Redesigning Fate (Revive Series Book 1)

by A. M. Wilson

  “I think I’m in more of an action and adventure type of mood.” Elias grins, and my irritation evaporates.

  “Oh all right. Your bag looks pretty full for just housing a few movies.”

  He runs a hand through his tousled locks. “I may have packed some extra clothes.”

  “A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” I’m half teasing, half freaking the hell out. I raise my eyebrows and bite my lip, trying to hide my apprehension. He laughs at my obviously failed attempt.

  “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to. But not gonna lie, babe, I want to. It’s your call so you can stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “You have the deer-in-headlights look going on, and as adorable as it is, you have nothing to worry about.” He brushes his thumb over my lower lip soothingly, the effect instantly melting my body.

  I sigh, my eyes drifting closed as he leans in to kiss me.

  His soft, full lips meld to mine, moving slowly at first, steadily picking up speed as the kiss becomes more determined. I open my mouth to him, darting my tongue out to taste his. He snakes a free hand around my waist to my back, splaying his hand out along my spine, pulling me flush against him. “We could always skip watching movies and do other…activities,” he says, his voice husky and affected by our kissing.

  “Umm, I-I-uh…,” I stutter, unable to form a coherent thought. How am I supposed to respond to that?

  His hooded eyes dance, and he smirks at me. “Relax. C’mon. I brought a few of my favorites.” He heads over to the dark espresso coffee table I have situated in front of a large sectional couch, leaving me standing there dumbfounded. He unloads the contents of his bag, pulling out a stack of ten or so movies, and sets them on the table.

  My body starts to thaw, and I sidle up next to him to scan the titles. He hands me the stack of movies. “Here, you pick. I’m going to use your microwave and pop some popcorn. Do you have anything to drink?”

  “Water, milk, juice. There’s an opened bottle of wine in the fridge, some Budweiser that Carly left here, or patron in the cabinet next to the fridge. I’ll have a beer if you don’t mind.” I return my gaze the movies in my hand. I flip over the next DVD revealing one of my favorites. “We are watching this.”

  “Which one?”

  “You’ll see,” I reply as I quickly remove the disc from the case and stash the case back in the pile with the other DVD’s. I shield the disc from his line of sight with my body as I load the DVD player and find a spot on the couch to sit patiently, hoping he likes the one I chose. It did come from his collection.

  It only takes a few minutes for Elias to return to my side, plopping down so close our legs are touching. He couldn’t have gotten any closer unless he sat on top of me. He looks over at me with a huge smirk on his face, before shoving a handful popcorn in his mouth. I can’t help but laugh.

  The opening scene starts up, and Elias looks at me from the corner of his eye. “Hmm. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Fast and Furious type of girl.”

  “Oh really? Then how do you have me pegged?” I retort.

  “Any way you want,” he replies on a wink.

  I roll my eyes. “Lame. Can I have my beer, please?” He pops the cap while laughing and hands it over to me where I take a long pull. “Thanks.” I settle back into the couch, pulling my legs up underneath me.

  Elias stretches out with his feet pointing towards the opposite direction of mine, placing the popcorn bowl between us. He’s a comfortable movie companion. Some people can’t shut up during movies, but Elias does a good job at throwing out little comments but not trying to dissect and discuss the whole movie before it’s over. I like that. By the time the credits roll around, it’s nearing ten at night.

  “Are you awake enough to watch the next movie?” he asks.

  I try and fail to stifle a yawn. “Um, I think I can make it through one more.”

  He sits and hoists himself up to change out the DVD’s. When he returns to the couch, he sits down, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and pats his lap.

  “Come here. You can rest on me.”

  I scoot forward, laying my head on his lap. His hand falls gently to my head, softly combing his fingers through my hair. The gesture is relaxing, and shortly into the movie, I feel my eyelids get heavy. As my mind drifts, I realize sitting here with him is much more natural that I would have imagined. Maybe it is okay to let go and finally move on. I can feel Elias slowly mending the pieces to my broken heart, one by one, stitching them back into place.

