by London Casey
5 Years Later
London Casey
Jaxson Kidman
Contents
Foreword
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5 Years Later
Prologue
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
From the authors:
Breaking News!
About the authors:
From the minds of two bestselling authors comes this stand alone novel that spans 20 years, following two people as they weave in and out of each other’s lives.
Sometimes the truth hurts… sometimes saying goodbye isn’t for forever…
Written by London Casey (Karolyn James) and Jaxson Kidman
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London Casey (Karolyn James) Facebook fan page: www.facebook.com/karolynjamesauthor
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5 Years Later
When I was 13, he stole my heart
When I was 18, he took my innocence
When I was 23, he said he loved me forever
When I was 28, he broke my heart
Now I’m 33… and there’s a knock at the door. He’s back, again. And this time he’s not alone.
Prologue
(A Thap at the Window)
15 YEARS AGO
(Lily)
“Does it hurt?”
“Probably just a little. I don’t know. But it’s quick. You know?”
“You’ve done this before, Aiden…”
“Well, yeah. I have. You know that. But with you, it means so much more. Okay? I swear to you, Lily. My flower.”
I smiled and felt a shiver I didn’t quite understand. But I really liked when Aiden called me his flower. I really liked the way he looked at me and the way he wasn’t afraid to hold my hand. I really like the way he promised we would wait until the time was right.
And the time really was right: my birthday. My eighteenth birthday, too.
Talk about making it magical, right?
Aiden brushed the tip of his nose against mine.
Eskimo kisses…
I felt butterflies in my stomach and they traveled up to my racing heart. I was afraid. I mean, how could I not be? This was my… first…
I nodded. “Aiden. Yes.”
There was a thap at the window. Followed by another. Then another.
Aiden growled and moved off the bed. “I’m sorry, Lily. Hold on a second, okay?”
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said.
Aiden walked to the window.
The sound was familiar. Someone throwing little rocks. Big enough to make sound but not enough to break the glass. I learned a lesson five years ago when Aiden threw a rock that was just a little too big and it broke my window.
I smiled and bit my lip, thinking about the memory. I stared at his bare butt as he stood at the window.
It really had been five years since I first met him.
And crazy as it was… it was five years to my birthday when I met him.
Aiden threw open the window and leaned out. “Hey! You motherfuckers! Fuck off! I’ll come find you all!”
He stepped back and shut the window. Then he pulled the curtains shut. Turning, he walked to the nightstand made out of wooden crates. I saw his thing and it was… wow…
Aiden grabbed his phone and with the press of a few buttons there was music playing. His music. That’s right, Aiden was a musician. He played guitar in a band and they had recorded a demo album.
“This is your song, Lily,” he said.
He climbed back into the bed and I threw my arms around him.
It had been five years. That was way long enough to wait and make him wait.
Tonight, I wanted him.
And then tomorrow… well, we’d have forever.
Except what I didn’t know was that tomorrow the bed would be empty and Aiden would be gone.
Chapter 1
(Raise Your Ass)
1 YEAR AGO
(LILY)
I swore my eardrums were going to explode. The music was so loud and thumping it was actually sort of annoying. I stared at the fruity blue drink on the glass table and watched the surface shaking. It reminded me of some dinosaur movie. You know, where the T-Rex is coming and everyone can feel the ground shaking, seeing their water moving.
“Two minutes to go!” someone shouted in my ear.
I cringed and looked over at Eve. She tossed her head side to side, along with her long, jet black hair. She held her drink in her hand and her lips were tight around her straw. Behind her were a few guys dancing distractedly, all waiting for their chance to dry hump her a little.
The scene was totally not my normal thing. Usually when I came out, I would have more than one drink and loosen up. But tonight…
Paige sat next to me and grabbed for my drink. “You don’t drink for three reasons. One, you have your period and cramps are making you want to die. Two, you broke up with a guy and can’t figure out whose fault it was or if the one got away. Three, you’re in some fucked-up depression mood where you won’t get help to figure out what’s really wrong with you.”
“What if I say it’s two out of three?” I asked.
Paige rolled her eyes. “It’s your birthday…”
“Not yet.”
“At midnight, fine,” Paige said. “You know, this birthday stuff is a joke.”
“I agree,” I said. “But Eve loves it.”
“I mean, you weren’t born at midnight, right?”
