by Layne, Lyssa
“She’ll be fine,” I said, searching the area for Travis. It was high time we got out of the building.
“You don’t understand, Derek. That little boy is her entire world. She’ll never get past losing him. Never forgive herself for having to hand him over to - to that man.”
I smiled slightly. “You don’t understand, Diane. I never leave things to chance.” I started toward the exit. “Joss and Wyatt are both going to be fine.”
Diane never said another word. She understood perfectly now.
I barely managed to get Joss into the cab of my truck before she started to come to.
“What happened?” she was blinking her eyes wildly. I didn’t have a chance to answer before she burst into tears, remembering all on her own. “Oh my GOD! Wyatt! What are we going to do? There has to be something we can do. Derek, I swear to you, I’ll murder him before he can hurt my son. There’s no way I’m taking a chance just because that idiot judge is willing to risk it. Not with my baby, motherfucker!” She was rambling, spewing curse words and threats around at random and I let her continue until we’d been driving for almost thirty minutes and I was sure we’d shaken Travis. The asshole had tailed us even after he’d won. Probably would have followed us the whole way home, had we been going that way.
“What…what are you doing? Where are we going?” her swollen, red eyes were streaked with mascara as she stared at me dumbstruck from across the cab.
“You really think there’s a chance in hell I’m letting that man take our son?”
She nodded, satisfied and looking entirely insane. “Good. So, we’re going to kill him together. That works. And, since we’re married they won’t be able to make us testify against each other.”
“Slow down, crazy. I’m going to go ahead and leave the killing option as our last resort. And for the record, if it ever comes to that, you will be nowhere near any of it. Got that?”
She was biting her lip, defiantly refusing to nod.
“Baby, I’m serious. Any and all illegal activities will be left to me. Period. Move those green eyeballs up and down if you understand.”
They still looked semi-pissed but at least they went through the motions. “Look, I know if you tell me it’s going to be alright, it’s going to be alright. But, please, you have to give me somethi –“
The sound of an approaching helicopter drowned out the rest of her sentence. Following the chopper, I pulled off onto a dirt road leading off into thousands of acres of heavily-wooded BLM land. A few minutes later we came up on a clearing big enough for the chopper to land safely.
I put the truck into park and took Joss’s hand. “Remember when I asked you what you would do to protect Wyatt?”
She nodded. “Whatever it takes.”
I did the same. “Whatever it takes.”
Still holding hands, she slid across the bench seat of my truck and followed me out. I reached behind the seat and retrieved a large black duffle bag and together we marched toward the waiting helicopter.
“Mommy! I got to flyded on a helicopter!” It was the best greeting either of us could ever have asked for. Aunt Deb was sitting in the seat beside him, eyes red from crying, probably in anticipation of what was about to happen.
Joss was hardly on board when she swept Wyatt up into her arms so tightly he started to giggle.
Placing my bag down at Hattie’s feet, I turned toward Carson, “I certainly hope you’re serving snacks this time.”
EPILOGUE
Aunt Deb,
Sorry it’s been so long between letters this time. Things have been crazy here. Good crazy, but crazy nonetheless. Cara started walking last week. It’s amazing the things she’ll do for a fresh croissant. I swear she must have smelled me eating it from all the way out in the living room because next thing I knew she was standing in the kitchen doorway pointing at it in my hand. I love my girl, but damn, I hadn’t been planning on sharing that croissant, lol.
The grapes I planted last fall are coming along nicely. I think they may be my favorite thing to grow so far. I find the way the vines curl up and cling onto things in search of light sort of inspiring, in a way. I wish you were here to see them, but Wyatt’s been keeping a gardening journal just for you and I’ll be sending the first portion of it along with this letter. I’ve been trying to stay on top of his English, but the writing seems to come easier to him in his new native tongue, so have the translator app handy when you sit down to read through it. Of course, the fabulous pictures he’s been drawing for you in there are pretty self-explanatory.
The store is doing well. People can’t seem to get enough of our work. It’s like the second I finish a piece and put it up for display, Derek comes along and hangs a sold tag on it. Not that I’m complaining. Not at all. I’m like, living my dreams. Only they’re even better than I dreamed them.
We caught the news last night. Bet you were wondering if I’d bring that up. Well, I wouldn’t be if Derek hadn’t decided to check in on local events at random on the internet. Can’t believe that after all this time, Travis finally slipped up. I hate that it was at the expense of another person being hurt, but I’m beyond relieved to know he won’t be terrorizing anyone else, anytime soon. May he rot in jail for all eternity. Or at least until Wyatt is eighteen. And before you freak out, not to worry, we caught Diane’s statement as well. Cute, really, the way she worked it in, pointing out that this did not in any way take away from the fact that we were still criminal fugitives who would be arrested on sight should we ever set foot on American soil again.
