(Keep flipping for a note from the Author and deleted scenes!)
Acknowledgments
There were so many times I wanted to throw in the towel while working on this novel. What should have been an easy clean up turned into six months of long days and sleepless nights to rewrite Annie’s story the way it should have always been told. But the truth is, it wouldn’t have happened without some AMAZING people pushing me forward.
I decided not to name names but instead to only use hashtags. It’s more fun for people to guess ;)
HashtagsForAcks
NotIFbutWHEN
MyFuckingFish
TWOTProtector
TheGoldenBaby
editWhore
MyPerson
TheForgottenTWOT
OtherHalfOfTheBrain
MotherOfTheYear
MyTinyDancer
MyReason
ThankYou
Whips&Spanks
4
TWOTs
SnookySnooky
About the Author
Stephie Walls is a literary whore - she loves words in all forms and will read anything put in front of her. She has an affinity for British Literature and Romance novels and an overall love of writing. She currently has eight novels out, four short stories, and two collections; all provocatively written to elicit your imagination and spice up your world. She has another novel on its way to bookshelves. Be on the look out for Redemption in the summer of 2017!
For all things Stephie:
@StephieWalls
StephieWalls2014
www.StephieWalls.com
[email protected]
Also by Stephie Walls
Beauty Mark
Fallen Woman
chimera
Metamorphosis
Compass
Strangers
Bound (Bound Duet Book #1)
Note from Stephie
Regarding Delete Scenes
Hey there!
So Bound and Freed have been a labor of love and one I didn’t enter into lightly. Both books underwent extensive beta reading which resulted in five complete re-writes of Bound and almost as many of Freed.
During my final round of beta reading for Freed, the consensus was the Prologue and first four chapters didn’t move the story in the direction I wanted it to go at the pace I thought readers would be happy. So, I deleted 27K words from the book you just read. I was able to weave some of those scenes, or pieces of them, back into the final version of Freed, but most of it ended up on the editing floor.
My concern in eliminating those chapters was the backstory I was cutting out with it. I know there are readers who won’t feel like they have a complete story without Brett and Annie’s courtship, and I didn’t feel I could do that justice without writing a novel between Bound and Freed which simply wasn’t in the cards.
So if you’re curious about the years leading up to the start of Freed, their dating relationship, Annie’s struggles in counseling—read on! I think you’ll agree I made the right decision taking them out, but here they are in UNEDITED form.
Stephie
xoxo
Deleted Scenes
PROLOGUE
I had no intention of following through with this, but once we got upstairs and more alcohol ran down my throat, I found myself wrapped up in a hot guy’s arms. He was vaguely familiar, but I didn’t ask his name because that would have implied I cared. I was having a hard enough time staying on my feet as drunk as I was, and placing where I knew this guy from was out of the question. He assumed I knew who he was when I allowed him intimate contact—maybe it was a little over the top. My ass ground into his crotch, with one of his arms around my waist, the other stroked the length of my body. Feeling the music, the sensuality of it, letting it flow through my limbs into his, I glimpsed Lynn and Jenny from the corner of my eye. They were arguing with Gray, but I couldn’t hear the disagreement over the music. My head found the mystery man’s shoulder, exposing my neck; he made a move to kiss the sensitive skin. I gave way to the weight of my head, allowing it to lean to the side and provided him greater access and then saw Lynn lose her position in front of Gray. He was barreling toward me after throwing a beer bottle in the trash can ten feet from him. He was pissed. I grinned at him and continued my seduction on the male fortress behind me, that was until Gray was within reach.
His fingers curled around my bicep a little too forcefully for my liking causing my head to jerk up, and Mr. Hotness lost his hold on me.
“What the hell, Gray?” I barked as he lurched forward, grabbing me away from my dance partner.
“What the fuck are you doing, Annie?”
I wasn’t sure if he was as ticked off as he seemed to be or if the booze was clouding my judgment. “I’m dancing. What does it look like?” I retorted.
