Deeper in You
Copyright © 2016 by David S. Scott
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Darkmantle Designs
Edited by Matt Schiariti
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: July 2016
Published by Seraph Wing Publishing
ISBN-13 978-0-9907111-7-9 (ebook)
ISBN-13 978-0-9907111-9-3 (print)
Acknowledgements:
A huge thank you to my incredible wife, Stephanie. Your love and support mean so much to me. Most of this story would not have been possible without your encouragement and faith
To my personal assistant (PitA), Melissa Ann, how you put up with my nonsense (I was going to use a different word but was told it was bad to curse in acknowledgments) each day is beyond me. Yet here you are, making me write, organizing the street team, and tirelessly promoting and supporting me. You’ve been with me since the start of this crazy adventure, back when Xander was a tantra instructor. My how things changed. But you stayed with me, encouraging me and guiding me. I can’t ever thank you enough.
I’d like to thank my editor, Matt Schiariti, for all your help and ideas. You may have made me wonder if I even know how to speak English, but the book wouldn’t be anywhere near as good without you so I’m glad to have endured the torture.
A special thanks to the very talented Darkmantle Designs for the wonderful job on the cover and formatting.
To all the members of my street team, David’s Decadent Divas, I appreciate everything you do. You ladies promote every day, and have done so even before my books were even close to being released. If it weren’t for you, no one would have ever heard of me or my books. Thank you so much for everything.
To my Beta Readers—Melissa Ann, Ella Medler, Elizabeth Booth Bennett, Lacia Carabas, Marcia Mason-Heaston, Tammy Markowski, Terrie Meerschaert, Rachelle Pianalto Jones, Cristiane Karamanolis, Denise Williams, Tosha Merritt Rabideau, Kathy Atwell, Chrisstine Hague Pearce, and Donna Tripi Salzano—thank you for everything you have done. Each and every one of you has touched this book in some way, and helped to make it better.
Last, but not least, a huge thanks to you, the reader. Without readers, there would be no reason for writers to write. I hope you enjoy Deeper in You and consider leaving a review to let me and other readers know what you thought about this book.
This book is dedicated to everyone that stuck with me over the last year, “patiently” waiting for Xander’s story to be released. Yes, all of you that attended my takeovers, sent me messages, and generally nagged me for release dates. Now that it’s finally finished, I hope you consider the wait to be worth it. To all of you, I have one question to ask:
Do you believe in fate?
Chapter One
“Lily Campbell, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
The situation was far from ideal. I was proposing to a woman I barely knew, my career was over, and my back was broken. I’m not sure how much more fucked up this situation could be, but I was determined to make the best of it and get our lives back on track. Lily was pregnant with my child, and I knew we could be happy together, knew that we had to try. Perhaps I hadn’t done such a great job of showing her how supportive I could be before, but it should be obvious now. I’d brought her a bouquet of roses and lilies. I’d picked out her ring, a stunning two-karat princess cut which had set me back quite a bit. I looked at her, hoping my feelings shone through my eyes and smile.
She dropped the flowers on the floor, causing some of them to spill out of the green cellophane wrapping. The chaotic way the fragile buds splayed on the floor reflected my frayed nerves. I forced myself to look at her face, noticing the blood had drained away, leaving her as pale as the white sand Florida beaches were famous for. Her mouth hung open. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, her expression would have been comical–a perfect caricature of shock.
I waited for her to pull herself together. I knew my question had come as a surprise, but this was the right thing to do. I’d stay by her side and we’d raise our baby together.
Finally, her mouth closed, and color returned to her cheeks. She seemed to have gained back some of her composure. I waited patiently for her to accept and put me out of my misery.
“Oh, Xander… no.”
I swallowed. “N-no?” My breathing was erratic. I felt confused, and my head swam as I tried to make sense of what she said.
“No. I’m sorry. I can’t. I–I have to go.” She fled past me and out the door before I could manage to form another thought.
A pain worse than what trampled my spine and shoulder tore through my chest. What did this mean? She couldn’t possibly intend to raise the baby by herself, could she? Had I screwed up that badly? I hobbled into my kitchen and grabbed a shot glass, filling it with three fingers of Patrón. I wasn’t sure if it would be the pain in my chest or my injuries that would do me in. I slammed the drink back and stared at the front door, a tiny crack letting in the humid Orlando air. Should I call her? The questions circled around my brain, and I had trouble grasping any single one of them.
No. I’d call her later. Let her have tonight to calm down. I was certain she’d be back when she had time to process everything. I’d needed time to process things, too.
Damn. Pregnant women and their hormones, I poured another glass of tequila and took a big sip. Would it really be so bad if we didn’t get married? We could still get along like reasonable adults and take care of our son or daughter, even if we ended up apart. I downed the rest of the shot and poured a third.