Rest assured, we won’t. Even if Derek has promised to take the fall for it all, claiming he kidnapped every last one of us. I’m happy Deb. So happy I can barely stand it. Feel free to make a trip out here to see for yourself. Say, maybe….nine months from now?
Love and miss you,
Doodle
P.S. Tell Bobby it wouldn’t kill him to write back every once in a while. No response is not the same as, ‘Cool. I’m good, too.’
I folded the letter and slid it into the envelope. I’d give it to our neighbor Philippe first thing in the morning before he left town for business again. His work required him to travel all over, meaning every letter Aunt Deb had received from me in the last year and a half had been sent to her from some new corner of the world each time. Philippe was one of only three people in our new home who knew the truth about us, and it was only because Derek had known him for over a decade prior due to the time he’d spent here early on in his Naval career.
I stepped outside into our courtyard, the warmth of the sun dancing on my skin. I couldn’t have imagined a life better suited for us if I had tried. After several weeks of traveling below the radar, moving constantly from one place to the next with help from people like Carson and Darius, we’d finally settled in France where we’d met up with Philippe. Far away from the hustle and bustle of the cities and cut off from the tourists and business travelers, he’d found the perfect house for us sitting out in the country and right next door to his. The place was ancient and falling apart at the seams and Derek and I fell in love with it instantly.
Between the two of us, someone had kept working on it at all times of the day and night, until finally, it was perfect, still filled with charm and character, but no longer seeping rain through the ceiling during the storms. Aside from a fabulous garden and courtyard that made me want to spend more time outdoors than in, the front of the house had once been used as a bakery. After some really minor adjustments, Derek and I had converted the space into a small shop where we sold everything from furniture and home décor to doors and window frames. Needless to say, every last item to wind up there had been refurbished or repurposed by us in some way.
With Hattie following close behind, I walked the stone steps down into the garden. Derek was standing near the fruit trees, Cara bouncing on his hip, desperate to get down and get her little fingers into God knew what. Meanwhile, Wyatt was perched up on his ladder, dropping apples into the basket be
low.
I rested my hand on my stomach, watching them: my family, my life, my love. Derek had been true to his word in every way. He had kept us safe. Together. I knew without a shadow of a doubt, he would always keep us that way. Unharmed. Unhurt.
THE END.
Just when you thought the story was over…
By K.S. Thomas
Chapter One
Karma
I’m late. This is not new to me, the girl my friends and family refer to as being on ‘fuck it’ time regardless of what’s on the agenda. Schedule? What’s that? I work for myself mostly so I don’t have to have one of those. Except on days like today. Because I made a commitment to be here. Last year. I don’t know what I was thinking making plans so far in advance. As it stands, I don’t want to commit to the dinner invite I have for tomorrow night. And it’s from my brother. Because it’s his birthday.
I’ll let him know sometime before five o’clock. Tomorrow.
Right now I don’t have time to think about that. I don’t have time for anything. Not even coffee. Which is criminal if you ask me. But no one is asking. Except maybe where the hell I am. My phone just went off for the fourth time. I’m not checking it though. I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m late. I can tell time. Even if I can’t keep it.
Crossing the never-ending parking lot up to the convention center while my arms are overflowing with crap I’ll need once I get inside, I’m barely hanging on to my laptop bag which is desperately hooked to the pinky on my left hand, along with my key chain.
I scan the ten side by side double glass doors for the set of automatic ones. They’re not there. They don’t exist. And I’m never getting inside.
“Excuse me,” I shout when I see a guy exit through a door four sets down from me.
“Me?” He looks scared. He’s definitely hoping I mean someone else. I shouldn’t yell at strangers.
“Relax buddy, I’m not requesting any body parts. I just need to get inside and I can’t physically grab hold of a handle and pull right now.”
He sort of smiles. Relief, that’s what he’s feeling. I check my reflection. I’m getting a bad feeling about things. Yep. The clip holding my hair on top of my head to ensure my curly, poofy volume for the day as my mousse sets is still there. Fantastic. I’m late, and I look like a lunatic.
Regardless of the very real possibility that I’m a crazy person, the guy holds the door for me, allowing me entry to a building filled with innocent people. I guess he can afford taking a chance on my sanity. He’s leaving.
As soon as I’m inside, I wish I was out in the parking lot again. This place is packed. Packed and loud. Two things my little introverted self does not care for. But I trudge onward toward the ‘you are here’ map up ahead, trying to zero in on it and not the chaotic mess I’m surrounded by. I suppose I could just search the place for my convention’s banner. I’ve certainly seen it often enough in my inbox. Romance Done Write Con has been emailing me almost daily for the last month, reminding me that I agreed to be on their first panel of the day. A lot of good it did them.
