by Leaona Luxx
Wrecking Us, Saving You
Leaona Luxx
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Author’s Insight
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Acknowledgments
About Leaona
COPYRIGHT
© 2018 Wrecking Us, Saving You by Leaona Luxx
All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Wrecking Us, Saving You is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.
Editing and Formatting by Masque of the Red Pen
Cover Design by Moonstruck Cover Design and Photography
To you ~ my reader...thank you for your continued support. I’m humbled.
When I started this journey, I was told to ‘write what you know’. Well, that’s family. I know families. After my first two books in The Cove Series, I moved to the next series with every intention of coming back to Chord’s story.
I knew it had to be special because I needed to redeem The Cove Series. It was my first love and closely reflects my family. Lea is my middle name, Malone is my husband’s grandfather’s name and Lloyd, my grandpa.
I waited and wrote until the perfect cover came along. I’m different. Yeah, I know you noticed. I always have a cover and blurb before the story. It drives me and the words from the character’s themselves.
Chord and Sarah’s story is one of redemption for more than just them. This is my redemption. I wanted, no, needed a BIG BOOK, one that yells for it to be seen. Their story is heart-wrenching and one that can be seen in anyone’s family.
Open your heart and let them in, you won’t be disappointed.
Lea~
Sitting in my room, I’m playing with my old rabbit when a loud sound echoes from the living room. Standing, I tiptoe over, easing my door open, cringing in hopes it doesn’t creak. I peek out just as the banging makes the walls vibrate again.
I stretch my neck to see if my mom’s door is still shut. I chew on my nail, trying to decide if I should answer it or not. Knowing if I do and it’s someone she doesn’t want to see, I’ll get in trouble. But if it wakes her up, she’ll be mad anyway.
I sprint to the door like a church mouse, hurdling clothes and boxes still in the way from our move. The door shakes again with a hammering fist. I stop long enough to peep out the window to see who it is.
A woman with long black hair stands on the stoop. Her blue suit is pretty, but when I notice the papers in her hand, my belly flips. “Oh, no,” I whisper as I hurry to unlock the door.
I can hear my mom coughing in the other room, I know I’m running out of time. I jerk the door open, rushing through it, shutting the door behind me. My eyes wide, I hold my breath as I wait for her to speak.
“Sarah?” Her brow furrows as I quickly nod. She squats in front me, offering me her hand. “Hi, I’m Maggie.” My eyes flicker from her face to her hand as it hangs in the air for me, but I don’t take it.
“What do you want?” My legs unsteady, I keep watch behind me.
Her eyes narrow, a smile plays on her lips. “Well, I’m here to talk to your mom. You, sweetie, should be in school.”
My mouth pops open, my mom isn’t going to like this. “She worked late last night, she’s still sleeping,” I answer with our old standby story.
“Well, I’ll come in and wait for her to get up.” She grins. I shuffle my feet, racking my brain to come up with an excuse to get rid of her.
“She’ll be asleep for hours. If you want to give me the papers, I’ll make sure she gets them,” I plead with a weak smile as my stomach flips.
“You’re a bright little lady, Sarah, but I have to speak to your mom.” Just as I’m about to come up with another excuse, the door swings wide. I jump, turning to find my mom glaring at us.
She squints as her yellow hair flies wildly around her face when she steps out on the porch. Her eye makeup is smeared down her cheek as she straightens her tank over her belly.
“Sarah, get in the damn house,” she grumbles, pulling me by my shirt as she turns her venom on our not so welcome guest. “What the hell do you want?”
“Are you Lisa Smith?” Miss Maggie asks as she squares her shoulders.
My mom snarls as she takes a drag from her cigarette. “What of it?”
“As far we can tell, you’ve been here for two weeks, and Sarah needs to be in school,” she explains. “Unless you can provide an excuse for her absences.”
Mom blows her smoke in the lady’s face. “Well, we just moved here. I ain’t had time to get over there to enroll her.”
“I have her paperwork. I can also give you the bus schedule, she can start tomorrow.” Miss Maggie digs through her papers.
“Oh, good.” Mom rolls her eyes. “Sarah, get over here and get your school stuff.”
Maggie’s face grows soft as she kneels to talk to me. “Sarah, the bus runs at eight. The driver’s name is Amy and it’s bus number one-five-eight-nine. Your teacher is Miss Stafford,” saying as she points to the paper. I nod, hoping to hurry her along.
“Do you know the room number?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t. I’m sure someone will be able to show you once you’re there.” She rubs my arm.
“Alright, what else do you need? I’m sure her old school has already sent everything over there,” Mom spouts.
“I believe they did,” saying as she stands, “considering I found you.”
“Wonderful, I guess that’s all you need then.” Mom wraps her fingers around my wrist, pulling me with her.
