Reckless Abandon (Damaged #2)

by J. C. Hannigan

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More Great Reads from Booktrope

  Reckless Abandon

  J.C.HANNIGAN

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle, WA 2016

  COPYRIGHT 2016 J.C.HANNIGAN

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: info@booktrope.com

  Cover Design by Yosbe Design

  Edited by Lisa Davall

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN: 978-1-5137-0648-1

  EPUB ISBN: 978-1-5137-0749-5

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015921048

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people I would like to thank. Without their help, I wouldn’t have been able to complete The Damaged Series. Thank you to Sarah Fader, Lauren Jones, Christina Harris, and Kristen Johnson for letting me talk about the heart of this story. Repeatedly. Thank you for your suggestions and encouragement. Those early on days of novel writing are crucial, and the input I got from each of you definitely helped craft what this book is today.

  I would like to thank my beta readers for providing the feedback I needed so that I could polish and buff things up.

  Another huge shout out goes out to my Booktrope team for making this book a reality – Chelsea Barnes, Nikki Colligan, Yosbe and Lisa Davall, as well as all those working hard in the background.

  And to my husband Matt – you saw exactly what I needed you to see from this project. You knew Grayson better than I knew him, and you helped me find his redemption. You also helped man the home front while I spent hours in my writing cave bringing this to life.

  Finally, thank you to ALL of my FANnigans! You each have a huge part in me completing this novel as well – if it weren’t for you guys, I probably wouldn’t have dared to release a second book, let alone a whole new series. Your encouragement and support is just the push I need to keep going! Special thanks go out to Cassandra Smith, Amanda Hall, Samantha Soccorso, Karie Deegan, and Donna Ash for relentlessly shouting my name from the rooftop.

  This one is for he who inspired the essence of The Damaged Series.

  I truly believe this story has magic because of you…

  Prologue

  Grayson

  I'VE MADE A LOT of mistakes in my life, and I've hurt a lot of people I cared about. I was angry and weak and walked around with a chip on my shoulder. I missed what could have been the best time of my life, and worse—I pushed away the only girl I've ever loved... all because I hated myself.

  Five years later, and I still hated myself—probably more. Only I didn't hate myself for no good reason. I hated myself because I sabotaged everything good and pure about my life.

  Letting Everly Daniels walk out of my life had always been my biggest regret. For a guy that always acts first and thinks later, I really dropped the ball on that one.

  It was a blessing and a curse, seeing her everywhere I went. I was happy for her success, but it was the sweetest kind of torture to know that I lost her and that I could never have her again. I had only myself to blame.

  After I broke her heart, I dropped out of high school. I couldn't stand the idea of seeing the pain in her eyes—the pain that I put there—when she looked at me. I crushed her. At the time, I wanted to make her hate me as much as I hated myself because I didn't feel worthy of her. I wasn't worthy of her.

  I got my GED and left for an oilfield work camp in an isolated Alberta town in a pitiful attempt to put her—and everything else—behind me. I worked my ass off, saving pretty much every penny. I didn't have anybody but myself to spend it on.

  Within four years, I was restless and ready to blow all my money on something stupid. I felt myself sinking into a deep depression, seeking the comfort of whiskey and faceless women all too often.

  When I started to hate myself more than I already did, I knew it was time to leave Alberta.

  I had no sense of direction, though. The only thing I could do was return home to Orono, to my dad's place.

  When he opened up his door and saw me standing on his porch in the middle of the night, I expected him to freak out about how I'd taken off without a word all those years before, or about how I hadn't come back to visit once since I had left. He didn't say anything. He just hugged me gruffly, handed over the keys to the apartment over the garage, and told me I had a job at his construction company if I wanted it. Then he forced me inside to say hello to Vanessa.

  I started my life over again for the hundredth time, trying to shed the tattered skins of my former dark self. This was all in an attempt to finally become a man that could be worthy of a woman like Everly.

  Chapter One

  Everly

  BETWEEN THE OVER-SIZED sunglasses obscuring the majority of my face and the smoky gray beanie that I'd tucked all my hair under, I was unrecognizable...or at least I felt unrecognizable. That was the point, of course. I didn't want to be noticed by anybody in Pearson International Airport. I wanted to get my luggage and get out. I wanted to be home.

  My throat constricted with the thought of home. I hadn't been there in almost three years. I'd been so busy with the band and touring and performing, with interviews and red carpet events. Selfish reasons.

  I should have gone home more, I thought, the tears brimming under my glasses. Now it's too late. I tried to push the thought away, but it was pointless. It was too late. I hadn't gone home enough, and now that I was returning, it was to bury somebody that I loved.