“It looks like you’re having sex on the dance floor like a whore while a room full of people watch.” I stood stock-still, and my mouth fell open when my wet dream, Mr. Hotness, came to my defense.
“Gray, man, what’s your problem?” Mr. Hotness had a smooth, deep, sexy voice that made my body vibrate from a foot away. It dawned on me, like a load of bricks landing in my lap—he knew Gray.
“Brett, that’s my fucking girlfriend you’re all over!” Gray couldn’t be more than two inches from Mr. Hotness’s face screaming. I now realized, he was one of the two guys who heard my proposal at the DC years ago. Holy mother of God, Satan was laughing his ass off at me right now, doubled over, unable to control the tears flowing from his hysterical cackling at the shitstorm that had become my life.
Brett never lost his calm demeanor. “Actually, Gray, my understanding is you guys broke up months ago. Did I get the wrong memo?” Oh, hell, he snaked his arm back around my waist and pulled me to his side protectively. Gray was going to flip shit.
“That’s not the point. She’s off the market to my friends.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we aren’t friends then, isn’t it, Gray?”
I imagined Gray punching the smirk off his face, but it didn’t happen.
Brett glanced down at me. “You want to get out of here?”
As much as I didn’t want to do it, I knew it would hurt him, but I had to walk away from Gray. He had to see he didn’t own me, didn’t control me anymore, that he had given me up. He’d never know how much pain it caused me to look at Brett and kiss him on the cheek.
“Sure, let me tell my friends I’m leaving. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”
“Sure.”
I parted from him to let Jenny and Lynn know I was leaving with Brett when I heard him say to Gray, “You’re a total dumbass to have ever let her walk away.”
I didn’t hear Gray’s response over the music and the distance I’d put between us, but I got to hear it a moment later when his hand was back on my bicep.
Ripping my arm out of Gray’s grasp, I stared up at him. Completely intoxicated, it took a lot more effort than normal, that eight-inch height difference played havoc when my equilibrium was off kilter. Those blue eyes rocked me to my core, but I stayed strong. “What’s with you?” I snarled at him but kept from stomping my foot like a child.
“You can’t be serious about him?”
“I’m not serious about anything other than having a good time tonight. If that’s with Brett or someone else, it really doesn’t concern you. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m leaving.”
“Don’t do this, baby.”
“Do what, Gray? Leave with some other guy? Last time I checked, you gave up the right to have any say in my life. If you didn’t want me to leave with another man, you shouldn’t have given one the opening.” I didn’t wait for a response. I walked away, waving over my shoulder to my friends, who couldn’t have been happier I was leaving with someone other than my ex.
When I got home, thanks to Brett, who was a complete gentleman, I asked him to walk me to my door. He helped me up the stairs but refused to come inside.
&n
bsp; “Annie, I think you’re a great girl, and I would love to take you out some time if you want to go. Tonight, you needed to show him you could stand on your own; you’re not bound to him, and I get that, even if I was just a pawn.” He held my head in his hand, stroked my cheekbone with his thumb, and then lightly kissed my lips. The electric shock I got from Gray wasn’t there, but it definitely sent tingles to my girly spots. It had mad potential—that was all I could say.
“Brett, I didn’t set out to pit you against Gray. Honestly, when I ran into you, I was so drunk, I knew I recognized you, but couldn’t place where from. If I had, I wouldn’t have put you in the position to face him.”
“I didn’t figure you made the connection. You’re too sweet for that kind of thing, but I would like to see you again.”
I nodded my head in agreement, and he handed me his business card with his cell number on it, although I already had one…somewhere.
I took his face in my hands and pulled his lips toward mine, confirming my desire to see him again. When I released his face, he stood back up. The smile on my face was so big it hurt. I stepped inside while I said, “Good night.” The grin remained long after I closed the door behind me. It felt good to be wanted by someone else, even if I didn’t know what his motivation was. I wanted to ride the high before it wore off; I pulled my phone from my pocket, typed in his number, and sent him a quick text:
Me: Thanks for being my knight in shining armor
Brett: No problem, sweetheart
Me: Can I see you tomorrow?