“Sarah, if you need me,” Maggie says in a flurry as my mom shuts the door in her face. “Your teacher can help.” I hear her muffled voice yell from behind the closed door.
My hand begins turning red as her grip tightens. She slings me around, tossing me like a rag doll onto the couch. “What in the hell are you thinking answering the damn door?”
“I-uh, thought I was helping.”
“Helping? Why
in the hell would you think that?” She leans down, getting in my face. I tremble, knowing she’s getting mad. Real mad.
“I’m sorry, momma,” I stutter. “I won’t do it again.” Even though I see it coming, the pain of my punishment rests on my cheek. She’s in my face again, her long black nail pushing on my nose.
“Don’t fucking do it again.” I snub as tears flood my eyes. “Now, get outta my face,” she snarls. I scurry past her, escaping to my room.
I examine my face in the mirror of my broken jewelry box. Her print blazes on my cheek as I dry my face with my shirt. I sit, snubbing, in the back of my closet. It’s dark but I prefer it in here than any other place.
In my own world, I can pretend to be on an adventure. Hiding away from the monsters trying to take me. I can pretend to be a princess, locked in a tower, waiting to be rescued from the dragon.
I learned early to stash some cereal and crackers in my room, I never know when I’ll be stuck in here for hours at a time. I check the bag with the light that’s streaming through the crack in the door.
Sometimes, there are bugs in my food. I even had a mouse once but, Mom killed it. We haven’t lived at the house long enough for anything to be in here, that’s usually when they make us move.
“Sarah!” Mom yells from the other room, making me jump. I slide the door open, crawling out as fast as I can. It’s dark out now. I stumble through my room, hurrying to her. I walk into the kitchen to find her at the front door.
“Are you leaving?” I watch as she slathers on red lipstick in the mirror by the door.
“Yes”—she cuts her eyes at me—“and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll not answer the door while I’m out.” She rubs her lips together before turning to me. “I’ll be back later. You need clothes for tomorrow, find some.”
I pick my nail until she’s out the door, locking it once she’s gone. I turn to the kitchen to find some food. I search the cabinets, finding a jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers.
My belly growls as I slather on the creamy goodness, thankful for the soda in the fridge. I eat in a hurry, so I can find my clothes and shoes for tomorrow. Mom hasn’t turned the water on yet, so it’s gonna be hard to find something clean.
My jeans are an inch too short, and the shirt I have is a wrinkled mess. I pull at the blue shirt after hanging it up, in hopes of straightening it out. I check the buttons to make sure there’s enough of them.
Digging through a box, I find some sneakers, a tad too small and one needs laces. I find another string, it’s a little too short but I’ll make it work. I don’t even look for a backpack or school supplies, I know I don’t have any.
I wander around the kitchen looking for something to brush my teeth with. “Maybe Mom has a bottle of water?” I run to her room, terrified of the dark but even more afraid she’ll catch me.
I slap at the light, squinting as it comes on. Immediately, I spot a half bottle on her nightstand and another on her sink. I scurry to the kitchen, grabbing a cup. I take half of the bottle on her sink and a little more from the one beside her bed. “She’ll never miss it.” I smirk, proud of myself.
I hide it in my bathroom cabinet, putting toilet paper in front of it to keep her from finding it. I dust my hands, putting them on my hips. I have no idea how I’ll wake up in time tomorrow.
“If I go to bed now, when Mom comes home, I can stay awake and won’t be late for school.” I climb into bed, pulling my blankets up to my neck. I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable when a light catches my attention.
I left the light on over the stove. She’ll be furious if it’s still on when she comes back. The trailer has two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a living room and a kitchen with the bedrooms on opposite ends.
I slide from the bed, easing over to my door. I peek through the crack, searching the space. I run full stride to the light, my feet slapping against the floor. I push the chair over to the stove, biting my lip as I look over my shoulder. I flip the switch as I jump from the chair.
The room is pitch black, not even a light from outside shines a path. I hurry as fast as my feet will carry me, tripping over obstacles as I dive into my bed. I scurry to cover my head, waiting for the monsters to come.
I stick my head out of the blanket, checking to see if I can breathe without screaming. I spot a bright star twinkling in the sky. I grin as one of my favorite songs come to mind.
“Standing next to her is like standing next to a thousand suns, not a cluster of stars could outshine; I knew that a part of her belonged to the world, but the world that is within her, is all mine.” It’s all I know of the song, so I repeat it until I fall fast asleep.
What feels like minutes later, a crashing sound startles me from my sleep. I tremble with fear, waiting for the monsters to grab me. “Settle down, big guy. We don’t wanna wake the neighbors.” I hear my mom giggle.
