by Alla Kar
Wrecked
by Alla Kar
2014 © Copyright Alla Kar
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any forms without written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and have not purchased it or won it in an author contest this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the eBook from one of its distributors.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storyline are created from author’s imagination or are used fictionally.
Credits
Cover by: Najla Qamber Designs
http://www.najlaqamberdesigns.com/
Editor: Deanna Genung
Dedication
To my husband. I love you.
Part One
The crash.
“I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you.”
-- Hoobastank
Chapter One
Bella
“So, are you going to tell him?”
My gaze snaps up from my bulging carryon to Emily’s wide green eyes. I groan as she lifts a blonde eyebrow slightly. “You’re joking, right?”
She looks over her shoulder and I don’t have to look to know who she’s looking at. Beau Richards. The man I almost got too carried away with two weeks ago at my apartment. The man that I’ve been avoiding for those said two weeks. And the reason why half of the female student body at UCA is interested in the wrestling team. Beau Richards.
“It’s going to eat you alive,” she says turning to face me. She has genuine worry on her face. And it has every right to be there. Because Beau isn’t just some random guy. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend. They’ve been best friends since elementary school, which makes it all the worse.
“I know you,” she says lugging her carryon down toward the seats in front of our terminal. “The guilt will eat you alive, Bells.” She grabs my forearm and pulls me down in the seat next to her. “Just tell Jordan the truth—it was an accident. You were drunk and couldn’t resist the pull of those baby blues.”
Anxiety turns in my stomach. I’m going to throw up. This trip seemed like a great idea when my counselor suggested I take it to go along with my three classes of Spanish. An entire hot, sunny week in Andalucía, Spain, in the name of learning for Spanish II. But I’ve sucked the fun out of it because I’m going to be with my boyfriend—that I truly do care about—and the man that makes my bones turn to goop with one look. His best friend.
And what Emily doesn’t know is that the guilt is already eating me alive. It’s pounding in my head and chest—like a heavy base drum, low and constant.
“But wait,” Emily says with her finger tapping her lower lip. “If you tell, he’ll think Beau is the reason why you haven’t said ‘I love you’ back to him yet!”
“Oh God,” I moan and bring my palms up to cup my face. “It’s not the reason—at all.”
The truth is that it started before I could remember. When my biological father abandoned me and my mother—no money or food. Just vanished. It burnt me to the core for so many nights. I wasn’t wanted. How could I trust myself with a guy if the person that I thought had to love me—couldn’t?
Emily sighs and rests her hands on my shoulders. Her big green eyes examine my face for a few minutes. “Okay, Bells. This is the game plan.” I almost smile at my best friend and her ability to make a plan at any given moment but then I see the rest of the Spanish class coming toward our terminal and my stomach churns.
When I let out a breathy sigh she looks over her shoulder and then turns back quickly. “Enjoy this week in paradise with your boyfriend. Avoid Beau and tell Jordan when we get back.”
The nervousness in my throat triples when I hear Jordan’s laugh behind me. I give Emily a quick nod right before I feel a kiss to the top of my head. “What are you two over here whispering about?”
Jordan pulls off his backpack and drops it in front of me. Jordan’s baseball cap is twisted around backwards and his dark hair is sticking through the front. The long lines of his face are strong. The slight cleft in his chin is scruffy with light brown hair. The side of his lip pulls up and I meet his dark gaze.
Emily swings her leg over her other one and wraps her fingers around her knee. “What fun would it be to tell?” she says giving me a quick sideways look.
I’m digging around in my mind for something to say—or do—when I feel it. The stare. That heated stare that’s been stalking me for the past two weeks. Then I see a pair of dark worn boots come into view.
Before I can stop myself, my eyes drift upward and meet his. I hold them just long enough to catch a glimpse of his baby blues and see his scruffy jaw clench before turning my body toward Jordan. “We were talking about the hot Spanish guy Emily is planning on finding. Her soul mate.”
Jordan rolls his eyes and elbows Beau who doesn’t take his eyes off of me. “Oh—here we go again!” Jordan laughs. “Emily and her Spanish lover.” Jordan grins at me and the dimple on his right cheek indents. I used to swim in those big chocolate eyes, and blush at that boyish smile.
I bite my lip and wait—but it doesn’t come. Even when I rake my eyes down his body and take in those slender swimmer’s hips. Or the cuts of his abdomen beneath his tight shirt. The attraction—desire—isn’t there and it kills me.
Guilt takes a vise like grip on my heart and squeezes.
It’s holding up banners with exclamation marks saying ‘I kissed your best friend!’ It’s all I’ve been able to think about. And the bad part is that it felt so completely and utterly right. Mind blowing. His large tanned hands caressing my ass. His deep voice singing along to the music playing softly in the background. The burning sensation that the scruff of his jaw left against my skin the entire ten minutes I sat staring at the door after he left.
His tall frame hovering over me and taking me to a place I always wondered what would be like. A place that I locked in the back of my mind since the first time I met him.
