When Tomorrow Starts Without me
Page 1
Also by Stacy Claflin
An Alex Mercer Thriller
Girl in Trouble
Turn Back Time
Little Lies
Curse of the Moon
Lost Wolf
Chosen Wolf
Hunted Wolf
Broken Wolf
Cursed Wolf
Secret Jaguar
Fall Into Romance
Lost in Romance
Gone
Gone
Held
Over
The Gone Trilogy
Dean's List
Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series
Sweet Dreams
The Hunters
Seaside Surprises
Seaside Heartbeats
Seaside Dances
Seaside Kisses
Seaside Christmas
Bayside Wishes
Bayside Evenings
Bayside Promises
Bayside Destinies
The Hunters: A Collection
The Transformed
Deception
Betrayal
Forgotten
Ascension
Duplicity
Sacrifice
Destroyed
Transcend
Entangled
Dauntless
Obscured
Partition
Fallen (The Transformed Prequel)
Silent Bite: A Transformed Christmas
Hidden Intentions
Saved by a Vampire
Sweet Desire
Standalone
The Transformed Series - Four Books
The Transformed Box Set
No Return
Tiny Bites
Haunted
Dex
When Tomorrow Starts Without me
When Tomorrow Starts Without Me
Stacy Claflin
Contents
1. Kenna
2. Kenna
3. Rogan
4. Kenna
5. Kenna
6. Rogan
7. Kenna
8. Rogan
9. Rogan
10. Kenna
11. Kenna
12. Rogan
13. Kenna
14. Rogan
15. Kenna
16. Kenna
17. Rogan
18. Kenna
19. Kenna
20. Rogan
21. Kenna
22. Kenna
23. Rogan
24. Kenna
25. Rogan
26. Kenna
27. Kenna
28. Rogan
29. Kenna
30. Kenna
31. Rogan
32. Rogan
33. Kenna
34. Rogan
35. Kenna
36. Kenna
37. Rogan
38. Kenna
39. Kenna
40. Rogan
41. Rogan
42. Kenna
43. Kenna
44. Rogan
45. Kenna
46. Rogan
47. Kenna
48. Kenna
49. Rogan
50. Kenna
51. Rogan
52. Rogan
53. Kenna
54. Kenna
55. Rogan
56. Kenna
57. Kenna
58. Rogan
59. Rogan
60. Kenna
61. Rogan
62. Rogan
63. Kenna
64. Rogan
65. Kenna
66. Kenna
Author's Note
Previews
Other Books by Stacy Claflin
Resources
About the Author
WHEN TOMORROW STARTS WITHOUT ME
by Stacy Claflin
http://www.stacyclaflin.com
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Copyright ©2018 Stacy Claflin. All rights reserved.
©Cover Design: Rebecca Frank
Edited by Staci Troilo
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental or used fictitiously. The author has taken great liberties with locales including the creation of fictional towns.
* * *
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. Do not upload or distribute anywhere.
This e-book is for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please either purchase it for them or direct them to StacyClaflin.com for purchase links. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
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Content Note:
This novel deals with themes of abuse and suicide.
There aren’t any graphic or explicit scenes.
Please see the Resources page for support information.
Kenna
The railroad tracks rumble beneath my pink sneakers, vibrating my entire body along with them. My heart thunders in my chest.
I'm not backing out.
Sunshine beats down on me. It's early summer, but it's already proving to be an especially hot one. A rarity for a suburb of Seattle. It's too bad I won't be here to enjoy it.
Off to the side, near the shade of the trees, movement distracts me. Something is nearby. I can't tell what.
And I don't care.
The rumble of the tracks grows stronger. It's harder to balance.
My pulse races as the deep-throated horn blares through the air.
Though the driver clearly sees me, the green and yellow machine doesn't appear to slow.
Good. That's exactly what I want.
The horn wails again, this time rippling through me.
My right foot slips from the track. I land in the middle of the two long pieces of metal. It's probably for the best. I'll be hit by the center of the train. More force to end it all faster.
Squeal! Tssh…
The brakes.
No!
Don't stop!
Trains take forever to stop. Like half a mile or something. This can still happen.
I do the only thing I can. I burst into a run toward the massive, now-slowing vehicle.
The horn blares again, but I barely notice it. I can't let the train stop before it reaches me. If I'm going to get anything right in my life, it has to be this.
