Broken Dreams (Fatal Series Book 3)

by Callie Anderson

“Thanks.” She takes the tip of her coffee. “I'm sorry we lost touch.”

  “I think that was more my fault than yours. I was locked away in that hospital for so long, and the second I had a chance to escape, I ran and chose to never look back. I didn't want any reminders of the life I had.” I chuckle. “Hell, I never spoke to my mother.”

  “Well, she didn't take it very well. I don't think anyone did; definitely not Ethan.”

  “I didn't know you guys were close?” I ask because it's festering inside me and the ugly green monster has won.

  Stephanie glances at me before looking down at her coffee. “We weren't at first. But when you left, we became friends.” I can't help but furrow my eyebrows at her. “It's not what you think.” She raises her hands to reassure me. “He needed a friend. I think for a long time he was just trying to replace you. He was looking for the next best thing. And I think at one point, he thought it was me. He even tried to kiss me once. He was drunk, of course, and I slapped him upside the head. He missed you a lot and constantly talked about you. Still does, you know."

  “I saw him today. I accidentally walked into his pub and was greeted by Erica and Michael.”

  “Ugh.” Stephanie rolls her eyes dramatically. “I still hate that girl.” Stephanie crosses her arms. “She’s like a damn gnat that won’t die!”

  “Apparently, Ethan doesn't.”

  “I think he takes pity on her. Her dad reminds him of Jerry.”

  “And she keeps his bed warm,” I add, letting her know that I know about them.

  “I think she only does when he's desperate and drunk.” She tries to ease the blow.

  “What he does with his life is not my concern,” I say, trying to convince myself. “He doesn't owe me anything.”

  “So you ran into him . . .”

  “Yeah,” I continue. “Michael and Erica were giving me a hard time. Michael was making these threats about me not being welcomed, and Ethan broke it up. I ran out, and when I got home he was there waiting for me with food.” Stephanie sighs and I see the puppy eyes growing on her face. “We had lunch, and then I just lost it.”

  “Why?”

  “It's been a long time, and I have so much anger and pain built up because of him. And when he's around he makes me feel things again, and I’ve worked very hard to forget these feelings.”

  “Maybe you should stop trying to fight everything. Maybe your feelings are meant to be. The history between you two goes back almost twenty years."

  “Whatever; enough about me and Ethan. Let’s talk about anything else.”

  “How's your mother?” Stephanie asks with a smile.

  “I drink almost a bottle of tequila a day because of her. I'm probably becoming an alcoholic, but whatever.” I laugh.

  Stephanie giggles. “Girl, if I’d known you were that much of a lush, I would've invited you out for a cocktail, not coffee.”

  “I'm always down for drinking when I'm around my mother.”

  “Well, let's get going then. I know just the place.”

  “As long as it's not a place Ethan owns.”

  “No, not at all.”

  I chug the rest of my coffee and follow Stephanie to her car. We head down Main Street toward the end of town to a tiny little complex that I didn't even know existed. It faces out into the mountains with condos above the storefronts. Stephanie parks the car in front of Rosa's Wine Bar.

  “This is new,” I say, closing the car door behind me.

  “When Bruce and I got married, my parents wanted me to have a traditional wedding. Since we chose to elope, my father bought us a piece of land as our wedding present. I didn't want to build a giant house since I knew it would be empty a lot, so we invested and built condos. We rent out the storefronts, and my sister-in-law runs Rosa's Wine Bar."

  I nod, studying the sleek architecture. The building isn't massive, only a few floors up and the length of a city block. Inside, wine bottles are scattered throughout the room, and three rustic light fixtures hang from old beams in the ceiling. The atmosphere is laid-back with a few couples spread around the lounge area.

  Stephanie waves to a female standing behind the bar and then points to an empty table across the room. “This must be heaven,” I joke when we sit down.

  “I like to say it's my little piece of heaven.” A waiter walks over and greets us with a menu, but Stephanie declines. “Can you tell Rosa that we want the wine sampling for two.” She looks away from the waiter and then over at me. “Trust me, it's the best thing here.”

