring in money.

  Ollie’s a good person, but so am I, and I owe him. There are two types of people, givers and takers. Ollie’s a giver, always looking out for those around him, helping everyone he can out of the kindness of his heart, and going above and behind for his people.

  I know many individuals who take advantage of others’ generosity without any intention of paying it forward, and that’s not me. I googled the cost of the repairs to my Jeep had I taken it to an auto shop and have that amount of money, along with take-out from the best steak house in Ann Arbor on my passenger seat.

  My gaze traces Ollie’s house before me. I pull into his driveway and put the Jeep in park. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I’m pleasantly surprised. The housing market in Ann Arbor is expensive, and his home sits on a large lot of land, as far as city lots go. He’s obviously doing well for himself, and that makes me so happy for him. His home is a dark charcoal gray ranch with white trim. It’s…almost sexy if houses can be considered as such. Multi-toned gray bricks create a raised flower and plant bed in front of the large picture window.