Now that I'm running, it's coming toward me faster. My heart pounds harder.
This is it. It's really going to happen. I can almost count down, but it would be too disappointing to get to zero, only to find out that I'd miscalculated.
The horn now sounds like a constant noise. That driver really wants me off the tracks.
He doesn't know who he's dealing with.
I'm ready for this.
Something hits me. From the side.
Wait, what?
Now everything is a blur. I'm sailing through the air sideways. Away from the train! It's leaving my line of sight.
My shoulder hits the ground first. Then my hip and side. My head hits. Hard.
I roll. Dirt and gravel get in my face.
I'm a mess of soil and grass.
The train barrels past.
I missed my train!
"What were you thinking?" demands a male voice from behind.
I spin toward the voice and glare at its owner. The gorgeous face of the owner. His almost-shoulder-length wavy hair is mostly c
overed by a gray beanie which perfectly matches his plaid flannel shirt.
"What were you thinking?" he repeats.
I jump up and dust rocks and grass from my jeans and shirt. "Me? What about you? Why'd you do that?"
He stands, but doesn't dust himself off. "You mean why did I save your life?"
"Yeah." I glower at him. My heart continues racing, but now from anger instead of excitement. "I had it all planned perfectly. Then you show up. The one variable I didn't take into account. Jerk."
He shakes his head. "You're unbelievable. I save your life, and you call me names."
"I called you a jerk. That's one name. Learn to count."
"Why'd you do it?" He adjusts his hat and tilts his head. His eyes are filled more with concern than annoyance now.
The guy is flipping gorgeous, but in the most down-to-earth way imaginable.
It's infuriating.
"What's so awful that a pretty girl like you wants to end it all?"
Pretty? Me? The guy obviously needs glasses. Maybe they flew off when he ruined my plans.
"Don't you have anything to say?"
"Not to you." I fold my arms.
"Hey, I saved your life. The least you could do is tell me why you were going to throw it all away."
I sigh as dramatically as I can. Seriously, I really draw it out and even manage a slight eye roll. Maybe I should've gone into acting. Too late for that. For anything, really.
There will be another train.
I ignore the hottie and storm toward the tracks. "This time I'm going to get it right."
He jumps between me and the tracks. "And if I don't let you?"
"You're going to try to stop me again?"
"Yeah." He knits his brows together, clearly daring me to try and stop him.
Why does he have to be so attractive? It's aggravating.
I clench my fists. "I've fought off guys bigger than you."
He arches a brow. "Really?"
"You'd better believe it. Wanna try me?" I step closer, ready to kick him where the sun doesn't shine for messing up my plans. I should be all over those tracks, yet here I am just arguing with a mysterious guy who shows up out of nowhere.
He steps back with a little laugh. "Okay, I believe you. Hey, why don't we grab something to eat?"
I just stare at him. He can't be for real. "You want to get some lunch? After this?"
"I'm hungry. Aren't you?"
"Doesn't matter. I didn't bring any money." I need to get rid of him so I can catch the next train. It'll be another fifteen minutes. Yes, I checked. Just in case something went wrong. I'm prepared.
He shrugs. "I have money. Come on."
It takes me a moment to realize what he said. "Now you want to pay for my meal?"
"Yeah. Come on."
"What? Am I your charity case for the day?"
He doesn't move a muscle.
My stomach growls. Loudly.
He chuckles and rubs the light dusting of facial hair across his cheeks. "Sounds like you could use something to eat."
"What I need is the next train!"
Why did I admit that to him?
"Let's get something to eat. You don't even have to tell me why you're out here. Just eat the food, and sit there being furious at me for saving your life. Sound like a plan?"
I clench my jaw, not wanting to give into him. My stomach rumbles again. Why did he have to bring up food?
"Well?" The corners of his perfect mouth twitch. He finds me amusing.
"Fine." I may as well get a meal for my trouble.
There will be other trains. And looking at this guy won't be the worst way to spend my last hour.
Kenna
What's your name?"
I stare at the menu, pretending not to hear him. It isn't hard to ignore him when the prices catch my attention. I've never been to this restaurant before, or any remotely as nice.
I can't believe he brought me here when he could've just taken me to a fast food place. Maybe he wanted me to have a nice last meal.
Normally I'd be uncomfortable here, especially with dirt on my clothes, but today I don't really care.
