by Lauren Runow
• Marry Me by Train
(Plays when Charlie and Allison bring Lyric home from the hospital.)
• Starships and Apocalypse by Unwritten Law
(The song that plays at the Unwritten Law concert.)
• Rest of My Life by Unwritten Law
(Charlie sings this to Allison when he proposes on stage.)
• My Town by Montgomery Gentry
(When Charlie is taking Allison to his childhood home this song comes on the radio.)
I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am for everyone who has helped make my dreams come true. First and foremost, I’d like to thank my husband Chris who has been so supportive through this entire process and put up with me sitting every night with my computer on my lap or a book in my hand. He’s even worked hard at trying to give me material to write about. I am forever grateful for his love and companionship.
Of course, I’d like to thank my best friend Sonia Aguero who has been there since day one of my journey, giving me her ideas, her feedback and of course just moral support. You can thank her for Paul, a name near and dear to her heart with the same dimples to match.
Thank you to my beta readers, Lacy Pryde, Angie Bates, Michelle Strand, Amy Gentili and Leah Purnell for all of your feedback and help making Rewritten what it is today.
Entering the world as an author has introduced me to some amazing people who I am forever grateful for, one of them being the amazing author, Jeannine Colette. Her first book, Pure Abandon, came out two months before mine and I have no clue what I would have done without her guidance. Her next book, Reckless Abandon, just came out and I highly recommend them both!
To my first official fans and creators of my street team, Lauren’s Law Breakers, on Facebook, I’d like to thank Giovanna Bovenzi Cruz, Aubrie Brown and Laurie Breitsprecher for their countless hours of promoting me and Unwritten on multiple pages through Facebook and Instagram. I can’t begin to tell you guys how much I appreciate everything you have done.
My dreams would not have come true without the help of Autumn Hull with Wordsmith Publicity and all of the bloggers who helped spread the word about Unwritten by posting cover reveals, teasers and writing reviews. Bloggers are such a huge part of the book world and us writers would be nothing without them so thank you!
Last, but definitely not least, I’d like to thank all the readers out there. An author would be nobody without their readers and I can’t tell you what it does to a writer, especially a new one, when someone you don’t know reaches out to you to tell you how much they loved your book. It seriously brings tears to my eyes every time I read your emails or posts. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!
Read an excerpt from S.L. Ziegler’s book, Fighting to Start.
Fighting to Start
By S.L. Ziegler
Prologue
Whoever said it’s better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all is lying.
Whoever said your first love is just a stepping-stone to one even better is bull-shitting everyone.
Whoever said a person that loves once can love again is sadly mistaken.
Whoever said love is enough to get through anything is deceiving you.
Everything about love is nothing but lies—big, ugly, nasty lies.
All of it.
Here’s the truth: it’s the biggest load of shit ever uttered. Love is only a tragedy. An emotion that leaves you empty, broken, and gutted. It takes everything from you until you’re dead on the inside—the pointless heartbeat in your chest is the only thing proving you’re still alive.
Because when you truly love someone with every ounce of yourself—with every breath you take—and they just up and leave you, it doesn’t just break you. It decimates you, starting slow from the inside and working its way out like a blazing fire. You carry on, but nothing of who you used to be survives. You will do anything to make the ache you feel inside go away, but nothing ever works.
If you do eventually pull it together enough to face the world again, you are anything but stronger. You’re not brave enough or prepared enough for another person to step in and take that place in your heart that once belonged to someone else. Because no matter how hard you try to pull yourself from their scorching grip, they will always have an unrelenting grasp on your heart, on your soul, on you—you will always belong to them.
You will always remember how that love made you feel — too much, too open, too alive—because loving someone simply isn’t enough.
How are you ever supposed to be able to let someone in when you will belong to another forever?
That answer is simple. You can’t.
But I sure as hell tried.
Chapter 1
Hadley
“Reed. Really, baby? Twice didn’t help you at all, did it?” I poke him in the ribs, trying to get off the bed. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him, running kisses up my shoulder to my neck. Goose bumps cover my skin at the feel of his lips on me.
“What fun is it to stop now? You are just too damn sexy for your own good and I can’t get enough. And I know if I keep going”—Reed glides his hand to my shoulder, moves my hair off my neck, and kisses me lightly behind my ear, sending chills through my body—“I will get you to forget about going to see that dumbass movie with your mom and come watch my fight.” Without warning, I’m flipped onto my back, Reed hovering over me.
I stare into his breathtaking hazel eyes, about to wrap my arms around him, when his phone chimes with a text message, interrupting us. Reed growls against my temple, “Cock blocker,” and kisses me one last time before getting up to look at his phone.
I can’t help but admire him as I push up onto my elbows. Reed looks like such a bad boy—defined muscles, colorful tattoos over his chest, arms, back, and down to his thighs, shaved head. He has it all in one nice six-foot-two-inch delicious package. And it’s all mine.
