Hope

by Sydney Lane

  Sometimes, escape isn't so much about what you're running from as it is who you're running to.

  Chapter 63

  Declan

  "In case you don't already know, I love you," Liza whispers in my ear, her words searing themselves into my soul. She could say it a million times, and I'd never get tired of hearing it.

  "I love you more." My heart swells with emotion. I now know what it feels like to love with everything you have, completely and unconditionally... and to have that love returned.

  Two weeks ago, Liza told me about her rape.

  I thought I'd been angry. I thought I understood hate.

  I was wrong.

  The only thing that keeps me from driving to Somerset and killing that sonofabitch is that he's no longer there. Liza says he resigned after that season, and he moved shortly thereafter. She begged, pleaded, with fear in her eyes, for me to let it go.

  I promised I would, but if I ever have a chance, I won't hesitate to take him down.

  That night changed Liza. Gone is the angry and bitter girl I met. Gone is the haunting look in her eyes. She touches me lovingly and allows me to touch her. Her eyes are bright and clear. She's free.

  Next year, when the pitcher graduates, Liza will be back where she belongs- on the pitcher's mound. Everything is falling into place.

  Tonight, we're celebrating Brody's birthday with a bonfire. It only seems right that we should end up back here, at the farm where things began and ended, coming full circle.

  We're in the cabin, gathered around the bar as Quincy presents Brody with a heart-shaped cake. It says "Love from LMP." Not quite sure what that means, but his face beams when he reads it.

  I get it. Them. They just make sense together.

  And I get why Brody did what he did. If someone else had been in my way, I would have bulldozed them to get to Liza, too.

  I look around the room at this crazy group of people, my eyes falling on them one at a time. Some are my friends, others are my brothers, but they are all my family. Like most families, we can be dysfunctional, but when it counts, we hold it together.

  The music fades, and the room seems to get a little bit smaller.

  Quincy laughs at something Brody says, and he leans down to whisper in her ear, making her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink.

  Jenna listens intently as Eric strums the guitar that rests across his lap. He watches her lovingly, openly, his eyes telling the story of the song he plays.

  Seth is talking loudly and laughing with several girls who seem to be mesmerized by every word that leaves his mouth. I'm sure he'll leave with one- or maybe two- of them later.

  And Liza... well, Liza smiles. Her happiness is so real, so contagious, I can almost taste it. I feel like a jerk because I want to snatch a little bit of her laughter and bottle it away for a rainy day.

  Where does all of this leave me?

  Right where I'm supposed to be.

  Epilogue- Liza

  We were almost late to the rehearsal dinner. Declan couldn't keep his hands to himself. And after a few practiced touches, I didn't want him to. He's insatiable.

  Quincy and Brody's wedding is tomorrow. Jenna is the maid of honor while Corrine and I are bridesmaids. Eric is the best man, with Seth and Declan as groomsmen.

  Although Seth and Corrine never worked things out, they're still good friends. Seth is growing, changing, and I suspect his wedding will be the next one we attend. Yes, ladies, Seth Henley is officially off the market, much to the dismay of most women aged sixteen to sixty-five, teenagers to horny housewives. Pretty much any woman with a vagina from here to Nashville.

  "She's coming!" Jenna hisses as she races into the room with a huge smile on her face.

  At six months pregnant, Quincy is exquisite. Her baby bump has just made an appearance, and her face literally glows with love and hormones. Could she be any more beautiful?

  We stand in front of our gift, hiding it as Quincy breezes into the room and collapses on a bench near the door. "I'm huge. What was I thinking getting married like this?" She suddenly becomes aware of us suspiciously standing side by side. "What are you two up to? Jenna-"

  "Why does it always have to be me? Why can't it be Liza?" Jenna playfully pouts.

  "Because it's always you. When the shit hits the fan, you are involved somehow." I'm in awe of their friendship even after all these years. Quincy turns to me, assessing my dress. "And you, Liza, clean up well. I'm surprised you aren't wearing a whistle around your neck," she chides, referring to my work attire. "So give it up. What did she do?" She tilts her chin in Jenna's direction, quizzing me.