Why the hell would she tell me no, anyway? I took a long swallow of the smooth liquor and frowned. I’d offered her everything I am and would be with that ring. I was good looking, and charming, and… why would she just toss me aside? Fuck her.
Standing in my kitchen, drinking alone, it struck me how much of a loser I was. I grabbed the bottle of Patrón and hobbled to the living room to ease myself onto the couch, shutting the front door as I passed. This was much better… now I was sitting in the living room drinking alone. Much more suave.
I pulled out my phone and took a swig straight from the bottle. I should call her. What would I say? No, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. She’d run out on me, not the other way around. My chest still hurt. Damn it.
I sat on the couch, drinking and staring at my phone. I lost all sense of time; I could have been sitting there for hours for all I knew. The previously full bottle was about to run dry, I needed… needed…
Fuck. I was gonna hurl.
I rose to my feet and stumbled, nearly falling. My back throbbed as I jerked to remain on my feet. In a split-second decision, I painfully stumbled toward the kitchen.
I violently emptied the contents of my stomach into the garbage can, then slumped to the floor. My phone had fallen near the couch. I crawled toward it. The room spun. My vision blurred. I grabbed the wretched device and shakily pressed the icon with Lily’s picture. The sound of
ringing filled my ears.
“What, Xander?” she snapped.
“We have to talk,” I slurred.
“We have nothing to talk about and I’m busy now.”
“Bisshy? You need to make time for me, becaush–”
“Are you drunk? What the hell is the matter with you? I thought you’d be happy. Look, Xander, we had some fun times, had some laughs, but we both knew this wasn’t going anywhere. Look how you panicked at the first sign of trouble. I have no idea what possessed you to pull that stunt with the ring, but we weren’t there yet. To be honest, I’m not sure we were ever going to be there, but now I know we never will. You’ve ruined it.”
“Lily, shtop. Shtop. We can talk thish out–”
I forced myself to get up and limp to the kitchen counter. I needed to focus. I was so determined to get there I almost missed what she was saying. Almost… but not quite.
“No, we can’t talk this out. I have to go. I don’t want to see you again, and won’t be hitting you up for child support because there will be no child. I’ve made an appointment at the clinic. Leave me alone.”
“Y-you… you made an appointment? When? Why? I thought you shaid you loved me…”
“Clearly, I was wrong to think that. You’re nothing but an immature adolescent yourself. How could we possibly handle a baby? Anyway, I don’t want any kids. Not with you, not with anyone. Not now, maybe not ever. I made the appointment yesterday, after I woke up here alone. After you walked out on me. I spent the rest of the day moving my stuff out. You only caught me there this morning because I’d forgotten something.”
“Lily, please don’t… Don’t do this. Don’t get an abortion. We can work this out. If you don’t want to raise our baby, then I will. Please. Lily, I’ll get on my knees and beg.” I struggled to coherently form the words. This was too important for there to be any misunderstanding. life was too short, too precious. The loss of my sister had taught me that. Combine that with my failed career, and it was just one more thing to be stripped away from me. I had nothing left to lose.
Silence was my only response. I looked at my phone. She’d hung up.
I reached for a bottle of Bacardi 151, took a long draw, then scrolled through phone numbers until I found Sam Henderson’s entry. My coach was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend. I punched it without thinking. It went straight to voicemail.
“Sam, Xander. Lishten, Lily said no. She’s ending everything, so no kid. Want to come over and get shmashed with me? Call me back or just drop by.” There. I sounded calm, cool, and collected. I think.
I couldn’t believe she was going to have an abortion. Why? How could she do this to me? To us? I drank some more, using what strength of will I had left to make sure it stayed down. Where did…
My eyes rolled back in my head as a ringing filled my ears. What was I thinking? It was… where…
Chapter Two
An insistent pounding in my head roused me. I covered my eyes with my palms and tried to block it out, only to realize the sound was coming from the door. Not only that, but my phone was buzzing as well.
“Xander!” Knock. Knock. Knock. “Xander! Open up, already.”
Sam sounded pissed about something.
I tried to sit up, but agony coursed through me like fire. My stomach churned, and I submitted to my body’s demands and remained on the floor. The carpeting reeked of Bacardi and vomit, but I was too miserable to care.
The volume increased. It almost felt like Sam was knocking directly on my head. He clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. I struggled to think. I had shut that door, but had I locked it?
“It’s open,” I rasped. The sound that emerged from my throat was not my own. Rather, it sounded like a demonic frog with laryngitis.
The banging continued unabated. He couldn’t hear me. Summoning the last of my strength, I snatched the phone up and answered it with the speaker button. No need to look at who was calling. “What?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Answer this damn door.”
I dropped the phone, wincing, and closed my eyes to block out the influx of agony at the sound.
“Xander…?”
“Did you try the knob?” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“I said… the God damned door was never locked, asshole. Turn the knob.”
