Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
Shots
Bleeding Out
Should I Stay or Should I Go
Holding On
Light Up the Dark
All the Little Pieces
Broken
What We Learn
Proud as a Peacock
Let it Rain
Turn the Page
Bring Me to Life
Hummingbird
Hope
Free Falling
Set Fire to the Rain
Fire and the Flood
All Around Me
Mess is Mine
SAVE ME
Alexandra Page
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PRONOUN
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All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2017 by Alexandra Page
Cover design by Jada D’Lee Designs
Interior design by Pronoun
Edited by Rachael Cosgrove and JA Brown
Distribution by Pronoun
ISBN: 9781537869865
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Shots
Bleeding Out
Should I Stay or Should I Go
Holding On
Light Up the Dark
All the Little Pieces
Broken
What We Learn
Proud as a Peacock
Let it Rain
Turn the Page
Bring Me to Life
Hummingbird
Hope
Free Falling
Set Fire to the Rain
Fire and the Flood
All Around Me
Mess is Mine
For my three favorite people in the world. Because you love me enough to let me do this.
PROLOGUE
~
THIS ONE COMES AT ME like all the rest–creeping and crawling over my skin with its needle feet. Up my legs, to my mouth, slithering in to twist my stomach in knots and squeeze the air from my lungs, its long fingers wrapped around my throat. All I hear are the screams of my heart as it tries to run away. But there’s nowhere to go. We’re trapped.
That’s what panic is. The monster that cages you in, ties you down, laughing as part of your soul withers and dies. You’re fine one minute, the next you’re huddled in a ball on the floor, with cold sweat pouring from your clammy skin while your ribs try to withstand the terrified thrashing of your heart.
You’re left gasping for air that won’t come, while tears stream from your burning eyes. You tell yourself you’re not dying, but wonder if this isn’t death, what could it possibly be? I imagined death was peaceful, not this living hell. That’s what the voices whispering in my ear make me think anyway.
“We’ve got you. You’re ours now. This is where you belong. You’re poison, Ellie Marie Cochran. Cursed, no good. You don’t deserve happiness. They’re all gone because of you. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.”
It’s usually the pain that brings me back. Nails biting into flesh or teeth sinking into lips, the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. They give me something else to focus on, something to distract me from the fear so I can fight back.
Each battle leaves me weaker than the one before. The relief of being let loose never lasts long. Just as I think my feet are steady the voices are there again, ready to pounce, always lurking in the shadows–in a memory, a picture, or a familiar smell.
This is my existence. I’m no longer the steel magnolia I was raised to be. A weeping willow would be a much better metaphor.
SHOTS
~
ELLIE
SAVANNAH’S A HELL OF A lot bigger than I thought it’d be. If I’d known there’d be this many people I would’ve stayed right where I was.
Just breathe, Ellie. Breathe and count. It’s just traffic and people. They don’t know you, and you don’t know them. There’s no need to turn around and go back. We gotta get groceries, remember? And coffee, I need coffee. I want Starbucks, too. One of those caramel Frappuccino’s I had in Atlanta. It was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. Maybe it’ll soothe my nerves a bit, so I can actually make it inside somewhere. Now, I just need to find it.
After fifteen minutes of driving, hunting, and sweating, I find the elusive mermaid–I’ll count that as my miracle for the day. The drive-thru, however, is packed. That’s more like another curse to add to my list of curses.
Do I risk going inside? Inside means people. I don’t do well with people. Ugh, I need to get my shit together, and act like a normal person for a change.
I circle the block one more time to gather my courage, then pull into the parking lot. I’m going inside even if it kills me.
Maybe it will if I’m lucky.
With a few deep breaths for good measure I get out of the car. Once inside I relax a bit. It’s only slightly more crowded than I thought–five customers and two employees that I can see. Not a single one of them is paying me any attention.
I can handle this. I can.
Stepping in line behind the two guys at the register, I let the rich aromas and mellow hipster tunes do their intended job of easing my frazzled nerves. They work well enough, I barely even jump when the harsh peel of the doorbell cuts through the calm a few minutes later, but when someone steps up behind me I have to clamp down on the jolts of anxiety running through my nerves like hot waves.
Willing my feet to stay put, I pray for the guys in front of me to hurry the hell up, so I can get out of here. They must be ordering for their whole damn office. They’ve been up there since I walked in, and they’re still giving orders. After several more minutes of waiting the person behind me lets out a heavy sigh.
“I just had to have another cup of coffee. I should’ve known better,” the deep, velvet voice of a man mutters.
I decide to be brave–normal people respond when they’re spoken to after all–and turn around to give him a smile of agreement. All I see is a white button up covering a muscular chest. My eyes dart upward.
Wowza. They must make ‘em different down here than they do in Tennessee. I’ve never seen a man so pretty in all my life.
