My Casey

by Sam Crescent

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0054-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  MY CASEY

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  Going back home after eight years didn’t exactly feel like the right thing to do for Casey Jones. No matter what anyone said, in her own eyes, she’d failed. Well, not really failed, but she needed a break from the city life. She had hoped it wouldn’t come in the form of her quitting her much-loved job as an editor, but she needed to take a break. Fortunately, working for the past eight years without a single vacation meant she’d saved enough to take an extended one right now, possibly through Halloween, Thanksgiving, and even Christmas, and it was only June.

  What could possibly be wrong with actually enjoying the last half of a year without doing anything but what she’d set out to do since she was ten years old—write?

  There were so many excuses she could come up with for her reason not to write a single thing. From going to work every single day, to helping other budding authors, to just needing a weekend to clear her head. Characters weren’t coming, or just plain and simple, she didn’t want to write anymore.

  Not great for an author who had zero releases under her belt in the past eight years. She’d seen a couple of amazing authors come through her work, and they all had the same advice: write what you love, not to market.

  Seemed simple enough.

  Of course it did.

  Only, Casey never really knew what she enjoyed. Sure, she loved certain tropes in her books, but what did she really want to put on paper? She could write erotica easily enough. All she needed was a dick and pussy, and that was easy. It wasn’t about the ease; she wanted to write something with true meaning that connected to others on some basic level. She started to sound so fucking pretentious.

  Reading was supposed to be for fun.

  Yet, her little laptop remained empty of actual words. She had about three hundred saved documents, and nothing on them apart from the occasional mention of chapters, prologues, or random words that were just in her head. She even believed there was a chapter that said, “I don’t know what to write”. Maybe even a couple instances of “fuck you” there as well. Either way, it hadn’t gone well.

  Now, she was on her way back home to Mom and Dad, who, according to them, were excited to finally have their little bear back.

  She didn’t know why they called her bear. She was neither cute nor furry, but then, she did have a nice temper to match her mood at times. She wondered, not for the first time, if it was that.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  Her parents wouldn’t be like that.

  She ran her fingers through her dark brown locks, the tips a lighter shade as she had attempted to dye it a blonde a few years ago. The only proof of that was the locks right at the end. Damn things.

  Not long to go now.

  Creeker Falls awaited.

  She had no idea why the town was called that. Her mother had once said it was because if you stood still for long enough, you could hear the entire town creaking as it headed into the falls.

  Yeah, not buying it. She figured out long ago that her mother was just trying to get her to be quiet. The good old quiet game that never worked. It did though for a short time. She’d lie silently listening to the world, believing they were moving. She would even measure where she stood, and see if she’d moved.

  Crazy imagination some kids had.

  She’d been right up there.

  For the longest time growing up, she’d been convinced there had been a clown hiding out in her closet. It wasn’t. She always had bright clothes as a kid, and it meant any color she saw through the slats was from all her own clothes, but in her young mind, it meant a killer was waiting for her.

  It was one of the last times she’d ever snuck in a horror movie. They just weren’t worth it. Horrors were the bane of her existence. She refused to edit them; not that she had a problem with the genre, she just wasn’t good at it.

  Being in the city in her early years after leaving home, she had watched a whole trilogy of horror movies, only for her to scare herself shitless and end up keeping the lights on for an entire month to be able to deal with the chaos going on inside her head. It had been a really interesting summer.

  Fortunately, during all this time, she hadn’t found much reason to date. The guys were okay, nothing ground-breaking. She wasn’t some simpering twenty-eight-year-old virgin. There had been boyfriends, but only the few months kind.

  Nothing really … interesting.

  She had only enjoyed them, as they had enjoyed her.

  Of course, if any of the guys she went out with even mentioned something about her going on a diet, they were kicked to the curb. Much to her shock and irritation, a lot of men thought it was okay to comment on a woman’s size.

  They had no fucking idea what they were dealing with.

  Stupid men.

  Not all men.

  Her father was the best.

  Rome Jones, her father, was considered one of the most romantic men in the whole of the town. The way he’d courted her mother, Abby, was legendary.

  It was a sweet story, one she wished she could tell her own kids, if she was to ever have them.

  According to her father, he’d been completely besotted with her mother. Like, falling over himself in love, and she could buy that, one hundred percent. They’d been childhood sweethearts, and all of his life, he’d been completely devoted to one woman. Loving her, caring for her, just being everything to her.

