© 2019 Sheridan Anne.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Cover Design by: Sheridan Anne
Photograph: Pono Marencko
Editing and Formatting by: Sheridan Anne
Proofreading By: Jessie Lynn
Introduction
It’s official…
I’m the biggest loser in Haven Falls… FML!
Things couldn’t possibly get worse from here.
Everyone leaves me. My mom, my friends… Kaylah. It’s like the curse of Henley Bronx. Forever alone, and that’s no exaggeration. I’m all I’ve got in this world. Just me, myself, and I… and my goldfish, Frog.
Who would have thought that throwing a bowl of spaghetti Bolognese all over the school bad boy would change it all? I sure as hell didn’t. If anything, I was expecting a very different outcome.
Noah Cage. What can I say? He’s the pack leader. He stormed in, tattooed up with muscles for days, desperate to prove he’s not like the rest. He saved me while sweeping me right off my feet, but really… I think I saved him too.
He wormed his way in and brought love, happiness, and friendship with him and now the thought of losing him tears me apart, but if my track record is anything to go by, he’ll leave me, just like everyone else. It’s inevitable.
I’d give anything for Noah Cage to prove me wrong.
Will the Henley Bronx curse return once again to take away my only happiness or do I finally have what it takes to turn this bad boy my way?
WARNING: The Haven Falls Series is a Young Adult / New Adult Romance filled with LOL moments, teenage angst, and of course, all the swoon-worthy moments I know you’re all dying for. This series is recommended for mature readers due to cursing and sexual content. If this offends you, then steer clear of this bad boy romance!
For everyone else, dive in and have fun!
Contents
Introduction
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
Author Biography
Other Series by Sheridan Anne
Chapter 1
My eyes peel open to the glaring morning sun streaming through my open window. Damn, that’s bright. I press a hand over my face and let out an unladylike groan as I rub my hand down my face, forcing myself to wake up.
I let out a heavy breath. It’s yet another school day. Fucking great.
I reach over and feel around my bedside table, knocking shit over as I search out my phone. My alarm hasn’t woken me and the curiosity of just how much more sleep I can get is eating away at my curiosity. My fingers curl around the cool metal and I tear it off its charger before accidentally dropping the bastard on my face.
“Fuck,” I grunt, scrambling around to catch the phone before it falls off the side of my bed and smashes against the old wooden floors. It slips right off and I slap my hand down on the side of the bed, trapping the phone under my hand. “Gotcha, you little bastard,” I murmur as I bring the phone back up, being a little more careful not to engage my clumsy tendencies.
I hover it above my face and hit the home button, lighting up the screen. The second the phone comes to life, I fly straight out of bed. “Shit,” I gasp, throwing the blankets back and scrambling around my room.
No wonder I haven’t heard my alarm go off yet. I forgot to set the stupid thing and now I have all of fifteen minutes to get my ass to school.
Just effing great. This is exactly what I don’t need for a Tuesday morning.
I hurry around my room, pulling my sleep shirt over my head and tossing it onto my messed up bed before rushing around my room in the nudie rudie, searching out a clean bra and something to wear before remembering to feed my goldfish, Frog.
Precisely three minutes later, I’m dressed in my only pair of clean ripped jeans, my combat boots, and an old white tank which was stuffed down in the very bottom of my closet. Unfortunately, finding a pair of panties is a little hard and I simply don’t have time to search them out. Lucky me. I guess I’m going commando today.
I hurry down the hallway and look at my shower longingly, knowing I won’t have a chance to have one until after school. Don’t get me wrong, I showered last night, but my hair could really use a good scrub. It’s going on a few days and I’m starting to toe the line between lazy and downright disgusting. Instead, I throw in a little dry shampoo and hope for the best before scrubbing my teeth and putting on some mascara.
Making my way around the house, I throw my books into my bag before I realizing that it’s way too quiet. Something’s off here. “Dad?” I call out before backtracking down the hall and poking my head into his bedroom. It’s not unusual to find him sleeping well past midday after having a few drinks the night before, but instead of finding a lumpy, disaster of a bed, I find nothing.
“Dad?” I call out again, continuing up the hall. He must be in the kitchen.
As I make my way around the living room, my eyes cast out the window and immediately everything makes sense. His big mother effing, Optimus Prime looking truck is nowhere to be seen. He must have booked another job. As well as noticing the missing hunk of shiny chrome in the driveway; I can’t help but take in the drizzle falling from the sky, making the shitty start to the day that much worse.
Dad’s been a truck driver since before I can remember. His truck is his pride and joy, you know, right after me, of course. That truck got him through some difficult times and it’s the reason we’re so close today.