  "Oh, would you stop that?" Jenna huffs. "We got you a gift, but we're afraid you'll cry and mess up your makeup if you see it before the dinner. So scram. Stay out of this room."

  We convince a reluctant Quincy to leave the room, and I turn to look at her gift.

  It's a large canvas photo of the group. Last year, at the fraternity reunion, a photographer was there, and she snapped a candid picture of us. In it, Brody is gazing lovingly at Quincy while she talks to Jenna. Eric has his guitar thrown over his shoulder as he leans against a tree. Declan stands next to Brody, a hand on his shoulder, and I can't help but wonder what they were talking about. And then there's me- laughing hysterically from my perch on Seth's broad shoulders. A beautiful moment forever captured in time.

  When I got Declan, I got them. They're my family now too.

  Declan and I are so busy building our lives that I often forget the past. We're both coaches at Somerset High, and although, it's confusing to the kids to have two Coach Whites, I wouldn't change a thing.

  Remaining true to my dreams, I volunteer at the local battered women's shelter, and Declan is working with Brody and Quincy to form a support group for victims of rape at the hospital. If there's anything I hope to accomplish, it's that I don't want another soul to suffer in silence.

  Life is a battlefield, a constant struggle between darkness and light. When you get lost in the dark, there's no shame in asking for help. After Quincy convinced me to get help, I began seeing a counselor. I still see her today.

  I take one more lasting look at the photo and look down at the message on my phone.

  It's over. I couldn't live with myself if he hurt another girl, and I finally have the closure I need.

  Coach Senton: It's done. He will never coach again.

  There's a lot of pain in living. There are just some things you can't avoid, like death. People are going to let you down. Not everyone will like you. Hell, you might not even like yourself. But there are some things, the little things, that give you hope. Find your little thing, even if it's just a spark in the dark, and live it. Something is better than nothing, and one day, you might open your eyes and realize that your something means everything.

  There's a spark of hope in this world because while I was busy trying not to love him, he was loving me. I'm someone's everything.

  And he is mine.

  The End

  Thank you for reading Hope! Please drop by and leave a review where you purchased it! Nothing helps indie authors more than reviews and word-of-mouth.

  I hope you all are pleased with the conclusion to Declan, Brody and Quincy's story. I know you were angry/sad/confused at times, but things couldn't have worked out better for these wonderful characters.

  Seth will be telling his story in Endure (Choices 4)... please join me on his journey... you know he has a story!

  Victims of Abuse and Rape

  If you or anyone you know is the victim or rape or violence, please don’t suffer in silence. Seek help with a professional counselor in your area or contact the National Sexual Assault Hotline

  1-800-656-HOPE. You do not have to be alone.

  Acknowledgements

  There are just too many people to name, and my list gets longer with each book.

  Many thanks to my faithful readers! Anne, Heather, Natalie, Sharon, Megan, Doreen, Kelly, Tammy, Tracy, Demetria, Katheri
ne, Amy, Michael, JoAnne… and so many more! Your kind words and encouragement keep me going, especially when I begin to doubt myself.

  Thanks to my wonderful friends who put up with me and the crazy voices inside my head. Thank you for helping these characters come to life.

  To my husband, who can’t read my books, thank you for allowing me to do it anyway. Thank you for your support and love.

  Kathy Krick, Erinn Giblin, Enticing Journey Promotions, MSA Photography, Sara Eirew, and the countless bloggers who promote my books… thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Hope Playlist

  One Republic - I Lived

  Three Days Grace - Pain

  The Spill Canvas - Lullaby

  Nickelback – Gotta Be Somebody

  Demi Lovato – Never Been Hurt

  Kings of Leon – Use Somebody

  Demi Lovato - I Hate You, Don't Leave Me

  Kings of Leon - Cold Desert

  Radiohead - Creep

  Christina Perri – Human

  About the Author

  Sydney Lane lives in Nashville, TN with her husband and children. Growing up in Smalltown, USA, Sydney dreamed of being a writer. After spending an outrageous amount of money to go to college and reading thousands of books, Sydney finally decided to follow her heart. With her babies in bed and husband neglected, she worked by the light of her laptop and began writing.