  It was a sweet, emotional love story. For Casey, it was hard to even think of finding someone who could ever give her the kind of happiness her parents had. People would often say she was going to end up in a relationship like her mother, or she would rival her parents’ legend one day.

  Not too much pressure, sure.

  She had found herself crushed under the weight of all the expectation, romance and boyfriends, and relationships scared her. She didn’t want to compete or have anyone expecting her to have the same or similar kind of relationship to her parents.

  Her father and mother were … one of a kind. No one could ever compete with their love or the lengths someone would go in the name of love.

  Her father was known as the kind of guy who would build his woman a house just for her. They had wanted loads of kids, but there had been complications with Casey’s birth, and it had stopped them from having any more kids.

  For Casey, it was one of the reasons she had always tried her hardest to be the best daughter for them. To not be a failure, so returning back home right now didn’t exactly do well for her.

  She wanted to be the best, and right now, she was heading back home a failure; not good.

  Her parents would be really kind and supportive, but she knew the truth. It was that truth that she hated to acknowledge. She wasn’t supposed to allow her goals to slip, and yet she had. No matter which way she looked at it, she’d slipped into a bad spiral, and she needed to get out. She hoped being back home would help her to relax and to regain herself again.

  That was her hope.

  Just as she was starting to smil
e, her car made a really weird noise. She’d had this car since she’d watched her dad build it when she was sixteen. He’d take her out for little driving lessons, and it would be the highlight of her life.

  “What? No. No. No.” The car that had gotten her from A to B finally died on the old dirt road, at least another thirty minutes from home.

  She turned off the ignition, took a deep breath, and turned it over.

  Nothing.

  Flat.

  “No. This can’t be happening. Come on. You can go.” The engine wasn’t having any of it, and she collapsed against the steering wheel, whimpering. This was not supposed to do this. “It’s supposed to go. Come on, you beauty, go.”

  Nothing.

  Finally giving up, she climbed out of the car and slammed the door. Pulling out her cell phone, she let out a gasp. It was working. Her cell phone was really working.

  She got to her father’s number and put the call through.

  “Hey, pumpkin, you better not be phoning me and driving. You know I don’t like that.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m being good. I promise. No, what I need is for you to come and pick me up.”

  “What’s wrong with the beast?”

  She’d named her car that as she truly felt her car was a beast in all the good ways.

  “He’s just stopped on me. I can’t believe it. After all this time, he just freaking stopped.”

  “Language.”

  “Dad, come on, you’re way worse than I am.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  She rolled her eyes. That was a total lie, and they both knew it.

  “Can you come and get me?”

  “I will deal with it.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “Dad, say you’re coming to get me.”

  “Sweetie, someone will come and get you.”

  “Dad, that’s not a guarantee that you’re going to arrive,” she said.

  “I know, but hang in there, don’t worry. Where are you?”

  She told him where she was, and in the next second, her cell phone died.

  “What the…”

  She tried to call her father, but obviously, he was fixing this. Folding her arms across her chest, she took a deep breath and tried not to think of all the bad things that could go wrong.

  “It’s fine. It’s all perfectly fine.”

  Even if she was talking to herself.

  Leaning against the car, she rubbed at her temples, checked the time, and wondered how long she was going to be sitting out here waiting.

  She hated waiting around.

  This was why you ordered stuff off the internet, so you didn’t have to wait in long lines.

  Humming to herself, she tried to think of everything that could be going right for her, and so far, she had nothing.

  Her car was dead.

  Her career in the toilet.

  Not married.

  No kids.

  The list just seemed to go on and on.

  She heard the sound of a car approaching, and as she looked, she couldn’t help but groan. She remembered the tow truck, owned by none other than the Locke Family. Great, just great.

  She and Daniel Locke, or Rusty as a lot of people called him, didn’t exactly get along well.

  They didn’t have a problem with each other, just so long as they ignored one another, stayed out of each other’s way, and just pretended not to ever know one another.

  With her hands on her hips, she stood away from the car as the tow truck finally came to a stop.

  The door opened.

  And for the first time in eight years, she saw Daniel.

  He had changed a lot. He’d always been a huge guy, large, muscular, sexy, but now, his body had filled out, and he was all man.

  Licking her suddenly dry lips, she tried to think of a really good reason as to why she was staring at him as if he was some kind of eye candy.

  “Well, well, well, look who it is. Casey Jones is right in front of me,” Rusty said.

  “Hey, you,” she said.

  “Your dad called. He was on a date with your mom.”

  “They were on a date on the day I was due to arrive back home?”