Brett: Absolutely
That night started a slow progression toward a relationship. True to his word, I woke up the next morning to a voicemail from Brett asking me to call him. As I cleared the sleep from my eyes, my smile widened at the thought of seeing him. I glanced at the clock, realized it was almost eleven, and pressed send to return his call.
He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Annie!” He clearly hadn’t just woken up. His warm, smooth voice sang a melody straight to my heart.
“Hey.”
“How’s your day been?” he asked.
“Umm…give me a couple hours to get it started, and I’ll let you know.” My head was pounding from the hangover, but memories of last night began to flood my memory.
He laughed. “Rough morning, huh? I was afraid you might not feel up to going out tonight. We can reschedule.” The disappointment was evident in his tone even if he was trying to be considerate.
“Nah, I just need some Starbucks and Tylenol. Once I get moving, I’ll be good as new. You’re not trying to cancel on me, are you?” My voice was certainly more playful than I currently felt, but I wanted to see him regardless of how miserable I was. My stomach filled with anxious butterflies like a giddy schoolgirl.
“Absolutely not. Why don’t we keep it low key? There’s a little French restaurant down in Falls Park called Passerelle Bistro, I’ve heard great things about. We go could there for dinner and stroll around downtown afterward. Why don’t I pick you up around seven?”
“Great. See you then.”
“Bye, Annie.”
With that, we disconnected. My mind immediately started racing. Gray and I never went to French restaurants; my wardrobe was a little lacking. I thought it was a safe assumption that jeans, concert tees, and Docs weren’t going to work for a night out with Brett.
Scrolling through my contacts, I hit send when I stopped on Lynn’s name. When she answered, she sounded like she felt as good as I did. “Lynn! It’s Annie.”
“Damn, Annie, I know who it is. Your name shows up on the caller ID. What are you doing up so early, and why do you sound like you just ran a mile?”
“First of all, it’s after eleven. Second, I just got off the phone with Brett. We have a date tonight.” The seriously girly noise that exited my mouth was indicative of my excitement. “I need your help. He wants to take me to Passerelle Bistro downtown. I have nothing to wear.”
“Slow down. Did Brett spend the night last night? Holy shit, Annie, way to go you jezebel!”
“Noooo! He did not spend the night. He didn’t even come in after we left Wild Wings. He escorted me home like a gentleman. We just talked on the phone, and he asked me if I wanted to go out. So are you going to help me or not?”
“That sucks! My fantasy was way more exciting than your actual evening. Who the hell leaves a bar drunk with a guy that hot and doesn’t sleep with him?”
“Didn’t you just get married?”
“Details, details. Just trying to live vicariously through you, Annie. So tonight, what time is he picking you up?”
“Seven.”
“Okay, I’ll be there at five thirty to work my magic. Don’t worry, sweet girl, I gotcha covered.”
Promptly at five thirty, Lynn showed up carrying her makeup case, another bag full of hair things, several dresses, and at least five different pairs of shoes. She stormed through my front door with her arsenal and shooed me to the shower to wash my hair. I’d spent the day on the couch hoping to feel halfway human tonight, and she claimed she couldn’t work with the stinkiness from the night before still radiating off me. Appearing in the bedroom clean with dry hair, I twirled around to get her attention. Lynn rolled her eyes as she motioned me to take a seat on the bed. Once situated, she began the fashion show, showing me the dresses she brought and their coordinating shoes, and giving me an idea of what she wanted to do with my hair for each. My head was spinning with choices—this wasn’t my domain. “Lynn, you’ll have to make the decision. Just keep in mind, comfort over fashion, please.”