I could stare at him all day, but I didn’t have the time. I had the rest of my life to appreciate his physique, so I roll off the bed and pick up his boxers off the floor, throwing them at his chest with a smirk. He quickly grabs my arms, pulling me into him with a smile of his own. I knew what that grin meant. Lifting myself to my tiptoes, I give him a chaste kiss and whisper against his lips, “I love you.”
“Me too, babe.”
I walk away with a smile on my lips after he slaps my ass. I shake my naked hips a little, teasing him some more, and then hear his deep laugh as I walk the rest of the way to our closet. I grab the first thing that catches my eye.
A few minutes later, I come out dressed in my favorite pair of True Religion jeans, a plain fitted black shirt, and my black Chucks. Reed is sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over as he puts on his work boots. He must hear me approach, because his eyes lock with mine, awakening the butterflies in my stomach. Around Reed, I always have the fluttering in my belly, no matter how long we’ve been together. And I have no doubt in my mind how he feels about me. Whenever he looks at me, his eyes tell me everything I’d ever need to know. I have always seen the love Reed has for me, for us—even at the beginning when he’d tried his hardest to fight his feelings for me, I always knew it was there.
Now, two years later, Reed never hides it—not from me or from anyone else. My hair could be greasy, unwashed for days, I could be drenched with sweat from our runs, or have yesterday’s makeup smudged beneath my eyes, and he’d still look at me like I’m the only one in the room.
It’s the same way I look at him.
We fell recklessly and wildly in love with each other. It wasn’t normal or the falling-off-a-cliff type. It wasn’t running through a field of daisies, either. No, it was like jumping headfirst out of an airplane without a parachute, running through a burning building—the kind of love that feeds on one another, that takes hold of every inch of your soul, takes away every breath and leaves you feeling as if you’re just now experiencing life. The kind of love that only gives you two options: if it works out, you’ll
have lived with more love than most. You’ll be lucky enough to see everything for the better because that person is your better. But if it doesn’t work out, you are so utterly broken that you’re left beyond repair. Reed Collins is my once in a lifetime, the one people wait for, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m in deep—some say too deep. And just maybe they are right. Because now, I feel a changing in the air between us and I’m beyond scared shitless of what the next step with us is. Fights and underlying tension that never used to be there has put our once blissful relationship on unsteady and uncharted ground, and I don’t know how to handle it or what to do to make it better. But I will do everything in my power to keep it from falling away. I graduate in a couple of months with my nursing degree, and Reed is at the make-it or break-it point in his fighting career, causing us to walk this tightrope into the next chapter of our lives. I can only hope that as a couple, we are steady enough for everything the real world will be hurling at us soon.
The restlessness billows around him like a plume of smoke after an explosion, and I can see it by simply looking at him. It’s as if Reed has the weight of the world on his shoulders. My feet carry me to him and I straddle his legs, wrap him in my arms, and rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the tension literally loosen.
Reed, my boyfriend, and “Riker,” the fighter are two totally different people and I knew that the moment I saw him walk into the cage for the first time. The Reed I know is only shown to me—he’s sweet, caring, loving, and will protect me with everything he has. But “Riker” is all alpha, all the time. He sees one solution to any problem—fighting. The nickname “Riker” came from one of his many underground fights he used to do for money. Some old guy said he hadn’t seen someone fight like that since he left Rikers Island. The Riker part stuck and fits that side of him to a T. I learned a long time ago that you couldn’t love one without loving the other, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Reed has been busting his ass, training three times a day, six days a week, for the last four years to make a name for himself in Ohio and the surrounding states, but that’s not enough for him—Reed wants total domination. After all the time we have been together and all the fights I have seen him prepare for, I know today’s fight is different because he is different. He’s always hyped before a fight—it’s natural for him—but lately, he’s been on edge and I can’t figure out why. Riker seems to be showing up more and my loving boyfriend only comes out when I drag it out of him. It’s causing me to worry that something is happening, something he’s hiding. And whatever that something is, it’s big.
“Reed, what’s up with you lately? What aren’t you telling me?” I plead quietly as my lips graze his ear.
He holds a lot in. He’s been the strong, silent type for the two years we have been together, and it’s like pulling teeth to get any kind of information from him. I learned early on to just accept what he offers because each piece he gives knocks down a layer and shows me who he truly is.
Reed only shakes his head, silently dismissing my question. Not wanting to push him any further into silence, I attempt to get up, but he holds on to me tighter. Knowing his touch is my downfall, he’s using it to stop me.
“I know you promised your mom you will go to the movies, babe, but you rarely miss one of my fights, and with these…” He trails off and turns his head toward our nightstand where a framed picture of us sits.
“What is it, Reed?” I press for more, needing him to open up to me.
“I just want you there. That’s all. Plus, you know you’re my good-luck charm, Hads. I get all caveman with you there and can’t help but prove my manhood to my woman.” Reed jokes—it’s his way of telling me the conversation is dead.
His lips meet the middle of my forehead and rest there. I know if I keep pressing him, it will start yet another argument and he doesn’t need that before his fight tonight. So I give up yet again, pushing my need to know deep down in order to comfort him.