  “Yep. You got a problem with that, take it up with them. I’ve got my orders,” he said. “You need a tow truck.”

  “I do. Yes, I do.” She rubbed the back of her head, and then hoped he didn’t think she had lice.

  What the hell am I doing?

  “I don’t know what the damage is. He just died.”

  “He?”

  “I’m a woman, so my car is a he.”

  “Cute.”

  She pressed her lips together and refused to even justify anything with a comeback. She didn’t have to tell anyone why she named her car.

  “Do you think you can have a look? See what is going on around in there?” she asked.

  There was no way the beast would just die on her. There had to be a cause.

  “That’s what I do, honey,” he said.

  ****

  When Rusty got the call to come and pick up little Casey Jones, his first thought had been to turn it down. He hadn’t seen her in years, eight to be exact, and well, he didn’t know what to do if he saw her again after all this time.

  “Thanks, Daniel, I appreciate it.”

  Everyone in town called him Rusty. It was the name given to him as a little boy because he was always playing in the rusty old trucks his dad kept out back. He liked to collect damaged cars and try to put them back together again. However, his father was such a damn fine mechanic, he never got the time, so most of the time, the damaged cars just rusted away to nothing, and that was where he always went to play and hang out.

  “For now, I think it’ll be best if I tow this to the shop, and then I’ll take a look at it.”

  “Can’t you just take a look at it now?” she asked. “Please?”

  He chuckled. “Your car just died. I’d say it’s the engine, and I don’t have anything with me to look underneath. Your parents are waiting for you, and I don’t want to disappoint them, so how about we get this towed, and I can drop you off at your house? How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like a plan, obviously. I just don’t want to part ways with my baby.” She stroked the car, and he liked that about her.

  She liked cars. “All my stuff is in the back of the car and in the trunk.”

  “You packed light. I thought women were supposed to come complete with an entire army of things.”

  “I didn’t exactly buy a whole lot of stuff in the city. I have a small apartment, so it doesn’t exactly let you collect a lot of things.”

  “Gotcha,” he said. “So how was the big old city? I expected you back within a week of you leaving.”

  “It was okay. Loud. Always busy. No matter where you went there was always someone around.”

  “Not like home, then?”

  “No. When the town is asleep, it’s all asleep,” she said, running fingers through her long brown hair. She looked so incredibly sexy.

  He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this.

  “So, what’s been going on with you?” she asked. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m back home, no job, and living with my parents, what about you? Married? Kids?”

  “Not married. No kids.”

  “Oh.”

  “I help my dad. I’m a mechanic and handyman when needed.”

  “Is that a porn reference?” she asked.

  He burst out laughing. “No. Not even close. I help out with some of the odd jobs around the house. I don’t do porn, believe me.”

  “I need the ground to open up and swallow me, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yep. Just to swallow me whole, you know.” She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Clearly that pesky city job has gotten you all dirty.”

  He loved to see her flush. She looked a little panicked, but it was nice.
r />   “Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

  “Our private conversation where you ask if I became a porno. Don’t worry, I won’t mention it.” He winked at her. “I better get this bad boy back to the shop. If you want to empty your stuff into my truck, you can go on ahead.”

  “Right, yes, of course. I will do that.”

  He smiled, watching her.

  She had a nice, shapely ass. She wore a pair of denim shorts and a thin black top that molded to her curves.

  Casey Jones was still as curvy and hot as he remembered. Not that she ever knew what he thought of her. They didn’t move in the same circles growing up, not that he didn’t admire her a lot.

  Whenever she was in the hallway, or the classroom, he found himself drawn to her, wanting her, yearning for her, but he never did anything about it.

  Nope, he simply watched her from afar and did absolutely nothing.

  She was the daughter of the happiest couple in town, and he was the jock and mechanic’s son.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she carried a couple of suitcases to his truck, and one single bag, and she was done.

  “Travel light,” he said.

  “You got it. You never know when you need to move on.” She pushed her hair off her face again. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

  “Go and get yourself comfortable. I can deal with this.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ve been towing broken-down cars for a long time. Your baby is in safe hands.”

  “Thank you.” She hesitated, but he didn’t say another word.

  She finally stepped away and climbed into his truck.

  Casey was now in his truck.

  Again, he could recall so many other times when he wanted her, when he thought about fucking her, taking her, making her his, and he’d never done it. She had left town before he even got to ask her out on a single date. What kind of guy was he? Had he been waiting around for her after all this time? Nothing made any sense to him.

  With the car safely on the back of his truck, he moved around to the driver’s side, and climbed on in.