Kinetic Energy
Page 1
Table of Contents
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
Kinetic Energy
Hayley Faiman
Kinetic Energy
Copyright © 2017 by Hayley Faiman
All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com
Editor: Gray Ink. Ellie McLove. https://www.grayinkonline.com/
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at
http://hayleyfaiman.com
ISBN-13: 978-1986340595
ISBN-10: 1986340597
Contents
Also By Hayley Faiman
Follow me here—
About the Author
ki·net·ic en·er·gy
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
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
SPECIAL THANKS
Also By Hayley Faiman
Men of Baseball—
Pitching for Amalie
Catching Maggie
Forced Play for Libby
Sweet Spot for Victoria
Russian Bratva Series—
Owned by the Badman
Seducing the Badman
Dancing for the Badman
Living for the Badman
Tempting the Badman
Protected by the Badman
Forever my Badman
Betrothed to the Badman
Chosen by the Badman
Bought by the Badman (May 2018)
Notorious Devils MC—
Rough & Raw
Rough & Rugged
Rough & Ruthless
Rough & Ready
Rough & Rich
Rough & Real
Cash Bar Series —
Laced with Fear (April 2018)
Standalone Title—
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale
Personal Foul
Kinetic Energy
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About the Author
As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.
Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.
Hayley’s husband joined the military and they lived in Oregon, where he was stationed with the US Coast Guard. They moved back to California in 2006, where they had two little boys. Recently, the four of them moved out to the Hill Country of Texas, where they adopted a new family member, a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.
Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to the baseball fields for practice, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.
ki·net·ic en·er·gy
ki·net·ic en·er·gy
noun:
energy that a body possesses by virtue of being in motion.
PROLOGUE
ONE MONTH BEFORE THE NEW SCHOOL YEAR STARTS
THOMAS
The text message from my wife is simply put. As are all of her texts. Phone calls are rare between us, these days, as are visits between one another. I can’t even recall the last time I saw my own spouse.
DANIELLE: Won’t be home until NEXT Friday.
It didn’t always used to be this way. Once we were in love, blissfully so. Something changed over the past twenty years of marriage, something ugly wormed its way between us. It’s now there. It’s an ugly, breathing, living thing. Nothing can take it away, God knows I’ve tried. No amount of second, third, or even fifth honeymoons can make it disappear.
I’m fairly certain she doesn’t even like me, let alone love me, and unfortunately, the feeling is mutual. We stay married, fuck knows why. We’re stuck in this spinning circle, like hamsters spinning our wheels, either afraid or too comfortable to make any kind of change.
However, for the past five years, I’ve taken to sleeping with students who are willing. I slipped my ring off the first day I cheated, and I never put it back on. Danielle had already taken hers off, the moment I told her that I was moving to Nebraska. It was like a switch flipped for both of us, as if our marriage is something that is simply just—there.
Danielle, I honestly don’t know what the fuck she’s doing. I wish I knew. She’s a risk and compliance consultant for some big company in New York. It’s where we’re from, but I couldn’t get a job there. When an opening became available for a teaching job in Nebraska, and I was offered a position in the physics department, I quickly accepted.
> Stupidly, I thought that Danielle would come with me. She didn’t. She travels for her job, extensively as it is, so she told me that she would just come to Nebraska when her schedule allowed. She loved the idea, said that settling down in a small town, away from the buzz of the city would be wonderful for us. I can’t deny that I’ve enjoyed it immensely, though I’m not sure how she feels about it since she’s hardly here. She never settled down in the city of Lincoln, in fact, she’s never fucking here.
K
My response is short, to the point, and full of fucking bitterness. I can’t even remember the last time I laid eyes on my wife, as it is. Now, she’s saying she won’t be home for almost another two weeks. Fuck this, and fuck her. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I feel so fucking out of control when it comes to my marriage. Like I’m spiraling in this black fucking hole, falling, and it’s bottomless—an endless pit.
Standing from my office chair, I slip my phone into my pocket and let out a groan.
How did I let my life get to this point?
When did I give up everything I dreamed of and settle for this monotony of nothingness?
When did I decide to be childless?
At forty-four I’ve given up on having children. Danielle is already forty, and unless we adopt, it’s not going to happen. How did we not talk about this? How did we work through it all? That’s what we did too, we’ve been working, and trudging through the mud, not fucking talking about anything.
Locking my office door, I head toward my car. I don’t drive anything fancy, a little black four-door coupe, BMW 4 Series. It’s the one thing I enjoy in my life, my car. Everything else, just seems—tainted. Even the students I fuck, they’re tainted. I never know if they want me for me, or because they think I can do something for them. I tend not to dip into my own students, choosing other women from campus to alleviate any student-teacher scandals.
Tonight, I don’t feel like doing anything. I’m just going to go home, go to bed, and swim in my own fucking self-pity. In a month, things will be different. The rush of the new semester, and the hustle and bustle of my new classes will fill me with some sense of excitement—hopefully.
INES
My oldest brother glares at me. He mutters something, but I don’t understand him—I never do. He knows Spanish, but our father left before I was even born so I didn’t learn a single word from him. Also, stubbornly I refused to learn the language fluently. I have some daddy issues where my father is concerned. My issues are that I hate him, and I never knew him.
“Dare to repeat that in English, since you’re being rude and not everybody at the table understands?” I ask, arching a brow.
Kosmo, my eldest brother, glares at me. “You’re stupid, Ines. You’re choosing to leave us and live in Nebraska?” he almost spits the word out, sounding as though he’s disgusted.