  A sudden change in surroundings rouses me from sleep, and I crack open one heavy eyelid. Several moments pass before I realize I’m moving in a smooth swaying motion. Gently, my body settles on something soft, which through my sleepy haze I recognize as my bed. Elias presses his lips to mine.

  “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  I sense rather than see his body turn to leave the room. Before I know what I’m doing, my hand shoots out, latching on to his arm.

  “Stay.”

  “I am. I’ll be out on the couch. Go back to sleep.”

  “No. I mean, stay here. In my bed. With me.” The words are hard to find in my hazy mind, but I think I get my point across. Sleep is already pulling me back under, keeping me within its grasp.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Mmhm. Please.” I don’t know why I want him to stay so badly, only that being curled up in his lap stirred up feelings inside me I haven’t felt in a long, long time, if ever.

  Clothing rustles as I sense him strip off his shirt and slide off his pants before he’s slipping under the covers with me. Turning over, I snuggle my back to his front, and he slides one arm under my resting head. The other trails around my waist, under the hem of my shirt to lay pressed to my flat stomach. He nuzzles his face in my hair at the crook of my shoulder and neck. I release a contented sigh, my eyelids slipping closed once again.

  “Sleep, babe,” he says before kissing the back of my neck.

  “Mmhm.”

  The erratic beep-beep-beep of an alarm clock breaks through my dream, startling me. Opening one sleep heavy eyelid, I peer out into the room. It takes me a minute to comprehend why I feel like I’ve been sleeping in front of a bonfire. There is a very muscular, hot body wrapped tightly around me, pinning me beneath the surface of my blankets. I kick my feet, disentangling my legs from his, squirming and wiggling my torso trying to break free. Through all my wiggling, I bump into something hard poking me in my backside. I freeze my movements, listening hard for the steady rhythmic breathing coming from Elias. He squeezes me tighter, letting out a long sigh.

  “G’morning,” he says, his voice thick with sleep, and husky, and Oh God, I need to get out of here.

  “Um. Morning. Can you shut that damn beeping off?” I resume my wriggling now that I know he’s awake, trying to escape my embarrassment and his obvious morning wood.

  “Mmm, in a minute. Will you just hold still? This feels nice.” He nuzzles his face into my hair, breathing deeply.

  “Can’t. Breathe. It’s. Too. Hot,” I manage to gasp.

  He releases me, and I flip the blankets off us, fumbling out of bed to my feet. He rolls on his back to look at me, exposing the apparent tent in his boxers. As if by their own power, my eyes zero in, staring in a way that is entirely inappropriate. His amused chuckle breaks me out of my trance, and I scamper down the hall, mumbling something about needing the bathroom.

  Looking in the mirror, my embarrassment grows as I gauge my current state. My hair is matted and pushed up on one side, and my mascara is smeared beneath my eyes, as I had forgotten to wash my makeup off last night before bed. I wet a washcloth under the running water and concentrate on removing the remaining smudges off my face. Then, I pluck my toothbrush from the holder and clean my teeth before heading back into the bedroom.

  When I push the door open, I find a sexy, sleep rumpled, shirtless Elias sitting on the bed waiting for me. He looks up grinni
ng at the sound of the door.

  “Are you feeling all better?” he asks, holding his arms open for me. I crawl into his lap, slinging my arms around his neck.

  “Yes, thank you. I had to take care of my morning breath,” I reply, smiling back at him. His eyes are a light turquoise in the early morning sun. “What time is it?”

  “It’s about seven o’clock.”

  “Mmm, that’s good. I have some time before I have to get ready for work,” I say, my mind drifting to what I could spend that time doing.

  “And what is it you would like to do before you have to get ready?” he questions in a husky voice as if reading my thoughts, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, and gazing into my eyes. I can’t help the smile that appears on my face. Elias ignites the butterflies in my stomach like nobody has before. Being around him is intoxicating. I just can’t get enough.

  “I’d like you to kiss me. Right now.”