Then his unzipped pants and the shocked looks on our faces when reality suddenly set in, we scattered away from each other like scared teenagers. Horny scared teenagers.
I never felt those feelings with Jordan. Jordan was amazing. He turned me on. But I wasn’t just turned on with Beau—I felt alive. His voice—the way it dropped a few octaves when he strummed his guitar in my living room that night. I felt like I was freefalling into him with no doubt he would catch me.
In other words—I was fucking his. In every way possible.
“Baby,” Jordan says as he waves his hand in front of my face.
I blink a few times. “Yeah?”
The skin between Jordan’s dark brows pull in as he bends down in front of me. I examine his face in a desperate attempt to find that feeling. The sides of his mouth pull down into a frown and his chocolate eyes soften. He traces his index finger against my lips. “What’s wrong?”
Emily gives me—yet another—obvious sideways glance. But I quickly turn to look back at Jordan. “She looks nervous.”
All the air seems to have evaporated from the room. I try to take a steady breath and pray no one sees me shake. With all the control I can muster, I glance up at Beau. His E-cigarette hangs loosely from his lips. And I almost laugh at his desperate attempt to stop smoking—again. But I can’t laugh around him. I can’t even look at him for too long. The feelings swirl deep down in my gut. Like the feeling that you know—he is the one you really want to be with.
His brown hair is
still damp from his shower and a droplet trails down his neck to dissolve in his white T-shirt. The same brown hair I sank my fingers into two weeks ago.
“You’re nervous? I’m the one that’s supposed to be nervous.” Jordan is deathly afraid of flying. Always has been. “Not you. What’s got you nervous, babe?” Jordan asks.
Beau closes his eyes for a brief moment while he takes another drag.
“Yeah, what’s got you so nervous, babe?” The corner of his lip pulls up over the side of his smoke.
I clench my fingers around the strap of my bag and grind my molars together. The first week after the incident Beau tried to talk to me. Several times, actually. And when he realized I was avoiding him he became outraged—fucking crazy. The looks—let’s just say I’d be six feet under and counting.
I open my mouth when I hear the click clacking of Mrs. Arce’s heels against the airport floor. “Hola mis pequeños alumnos. ¡Qué pasa!”
Mrs. Arce swirls her large carryon around in front of her and pulls out a clipboard. Her long brown hair is in a stylish ponytail—that always looks perfect—and her brown eyes are wide and enthusiastic. “Okay, students! Gather around so I can call role!”
We all make a semi-circle around her as she checks us off her role in our Spanish name. I glance around our terminal. A small family sits to the side playing Miss Mary Mac with their little girl. She has bright red hair that’s braided down her back and pretty blue eyes. Next to them is a guy around our age on his phone. A few more couples and a handful of others are gathered around.
There aren’t very many people here but I guess that’s a good thing. Less lines in the bathroom. Hopefully a lesser chance of a terrorist attack. God—I would think of that.
It isn’t like my insanely informative step-father didn’t try and stick plane crash statistics in my head from day one, not knowing I knew he made those numbers up. I actually looked for myself. Fifty-two million to one is an odd I am willing to take to spend an entire week in Spain. He just isn’t too keen on me going but not for the reason anyone would think.
He doesn’t like me spending the night with Jordan. I know—it’s ridiculous because we basically live together now, but he has it in his head because we do have two separate apartments that they actually keep us separate. I didn’t tell him any different.
The intercom comes to life with a crackle that blasts across the terminal. “Boarding Flight 32B non-stop to Andalucía, Spain.”
Emily latches onto my arm and jumps up and down. Besides the guilt eating at the back of my head—I’m actually excited. I give her a smile and tuck my brown hair behind my ear. We’ll be in Spain in approximately nine hours and counting! “Students line up! Next stop is Espana!”
Everyone files into a line and we make our way through the gate. Jordan wraps his arm around my waist and nuzzles his mouth into my neck. “I’m so excited, Bells.” His lips skim the length of my neck while the luggage guy takes our baggage.
“Me too,” I say. “It’s going to be fun.”
He takes his cap off and places it on top of my head. The exact same thing he did the first time I met him. “One week of swimming in crystal blue waters,” he says, nuzzling his lips against my neck. “With you. My two favorite things in this world. Water and my girl.”
Sometimes I can’t imagine him loving anything as much as he loves the water. His mother says he has always loved the water and the one woman that steals his heart away from it is one lucky girl. But I know I don’t deserve that love. Not one bit. We load the plane and I turn my phone off before we’re told. Jordan interlaces his fingers with mine and brings my hand to his lips. “Was Beau right earlier?”
Right? About what? I swear sweat begins to build on my hairline. “Right about what?” I ask, trying my best not to look diagonally across from us at the back of Beau’s head.
“About you being nervous. Are you?” He grazes his lips against my knuckles. I wait for the butterflies but they—don’t come.
I swallow the large painful lump choking me and place my other hand over our interlaced fingers. “I’m just ready to be there.” I smile and poke his chest. “What about you? You’re the scared one.”
He leans back and gives me an uneasy smile. “I am not that scared. Just a little anxiety.”