I shrugged my shoulders. After all, it was possible. I had no idea what time I was born. I was lucky I skated with an actual birthday for that matter. A lot of people I knew growing up would just make up a birthday because they literally had no clue how old they were or when they were born. They’d pick their favorite celebrity’s birthday and just celebrate then.
“Plus,” Paige yelled, “you’re over the thirty hump, Lily.”
“Don’t remind me,” I said.
“The only thing you can look forward to or dread is forty, fifty… sixty…” Paige wiggled her fingers at me and made her lips into an OOOHHH shape.
I laughed and threw her the middle finger.
“Last minute!” Eve yelled.
She grabbed for me and I reluctantly stood up.
“Just go with it,” Paige said.
So, I did.
I grabbed my drink.
Eve was this free-spirited hippie chick who I loved with all my heart. She grew up like I did and she respected any time she had in life. To her, a birthday was better than a new year. Because the birthday was within the soul. A chance to be free once more and make any changes that were needed.
But what Eve didn’t know was that, generally speaking, my birthdays weren’t all that great.
Not that it mattered this year…
“Ten!” Eve yelled.
She started the countdown. All around me, I had some friends, more strangers, everyone chanting like they were in Times Square at New Year’s Eve.
When they got to zero, they all screamed Happy Birthday at me and then I was showered with streamers and confetti.
Eve put her hand to the bottom of my drink and made me kill it off. Some sugary blueberry thing that promised to give me more of a stomachache than a buzz. I threw the glass to the floor and let out a yell.
That’s when Eve grabbed my face. “You get to be new again! Starting now. Make your wish, Lily. For the entire year. And then make it all happen. Make it come true. Feel the energy…”
Eve planted a kiss to my lips and then backed away.
Someone came by with a tray of drinks. Another round.
Paige handed me a shot.
“Let’s raise our glasses to Eve,” she announced. Then she leaned in to me. “And you better be raising your ass to Mr. Hot Guy to your left who has been banging your brains out with his eyes for the last twenty minutes. He’s the one who just bought this entire round. Probably set him back a hundred bucks, easily.”
I looked to my left and a cute guy winked, raising his glass.
“Get it, girlfriend,” Paige whispered.
I looked at Eve and she was back to dancing. With three guys. The hippie free spirit she was, she had an insatiable need for men. She loved the attention and took no shame in her abilities to enjoy their company.
So I set my eyes on Mr. Hot Guy who was staring at me.
I refused to bend or break for a man (except for one man) so I stood my ground and let him come to me.
He slithered right up against me, letting me feel miles of muscle under his t-shirt.
“I heard it’s your birthday,” he said in my ear. “What can I get you besides a drink?”
“A way out of this fucking place,” I yelled. “I can’t stand the music. Not my scene tonight.”
“Then what’s your scene?” he asked.
“How about your bed?”
He looked at me and grinned.
Then he slipped his hand into mine.
I hated my birthday, okay?
Not to mention it was another year gone and that put me at four years since he came crashing back into my life. And if his track record stayed consistent…
He’d be back again in one year.
Chapter 2
(Flip that Chip, Son)
PRESENT DAY
(AIDEN)
With my elbows on my knees I stared at the dirty floor. I never understood the idea for white tiles in a busy place, especially the basement of a shithole church that got more traffic from junkies than from those looking to praise the big man upstairs, who was said to save their damn souls when they kicked the bucket for good.
Years of traffic were on those tiles. Black scuff marks. Lighter marks. Just wear and tear of time, getting pummeled like everyone in the room.
A chair scuffed the floor and I looked forward.
I hated that fucking sound.
A metal folding chair with the black nub of a foot missing, the uneven metal of the legs scratching hard against the tile floor.
Leaving another mark.
I looked back downward as I rubbed the scruff on my face.
Jenny.
She was taking her seat, wiping her eyes and her snot on the sleeve of her hoodie. Everyone offered her damn tissues, but she never took them. That was her confession hoodie. The hoodie she wore when she shot up for the last time ever. The hoodie she wore when she hit the floor, rolled to her back, and saw the hand of the big man upstairs as he reached for her. Lucky for her, paramedics were able to save her and give her another chance at living in regret, pain, doubt, and a state of confusion that made the needle so fucking tempting.
So fucking tempting.
“So fucking tempting,” I whispered as I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Anyone else like to speak tonight?” Big Mike asked as he stood at the podium.