He’s tall, really tall, with dark blonde hair that’s long enough to really run your hands through. His eyes are so blue I swear they’re glowing, and he has bone structure a Greek god would be jealous of.
“You okay down there?” he asks, with a lop-sided grin.
Good Lord, he needs warning signs strapped to him or something and apparently, I need help. Living in a bubble for two years does not make for a socially adept person. I’m a widow and widows don’t ogle men. Act right and answer him, for Pete’s sake.
I grin like the idiot I am, and try to act normal. “Sorry, guess I’ve been waiting so long my brain short circuited. Did you say something?”
“It’s okay. I was just talking to myself. I said I should’ve known better than to come in here. I’m gonna be late now.”
I wince in empathy. “Sorry. I don’t have to be anywhere, you’re welcome to go ahead of me.”
A soft smile pulls at his pretty mouth, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I may melt.
“Thank you, that’s really sweet, but it’s okay. My students can wait, they’re big kids.”
“I don’t mind, really. Are you sure…?”
“Nikolas,” he says, giving me a panty-melting grin.
“Hmm?”
Panty-melting? Real
ly, Ellie? What the hell is wrong with you? I need to call Vicky as soon as I’m outta here, we gotta work on my meds.
“My name’s Nikolas Jensen. Most people call me Nik. It’s nice to meet you.” He’s still grinning, his hand held out for me to shake.
When I slip mine into it, it swallows it whole.
Josh’s weren’t near this big. Right, Josh. Don’t forget Josh.
“I’m Ellie Cochran. Nice to meet you too, Nik,” I tell him politely offering a small smile.
There, getting my wits back, maybe.
“Ellie Cochran, very Southern belle. I like it.” The way my name sounded coming out of his mouth was sinful.
“Thank you,” I whisper, a thrilling tremor running through me as I pull my hand from his.
This needs to stop. These feelings are so foreign to me now, I’m not sure that I like them.
Turning back around, I decide to end whatever this is. I feel him lean a little closer, his large presence sending a shiver up my spine–not the bad kind either.
“I’m in here every day, and I haven’t seen you before. Are you just visiting?”
Dangit. My Southern manners won’t let me be rude and not respond.
Turning to face him again, I give him a strained smile. “Yeah, I’m only here for a short stay. Just taking a few weeks off. Do you live here?”
Shit, I didn’t mean to keep the conversation going.
“Yep. Been here all my life. I work a few blocks to the west at SCAD.”
Does the man ever quit grinning? It’s making it damn hard not to smile back.
He gets more gorgeous with every second that passes. He’s so tall–I’d guess close to six-five–and lean. Not skinny, just foot after foot of strong, trim muscle. I bet he wears a thirty-two waist in his jeans, thirty-four at the most. The length would have to be at least a thirty-eight, more like forty. My heart clenches remembering how I would know that.
I’m a wife. No, I was a wife.
It was part of what I did, buying Josh’s clothes. He wore a thirty-eight, thirty-two. I take a deep breath to clear my head.
“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with SCAD. What is it you do?”
“It’s the Savannah College of Art and Design. I teach furniture design there.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds neat. I never thought about the fact someone has to design our furniture. All my stuff is antiques. Do you do more modern pieces?” There I go again, asking questions, but he’s so nice to look at I may as well enjoy the view while I can, and his voice could melt butter, it’s so deep and smooth.
Nice, Ellie, real nice. You sound like a desperate teenager. What would Josh think?
He’s dead, remember?
Like I would ever forget. Now quit acting like a crazy person, he’s trying to talk to you.
“Mostly yes, but I love antiques, too. The skill that was required to make them is far beyond what most craftsmen have today. I have quite a mix of old and modern in my own place. I insist my students learn the old techniques of furniture building, as well as the new, more efficient, methods,” he says passionately. I actually let my real smile come through a bit.
“Sounds like you really love what you do, congrats on that. Many people aren’t that lucky.”
“Thanks, I do consider myself lucky, in that aspect.” His grin turns into a breathtaking smile as he stares down at me.
Damn, he’s gorgeous.
“Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” the barista yells. I jump as Mr. Gorgeous scowls over my head at said barista.
Giggling like some love-struck teenager, I turn around and order. I’m ready to get my Frappuccino and get away from this man that’s causing all these mixed-up feelings in me. He has me a whole lot more unsettled than I’m comfortable with.
As I’m finishing up there’s a commotion behind me, but I ignore it, digging in my purse for my money. When I look up at the cashier, his eyes are wide as saucers. He looks like someone just ran across his grave, as Aunt Maggie would say.
What the hell? Did I slip into one of my spells or something?
Then I get pinned to the counter by Mr. Gorgeous, his back pressed into mine. I open my mouth to yell at him to get off me, but he grabs one of my arms.
“Be quiet and don’t move.”