After mom left when I was twelve, he simply didn’t know what to do with me. Did he leave me home alone or did he take me with him across the country for days at a time? He didn’t really have that ‘father’ gene until he started hauling me on his road trips. We bonded like never before and we’ve been close ever since. I guess that was the silver lining of having a wife and mother walk out on us.
If I’m honest, I’d have to say that dad never really got hit with the ‘father bug.’ When mom left, everything went up in flames. I didn’t know how to rely on my dad, and dad, well, he didn’t know what the hell to do with me. We started off slow. He would book jobs that only required a few hours on the road, and he’d take me with him. That quickly turned into overnight jobs which eventually turned into ‘big jobs’. Sometimes we’d be away for weeks at a time. I absolutely loved it, until I got older.
Dad started getting calls from the school. I was missing too much of my education and eventually, he stopped bringing me along. He’d leave me at home, and at first, it was terrifying. I was scared of the dark and had a few abandonment issues no thanks to my mother. As the years went by, I got used to it, and now, it’s our normal.
Dad leaves and I take care of myself. We’re happy and it works for us both. He stays out of my hair and I stay out of his, while also loving each other fiercely. It’s an effed up relationship, but it’s our own personal brand of effed up, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
These days, I guess it’s fair to say i
t’s more of a surprise when he’s home rather than waking up to find him gone.
I get into the kitchen and my eyes instantly start scanning for the note that, no doubt, will be hiding somewhere around this mess that I’m going to have to clean up after school. You know, if I ever make it to school. Actually, considering the whole clothes situation this morning, I might have to do a few loads of washing as well.
I find the note and let out a deep sigh as I take in the two fifty dollar notes sitting on top. Damn. Two fifties. That means he’ll be gone a while.
I pocket the money, knowing I’ll be slipping it into my ‘get the hell out of Haven Falls’ stash that I keep hidden under the floorboards in my room and come to terms with that fact that I’ll probably be eating noodles for the next few nights.
I snatch up the note and scan over it as I dig through the cupboard for something quick and easy to eat so I can save myself a little time.
Squish,
I booked a big job.
Won’t be back until Friday, possibly Saturday.
Buy yourself something to eat and stay safe.
Lock the doors and call me if you need me.
Love you.
Dad.
I stuff the note into my back pocket along with the money before letting out yet another sigh. When dad says he’ll be home Friday or Saturday, what he means is, he’ll be home by Sunday night, at best. He’s an optimist. The glass is always half full where mine is usually half empty. Hell, it’s usually so empty, it’s bone dry.
Dad never takes into account the fact that something always happens when he’s out on the road. No matter what, something will happen. It might be engine trouble or a flat tire. Not to mention, there’s always a cop who thinks the worst of truckers, pulling them over and inspecting their loads like assholes. I mean, yeah, sometimes it might be necessary and occasionally they find someone smuggling something, but for the most part, these guys are just trying to earn themselves a dollar for their family and get from point A to point B in peace.
I can’t help but look at the time. Shit. I really have to go.
I stuff a bagel in my mouth and balance it between my teeth with the intention to eat it on the way. Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder and pat down my pockets to check I have the keys and my phone before pinching my jacket off the back of the couch and hauling ass out the door.
The drizzle continues and I shelter my head as best I can from the rain, but to be honest, it’s really not that bad and I don’t have far to go until I’m reaching dad’s old pick up.
I hastily unlock the door before tossing my bag across to the passenger’s side and clambering in after it. The door is slammed shut and not a moment later, I’m jamming the key into the ignition and giving it a firm twist.
The old pick up rumbles for a moment before promptly dying. I groan and try again knowing that sometimes it just needs an extra kick in the morning. “Come on,” I whine as it fails on me again. Why does this shit always happen when you’re running late?
Third times a charm, right? I turn the key once again with a cringe as a sinking feeling settles itself in the pit of my stomach. Naturally, the old pick up tells me to fuck off and go find some other way to school.
I slam my hands down on the steering wheel and fall back into the driver’s seat as the frustration gets the best of me. “Damn it,” I growl before slamming my hands down again.
I open the door and hurry around to the hood of the old pick up, hating just how big this thing is. It’s not like I need a step ladder or anything, but a couple more inches of height would help in situations like this.
I open the hood and look down at the old, dirty engine. Dad has had this pick up since he was seventeen and was passed down by his dad, and I have to be honest, it sure looks like it’s taken a beating or two in its life.
As I look over the engine trying to figure out if maybe something has come loose, a noise to my right steals my attention. I look across at the neighbor's place to see Rocko watching me with an amused grin on his face.
The guy is a serious creeper. He was a senior at Haven Falls last year and is nothing but trouble. I can’t stand the guy. All the girls were relieved when he left school, but not me. I wasn’t lucky enough to get rid of him. I still see the loser every damn day.