I give him a nod even though I know he is petrified. He’s had nightmares for the last week about the plane ride. But I don’t mention it because we all have our fears.
Jordan gives me a wink before sneaking a peak at his phone. His mother is way worse than mine when it comes to being overprotective. I’m surprised she didn’t insist on coming up here and seeing him off.
Emily taps my shoulder and I turn to look at her between the seats. She grins ear to ear and darts her eyes toward Beau. “What was up with the hostility with him earlier?”
I sigh and give her a one shoulder shrug. “He’s been like that for about a week now. He’s pissed. And he should be. I ignored him—well, I’m still ignoring him—and I know I should talk to him but I don’t know how.” I groan and grab my head.
“Another headache?” Emily asks, reaching inside her purse as I nod. She pulls out a bottle of pills and hands me one. “Take one of these. They’re for motion sickness. You’ll sleep for a while.”
I grab the pill and dry swallow it. “Thank you.”
I hear Jordan call Beau’s name and I frown at Emily. She bites her bottom lip and starts to dig around in her bag. When she comes back up she’s holding her IPod. “I know this always makes you feel better,” she says.
“Because,” I say grabbing it—which she already has in a waterproof seal—from her hand and slipping her headphones on. “You have the best playlists ever. One for every occasion.”
She gives me a fake bow and grabs her kindle. “I’m ready to turn this bad boy on. I have many worlds to transport myself into.”
I lift a brow. “Who’s the lucky fictional boyfriend today?”
She gives me a wicked smile. “Remington Tate, baby.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to the front. I never understood the idea of a book boyfriend. I always felt real ones just had to be better. Or—I hoped. But I never completely believed my words until two weeks ago—because I can’t imagine a fictional character giving me the pleasure like Beau did.
The flight takes off twenty five minutes later and I’m already feeling the pill Emily gave me. A pretty flight attendant comes by and offers us food and water but my eyes are drifting shut.
Jordan says something to her and I feel his mouth against my cheek. “Rest, Bells.”
And everything goes still.
***
The blue—almost clear—ocean I’m imagining is slowly blurring as it sinks away from me. The warm sand beneath my fingers evaporates. My lounge chair disappears but something jolts me away from the feeling of losing my perfect dream— and it hits me hard.
All my senses snap to attention at once. When I sit straight up, a feeling of unease sets in my lower stomach. A scratchy voice blares over the intercom and the noise thumps hard against my skull. “Stay in your seats. We are experiencing an engine malfunction. Do. Not. Panic.”
Christ. Jordan’s voice is loud in my head but I can’t focus to think about it. He is jerking me hard but—everything is fading in and out.
“Bells! Listen!” Jordan screams. When I look over his eyes are filled with tears and then I see him. Beau is standing beside Jordan as the flight attendant tries to calm everyone down and tosses Beau a dirty look for standing up.
But I know. Just by making eye contact with him that we’re crashing. In the chaos I feel Jordan jerk me again and force me to look at him. “Calm down, Annabel! Calm down.”
I can’t answer. The sound of the wind outside of the plane is loud and vibrating in my ears. My breath is coming in deep slow gasps. And I just now realize I can’t catch my breath. I can feel each rugged jerk of Jordan’s hands but I’m not the one panicking—he is. I just need—silence.
&n
bsp; Emily’s hand grips my shoulder from behind and I then see the fear etched into her face. Her pale blue eyes are scared. Tears are streaming down her pale cheeks. We are crashing. “I love you, Bells,” she mouths.
But before I can answer, Jordan is snatched up from his seat and shoved into the vacant seat next to him. His body is replaced by him. And it’s the only thing in the chaos that I can focus on.
“Breathe, Bella,” Beau whispers. My gaze locks with his and I take each deliberate breath to match his even ones. He runs his fingers against my jaw and guides me down to the floorboard. “Brace your knees against the back of this seat and put your head between your legs. We’re going to be fine, Bella.”
I do as he says without a word. Words aren’t even fathomable right now. We’re crashing. We’re going to die. I feel the plane take a nosedive and it seems every passenger is screaming now. The pilot is telling everyone to calm down and get in their positions over the speaker but most are crying. Screaming. The lights begin to flicker on and off and then everything is shutting down—fast.
Beau turns back to help Emily and I’m now looking at Jordan. He reaches over and presses his thumb to my cheek. “We’re going to be fine, Bella. I love you.”
Those dark brown eyes begin to fill with tears and we both know we’re not going to be fine. In that moment I open my mouth to speak when another round of pleas fill the air. The fear is clamping down on my throat making it hard to breathe.
Jordan’s bottom lip trembles but he doesn’t move toward me. He stays still until Beau fills the space between us. Then I feel four gentle fingers trail down my wrist and take my hand. “Think about something. Anything. Focus on it now.”
I don’t look—I just do as he says. I listen to the smooth sound of his voice with my eyes pressed tightly shut, as he tries to calm me. But he doesn’t know that his voice is the only reason I’m calm. His presence. His calm is my calm.