“Okay, then I guess I should eliminate the more formal options.” She sighed as though she was irritated with me, but beamed when she flashed her eyes back up holding the most gorgeous maxi dress I had ever seen. The opulent blue was more royal than midnight, but dark, and shimmered with different hues when the light reflected off the silky material. Cream-colored, lace chevron stripes, covered the dress from top to hem, and thin little straps created the shoulders. Simple, elegant. Paired with a cream cardigan and brown leather flip-flops adorned with brown glass beads, which were dainty in their own way, it all fit perfectly. But most importantly, gazing at my reflection in the mirror after I slipped it over my head, I didn’t look like I was trying to dress up. “Now, hair. I realize you like to pull your hair up because there’s so much of it, and it’s easier for you, but…men want it down. They visualize themselves pulling it, thinking of sex, and it will make him want you more.”
“Where do you come up with this crap, Lynn?” It was difficult not to laugh at her. She acted like she was an expert on men, but she’d been with her husband since she was sixteen. To my knowledge, she had never dated anyone else.
“It’s true! You said yourself Gray had some weird fascination with wrapping your hair around his wrist and fisting it while you had sex. Doesn’t that prove my point?”
“You’ve put way too much thought into this, Lynn, but I’ll trust your judgment. Down it is.”
“No, not just down. Soft, loose curls. Damn, Annie, you want him to think you put some effort into your appearance.”
“Actually, I’m rethinking this all together. Doesn’t that just give Brett a false sense of who I am? I mean, all he’s ever seen me in is work attire.”
“Not true. He saw you last night with your girlfriends in your typical boy garb of jeans, a ratty tee, and those damn combat boots. Just let him think you’re well rounded, he’ll learn the truth if he sticks around long enough, and by then he’ll love you, and it won’t matter. Come on, Annie. He’s not Gray. He’s the epitome of GQ. He dresses better than most women I know and is crazy gorgeous. You better up your game if you want to hang on to him. He could have any runway model he wants, and let’s be honest, Annie—when you’re in your comfort zone, you’re definitely more of the girl next door.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. Why don’t I go flush myself down the toilet now?” I said laughing.
She was r
ight. Brett could snag any woman he wanted off his looks alone, but if that’s what he was after, I wasn’t the girl he needed anyhow. She finished setting massive curls in my long locks while she insulted me, playfully. Lynn waved her hand for me to throw my hair over and back to soften the look and then started in on my makeup. When she reached for dark eyeshadow, I stopped her.
“Nope, nope, nope! Try again. I don’t do heavy makeup, you know that.”
“Annie, makeup gets darker as the day wears on. If you were going to lunch, your typical lip gloss application would be okay. You’re not. You’re going out to dinner at a nice restaurant downtown after seven. Trust me on this. You need heavier color.”
“No, Lynn. Blush, mascara, lip-gloss. I can handle those; otherwise, I’ll forget I’m wearing it and end up smearing it all over a white napkin or, even worse, his shirt. I’m standing firm on this to avoid embarrassment.”
“Fine. But I promise you won’t get lucky tonight.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at her. At no point in time had I indicated I was interested in sleeping with Brett or anyone else.
“Stop laughing! You're leaking tears, and it will ruin the mascara!” She was on the verge of a full-blown tantrum, which included stomping her feet.
“I’m sorry, Lynn. I’ll try to control myself.” I beamed at her, trying to contain my laughter and regain my composure. Bless her heart.
I had zero desire to get lucky tonight or anytime in the near future. I’d be thrilled with some decent conversation and a man who respected me. Gray had left my psyche in a disheveled mess. I had lost the me I’d fought to be after Will died. The girl who had struggled to find an identity had willingly given it away while attempting to be anything Gray wanted in order to hold on to him. I hadn’t grown while I was with him. In many ways, I had regressed—everything I’d learned in counseling about love and self-respect went out the window. The only “growth” I had with Gray was in my sexual prowess, and I didn’t think that would help me.
Lynn put the finishing touches on my appearance with a simple silver necklace and small silver hoop earrings, just as the doorbell rang. “I’ll get that, Annie. I’m going to run this load of stuff out to my car, anyway.”
Freed (Bound Duet Book 2) Page 28