“Can I help you?” I question as he continues to stare. Getting no response from him, I shake my head. “Either come over here and be helpful or fuck off.”
Rocko scoffs before walking forward and dropping down into his shitbox car and screeching out of his parents’ driveway. What a loser. I roll my eyes as I get back to my task. I swear, that guy is seriously going nowhere, the only thing he has going for himself is his sheer size. He’s probably working for the Russian mob as a muscle man…either that, or he’s a janitor.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket, cursing the rain as I do, shaking the thoughts of Rocko from my mind.
I find dad’s name at the top of my recently called list, as let’s face it, he’s literally the only person I’ve called over the past eight months. Things used to be different. Very different. I used to have a friend, a best friend. We were so close to the point I’d considered her my sister, but then things changed; and now, I’m stuck here alone, handling everything she left behind.
I press down on dad’s name and he answers almost immediately. “Squish,” he bellows down the line. “What’s going on? Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I grumble. “I didn’t realize you were heading out.”
“Sorry. The job came in late last night and I wanted to get an early start on it. You were already asleep. Didn’t want to wake ya.”
“K,” I sigh, jamming the phone between my shoulder and ear as I fiddle around with the engine. After spending so much time in the truck, I like to think I know what I’m looking at, but truth be told, I’m drawing a blank.
“What’s going on?” Dad questions again. “Shouldn’t you be at school already?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “The truck won’t start.”
“Shit,” he groans. “What do you mean? Is she out of gas?”
“No,” I tell him. “I filled her up yesterday. It’s just not…turning over,” I say, scrunching up my face and hoping that’s the right phrase to use for this situation.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, lowly to himself. “What about the oil? I haven’t changed that in a while.”
I roll my eyes and let out a huff before placing the phone down on the side of the hood. I check over the oil, and just my luck, it more than needs changing. Not to mention, it smells like a rat crawled up in there and is peacefully rotting away.
I groan realizing that there’s no chance in hell of me fixing this on my own. I wouldn’t know the first thing about changing the oil in an old pick up. Not to mention, if I even attempted, the truck would probably go up in flames. “Yeah, it’s the oil,” I tell dad, picking the phone back up.
“Crap,” he says. “I won’t be home for days. You’ll have to walk. Maybe call a mechanic this afternoon to come have a look at it.”
“Shit,” I grumble. I guess there goes my shot at making it to school before the bell. I think it over, calling a mechanic means handing out cash that we simply don’t have. I can handle walking for a few days. Dad will come home, fix her up, and she will be good as new next week.
Like I said, I can handle it.
“I’ll manage,” I tell dad before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.
I put the hood down and walk around the side of the pick up before grabbing my jacket and bag off the passenger’s side seat. I pull the jacket around my body, letting it hang open as I do my best to shield my face from the drizzle. I mean, I could run back inside and search out an umbrella, but that’s taking more time which I don’t have.
It’s only a ten minute walk. I’ll be fine, despite the fact that the bell will be ringing in about two minutes.
I start making a walk for it, doing my best to avoid the puddles whic
h have appeared on the sidewalk overnight.
Rain comes down and my hair and shoulders begin to take on that wet, grunge look, making me happy I didn’t waste time this morning washing my hair.
I’m only a few minutes away from the school when I hear a car approaching fast from behind me. I keep my head down, not wanting to draw attention to myself. It’s probably just some loser late for school and in a rush to make it before receiving a detention like the one I’ll most likely be getting.
The car slows just a bit and I glance up just in time to see the familiar black car of Spencer Jones, filled to the brim with all his jock, asshole friends, darting from the center of the road towards me. My eyes widen a fraction as his car hits a puddle on the side of the road, sending a wave of muddied water over me before speeding away with the sound of his friends’ laughter booming out the open windows.
“Fuck,” I yell as I wipe water from my face. I’m completely drenched. Top to fucking bottom.
I glance down at myself. My jacket is soaking wet and I curse myself for not doing it up as my white tank is now completely see-through, showing off my black bra and sticking to my body like a second skin.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I should just turn around and go home now, but if I do… they win and I’m too fucking proud for that. They won’t see me break. I won’t allow it.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I shake the water off my body, wring out my hair, and hold my head high before continuing to walk forward.
Chapter 2
I head for the back door instead of going through the front of the school where I’ll be stopped by the creeptastic security guard wanting to wave his metal detector over me to check I’m not carrying anything, just as he does every morning. I mean, it’s a fucking belly button piercing and he knows it, yet every morning, I get stopped as everyone else waltzes on past. No doubt, he’ll be fired soon anyway.
Untouchable: Haven Falls (Book 1) Page 1