  “Sure, that works,” I agree.

  Our waiter brings us two trays each carrying four different wineglasses. Each glass is filled with a little more then your regular sip. “This is the Merlot sampling,” he says, placing the trays in front of us. Another waiter behind him places a wooden block filled with assorted cheeses and various nuts. He explains which cheese is paired with each wine before heading to the back.

  When Stephanie said a sampling, I simply envisioned four glasses. I didn't realize we would be sampling the best of every variety of wine Rosa carried. I reach for my first glass and take a small sip. The wine is filled with a variety of aromas and I taste the wild black fruit in its undertone. "I think I found my new go-to location,” I say as I reach for the dried apricots that are hidden behind the Manchego.

  “I'm here almost every weekend.” Stephanie raises her glass and we cheer to our little piece of heaven.

  We start with the Shiraz, followed by the Cabernet, and Pinot Noir. Jason then returns with the rose wines. They're sweeter, and I have to admit that at this point they're all starting to taste the same. By the time we move on to the white wine, my buzz is in full effect. My cheeks are warm to the touch, and I have to hold back the urge to giggle.

  When Jason places the dessert wine in front of us, I push my tray forward. “I’m tapping out. I’m officially way too drunk,” I say and I know my words are slurring. “I need to get home. I have to be up tomorrow for the grand re-opening.” I press my palms to my eyes.

  “Oh no!” Stephanie protests. “Tomorrow is Saturday and it’s only ten-thirty. You can hang a little longer, can't you? Please?” I glance up at her and shake my head. “My condo is right upstairs. You can spend the night in the guest room. It'll be like old times and we’ll have slumber party where all we do is talk about boys. Well, I’ll talk about Bruce and you can talk about Ethan,” Stephanie rambles.

  “If Darlene wakes up and I’m not home, she’ll hang my head over the mantel. You know how she is.” I take a sip of water that Jason has kindly put in front of me. “I should call a cab.”

  “Don't be silly!” Stephanie shakes her head and digs in her purse. “I invited you out, I will call you an Uber.”

  I thank Stephanie and excuse myself to use the restroom. Keeping one eye closed, I try to walk with grace toward the door with a big W on it. Inside, I splash my face with cold water but it does nothing to help. The reflection in the mirror frightens me, and I run my fingers under my eyes, wiping away the mascara.

  “I'm really freaking drunk,” I mutter.

  I don't remember how I find my way back to Stephanie, but when I do she forces me to drink two glasses of water before leading me outside. “Come on, babe, your chariot awaits.” The fresh air cools my skin and I inhale it, hoping it helps. Stephanie holds the back door open for me and I climb into the back seat. I fall on the cool leather and I pray I do not pass out.

  “You take care of my girl,” I hear her say to the driver.

  He chuckles and I feel my body warm. That chuckle sounds so familiar. I attempt to pry an eye open to see who he is, but I'm only greeted with the black leather from the seat in front of me.

  I moan, unable to lift myself up. “I'm going to feel like hell tomorrow,” I say and close my eyes.

  Sleep.

  It’s the only thing my body craves.

  I push off the seat and wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth. I blink a few times and wait for my vision to become
clear. Confused, I stare outside and see that we are parked in my driveway. Glancing back at the driver, I suck in a quick gasp of air.

  "Goddamn it! Stephanie called you to take me home?” I wince when my head begins to pound.

  Ethan flicks the car light on and looks back at me. "Did you have a nice nap, Freckles?" The boyish grin causes my head to spin but I choose to blame the alcohol. "I forgot how cute it is when you snore."

  "One, I don't snore,” I say and cover my eyes. "Two, why are your lights out?" Surprisingly, I’m shocked that I’m no longer as intoxicated as I was at the bar.

  "I didn't want to wake anyone. Besides, I figured I’d let you sleep it off for a bit so you wouldn't wake your mother."

  "How long have we been sitting here?" My throat is parched.

  "An hour or so."

