by Cindy Miles
Other Books by Cindy Miles
On Morgan’s Creek: A Cassabaw Station Novel (Book 1, TBA 2015)
A Christmas Spirit
Forevermore
The Heart Thief
a short story included in The Mammoth Book of Ghost Romance
Nia and the Beast of Killarney Wood
a short story included in The Mammoth Book of Irish Romance
The Gloaming Hour
a short story included in The Mammoth Book of Time Travel
Thirteen Chances
MacGowan’s Ghost
Highland Knight
Into Thin Air
Spirited Away
Visit Cindy on her website, Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads!
Contact her at [email protected]
Dedication
To Deidre Knight, for Believing
To Keith Urban, for Inspiring
To my mom, Dale, for Encouraging
And to Lyndsee Homberger, for Reading
Table of Contents
STUPID GIRL
Other Books by Cindy Miles
Prologue: Before
1. Slammed
2. Big Dog
3. Suckerpunched
4. Nutcracker
5. Gripped
6. Trouble
7. Brax
8. Curve Ball
9. Unwanted Attention
10. Sunshine
11. Letting Go
12. Breathless
13. Fallen
14. Daydream Believer
15. Infamy
16. Confessions
17. Almost Perfect
18. Almost Paradise
19. Redemption
20. Broken
21. Southern Comfort
22. Brax
23. Green-Eyed Monster
24. Wrecked
25. Anguish
26. Promises
27. Conflicted
28. Sacrifices
29. Forever
Acknowledgements
Author Bio
Copyright Information
Wake up! Wake up NOW!
Inside I shook, and my teeth chattered uncontrollably as my body ignored my mental command to drag itself out of the fog I wasted in. My eyes felt glued shut; my lips stitched together. Instead of waking fully, my breath came out in short little puffs between clenched teeth. Not from cold. The air around me was warm, humid, and my fingers slipped against my sweat-dampened skin as I crossed my arms tightly around my body, knees drawn up against my chest. Where am I? I lay on my side, the soggy ground earthy, pungent and gritty against my cheek, my ribs, hip. A grinding ache, low in my stomach, was accompanied by a burning sensation between my thighs. I tried to sit up, to shake my head and clear the haze from my thoughts, but I couldn’t budge. Couldn’t remember, couldn’t speak. It was as if invisible fingers dug into my skin, freezing all movement. The taste in my mouth sickened my stomach, and it reminded me of when I was little and had hidden a handful of pennies from Kyle’s piggy bank in my cheeks. Metallic. Cold. Bitter.
Finally I forced open my eyes and blinked. Two beams of light shot over me through the darkness. A motor growled. Then, furious voices rose above the sound in angered yells.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, man! What the hell’d you do to my sister?”
“What’d you give her, Evans? Where is she? Open your goddamned mouth and tell me!”
Recognizing my brothers’ voices, I peered into the misty light and tried to focus. What were they doing here? The images were blurry at first, but the longer I stared, the clearer they became. My oldest brother Jace held someone by the throat against the hood of the truck. Kyle, two years older than me, took a swing at the body on the hood. Knuckles crunched against flesh and bone, and the body slammed into the metal of the hood, then grunted and swore.
“Fuck you, Beaumont. Liv knew exactly what she was doing—”
Kyle punched the body again, and a grunt escaped Kelsy Evans’ throat. Kelsy? My brain worked furiously, scrambling to think past the haze inside my head. Kelsy Evans. My boyfriend. We’d been going out for almost a year. There was a party. At Lawson’s Lake. That’d been tonight. Right? My lips tried to move, my tongue pushed against my teeth as I inhaled and forced a shout from my lungs. “Jace!”
My brother let Kelsy go with a jerk and in seconds was on his knees at my side. Calloused fingers pushed the wet hair from my eyes. “Olivia? Wake up, honey. It’s gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m here. Kyle!” Jace hollered. “Let him go, bro. She’s over here and her lip’s busted.” Jace’s hand gently gripped my jaw, turning my face toward the light. “She needs stitches.”