I scan the map several times, unable to really focus on where I am or where I need to go. My brain is too scrambled with everything else it’s trying to process. Like how my pinkie feels like it’s about to break off. And how that will result in my laptop falling to the ground, possibly leading to its ultimate destruction. Not to mention, the blur of people moving to and fro in a way that makes me feel as though I’m about to be swallowed up by it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar…oh…and I write some ;-)
Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.
A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.
I happily reside in sunny Florida (for now) and can be contacted via my blog, my website or the following social media sites ~
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Body, Ink, and Soul
Book One of the Ink Series
Jude Ouvrard
Other Books by Jude Ouvrard
Under the Sun
Wonderland
Lost Dreams
Ophelia
Music, Ink, and Love
Not Afraid to Love you
Safe to Love You
Sweetness
Body, Ink, and Soul
Copyright © 2014 Jude Ouvrard
All rights reserved.
IMPORTANT NOTICE BEFORE READING.
If you are going to read this book, you have to crush on sexy tattooed guys or enjoy a girls’ night out at the club.
But most importantly, you need to understand the meaning of friendship. When your friends are all you have left…
Also, you must feel the need, the passion, and the overwhelming sensation of being the lucky girl in the care of her soul mate.
When love spreads in your body, ink and soul.
DEDICATION
To all my friends who helped me along the way of creating this book.
PROLOGUE
Jackie
''Positive? You’ve gotta be kidding me.'' I stared at the pregnancy test in the bathroom of my parent’s house.
''I’m pregnant,'' I whispered as I gasped for air, feeling my lungs deflate and my heartbeat pound in my temple. I felt dizzy and nauseated, the weight of the realization slamming into me.
Panicked, I dropped the pregnancy test on the cold tile floor, unable to control my trembling hands. What was I going to do? My mom would never approve. I promised her I would wait until my wedding night for my first time. I was only nineteen - I had lied to my mother and I was expecting the worst. She was going to kick me out and I would become the biggest disappointment of her life. Of this I was sure. I sank to the floor, dropping my head into my hands.
What about Brian? We had never really talked about having a baby and we had barely talked about any type of commitment. Quite frankly, he wasn't the type to commit. I knew he loved me – he’d told me hundreds of times how much I meant to him. I crossed my fingers, trying to hold on to some hope. A little luck. He had to support me. I couldn’t imagine going through this alone. I wanted him to be with me and help raise our child. But what would he say?
Should I wait to tell them? Should I abort without mentioning anything to anyone?
As soon as the idea of abortion crossed my mind, another wave of nausea coursed through me. I couldn't even think about it without my heart hurting.
I knew two things immediately - I was going to fight for the life of my unborn child. And it wasn't going to be easy.
I waited two long, seemingly endless months. They were, by far, the worst two months of my existence. Every day was a battle, trying to hide my morning sickness and my growing little belly. I had no idea how far along I was in my pregnancy, but I suspected I was somewhere around four months.
When I started to show, I knew I no longer had a choice – it was time for me to face reality. I had been thinking about how to break the news for months, and I decided I wanted to tell Brian first. He was the father, after all. He had a right to know before anyone… and I expected his reaction to be a lot smoother than my parents’.
One night, we were watchin
g TV in my parent’s basement. I had been worrying myself sick, trying to find the perfect moment to break the news. I watched him as he sat peacefully on the sofa. He had just gotten a huge tattoo on his back. He loved tattoos, motorcycles, and muscle cars. He was a rebel, but I knew he had the sweetest of all hearts. I couldn't think of a life without him. Although he was in a bit of pain from the tatt, he seemed to be in a really good mood. It was now or never.
''Brian, I have something important to tell you. Please, don't freak out.'' I looked at him nervously, trying to tune out the sound of tires screeching on the television.
He looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed. ''What’s wrong, baby?''
I took a deep breath and sat on my trembling fingers to hide how nervous I was. ''I'm pregnant,'' I blurted out.
''You're what?'' His face blanched and he stood up.
''Pregnant. I’m pregnant. We're expecting a baby.'' A small smile traced my lips, but then I realized that he wasn't feeling the same way. I froze, watching him react to my declaration.
His hand had gripped his hair in frenzy. ''Do your parents know? Have you seen a doctor? Are you sure?'' He took a small pause and I could see the distress in his eyes. ''You're only nineteen and I’m twenty-two! Your parents are going to kill me!''
He was right - they wouldn't support us. No tears of joy could be expected from them.
''No, they won't,'' I lied, ''and you are the only one who knows.'' I sat there, holding my breath, afraid to say much more. He was pacing the floor, shoving his hands through his hair repeatedly, I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out.