  I glance at the clock in his car, which reads two in the morning. I try to remember what time I left Rosa’s and realize it’s a lot longer than an hour. Inhaling, I dig through my purse for my keys. "Thanks, Ethan. Stephanie tricked me into drinking."

  "Anything for you." He kicks his car door open and reaches back for mine. “Come, I'll walk you to your door." He sticks out a hand for me.

  "Who said chivalry is dead?" I give him my hand.

  In one sweeping motion, Ethan has me out of the car and into his arms. The scent of him is intoxicating and I stumble to the side. “You're going to wake your mother if you can't walk straight.” He brings me closer and his low voice causes a shiver to run down my spine.

  “The doctor prescribed her Ambien,” I whisper, avoiding his gaze. “She won't wake up.” I realize the proximity of his face. Testing my heart, I look up at him. Our eyes lock for only a few seconds, but a lifetime of love flows through us. I desperately want to rub my fingertips along the scruff coating his cheeks, but I force myself to take a step toward the house.

  Ethan and I stand at my front door, and with his help I'm able to stick my key into the lock and turn it. “Thank you for saving me tonight,” I say over my shoulder.

  “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

  “Back at ya.” Without any hesitation, I lean in and kiss his lips. It’s a quick kiss, one I have offered millions of times before. And though my body feels as if it's about to explode, I choose to ignore it and push the door open.

  “Good night, Les,” Ethan says and turns to walk toward his car.

  I thought tequila was the liquor that made you do insane things, but clearly it is wine.

  “Hey, Ethan?” I call back to him. He stops and looks over at me. “I miss you climbing through my window.”

  He chuckles and I walk inside.

  Tossing my belongings on the console table, I kick my shoes off and make my way up the stairs. My pants are tossed to the side by the time I reach my room and I’m swearing to never drink again.

  I'm digging through my suitcase when I hear a tap on my window. I jump and look over at Ethan. His body is illuminated by the full moon, and I’m transferred back to ten years ago when I would wait patiently for these moments.

  I push the window open and allow him in. “I thought you were heading home,” I whisper. His eyes are locked on my legs. “Crap.” I slap his shoulder. “Stop being such a dog. I didn't know you were coming up, and I was changing into my pajamas.”

  “Hey, that's not my fault.” He slides his jacket off his shoulders. “As long as it's visible, I'm going to stare at it without any shame.” My face warms and I back away from him.

  “I thought you were going home?” I ask again.

  “No, I only wanted to park my car around the corner. I don't want the neighbors talking to your mom.” Ethan’s voice is low and raspy. “Mrs. Greeley is still nosy.”

  I slide my pajama pants on and turn away from him. Discarding my shirt, I slip my bra off and pull a T-shirt over my head. The entire time, his gaze heats my skin. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and I don’t know what to think. I don’t want him to leave, but I also don’t want to have any false hopes about something that ended so tragically.

  When I'm ready for bed, I look back at him. It's my turn to gawk since he in standing shirtless with only his boxers on. The ache between my legs makes it impossible to speak. Instead, I walk over to my bed and draw the comforter back.

  “I must be very, very drunk since I’m letting you stay the night.” I say as I climb into bed.

  “You'll be fine. You're the only girl I know who can drink her heart out and never puke.” He slips in next to me.

  I slap his bare chest and my hands land on his tattoo. The heat from his body radiates off his skin and I curl closer to him. “When did you get it?” I ask. I want to turn the light on and inspect every millimeter of his body; every muscle that has tripled in size from the last time I saw it.

  Ethan huffs and stretches his arms out so I can lay on his chest. I don’t argue. Even if it’s just for one night, I want to hit pause on everything that ever happened between us.

  “A year after you left. When did you get yours?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know every freckle you have, every beauty mark. I spent many nights in this room studying your body. The room is dark, Leslie, but I'm not blind. And for whatever reason, you still have that nightlight plugged into the wall. I saw the shadow of it when you took off your bra.”

  My heart is thumping in my chest. “A year after I left,” I say.