“I ain’t asking again, Evans,” Kyle shouted. He grabbed Kelsy’s jaw and shook it. “What’d you give her, man? Look at her! Look what you’ve done!”
Straining my eyes to hold focus, I peered past Jace to where Kyle held Kelsy against the truck, forcing him to look in my direction. Kelsy’s gaze held mine for several seconds. What had he done? Kelsy wouldn’t hurt me.
“Ecstasy! Just a half tab, bro—”
Kyle swung, his fist connecting with Kelsy’s jaw. His head whipped back, and Kelsy sputtered. “I was drunk, man! Come on!”
My insides grew cold as my brain began to work, fitting the broken pieces of the past several hours back together. Grasping at Jace, I held onto him, pushed myself up. My eyes drifted down my body, and I noticed one of the spaghetti straps to my sundress hung loose and torn. Beneath the material, my bra was pushed up and over my breasts. My feet were bare; my panties bunched awkwardly between my thighs.
Oh, God. Jesus God, what did Kelsy do to me?
I needed no confession. I knew then, the burning pain between my legs a tell-tale sign. My body began trembling again, and sobs escaped my throat. The way my cries sounded in the night air, as if everything else around me had stilled to allow my voice to echo through the trees and off the creek? It was as though the world had died, and only I was left alone to shout and scream, praying for someone to hear me. Anyone. To save me.
No one had. Because I had only screamed inside my head. No one heard me.
Every muscle between my legs ached, but I drew in a lung full of air and forced my voice out in a long, echoing wail as the truth crashed over me. “Nooo!” I clawed at my dress, the one intact strap hanging limp over my shoulder. Yanking hard, my breath came faster. “Get it off! I want it off me!” It felt filthy, soiled. It was disgusting! I wanted it off!
“It’s gonna be okay, honey,” Jace crooned as he pulled me against his chest and held me there. With his palm, he pulled my head tightly to him, and I finally stopped clawing at myself and sobbed into his tee shirt. I blocked out the sounds of Kyle beating the bloody pulp out of Kelsy Evans as best I could, and my fists worked Jace’s shirt tightly between my fingers.
“Take me home,” I sobbed, my breath hitching. A souring pit formed in my stomach, and a wave of nausea dumped over me. My voice dropped to a cracked whisper. “I just want to go home.”
Jace rose, and in the next second he’d bent down and lifted me in his arms. As I drifted through the night air, the one thing I’ll always remember is the fireflies. Dozens and dozens of fireflies blinked over the creek bed, like a million stars littering the heavens.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Olivia,” Jace’s deep voice soothed me. “I swear it will.”
Glimpsing the blinking fireflies once more, I closed my eyes.
And prayed when I woke up in the morning, I’d realize this had all been just a terrible, sickening nightmare.
A year later …
The moment I spied the Welcome to Killian sign at the outskirts of town, my stomach dropped and my hands gripped the steering wheel hard. The small Texas college town sat
half-way between Lubbock and Amarillo. Two hundred and forty-eight miles from home. Three hours and forty-four minutes by car, going the speed limit.
I hoped to God it’d be enough.
Peering through my shades, I noticed Killian’s Sonic parking lot was filled to the gills with rowdy boys, souped up trucks and hot rods. As I passed by, I eyed several girls sitting on the backs of opened tailgates, laughing and flipping their hair. Reminded me of my hometown of Jasper. What was it about a Sonic burger joint? Always seemed to be the popular hang-out spot. Part of me wanted to pull in, tell the hair-flippers to get a grip and leave. But the bigger part of me kept my foot on the accelerator. Stay low, keep quiet, and no one will even know I exist. Just the way I wanted it.
Slowing down, I hit my blinker and pulled into the massive brick entrance of Winston U. Flanked by huge magnolia trees and planted mounds of petunias and other annuals, a little of my earlier somberness over leaving home eased out of me. It was replaced by an excitement I was sort of surprised by. Things would be different here. I just felt it. No more stares, no more whispers. No more muffled giggles. No more rumors. No one knew me here. I’d just melt in to the population and be a big nobody. Invisible, like a ghost. Perfect.