  I kept my head down and my lips tightly closed as I walked. I was traveling for the first time in a long time without any security, without anybody at my side. Our manager with the label hadn’t had time to clear anybody to go with me because they didn’t even know I’d left.

  I'd gotten the phone call the night before and had gone straight to the airport to board the next available plane, ditching my bandmates at a promotional event for our new album without any thought. It had been the longest flight I'd ever been on, and that was saying something. I'd been on every single kind of flight imaginable.

  The lump in my throat got significantly larger when I glanced up and saw my parents waiting, clinging to each other as if they couldn't stand on their
own feet without the support of each other's arms. I let out a strangled gasp, the air suddenly slicing into my lungs.

  Dad caught sight of me first and smiled through his pain. The sadness lined his eyes and made him look as if he'd aged ten years in barely a month. I'd flown the entire family out to spend Thanksgiving with me in Los Angeles a few weeks before, and he hadn't looked like this. Seeing them like shattered made it all too real.

  I didn't want it to be real.

  The tears escaped from my eyes, pouring down my cheeks without restraint as I flew into my parents' arms. They hugged me tightly, both of them unable to contain their own tears and sorrow. The three of us stood there, shaking uncontrollably as we sobbed into each other’s arms.

  "Where is she?" I demanded, my voice shaking with emotion as I pulled away. I felt frantic, panicked. My heart was beating incredibly fast; the pain was unlike anything I had ever felt before and I thought I knew heartache. "I need to see her."

  Mom nodded, her face crumbling. "We'll head straight over," she promised, stroking my face as if she wanted to comfort me...or herself.

  I nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath as they put their arms around me. The three of us stumbled out of the airport and piled into the car. Snow flurries danced in the pale gray sky, hinting at the holidays that were fast approaching.

  I was silent on the drive to the hospital, completely lost in my own numb thoughts. I couldn't take anything in. I tried to focus on my breathing, counting each deep breath as it passed my lips.

  Dad dropped us off in front of the hospital. My eyes blurred with tears that I fought desperately to control while Mom led the way to the seventh floor.

  "Wait here," Mom said gently, rubbing my shoulders quickly before disappearing to check in at the nurses’ station. I took a deep breath, trying to get my emotions under control. I couldn't go in there bawling my eyes out. I would only upset her.

  Mom approached again, giving me a pained smile. She put her hands back on my shoulders, guiding me down the hallway.

  We stood outside of the door, me shaking and trying to rein it in while Mom squeezed my shoulders again. I took a deep breath, wiping my cheeks dry.

  Pushing open the door, we walked into the private hospital room. She looked so tiny lying in the bed. I let out a choked sob and willed myself to keep it together. I could fall apart later. I slowly approached the bed, Mom following directly behind me.

  She was awake, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she blinked at me with recognition.

  "Hi Cadence," I said, falling into the chair closest to the bed. She turned her head to follow my movements. She had several lacerations on her face as well as a fractured wrist from the accident, but she was okay. She was alive.

  I couldn't hold back the tears that escaped when I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to Cadence's undamaged cheek. I was never very good at holding in my emotions.

  Cadence didn't say anything. She was groggy from the pain killers and the beating her tiny body had taken from the accident. Her eyelids softly fluttered closed. I remained in the chair, watching her face in peaceful slumber.

  "How long until she can come home?" I asked, my voice sounding alien even to my own ears.

  "She's scheduled to be discharged tomorrow afternoon; they want to keep her for one more night."

  I nodded, accepting this answer as I studied the thick lashes resting against Cadence's cheek. I raised my hand to my mouth, hoping to hold back the ugly emotion that was going to spill out of me.

  I sobbed into my hand, my shoulders shaking. Mom approached me quickly, wrapping her arms around my body. I hadn't had time to grieve. I hadn't had time to process anything. I hadn't even slept yet.

  Mom helped me out of the chair, gently guiding me away from Cadence's sleeping body. She stopped once we'd reached the hallway. "Oh, honey," she said, her voice breaking as she rubbed my back.

  "I can't believe she's gone," I sobbed, my entire body shaking. I'd just talked to Julia two days before. I didn't realize that it was the last time I would ever get to speak to my sister again. If I'd known that, I would have told her how much I loved her and how appreciative I was of her. Now I would never get that opportunity.

  ***

  "I can't do this," I sobbed, my entire body shaking and trembling with fear. Julia stepped up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She held me tightly, quieting the tremors. I gasped, struggling to breathe against my panic.

  "Yes you can," Julia assured me. "I'll help you."

  The gentle pressure of a hand on my shoulder jarred me awake from the dream. I looked about, disoriented. The pale green walls of the hospital room reminded me where I was.