"Oh, come on. I don't even get a name?"
Could he be any more annoying? I glance up at him. "You said I didn't have to talk."
"What's it going to hurt to tell me your name?" His mouth twitches again.
My heart nearly jumps into my throat. What is it about him?
"Do you want my name first?" He taps his menu on the table, his eyes shining with amusement.
"Fine." I flick him another eye roll. I haven't rolled my eyes this much since I was fourteen and my stepmom moved in.
"Rogan."
"What kind of a name is that?" Besides perfect. Everything else about him is jaw-dropping. Why not his name too? "Like, your parents tried to name you Logan, but couldn't figure out how to spell it?"
He laughs.
"Am I right?"
He sips his water. "It's a mixture of my parents' names. I like it."
So do I. A lot. Not that I'm going to admit that to him. To Rogan.
"Now that you know my name, what's yours?"
There doesn't seem to be any harm in telling him. "Kenna."
"Really?" He tilts his head, seeming interested.
Or maybe I just want him to be interested.
No! No, I don't. I only want lunch—the aromas of the restaurant have made me twice as famished—then I'm going back to the tracks.
"It's really pretty."
"What is?" I glance at the menu.
"Your name." There's a smile in his tone.
I don't look up to see if it's on his face as well. "Right. Thanks."
"Is there a story behind it?"
"My name?"
"Yeah." He taps the table.
"Not that I know of."
"You don't know why your parents chose your name?"
I snap my attention to him. "I'm not talking about them. Got it?"
He puts his hands in the air, like I've just pulled out a pistol on him. "Don't talk about the parents. Understood."
"Good. So, uh, what should I order?" It's awkward, but I have to know with prices so mind-boggling.
"Whatever you want. Steak sounds good to me."
I flip over to that page and my mouth falls open when I see the price. It's literally three times more than anything I've ever been allowed to order.
"You okay, Kenna?"
"Yeah, sure." I clear my throat. "It just seems a little, you know, heavy for lunch."
"Why limit good food to dinner?"
"If you say so." I flip through the pages again. Lobster catches my attention. I've always wanted to try lobster. But it's even more expensive than the steak!
"Their lobster is to die for."
I glance up at Rogan. "Is that a jab at my dance on the tracks?"
He shakes his head slowly. "Nope. Just saying it's to die for. Try it, if you want."
I study his dark brown eyes. They have flecks of green and gray. They're completely spellbinding.
He says something, but I'm so lost in his eyes like a lovesick puppy that I don't have a clue what he said.
I pull my attention away from the deep abyss that is Rogan's eyes and take a deep breath.
"Well?" He raises an eyebrow.
"I'll have the lobster."
A nicely dressed waitress appears—she probably has a fancier title than waitress, but all I know is the crappy hole-in-the-wall dives I've ever been to—and she flirts with Rogan. They act like they're old friends.
Jealousy twists in the pit of my stomach.
Why do I even care? I'm not going to see Rogan again after this.
I'm not going to see anyone again after this. Especially not my family. Good riddance to them. My stepmom and stepbrother in particular. They'll probably throw confetti at my funeral. If they even go.
The waitress finally leaves after Rogan gave her our orders. He actually told her to bring me lobster.
At least I will enjoy my last meal. It'll be the most expensive thing I'll ever eat, and I'll get to stare at him the entire time. Never before had anyone half as hot as him paid me any attention, much less talked to me.
Speaking of talking, Rogan was saying something again. And here I was, lost in thought about how he looks.
"What?" I try to focus.
He grins. "I said, I'm going to the bathroom. Don't go anywhere."
I snort. "Right. You just ordered me lobster. I'd stay in this seat if the building caught fire."
"Well, if you do go anywhere, I know exactly where to find you. I'll push you out of the way again."
"Whatever." I pick up the dessert menu so I don't have to look at him.
From the corner of my eye, I watch him walk away until he's out of sight. Then I drop the menu and lean against the chair, half-ready to slide down to the floor.
Everything is so surreal. It's like I had died, and gone to Heaven.
Maybe I did get hit by that train and just didn't realize it. Rogan showed up as my angel to show me around this new place where lobster rains down from the sky and unbelievably gorgeous guys actually care what happens to me.
"Did you pick out a dessert?" Rogan sits back in his seat.