“Baby, I really wish I could, but you know my mom and I always go to the opening day of the movies to the books we read. She had this planned before the movie was even made and I can’t disappoint her. Not to mention, Riker Collins will undoubtedly kick this guy’s butt whether I’m there or not. And I won’t say it again. I’m not your good-luck charm. That red hat I gave you is. That’s your juju, not me. Courtney and I will meet you and Lance at the bar after, so you can tell me all about how you conquered this fight. We’ll have our celebratory drinks, get drunk off our asses, and you’ll forget all about how I wasn’t there. I’ll make you a promise though, and you know I never break one of those”—I wink teasingly at him—“this will be the last time I ever miss a fight of yours. I’ll be by your side so much that you will get sick of me and beg me not to be with you.” I wrap my pinky around his and lift our intertwined fingers to my mouth, laying a soft kiss on his.
With great force, I pull his arms and lead him to his feet. “Come on, we’ve got to get downstairs before my mom uses her damn key again.”
As soon as my foot hits the bottom step, my mother comes barging through the front door. My mom and boundaries don’t mix—not even close. I don’t think she will ever understand that I live with my boyfriend and, sometimes, privacy is needed. It’s a good thing that my parents spread out their time between Columbus and Atlanta, because I have a feeling she would be here all the time if not.
“Mom, we gave you a key for emergencies only. That doesn’t mean you can use it instead of knocking every time you come here.”
Reed, being so used to my mom barging in, just shrugs it off. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Look at the positive side, babe, at least you got her to stop coming over without notice.” He then goes to my mom and gives her a hug and a quick kiss on the check “Hey, Mrs. Thomas, how are you doing? I hope you ladies have fun tonight. I know how you two love those young sparkling vampires,” he says sarcastically.
My mother, Julie Thomas, is naturally gorgeous. She’s fifty-six years old but doesn’t look a day over forty without any help from cosmetic doctors. At five-four, she has a body that looks like she spends hours in the gym, even though she’s never stepped foot in one. She just has a naturally shaped and toned body—to everyone’s envy, but mostly mine. Her brown hair is shiny and always perfectly in place, and it complements her soft blue eyes well. As if that wasn’t enough to be jealous of, she also wears a natural glow all year around, never needing to waste time on getting a tan. It’s a real travesty that I’m adopted and didn’t get those amazing Thomas genes. My dad, William—a highly successful and powerful man—and my mom have been married for over the thirty-five years, which has given her plenty of time to channel her perfect trophy-wife look. I swear, she even sleeps in her makeup, Chanel, and flawlessly styled hair. She grew up with nothing, and always tells of how she was never able to play dress up. Apparently, she’s only making up for the lost time, although I think she’s spent more time making up for it than she actually spent without it. Her appearance is slightly deceiving, because she is the most humble person I know.
My parents’ story is one for the books, they were high school sweethearts, and both came from the same rough neighborhood in Columbus. My father wanted more out of life and decided to join the Army straight after high school, marrying my mom right before he shipped off to basic. He got my mom pregnant with my brother Mark within the first couple months of their marriage. Six years after that, my brother Matt was born, and that’s when my father left the Army. He started a business in security with his best friend, Joe, using the small inheritance he had received from my grandfather. Within ten years, they had built it into a multi-million dollar company. Now, they have their hand in everything and have been on the Forbes list of highest earners for the last ten years. Even with all that, my father still brings my mom breakfast in bed every Saturday and cherishes her like his own queen. I hated it growing up, but now, I just look forward to having what they do one day
with Reed.
They adopted me when I was a baby—Mark was sixteen and Matt was ten. With the huge age difference, I’m not really close to them, but neither has ever made me feel anything less than loved. Mark has always been more of a background brother, only showing up if I needed something, while Matt is the fun one—poor guy…I was the annoying sister that followed him around like a lost puppy half his teenage life. I learned early on that if I needed help with my homework, Mark was the one to go to, but if I needed to get away with anything, Matt was my guy. Those boys never made me feel anything other than a Thomas.
“Reed, I told you to call me Julie about a thousand times. And thank you, I know I will have fun. It is my darling Hadley who won’t, though. I know she will be thinking about you the whole time—and that thing you call work…fighting or whatever it is. She won’t even care about who is on the screen or that she is with me.”
My mom can’t fathom how Reed would want to try to make a living in the cage, but she’s never tried to understand it, either. My parents want his head in something that has a sure-future, but a sure-future career isn’t Reed. His life was unfocused and going nowhere before he found his love for boxing at twelve years old. He wrestled all through high school and had a ton of scholarship options, but he turned them all down to take up mixed martial arts instead. With his back ground in wrestling and boxing, he was a natural at it. Reed has since developed into an impressive fighter through the help of his best friend, Logan, and his coach/trainer, Kenny. He makes ends meet now by doing underground fighting and taking side security jobs through my family’s business. But mostly, he just trains, trying to make it in a sport that would rather see you fail than make it. But if they accept you into the sport that ninety-seven percent of people fail at, and you become that meager three percent, it’s paramount. But my parents don’t feel that it’s enough. They think it’s dangerous and nothing more than a hobby.