  Mom glanced down at me, her eyes full of exhaustion. The accident had happened less than forty-eight hours ago, and I honestly didn't think she or Dad had slept at all either. I knew they hadn't left Cadence's side; that much was obvious from their rumpled clothing and the heavy bags under their eyes.

  My chin quivered as I looked at her. The dream of Julia that I'd woken up from was actually not a dream at all; it was a memory, and it made the pain of losing her even more acute. I wanted to see my sister. I wanted to tell her that I appreciated her for all that she did for me... for all of the sacrifices she made so that I could chase my dreams.

  "She knew," Dad said, his voice breaking as he took in the crumbled expression on my face. He rushed to my side, gently rubbing my back.

  "I'm so selfish," I sobbed, my shoulders shaking as I looked at Cadence's sleeping form. I brushed her hair out of her face. I wanted to gather her in my arms, hold her close to my chest and cradle her. She looked so much like Julia had at that age. "If I'd never..."

  "You did a lot for Julia, and for Cadence. She knows it. She never begrudged you anything. She was proud of you, proud of all your accomplishments," Mom told me. "We all are."

  "My accomplishments took away from hers," I pointed out, tears pouring down my cheeks. I shook my head, beyond angry at myself.

  "You can't think that way," Dad said, kneeling down in front of me. His eyes searched mine sadly. "Cadence was everything to her... and so were you."

  I brushed away the tears, feebly attempting to stop their flow. It seemed endless, and I wondered if I would ever stop crying.

  ***

  "The doctor will be here soon," Mom told me, her face pained.

  "What?" I sat up straighter, brushing at my cheeks again with the back of my hand. "How long was I sleeping?"

  "A few hours," Mom answered. There was movement by the door, and a man in a long white coat picked up Cadence's chart from her door before he walked in.

  “Everything looks good. Her vitals have remained stable. She’ll probably be drowsy for the next couple of days. The nurse is typing up her discharge paperwork now and I’ve already included a prescription for her to have when needed. This will help her with the pain. After the first week, Tylenol should be sufficient but please let me know if anything changes. I’ll need to see her back here in about two to three weeks for a routine follow up and then again in six weeks to obtain an x-ray before removing the cast,” the doctor said while reviewing the chart. He barely looked up while speaking; however, when he finally did, his face looked grave. “Please accept my condolences for your loss.” His soft brown eyes were full of compassion as they met mine.

  "Thank you." Mom's voice was weak, but she didn't cry. She didn't seem to have any moisture left. She was staring at Cadence with a broken expression.

  "I've also written a referral for a child psychologist, to help Cadence process the accident and her loss," he added, handing me a copy of the referral and the prescription.

  An hour later, I was pushing Cadence in a tiny child sized wheelchair, followed closely by Mom. Dad had left to bring the car around. Mom carried the balloon bouquet that Kyle, Marcus and Cam had sent for Cadence. I had left in a hurry, but made arrangements to fill Kyle in so that he could handle things with the band and the record label. I had pleaded w
ith him to keep it from the tabloids; the last thing I wanted was the media to intrude on our time of grieving.

  Dad was waiting in the drop off zone of the hospital and he darted out from the driver’s seat to open the rear passenger door. I carefully lifted Cadence up from the wheelchair, her body limp in my arms as I lifted her inside the car. They'd given her a light sedative to make the hour long trip home.

  I placed her in her booster seat, buckling her in securely. My eyes filled again at the sight of the new booster seat. I closed the door, walking around with stiff legs to climb in on the other side. I sat in the middle of the car, as close to Cadence as I could get.

  Cadence slept the entire drive home. I held her tiny hand in mine, staring out the window as my thoughts raced and I struggled to keep my breathing steady.

  I couldn't help but think about all the summers that I'd have Cadence and Julia at my place in LA with me—when I wasn't busy touring or recording, that is. Cadence always enjoyed coming to LA and swimming in the big in-ground pool. Two days ago, Julia had called to finalize their plans to come out for a Christmas visit. Mom and Dad were going to come along too.

  Now I was home, and Julia was gone.

  The drive home took less than an hour. We'd made it before the rush hour traffic clogged up the highway.

  My parents still lived in the house that I grew up in, in Newcastle. Things were almost completely unchanged, except for the new sofa set they'd gotten and the flat screen TV. My beloved dog, Stella, had passed away a few years back when I was on tour. My parents hadn't gotten another dog, and it was surreal to come home and not have her waiting for me at the door, her tail thumping against the banister in welcome.

  But it was nothing compared to the massive puncture in my heart from losing Julia.

  My heart seized in my chest at the reminder. I would never see Julia lounging on the couch with her feet up again. I'd no longer fight her for the last baked cookie, or cry on her shoulder when everything got to be too much.