  Sydney is very active in charity work for anti-bullying and depression awareness groups.

  Please feel free to contact me and offer feedback or ask questions. I love to read reviews on Goodreads and Amazon!

  My personal email address is: authorsydneylane@gmail.com

  I also have a community page on facebook for Author Sydney Lane. Please check there for information on new releases, teasers, and more!

  Keep reading for excerpts from Undone by Amy Marie and The Albino Redwood Series Book 2! If you haven’t been introduced to these indie authors, check them out!

  Undone (Unexpected Series)

  by

  Amy Marie

  Chapter One

  Noelle

  I really hate this song. I mean really and truly hate this damn song. Why do they play this kind of crap in a coffee house? Ugh! Come on, Starbucks lady. I’m all about you wiping that counter clean but I want to order my damn coffee!

  Like a Virgin. Hey! Touched for the very first time, Like a VIIIIIIR…okay, that’s enough. COFFEE LADY!

  I really need my caffeine fix after that brutal cycling class. My ass feels numb.

  “Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get for you?” Shyanne, according to her name tag, asks looking bored out of her mind.

  “Can I please have a grande white mocha?” I say trying to hide the annoyance in my voice, so she doesn’t spit in my drink.

  “Name?” She barely looks at me as she places the tip of the marker on their trademark white cup.

  “Noelle.”

  After giving me my total, I pay for my coffee and shake my head irritated with the fact that she probably sharpie scribbled my name wrong. I fix my loose blonde ponytail looking around and tension immediately leaves my body when I’m graced with a vision greater than Ryan Reynolds’ naked scene in The Proposal. A hot piece of man candy is at my three o’clock, and I’m looking for a sugar rush…or a diabetic coma.

  Yummy.

  Wow! It just isn’t fair to look that amazing. I bet he rolled his toned ass out of bed, ruffled his short blonde hair, skipped the razor, and threw on the first thing he spotted. His dark wash jeans, gray t-shirt clinging to a chiseled and bulging chest, and wrap me up tight biceps. Not a wrinkle in the fabric. He looks like the kind of guy any woman would like to ride into the sunset…literally. I mean I’m restraining myself from doing it right now.

  The Starbucks God catches me gawking. I can’t help it. You shouldn’t expect to walk around like that and not be undressed with my eyes. He flashes me his perfect white teeth and his smile scrunches up his face giving me a glimpse at his irises. He has some seriously sexy, smoldering green eyes.

  Look away! Look away! He will trap you in his vortex of emeralds!

  I pull out my phone trying to look anywhere but at him and shoot off a text to my best friend, Erin.

  Me: Holy crap! Major hottie at Starbucks!

  Erin: Did you take a pic?

  Me: Uhm, no way! For my eyes only.

  Erin: SHARE NOE!...never mind, you’re too chicken anyways.

  Bitch! She knows I hate to be called chicken.

  I can do this. It can’t be that hard.

  I move my fingers across the screen giving off the vibe that I’m just texting with my BFF. I hit the button to turn the phone to vibrate so the sound of the shutter doesn’t give me away. Getting the perfect shot, I slightly point my cell his way and FLASH!

  OH SHIT! Rule one of hottie picture taking: TURN OFF THE FLASH!

  “Did you just take my picture?” Hottie McCoffee says directing his whole body towards me. He leans one of his elbows on the counter and clasps both calloused hands together.

  I’d love to find out what those rough hands can do to my body.

  “Uh, no. I don’t think so.” I try to compose myself, my face crimson like the color of the top I have on today.

  Would it look weird to fan myself right now?

  “Hmm.” He raises an eyebrow at me pointing at the offending cellphone in my hand. “Because I could have sworn I just saw a flash coming from your phone.”

  “Well, it does that when I get a text.” I lie, or try to.

  Really, Noelle? There is no way he is buying that crap.