  He obeys, his lips claiming mine. He pulls me tighter to him, twisting my body so my legs are on each side of his hips straddling his lap. He winds a hand through my hair, tangling his fingers, holding my face tight against his.

  I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Which is good, because I don’t. I hold tight to the back of his neck, anchoring him to me, desperate to hang on as he skims his other hand up my thigh towards my hip. I am lost in kissing him, tasting him.

  His mouth opens to mine hungrily, taking quick nips and licks until he settles his teeth into my lower lip. The sensation causes me to moan, and he runs his tongue over the bite to soothe the sting. I can feel myself getting wet, grinding myself along the ridge of his thick erection, and in this moment of hungry tongue fucking, I realize I want this. I am ready for this, and I can feel that he wants me too.

  I’m no longer a one-night stand, afraid he will ditch me the moment he finishes his conquest. This is much more than that for both of us. He demonstrates it in every swipe of his tongue and touch of his hand. He’s holding me as if I’m much more precious to him.

  As I feel his thumb creeping upward towards the apex of my thighs, in a swift moment of bravery, I unclasp my hands from his neck, reach down, and pull the hem of my shirt over my head. Our mouths break to make way for the fabric. As my shirt settles on the floor somewhere behind me, my eyes lock with his, and they widen with surprise.

  “You are so beautiful,” he breathes, taking in the appearance of my bare skin. His hand slides down my back to unclasp the bra I forgot to take off before bed last night. He unclips the back, and I bring my hands up to ease the straps down my shoulders.

  His eyes are roaming my bare chest as if he’s fascinated by every single inch. He leans forward, eyes locking with mine as he takes the tip of my breast between his full, pink lips. His tongue roams over my tight nipple, making me moan in pleasure from the warmth spreading down my belly. With an arm wrapped around my back, he slowly kisses his way back up to the crook of my neck.

  His shoulders shake gently, and I’m so gone in my lust-induced fog, I almost miss his muffled chuckle.

  Almost.

  “Why are you laughing?” I ask my boldness dissipating, afraid he’s laughing at my body. I jerkily try to cover my bare chest.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s not you, I promise.” He shakes his head, his grin fading as he releases a breath. “It just struck me that your shades are open, and anybody on the street could probably see right in the window.”

  My lungs deflate rapidly with relief that he wasn’t laughing at me.

  “I’ve never really thought of that before. Should we put on a show?” I laugh, turning my body toward the window, feeling a bit reckless with the adrenaline that is running through my system. I crane my head to look out the window, as I’m sitting in Elias’s lap, and panic wells up inside of me.

  I fly off his legs, grabbing my shirt off the floor. Jamming my arms through the holes, my hands start to shake. “Oh my god.” I back away from the window slowly towards the door, covering my mouth with my hand.

  Elias jumps off the bed, coming towards me. “What did you see?” He walks over to the window. “I don’t see anything,” he says, shifting around my window frame looking for the source of my panic.

  “The car, Elias. It’s that blue car,” I tell him, trying to calm myself down. I’m shaking. Tears are blurring my vision. I sense the moment he spots the dark blue Impala parked across the street behind my car. His body visibly tenses in the window frame, his hands bracing himself on either side. The car is positioned so perfectly it would have a view directly into my bedroom window.

  “What is it doing here?” My words are nothing more than a whisper.

  “Do you know whose car that is?”

  “No. But it’s the same care from that night, isn’t it?” The words are hard to get out. They’re choking me. Then it strikes me, doubling my panic. “Elias…that car has been here before.”

  “When?” he asks, prowling to stand in front of me. He places his hands firmly on the slant where my neck meets my shoulders, looking me directly in the eyes while waiting for my answer.

  The touch soothes me even though my mind is wilding spinning with thoughts. “I don’t know, a few weeks ago. It was back when I first got the job at the law firm. I thought that maybe it was another tenant or something. But it was parked right behind my car, just like it is now.”

  “You didn’t realize that it was the same car when it tried to run you over a few weeks ago?”