I started down the main drive leading to admissions, and scanned the grounds ahead of me. Large colorful banners stretched across buildings that said WELCOME FRESHMEN, along with several home-made Greek signs for Rush Week. People were everywhere, on the lawns, the sidewalks, the parking lots. Maybe I should’ve taken up Mom’s offer to come with me today. My brothers had offered to come, too. Even Grandpa Jilly. I’d turned them all down, insisting I could—no, needed—to do this alone. What was I thinking? Stupid, stupid girl. Too late now, I was in it up to my gills. No turning back. Drawing a deep breath, I pushed my self-doubt aside. I can do this.
While not super huge, Winston was mostly well known for their successful baseball and football teams. The Silverbacks. But I’m not exactly a jockette or even into sports, so that’s not what drew me. Winston also had an extraordinary astronomy program, with a mega-observatory to boot. They called it the Mulligan, and when it was first installed in 1910 it had been the largest scope in the country. I’d been lucky enough to gain employment in the Science complex through the financial aid department. It was geek-girl heaven, and I’d be right smack in the middle of it.
Literally. I loved the stars, constellations, galaxies, and all that went with it. Staring through my scope at the seemingly infinity heavens had helped me get through the last painful year of high school. To a certain degree, it’d healed me, right along with my family. We Beaumont’s all stuck together—except for my dad, who’d pulled a disappearing act long, long ago. Other than my family, astrology was my life. All I’d ever wanted to do was study the stars, ever since I was a little kid and Jilly had given me my first telescope for my sixth birthday. Finally, it was happening. I just prayed the past would leave me alone. That the nightmares would stay gone, that the relentless fear which had for a while replaced my fearlessness would recede somewhere deep, deep inside of me. And would stay there. Forever.
As I kept my eyes on the street signs, my hand fumbled around on the bench seat of my truck until I found the campus map. Holding it up eye level, I navigated my way through several streets until I found my dorm. Oliver Hall held three stories, double occupancy dorm rooms, each with a private bath, and a common room. I’d been assigned to the second floor, dorm room 21. The parking was split into two sections, with Oliver Hall in the center. I pulled into the not-too-packed left side lot, found a spot closest to the front, and parked.
I pushed my hat back off my forehead and for a moment I sat, just looking out at the red brick building, manicured with boxwood hedges lining the walkway up to the dorm. A huge cottonwood tree, probably a couple hundred years old at least, stood tall and off to the side, casting an arc of shade over the hall. People milled about—mostly girls, since it was a girls’ dorm. Laughing. Hollering. Going in and out of the door, everyone loaded down with bags and boxes and belongings from home. Mid-August, it was hot and humid as Hades. And I was here. Alone.
This was my new life.
Somewhat intimidating.
I gave Mom a quick call to let her know I’d arrived and promised to call later. Then, after a big, calming breath, I opened the door and climbed out. The heady scent of freshly cut grass hit my nose, and it actually helped me feel a little less anxious. These people don’t know me. They don’t know what happened to me. A little more apprehension eased out of me. Shoving the truck keys into my bag, I made sure I had my dorm keys, and pushed my cell into my back pocket. I slipped my shades off and tossed them onto the dash, shouldered my backpack, and shut the door. Reaching over the side rails of my truck bed, I grabbed a box filled with astronomy books and desk supplies, and started across the lawn. Not super light, but manageable, and I’d rather get the heavier boxes in first. Looked like I’d be making a few trips to get all my stuff inside anyway. My boots dug into the grass as I made my way to the entrance.
“Heads up!”
Just as I turned, a sudden, powerful force slammed into me, taking me down, and I hit the ground with enough vigor to make the breath whoosh out of my lungs. The box flew out of my arms, and I was a little stunned at first, lying in the grass. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling; I’d been thrown from so many horses over the years, I’d lost count. And this is what being thrown felt like. Maybe worse. My hat had shifted and now shaded my eyes. I concentrated on breathing.