  “Oh, well, I just thought that you wanted something to remember me by since you were just eye humping me,” he says with a wink reaching into his pocket.

  “First of all, I was not eye humping you and second of all…”

  FLASH! Did he just take my picture?

  “Did you just take my picture?” Anger blazes through me. I didn’t even get to smile for it!

  “Nope! I got a text,” he says laughing and then directs a smile at me that could seriously incinerate my panties, since I decided to wear them today.

  We stare at each other, neither of us speaking, and I can feel every cell in my body being turned on.

  “JACE!” Shyanne, if that is her real name, yells interrupting our foreplay.

  “That’s me. Gotta go,” Jace says as he casually strolls over and blasts Ms. Wait-Ten-Minutes-to-Take-Your-Order with MY panty melting smile and walks towards the door.

  Oh hell no!

  “Wait! Delete that picture!” I mean how rude is he not asking for permission. At least let me see if my hair looks okay. I did just workout.

  He turns his back to push the door open and the light hits just right. He looks like an angel which contradicts me seeing as I’m going to Hell for the thoughts running through my dirty mind. “No thanks,” he says and walks out.

  That just fucking happened? Okay, well at least I got a good picture of him to send to Erin. I plop down into the chair next to the window and send it to her.

  Me: Here he is...enjoy because this was the most embarrassing experience of my life!

  Erin: Damn!! Almost as hot as Walker. What happened? Forget to turn the flash

  off?

  Me: SHUT IT!.. but yes :( But he took one of me too when I wasn’t looking.

  Erin: Maybe for his spank bank?

  Me: LOL. Probably! You know men spank it thinking of this body on a daily basis.

  I put my phone in my back pocket just waiting to post it on Facebook with the status update “Meet the man of my wet dreams!” I’m sure all my aunts, uncles, cousins and oh yeah, parents would love that. I mean who accepts their parents’ friend requests? Dumbasses like me, that’s who.

  “Janelle?”

  “Noelle and I’m right here.” I pull a napkin from the dispenser and wipe down the counter. “Listen, Shyanne, is it? How can you not be drooling over all the hot guys that come in here?”

&
nbsp; “Jace is pretty gorgeous isn’t he? He is in here all the time. Same time every day, even on weekends.” Well, I guess she can be useful.

  “Gorgeous doesn’t even come close. I may have to come back tomorrow.” I smile to myself. “Maybe he’ll come in here shirtless and I can really get a good pic.”

  She giggles but cuts it short when she looks past me. Knowing the luck I’m having today he must be behind me.

  “Why wait when I can just take my shirt off for you now? You just have to ask nicely,” man candy whispers in my ear sending sexy chills down my body, and then I feel his hand on my ass. What the hell? “Here’s my number. You can use the picture you took as my contact photo,” he says slipping what I assume is his number into my back pocket.

  “That was a text! You are so full of yourself. I don’t want your number and stop touching my ass,” I state as firmly as I can, but it comes out weak. His hands leave my body, and I’m left breathless.

  Shyanne starts giggling once again and I turn to see he’s gone. I catch a glimpse of him outside getting into a sexy black sports car, a pretty blonde in the passenger seat scowling at him. She must be his girlfriend.

  What an ass! Why would he give me his number if he has a girlfriend? Well, player your number is going in the trash, but that picture…that picture will stay safe on my phone.

  Okay, so that wasn’t my most embarrassing moment in my twenty eight years of existence. There was this time when I was bowling with my ex-boyfriend and walked up behind him after arriving late. I slid my hands around his body and started to grope him only to find out it was another guy. His wife looked like she wanted to murder me, but I was happy. The man had an eight pack and I reached down far enough that I almost found the end of the V. That should have been my first clue. My boyfriend had a keg. I mean full on beer belly. You would think that being on the college football team he would’ve been in better shape. Apparently, beer trumped working out. But I digress.

  Deciding to get my red face and coffee out of there I step out into the Death Valley that’s Chicago in July. A year ago I was getting ready to head to Cozumel with Erin. I need another vacation.