There was a faded circle logo on the podium. Damn thing had probably been used at some fancy shit business or something. Now it resided in the basement of the church, where junkies stood to trade war stories and promises of never going back to war again.
I looked around the room, licking my lips.
Everyone had a serious look on their face.
Nobody else raised their hands.
I noticed a spot in the back empty.
That’s where Charlie sat.
Fuck.
There were only a handful of reasons why someone would legitimately miss a meeting and none of them were good.
I caught Big Mike staring at me.
I leaned back in the chair and stuffed my hands into the pockets of my beat-up leather jacket.
I stuck my feet out and crossed one foot over the other. I balanced the heel of my left foot to the toes of my right foot.
Big Mike had a way of just standing there and staring at people. He was six-five and two-fifty but moved like a skinny runner going for the gold medal. His eyes were fiercely dark, matching his skin, but he had the heart and care of someone kinder than the guys that worked above us in the church.
Gripping the edge of the podium, Big Mike nodded. “Right. Sometimes the hardest words are the ones we can’t find. So, I’ll leave you with something. The sound of a tink. The super tiny metal sound of a needle hitting a concrete step. That’s what I can never forget. Forget the sirens. Forget the yells of the paramedics and the doctors. Forget the beeps and noises of machines. Forget the half-hearted attitudes of those forced to take care of me, not that I would ever blame them. But that sound… that needle… hitting the concrete… leaning my head back and knowing I was completely fucked.” Big Mike broke from the podium. “And I’m not going to bash anything upstairs…” He pointed up. “But come on, have any of us really found what we’re looking for up there? We spend our time looking down. Digging in our souls. Trying to figure out how to keep that devil off our heels. Forget about going upstairs, we have to stand tall right here. On our goddamn feet.”
Big Mike paused and looked at a few of the newbies. I hadn’t gotten their names yet and really had no interest in getting them either. I wasn’t in the business of making friends. Not with junkies. Shit, I just wasn’t in the business of making friends, period.
Newbies were tough to deal with sometimes and even tougher to crack. Many of them came strolling through on court order mandates or empty promises to friends, family, or a wife or husband or something of the like. They’d do their time but they never listened. They never learned.
Inside my pocket, I felt a chip. The only one that I kept with me because of its significance in my life. I played with it while Big Mike finished up, leading the group in an informal type prayer, asking for strength, the power of forgiveness, and the ability to see beyond the urges inside us.
He made his usual announcement that there were coffee and snacks at the crooked folding table against the wall. The newbies darted for it, their bodies needing caffeine and sugar, anything that could give them even the most pathetic sense of a high.
I waited and stood up last.
The screeching of the chairs on the floor was worse than nails on a chalkboard.
I finally stood and Big Mike came from the podium. “I was looking right at you.”
“I ha
ve nothing to say.”
“You should have, though. We have new ones here.”
“My bad,” I said.
“What’s with your pocket. What the hell are you playing with?”
Big Mike was always on the hunt for those who fell back into the arms of the demons.
I took out my sobriety chip and flipped it in the air like a coin and caught it.
“How many days?”
“No clue,” I lied.
Every junkie - recovering or in the mess of a storm - knew when they had their last high. I just kept mine close to the chest. For good reason. That was a night I lost two people in my life. One person was dead. The other person alive but gone.
“Flip that chip, son,” Big Mike said. He patted my shoulder. “Flip that chip.”
“Hey, Mike. Charlie wasn’t here today.”
Big Mike nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
“What are we…”
“I sent a text. We’ll get it worked out.” He looked around. “Hey, you ready for this?”
I looked around to make sure the coast was clear.
I gave a nod and swallowed hard.
Big Mike reached into his pocket.
He placed the small baggie into the palm of my hand and I felt my heart skip a beat.
I kept the baggie in a different pocket than my chip. I had both hands in my pockets, though, playing with each item. The devil and the angel, not on my shoulders, no fucking way, but in my pockets. Both tempting me.
My mouth was dry, wet, hungry, thirsty, dry again.
I stood out front of the beat-up church and watched as the group slowly broke apart. Some of us were lucky enough to have our own rides. Others weren’t allowed to drive so they got picked up or waited for the bus. Others didn’t have two pennies in their pockets. Big Mike stood there and shelled out fives to anyone who wanted cash, making them promise they were going to buy food.