  Ethan shifts on the bed and brings me closer to him. My forehead rests against his cheek, and my hands traces the ink on his chest. “What did you get?” I ask, trying to envision what it is.

  “The same as yours.” He kisses the tip of my nose and a grin grows on my face.

  “You don't know what I have.” My lips press on his.

  “Of course I do.”

  He kisses me back and I moan into his mouth. It’s familiar and painful at the same time. I spent many years forgetting what his lips felt like. I ran from the pain he caused.

  It’s too much to bear.

  Pulling away, I look into his eyes. “I’ve spent eight years trying to forget you,” I remind him. “I taught myself to hate you.” I lie.

  He ignores me for another second and kisses me once more. This time our tongues meet and he presses his firm body against mine. I melt into him and he pulls away. “You want to hate me because you love me.” He pulls me closer to him. “Let’s pretend that, just for tonight, we’re still teenagers.” He kisses the top of my head and I sigh into the nook in his neck.

  “Tomorrow I go back to not speaking to you.”

  “You're not a good liar, Leslie.” His voice is soothing.

  “Shut up, Ethan.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We both know we have permanently inked ourselves with a Lotus flower.

  12

  PAST

  Three Years Later.

  Ethan.

  Ethan.

  Ethan.

  I was consumed by all things Ethan. My world revolved around him. When I was in school, I was with him. When I was at dance, I was thinking of him. When I was home, I rushed to my room and waited for him. He was my world, and we spent every possible second together. We spent hours making out hidden in the tall grass behind my house. We spent nights sitting out on the extended roof outside my bedroom window looking up at the stars. He was my everything and there wasn’t a thing I’d change about our love. It was infectious and beautiful.

  I was a junior in high school, finishing up my year before the summer started. I was worried about the summer. My mother had insisted I spend three weeks at a dance clinic, and I didn't know how much time I would get to see Ethan. We both knew this summer would put a strain on our relationship. It was the last summer before our senior year and his father wanted him to get his hands dirty with the family business. While most juniors going into their senior year were applying to colleges Ethan wasn’t allowed. He was to stay home and take over the kingdom his father had built. Jerry wante
d Ethan to be like his old man. And that made me tremble with fear.

  Over the years, we’d learned that Jerry ran a few drug trades outside of town, but no one within a ten-mile radius caused any trouble in this town without dealing with Jerry. Ethan also learned that Jerry owned many things in town including a mechanic shop, a local bar, and even a few apartment buildings in the center of town. Though most of the businesses ran legitimate books, Jerry was known for laundering money. He also had the Police Department on his payroll, which meant they looked the other way as Jerry buried the bodies in the desert.

  On Ethan’s first day of work, I stayed busy the only way I knew how. I danced.

  I danced until my feet bled.

  With fear and anger coursing through me, I figured I’d transform the energy into something productive like videotaping my audition for Juilliard. With the videotape recording, I left everything on the dance floor—the fear of losing Ethan to his father; the rage I felt toward my mother for continuously making me redo everything even though it was perfect; the dream of getting out of this town as soon as I was old enough. I challenged myself; I pushed harder. Tears dripped from my eyes and I knew this would be the tape I submitted to Juilliard. There was no other way I’d be able to capture this emotion again.

  When the song finished, I dropped to the floor as I gasped for air and warm tears dripped down my cheeks.

  “That’s how you’ll get into Juilliard.” My mother’s voice startled me.

  I didn’t respond. Her compliment did nothing to alleviate the pain in my chest. I knew I was getting into Juilliard. There wasn’t a doubt in my heart. But I wasn’t sure if Ethan would still be by my side.

  Later that night, I waited in my bed for Ethan to appear. My sore legs shook with anxiety as I waited for him to come in through my window. I pushed every thought out of my mind and focused on the glass. I needed to see him. I needed for him to be okay.

  When he appeared in the window frame, I jumped off my bed and ran toward him. My arms laced around his body. “I was so scared.” My voice came out in a frantic whisper. Unable to control my tears, I let go and cried into his chest.