by Juli Valenti
Jensen disconnected the call, promising he’d call his partner with an update if he had one, and remained where he was on the couch. Propping his head up, his elbows on his knees, he allowed time to pass. Memories kept flashing at him, thoughts of his buddies in the service who couldn’t handle life after war, the ones who took their lives rather than dealing. He thought of the boy he’d met in the hospital when coming to see Drew, the boy who’d helped him decorate her room for their birthday, never once complaining that it was his day as well.
He thought of the difference between the kid he first met and the kid he’d encountered two weeks ago. Judging by the state he was in, he hadn’t been the same person for quite some time – he no longer looked like the star athlete he’d once been. He’d looked haggard, worn, like life had gotten the better of him. Jensen could have hit himself; he should have recognized the signs. It had been obvious Dean had been drunk, falling down drunk even, yet he’d let his temper get the better of him. And when he’d hit Drew? Jensen hadn’t even thought twice – he’d defended her, given the kid some of his own medicine in an attempt to teach him something.
It was no wonder Drew didn’t want him to touch her. It was probably partially his fault her twin brother was dead. If he hadn’t hit him, hadn’t threatened him and demanded he leave his city, he may still have been there. Of course, there was always the possibility he wouldn’t have been … but still. He felt partially to blame. And, if he was feeling to blame, he was certain Drew felt it even more so.
Hours passed, the sun having gone down who knew how long ago, before Jensen stood, needing to check on her. Opening the door to the room they shared, he found her curled in a ball, clutching something metal tightly to her chest, tears coursing down her face. Not wanting to startle her, or interrupt her, he slowly made his way to the bed, crawling up the other side and laying down to face her. Still he didn’t touch her; instead he let his presence be known – so she’d be certain she wasn’t alone.
After long moments, Drew’s gaze met his and she lifted what she was holding to him, almost in offering. He took it from her, realizing it was a picture frame. In it, she stood with her brother, his arm around her, outside of the school building. They were younger, maybe ten or eleven, and Dean was wearing his football uniform, the number eight proudly emblazed on the front of the purple jersey. Drew stood beside him, wearing a matching purple uniform of skirt and cropped top, a cheerleading uniform. Her red hair stood out in stark comparison, pulled back into a high ponytail, with a temporary tattoo of a paw print on her face. She was smiling radiantly at the camera. Jensen had never seen that sparkle in her eyes, no matter how happy she’d gotten with him, and he knew her mother was still alive. This picture was from before the trauma she’d had to face, before so many bad things had stolen pieces of her.
As if reading his mind, she spoke, her voice hoarse from the tears she’d shed. “Mom died six months later.”
Jensen nodded, unsure what to say. He settled for stating the obvious, hoping it was the right thing to say. “You both look so happy.”
“We were,” she confirmed, “it was before we found out she was sick. When I could hear and the only worries we had were whether or not Dean’s team won.” She sniffed loudly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I can’t remember being that happy … or Dean being that happy. We never expected life to get so … upside down.”
“I know. You were still…”
“Innocent,” she finished his thought, and Jensen inclined his head. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Jens. It feels like a bad dream … like I’ll wake up and this will all be fiction.”
Jensen sighed, wishing like hell it was all just a novel, that at the end everything would turn out okay, that there would be a happily ever after, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I wish it was too,” he said instead, raising his arm in offering. He expected Drew to deny him again, to remain on her side of the bed, barely holding herself together. But she took his invitation, turning so her back was pressed against him, his arm around her, still holding the picture frame.
She took it from his grasp, and held it out so she could see it, before her small body began to tremble and sobs took over. She cried in his arms and Jensen held her, stroking her hair, doing everything he could to comfort her. He promised things he could never deliver, things he would strive to deliver, all the while feeling the heat of tears filling his own eyes.
Jensen knew it was going to be hard for Drew to move on from this, from losing another piece of herself. But he was determined. Even if it took him getting her out of the city that held so many memories for her, he would do everything in his power to help her heal. She wouldn’t live in the dark forever, he wouldn’t allow it.
She was his fire, his light, and until she could burn on her own, he would hold the torch. He would hold her until she could do it on her own because, even hurting the way she was, she was the piece he’d been looking for. He’d moved there to get away, to find a part of himself that had been missing. Little did he know that while she was losing the pieces of herself, that she’d be the piece he’d come to Chance to find.
The End
of Pieces in Chance,
Book One in the chance Series
Keep an eye out for another chance,
coming soon
Acknowledgements
To Rene – As always, thank you for being there. You’re my best friend, my cover artist, my formatter, my therapist, my conscience, my idea wall… you’re the bomb.com.
To Megan – You are one of the reasons this book gained life. Thank you for your demands for more, for always supporting me, and talking me out of myself when I think I suck.
To Morgan & Laura Stout – Thank you for entertaining the crazy author flagging you down at a signing, begging for information so she could pick your brain later on. The resources you both provided me with, along with my questions, were more valuable to me than you can know.
To my family – I love you, and like always, thank you for putting up with me.
And, last but most important, to my readers – Thank you for sticking with me throughout my variety of writing. You are irreplaceable and I’m so appreciative for each and every one of you. You rock.
About the Author
Juli Valenti grew up in a small town in Arkansas, known for Wal-mart, which is no longer small but is still known for the grocery store. Lucky for her, she didn’t retain an accent, despite her overuse of ya’ll when talking. She currently resides in sunny Florida with her husband and two young boys. If her world wasn’t crazy enough, she also works a full time day job, as well as owns her own editing company (Juli’s Elite Editing).
Follow Juli
You can connect with Juli via the following:
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www.julivalenti.com/newsletter/
Website
www.julivalenti.com
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Twitter
@thejulivalenti
Amazon
www.amazon.com/author/julivalenti
Juli’s Books
The Distracted Series
Greatest Distraction (Distracted Book 1)
Global Distraction (Distracted Book 2)
The Chance Series
Pieces in Chance (Chance Book 1)
Coming Soon – Another Chance (Chance Book 2)
Favorite Things Series
(co-authored with Rene Folsom)
Adventurous
Bound
Coming Soon – Charming
A Little Broken
Vancleave (Learning to Submit Book 1)
All Our Love (Anthology):
All Roads Lead to Jackson
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seve
n
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Follow Juli
Juli’s Books