I shrug, acting as if I’m unaffected by his words. In actuality, they hurt. Kosmo is the only father-type figure I’ve ever had. To hear him tell me that I’m stupid, or that I’m making a stupid decision, fills me with doubt and pain. If my mama were sitting here, she would slap him upside the head for talking such a way. She’s not here though, she’s working night shift this week.
“She studied hard, Kosmo, are you going to begrudge her an education?” Lola, my second oldest sister asks.
Kosmo grunts and shakes his head. “I could give a fuck what she, or any of you does, as long as you make something of yourselves. Nobody else in this family is wasting time and money, attempting a four-year university. What’s your major, Ines? What are you going to do with your life?”
My bottom lip trembles and I shake my head. “You know I don’t have a major.”
Kosmo throws his napkin on the table and stands, leaning over with anger in his eyes. “You’re the baby. I’ve spoiled you, we’ve all spoiled you way too fucking much and now look at you.” He grunts. I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t, he just storms off.
Lola wraps her hand around mine and gives it a squeeze. “He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a normal teenager, Ines. You have to understand that we’ve never been normal teens, but we tried to make your childhood and adolescence as normal as possible. You’re doing everything you’re meant to do. Go to Nebraska, freeze your ass off, and have some fucking fun.” She grins.
My other sister, Novia, giggles and my brother, Rio, who is only three years older than me snorts. “She’s right. I had more of a normal childhood than the rest, but I’m a boy, it’s different. We want you to be somebody, Ines. You’re so fucking smart. You got this college shit in the bag,” he chuckles.
I spend the rest of my evening with three out of the four of my siblings. We talk, reminisce, and eat. Tomorrow everything will be different. Tomorrow we’re all driving together to Nebraska. They’re going to drop me off, including Mama. Lola is driving my car while I sit shotgun. Novia and Mama are going to hang in the backseat.
My brothers are taking Kosmo’s truck because they’re smelly boys and we refuse to be cooped up in the tight space with them. I think that I’m more excited about the road trip than anything else.
Then, once they’re gone, my new journey, my new life will begin.
I’m terrified.
CHAPTER ONE
FIRST DAY OF CLASSES
THOMAS
I watch as the students pile into my class. They all look a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I try to remember being that way, I try, and I fail. I can’t remember the last time I was that excited for much of anything.
Finishing up some notes, I wait for the clock to tick, until it’s exactly ten in the morning, on the dot. I’m a stickler for time and needing control. Perhaps it’s because I have such little control over my personal life that I try to overcompensate in my classroom? I’m not a psych professor, so I’m not going to dig too deeply into it.
Once the alarm on my phone beeps, I stand. I begin the first class session, by introducing myself to the entire group of students.
“I am Professor Thomas Jacobson, and you are in physics one-oh-one. If you are not signed up for this course and do not wish to be added, then you’ll need to leave. If you are not signed up for this course and wish to be waitlisted, please see me after I’ve dismissed everyone. For now, I’ll hand out syllabi and get started.”
It’s the same speech I give to every class. This is probably my most headache course. It’s one of those pre-reqs that students need to fill, and maybe only a quarter are actually interested. The rest are just trying to earn a passing grade.
My day continues on in a monotonous way, as the first day of classes always does. When it’s finished, I head home, toward my empty house. When I pull my car into the driveway, I sit and stare at the little off-white home. It’s a two story, but not grandiose in anyway. It’s a place where I imagined our family would grow, and yet, we’re stagnant.
Deciding I can’t go inside of that dark empty house tonight, I put my car in reverse and head toward a club. I don’t go to the clubs around here very often, they’re full of kids, but tonight I’m hoping to find one who will take my mind off of my shitty life for an hour or so. I’ll wake up feeling regretful as I always do, but right now I don’t care.
The line to get inside wraps around the side of the building and I snort. You’d think it was some fancy New York club, instead of a little eighteen and over place in Nebraska, aptly named Huskies. Parking my car, I slide out and straighten my shirt. I discard my tie, throwing it in the passenger seat of the vehicle before I bypass the line and head straight for the bouncer checking ID’s at the front door.
“Hey Professor Jacobson,” he chuckles. “C’mon in,” he announces stepping to the side.
He was a student of mine about two years ago, smart kid, he’s going to make something of himself one day, I just know it. Lifting my chin to him as I pass, I head toward the twenty-one and over section. I show my ID to get inside and I walk over to the bar.
“Corona,” I shou
t as the bartender waits for me.
He lifts his chin and less than thirty seconds later, there is an ice-cold beer in front of me. I throw down some bills, including a tip, and walk over to an empty table for two against the wall.
The walls are a thick clear Plexiglas so that you can see around the entire dance floor. There are lifted platforms, with metal bars around them, forming a cage where anybody can climb up and dance. It really is the perfect place for college kids.
I’m the oldest person, by about twenty-five years in the whole place. I should feel uncomfortable at that thought, but I don’t. I’m enjoying watching the women dance and the men try to join in. Then a flash of black catches my eye.
Turning slightly, I see her.
Her black hair is all the way down to her waist. Her curvy body is wrapped up tightly in a figure-hugging dress. She’s not as thin as most of the girls standing around her, her body has the curves of a woman instead of a girl.
My cock presses against the zipper of my suit pants as I watch her. She turns her head, showing me her profile as she smiles, talking to another girl, perhaps. I’m not sure, because I can’t take my fucking eyes off of her.