  “No!” I shout. “I barely got a glimpse when my head was smashing into the pavement!”

  “The other night was not a random accident.” Elias scoots me to the side so he can exit my bedroom.

  “What are we going to do? Should I call the cops?” I ask, trailing after him.

  “I have a better idea,” he growls, slipping his shoes on and opening the front door.

  Skipping my own shoes, I follow him down the hall and outside onto the steps in the early morning cold. As I step around Elias, I notice someone who wasn’t there before. A tall, fair skinned, bald man. He seems casual leaning up against a telephone pole, taking long, slow drags from a cigarette as he stares up at the apartment building. Yet, something in his presence sparks a chorus of alarm to ricochet around my head.

  “Wait, don’t go down there!” My fingers curl into the back of Elias’s shirt, halting his descent.

  The driver must have spotted us, because the car abruptly pulls away from the curb and speeds off. In the early morning sun, I barely catch a glimpse of the man seated behind the wheel. I freeze with Elias’s shirt still clenched tightly in my fist.

  The panic and fear welling up inside of me suddenly morph into a fury so hot it shuts my brain down. The early morning chill, forgotten. The lack of shoes on my numb feet, forgotten. The man now pushing away and strolling down the sidewalk, forgotten. The blood is roaring through my ears, drowning out the sound of Elias’s voice trying to get my attention.

  “You can let go of my shirt now.” His hands grasp my shoulders, shaking me slightly. “Marlee?” He voice breaks through the barrier to my thoughts.

  “I know who it is. I know who is in that car.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s Travis.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Travis

  March 23, 2015

  Preston Brooks. Just reading his name turns my blood hot. Boiling anger runs through my body, fueling the hate, fueling the rage. The need for retribution is stronger than any desire, any passion I’ve ever felt before. I want to inflict pain. I want him to hurt. I want his family to suffer.

  I crumple up the news article I was reading and throw it towards the garbage. Who am I kidding; my whole apartment is nothing but garbage. The studio was three hundred bucks on a month-to-month basis. Cash. No name necessary. Untraceable and perfect for the undetermined amount of time I need it.

  Apparently, Preston won some fancy award for his charity work in the community. Donated some big bucks to help build a rec center for homeless kids
to come hang or some shit. Big fucking deal. He’s nothing more than a scumbag who couldn’t care less about anything but his own fame and deep pockets.

  Preston Brooks ruined my family. And I’m here to ruin his.

  Flipping through the manila folder on my cheap desk I found with a free sign on the side of the road, I pull out another news article. Except this one isn’t recent. No, this article dates back to August 23, 1998:

  MINNEAPOLIS HOUSEKEEPER BRUTALLY RAPED AT DOWNTOWN HOTEL

  I’ve read the article a hundred times, yet every time I do, I find myself thinking back to that day.

  I just turned five years old.

  The babysitter was too busy screwing her boyfriend in my mom’s bed to realize I was still awake.

  I sat in front of the 13-inch TV trying to find something to watch while I waited for mom to get home from work. That was the routine every night.

  When I’d hear the car pull up, I’d rush into bed, and satisfied that mom was home, I could sleep.

  Even at five years old, I was looking for someone to protect.

  Though I was only five and couldn’t tell time, I knew something wasn’t right when the clock said one-three-zero. Mom never got home later than one-one-zero. When Sara came out to send her boyfriend home, she seemed surprised to find me awake and alone.

  “Hey Trav, what are you doing out here, little buddy?” she asked me as if she cared. She was only worried about the ass chewing my mom would give if she knew I was still awake.

  “Bad dream,” I had lied, but it was enough for her to let me stay up while we waited for mom. I picked the eyes off the Scooby doo of my favorite pajamas. Five year old’s aren’t very patient.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly the door flew open. The sound startled me but that was quickly forgotten when my eyes fell upon my mommy crawling through the door.

  “Mommy?” I had questioned. “Mommy, are you hurt?”

  “Sara…call an ambulance,” she gasped, and then she went still.