I don’t listen, instead a peeking around his shoulder. There are two men wearing all black, with masks over their faces, standing in front of the only way in or out of this place. Both of them have a gun in each of their hands, and they’re pointing them right at us.
Looks like I may die today whether I want to or not. Thing is, now that it’s staring me in the face, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to.
~
NIK
You’re minding your own business, just getting a good cup of coffee and enjoying some conversation with a beautiful woman, and BAM! Some dickheads have to come along and ruin everyone’s day.
It’d been a good day up until this point too. Gorgeous weather, perfect for the last day of classes before spring break. I was happy I was going to get to work on some of my own pieces while classes were out. Just me, my workshop, and the dog to keep me company.
I only had one class left today before I walked in here. I should have gone through the drive-thru. Better yet, I should have left when I realized how long the wait was gonna be inside. But then she turned around, and I decided my students wouldn’t mind if I was a few minutes late. I’d been late before, they knew what to do until I got there.
I had only been talking to myself. I do that a lot, it’s a bad habit of mine. I guess she thought I was talking to her, so she was polite and turned around, like any good Southern girl would.
I had noticed her already since she was standing right in front of me. I figured she was gonna be pretty with her slight curves wrapped tightly in those yoga pants and her long, wavy blonde hair. She looked tiny compared to me, but then again, they always were thanks to my Swedish giant genes. I’m six foot four and a quarter, she has to be a foot shorter than me. It’d be a miracle if the top of her head made it to my collarbone.
What I wasn’t prepared for was her face. It was a good thing it took her a few seconds to answer me, because I needed a few myself.
She’s beautiful.
Her skin’s like porcelain, so smooth and pale–very unusual for a blonde. I’m not a sap, the artist in me just notices these kinds of things. Her blue eyes are so huge she reminds me of one of those Precious Moments figurines Leia had when she was little. They’re the same shade I always wanted mine to be as a kid, too, a deep, dark blue, like the ocean. They’re lovely set against her fair skin.
Mine are a light crystal blue, more suited for a woman than a man, in my opinion. Women seem to love them, so I deal with it. The most striking thing about her though, was the sadness I saw in those blue eyes. While she was smiling a little, it didn’t reach them. It made my heart ache a bit, and the urge I felt to wrap her in my arms was surprising. Comforting people was not my usual thing, especially a stranger, so instead I kept smiling. Hoping she would, too. It’d worked a little, at least until her order was called up. As she turned, her smile disappeared, replaced by a look of nervousness–or was that fear?
Had I been too creepy? I never meant to come off that way.
Then I noticed her wedding ring. It was no wonder she was uncomfortable. I’d taken a step back. Not that I had been crowding her, but I wanted to ease her tension, and let her know I wasn’t a creeper.
That’s when the racket started at the door–what sounded like a hell of an argument. I looked over to see what was going on, and knew instantly my day was about to take a turn for the worst. Guys with masks and guns never make for a good day.
Who robs a Starbucks, and why the fuck would you need that much ammo to do it?
Without realizing it, my next thought was of Ellie.
She’s someone’s wife. If she were mine, I’d want someone to protect her for me.
So, that’s what I’m doing. I could tell she
wanted to fuss at me when I pinned her to the counter, but once she saw what was going on, she thought better of it. I know I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to get the two of us out of this alive. There’s only two other outcomes besides that, wounded or dead.
I don’t like either of those.
The gunmen have been silent since the door closed behind them, but the obvious leader–Thing One, my shocked mind dubs him–clears his throat.
As if he didn’t have our attention already.
“Me and my friend here have some business with Marcus,” he says, pointing at the cashier behind Ellie. “While I speak with him, my buddy is gonna come around and visit with y’all. You’re gonna be real still for him, and give him anything you got–money, jewelry, phones. If you give him any trouble he’s got my permission to shoot you. I’m gonna be watching from the back. Don’t be getting any smart ideas,” he threatens, as he makes his way behind the counter.
Thing Two gets a case of the giggles as Thing One grabs Marcus by the back of the shirt, shoving one of the guns into the base of his skull, while marching him towards the back of the store.
“Keep your shit together idiot and do your job! You’ll be the one getting shot if you don’t,” Thing One yells at him before disappearing with poor Marcus.
What that kid could have done to have these two after him, I can’t imagine.
“You all heard him! Time to pay up!” Thing Two shouts, rushing at the customer to his left. “You first, old man.”
I’m not sure whether I should be glad he starts that way or not. If he keeps going left, we’ll be his last targets. I don’t know if that’s good or bad for us, but we’ll find out how it’s gonna go soon enough.
Speaking of us, Ellie’s pulling on the side of my shirt, and her breathing is getting erratic. Never taking my eyes off Thing Two, I very slowly take a small step forward allowing her to turn around and move to my side. I stop her with my left hand on her hip before she goes too far. I’m gonna keep her behind me as much as I can.
Save Me Page 1