Sam walked in, the bright Florida sunlight painful even through my closed eyelids. I squirmed, fighting the pain in order to turn my head away.
“What have you done?” Sam’s judgmental tone broke through my bubble of self-pity as I heard him drop onto the couch.
“Got drunk. The hell does it look like?”
“I could tell that from your message. Xander… you should see yourself.”
“Fuck off.”
“No. I get that you’re going through a shit time right now. But you know what? You’re not the first guy to ever knock up a girl. You were careless and you fucked up. Worse, you allowed it to control you so much that you’ve completely screwed up the rest of your life.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I tried to sit up, but surrendered once more to gravity and settled back on the wet carpet. “I’ve lost everything. My life has gone downhill since the day I met her. First the drugs, then the baby. She’s been screwing with my mind and my emotions since day one.”
“That’s enough. You’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen hard. I don’t know what sort of friendship you think we have, but let me spell it out for you. I am your coach. That is first and foremost. I am also your friend and sometimes–unfortunately–your confidant. I’ve known you forever, and let me tell you, this is not you. You’ve become a pussy. My, how the mighty have fallen, Xander. You need to decide: you can either get your shit together, learn to take responsibility for your own choices, and fight to reclaim the man you once were. Or… you can wallow here like a lovesick teenager, blaming Lily and bad luck and generally acting like the pussy you are. Either way, you need to remember that I am your coach and I will not come over here, watch you drink yourself stupid, and be cool with it. Got me?”
“Sorry I called. Sorry I was mistaken that you were my friend. But I’m not sure what I need a coach for anymore. I’m done. Washed up.”
“You keep going like this, you will be. And I am your friend, asswipe.”
“Just leave me alone. I’m fine.”
“You are not fucking fine. You can’t even get up, can you?”
Silence was my answer.
“That floor looks disgusting and, frankly, it reeks in here.”
“Then go away.”
“How’s the back?”
“How the hell do you think? It’s broken, God damn it.”
“Have you been taking your pills?”
Pills… where did I leave those? “No. Not even sure where they are.”
Sam heaved a big sigh and stood. “Come on, hotshot. Let’s get you off the floor. I can’t stay long. My wife was almost done cooking dinner when I noticed your message. I scared the shit out of her.”
Strong arms gripped my chest, under my arms, and lifted. Too tired to either fight or help, I just let him pull me up into a kneeling position, and assist me to my feet.
“Hurts, Sam. It all hurts.”
“I know, kid. Bed or couch?”
“Couch, I guess. Stairs don’t sound fun.”
“No, you’ll need to get your stuff moved down for a while. I can call John and we’ll come help tomorrow.”
“It’s cool. Only thing I need from there is clothes. I’ll go up once and throw everything over the landing or some shit. It’s no big deal. I don’t need help.”
“Xander–”
“Just leave me the fuck alone for a while, Sam. Okay? I don’t want help.”
“Fine. You should eat, though.”
I glared at him. “I’m not eating jack shit. In case you haven’t noticed by my sunny disposition, I’m fighting a hangover. Know what sucks?
Drunk puking. Know what’s worse than that? Drunk puking with a broken back.”
“You did it to yourself.”
“Thanks. That really helps.”
“Glad to hear it does. You should remember what I said.”
A grunt was my only response. I knew Sam meant well, but I wanted him and his noise to get out of my house. I never should have told him he could come in.
“All right.” Sam walked into my kitchen and returned a moment later to press a cold water bottle into my hands. “Drink some water, at least. Where are your pain pills?”
I closed my eyes. When I got home, I’d called to Lily, proposed, then started drinking. Had to be either here or in the car. I shifted in my seat and pulled my prescription bottle out of my pocket.
“Good. You should take one. You heard the doctor: you’ll heal faster if you stay ahead of the pain instead of chasing it. That way, your body can focus on getting better instead of blocking pain receptors.”
“I heard him. I was there.”
“Good. Maybe try doing what someone tells you, for once. Sometimes we have your best interests at heart.”
I scratched at some filth on my clothes. “Sam?”
“Yes?”
“If I’d wanted her to abort and she refused, I’d have still had to pay child support forever. And I’d have looked like a dick. Why does she get the final word when I don’t want her to abort? Why is she the only one who gets to decide?”
“One of the great mysteries of the world, kid. Your right of choice ended when you chose to not use protection.”
“I know. Just doesn’t seem fair.” I fought down another wave of nausea and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. “See ya, Sam. Glad you could stop by. Let’s do it again sometime.”
“Do you want me to call Melissa and let her know I’ll be hanging out here with you for a while?”
“God no. I just want quiet. I’ll take a pill and try to sleep.”
“I’ll check in on you soon. Take it easy, okay? And, Xander?”
“Mmm?”
“No more booze.”
Deeper In You (The Phoenix Series Book 2) Page 1