“Hell, fuck ‘em. I just don’t want to have to deal with my girl.” A bright light shines from the kitchen, and my mom walks through to my room.
“Girl? There’s a little girl here?” The words come out rough and garbled.
“Shhh. Yeah, she’s asleep,” Mom says as she closes my door.
I lay as still as possible until I hear her bedroom door shut. I take a deep breath to slow the flip flops in my belly. I hate it when she brings weird people home, especially men. I toss and turn, doing my best to not fall back to sleep.
As the sun begins filtering through my window, I know morning isn’t far behind. I creep to the bathroom to brush my teeth, washing my face as best I can. I have just enough water to get everything done.
I search drawers and boxes trying to find a brush, with no luck. I gather my hair as best as I can and wrap a band around it. After I dress, I walk out to the stoop and wait.
When I see other kids walking to the bus stop, I know to follow them. I notice some of them look like I do. Their clothes are wrinkled, shoes mismatched, and hair that sticks up in different places.
I step onto the bus to find much of the same, and there’s no one to sit with. I take a seat a few rows behind the driver and settle in; my belly rolls, and I think I might have butterflies in it.
“Hey, sweetie”—the driver looks at me through her mirror—“what’s your name?”
My eyes flicker to her, I’m not sure I should answer. I smash my lips together as I consider telling her. I bite the corner of lip buying time. My tummy doesn’t feel weird, and it always does when something isn’t right. “It’s-uhh...”
Her face softens as she tilts her head. “I need to write it down in my book, that way we can make sure you get home.”
I take a deep breath. “Sarah, with an h, Sutton.”
“Well, hello, Sarah, with an h, Sutton. Nice to meet you, I’m Amy.” Her mouth stretches wide as she winks at me.
I sit quietly, watching other kids get on the bus and find seats. No one offers to sit with me, but I’m used to it. Back home, no one really liked us. Other mommies would tell their kids to stay away from me.
As the bus comes to a stop, I stare out the window to the large, brick building in front of me. It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen before, making my belly feel funny. I pick my nail as the others get off the bus.
“Are you okay?” The words, soft and sweet, draw my attention. I turn to find the driver leaning over me. “You alright, baby?” I nod, my eyes cut back to huge red box out the window. “Want me to walk you in?” she asks.
I bounce my head up and down, turning to look at her with wide eyes. Her face lights up as she smiles at me. She takes my hand, warming it with hers. Pieces of white hair mixed with brown fall around her face.
Miss Amy leads me through the big double doors of the school. There’s an open door on the right, filled with several desks and people rushing around. “Hello, Miss Amy.” A lady with red hair laying in curls, waves. “Who do you have with you?”
“This is Sarah Sutton. She rode in with me from The Horseshoe Mobile Home
Park,” she replies.
“Thank you for walking her in, I’ll take her from here,” the lady says as she walks around the end of her desk.
My driver squeezes my hand. “Ashley will take you to your room, and I’ll see you this evening.” There’s a pang in the pit of my stomach.
“Alright, Sarah.” Ashley reaches for my hand. “Let’s get you to your class.” We enter the hallway as kids hurry to rooms on either side. “Your old school sent your information when your mom left a forwarding address. That’s how we knew you would be joining us here at Millbrook.”
We come to a stop in front of an opening to a room, the door has a small pane of glass in it. She knocks on the door numbered One Two One. “Miss Ashley”—a lady with long black hair smiles at us—“who do you have with you?”
“This is Sarah, she’s your new student.”
“Hello, Sarah. Welcome to our kindergarten class. I’m Miss Stafford, it’s nice to meet you.” She waves. “Come on in and we’ll find you a seat.”
I release Miss Ashley’s hand, plodding over to the teacher’s desk. “May I have your attention please?” She clears her throat for the room to grow quiet. “This is Sarah, and she’ll be joining us. Everyone, please make her feel welcome.”
I look around the room, decorated in reds and yellows with Clifford the Big Red Dog all over the walls. I hear snickers from the back of the room and notice two girls whispering.
Most of the room greets me with smiles. As I scan my eyes toward the back, I notice a waving hand attached to a boy with brown hair, smiling. I think I can see all of his teeth his mouth is so wide as he bounces in his seat.
“Sarah, why don’t you take the seat next to Chord.” I glance at her for more instructions, unsure of who Chord is. “He’s the one jumping up and down, when he needs to take his seat, Mister Hamilton.” She points down to signal him to sit.
I drop my head as I zigzag my way through the students. I come to a stop in front of the grinning boy. “Hi, Sarwah. I’m Chorwd.” He straightens a desk next to him. “You can sit herwe.” His eyes are a blue I’ve never seen.
I step around him, dropping into the seat. He sits on the edge of his chair, trotting his leg. “You shouldn’t stare, it’s unbecoming.”