Then, suddenly, my hat was pushed off my face, and he was over me. Arms braced on either side of my head. Looking down. Frozen in place, I couldn’t do anything else except stare back at him, and I watched his smile fade as his gaze fixed on mine. He looked about as surprised as I felt.
His face took me off guard. It was … shocking. Not handsome—almost frightening. Rough. The lightest, most startling blue eyes I’d ever seen stared down at me. One of them had a really recent black and blue shiner marring the otherwise fair skin. A whitish half-moon scar started at the corner of the other eye and curved around his cheek bone. Another white scar jagged down from his jaw, just below his ear, halfway down his throat; it was met by a black tattooed inscription that disappeared down his shirt. Super dark hair—almost black—swung over his forehead, and equally dark brows furrowed. We both stared for a few seconds.
Then, his head lowered, and full, firm lips covered mine.
And he kissed me.
One, two, three seconds passed as my brain reclined in some hazy fog where I didn’t know anything or anyone. Only this kiss. Strong lips pushed mine open, just a bit, and a velvety tongue barely swept against mine. A faint trace of spearmint lingered. For an instant, I was completely lost.
Then, the shock wore off, and my brain worked again. Almost too well. Between reality and old panic clawing at me, I reacted.
I reared my knee up and sunk it straight into his family jewels. “Get off me,” I said in a low firm voice. I put my palms against his chest and shoved him.
“Ah, damn!” the guy wheezed. He grabbed his crotch and fell over onto his side. He groaned in pain. I leapt up, stepped over him, and started grabbing my books.
“Jesus fuck, Sunshine.” The guy laughed and wheezed at the same time, and still clutched himself. “What’d you do that for?”
His voice wasn’t too deep and sort of raspy. Heavy accent. He looked like a gangster, only he wore a WU Silverbacks tee shirt, with the number 14 at the upper left chest. Whah’d you do that fah? Definitely not from Texas. He’d kissed me. And for a moment, I’d let him. What was wrong with me? I spared him a harsh glare. “Are you crazy? Why do you think?”
Male voices caught my attention, and I looked over to my left. A group of guys—jocks, all wearing Silverbacks tees—were laughing. One was on the ground, howling like a total fool.
Apparently, college would be just like high school after all. Maybe worse.
“Christ, I’m sorry. Was just
goin’ out for a pass. I didn’t even see you there. Then,” his smile was slow and lazy as his gaze raked over my mouth, “well, I just couldn’t fuckin’ help myself.”
I shot him a hasty, embarrassed glance. Heat flooded my cheeks. “That is just plain psycho.” Dropping to the ground, I flipped over the box and started shuffling my stuff back into it as fast as I could. The guy rolled, groaned, and swore again, then slowly went to his knees and started helping me. I didn’t look up. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” God, I wanted him to just leave, walk away, join his buddies and pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. People were already looking, and I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want to be noticed. At all. He’d kissed me.
The guy ignored me all right, and continued to pick up my scattered belongings. My eyes avoided his face but noticed tattoos snaking down one arm. The other was inked, covered with random works of art, and a dark band tattooed around one wrist. Black letters were inked onto the knuckles of both hands, but his nuts apparently had recovered and he was moving too fast for me to read them. I didn’t want to get caught staring just to see what they said. For that matter, I really didn’t care what the words said. I wanted to be out of the situation. It wasn’t happening, though. Instead, it was dragging on and on.
The group of jocks were still laughing and now calling him names. He glanced over his shoulder. They laughed harder. He shook his head and continued picking up my books. “Ignore them,” he said. He was a little closer now. “Fucking retards.” Fahkin retahds. I stood with my box, and he rose with me. Grabbing my hat off the ground, he plopped it onto my head. He inclined toward my loaded arms. “I’ll get that.”
I flashed a determined look at him. He was about six feet tall, lean, broad shoulders. A piece of tattooed art poked out of the collar of his shirt and crept up his neck on one side. Probably more beneath the shirt. Definitely not your average clean-cut college athlete. I shook my head and started walking. Typical inked-up punk big mouth bad ass. Surely he had better things to do. “Thanks, I’ve got it,” I threw over my shoulder. Pushy guy …
