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Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2)

Page 14

by Cherry Shephard


  “Keets!”

  I look up sharply as the woman who haunts my dreams drops to the ground beside me. Blinking back the rain from my eyes, I take my glasses off to see her better. “Don’t do this,” she begs, grabbing the photo of Liz from the ground and shoving it in front of my face, forcing me to look at it. “Do you really think this is what Liz wants? For you to die?”

  I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut against the truth. “You didn’t know her,” I grind out. “You have no idea what she would have wanted.”

  “Keets, this is fucking ridiculous. You can’t end your life over something that wasn’t even your fault.”

  “You weren’t there,” I explode, glaring up at her. “It was my fault, don’t you get it? I could have saved her and I fucking didn’t. I ran out and I left her there to die.”

  “You did what you had to do to survive.”

  “No, I didn’t. I could have saved her, I should have saved her. Did you know she was pregnant?” I laugh bitterly at the shocked look on Natalie’s beautiful face. Oh my sweet, innocent girl, you’re finally beginning to understand that I’m beyond rescuing. “She was,” I nod. “She was fucking pregnant with my kid, and I just ran away when they both needed me. I can see the disgust on your face, Natalie. You can try to hide it all you like, but we both know that what I did was so totally fucked up, so completely unforgiveable that I deserve to be the one that’s dead.”

  “Would you really disgrace my daughter’s name in that way?” a soft voice asks. I gasp out loud as I look up to see a face I haven’t seen in fourteen long years.

  “How-”

  “Shannon called her,” Natalie explained, touching my arm gently. “I know this is difficult for you, so I’ll leave you guys alone to talk. I promise though, I’m not going to be far away.”

  I watch her as she walks away, my mind in a tailspin. Have my friends really just gone to so much effort for me? I don’t understand, I thought for sure that when they found out I’d abandoned Liz that they’d hightail it out of here as fast as their legs could carry them. Shaking my head, I glance up as the elderly woman struggles to take a seat on the ground next to me, in the rain. Tormented by the memories that are flashing through my mind at warp speed, I don’t bother to help her, or move out of the wet weather. I guess I really am that much of a bastard. “What are you doing here, Bethy?” I ask, watching warily as rain pelts the top of the eighty year old woman. A twinge of guilt tugs at my heart but I force it back down. She chose to be out here in this weather, I never asked her to come.

  “Shannon called me,” Liz’s mom explains in a croaky voice.

  Is she sick? Stupid, stupid woman for being here if she is. She’s likely to get pneumonia. “So what?” I ask, probably sounding a lot harsher than I mean to.

  “So I want to know, why are you disgracing my daughter?”

  “Listen, lady,” I say hotly, feeling my temper rise. “I’m not disgracing anyone.”

  “But you are,” she says softly. “I know about the letter you wrote. She told you to live.”

  “So what?”

  “Tell me then,” Bethy says, placing a hand on my arm. “Why would she tell you to live, if she wanted you to die?”

  Her words worm their way inside my cold heart and my eyes snap open, staring at her in wonder. “What did you say?”

  “Do you remember my sweet George?” she asks, leaning back against the wall and changing the subject.

  “Of course I do, he’s a fine man.”

  Bethy nods. “He was,” she says, and I detect the sadness in her voice straight away.

  “You mean…?”

  “Last year,” she says, nodding again and closing her eyes against the sting of the rain. “My sweet Georgie left me last year.”

  A lump rises in my throat, and I force myself to swallow it down. Liz’s father had always been such a pleasure to be around, always the life of the party with a terrible joke. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to get out. “May I ask how he died?”

  “Prostate cancer,” Bethy sighs, not opening her eyes. “He suffered terribly, but in the end there was only peace. He was able to join our daughter in the Promised Land, with his family and friends by his bedside until the end.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say again, helpless in this moment of shared grief. What do you say to a woman who has lost her best friend and lover?

  “You know,” she continues, finally opening her eyes and looking at me. “When he died, I felt like I was falling in this dark hole. I was so depressed all the time, I thought I could never recover from the loss.”

  I nod, but I don’t say anything. I know all too well how that feels.

  “It got so bad, that I didn’t think I could go on without him. I mean, how was I meant to just get over the loss of my husband? So, one night over Christmas, I sat in bed and I swallowed thirty sleeping tablets.”

  I blanch and stare at her, my mouth hanging open. “You what?”

  “I did,” she nods. “I was so riddled with guilt that a man with such vibrancy and life was dead, and I was left to survive without him. I didn’t believe I deserved to live.”

  “So what happened?” I ask, licking my lips.

  “Oh I was found by Elizabeth’s brother, he was staying with me for the holidays. He managed to call an ambulance and they pumped my stomach. I was told I was extremely lucky to be alive. But you know what? I didn’t feel so lucky.”

  “So you know how I feel then, and why I have to do this.”

  “More than you know,” she says affectionately, patting my hand. “But do you know what I found most interesting? I realized that I didn’t want to die after all.”

  “Well what changed you mind?” I ask her, sitting up a little straighter.

  “George did,” she gives me a soft smile and then looks out into the distance, as though recalling a long forgotten memory. “He came to me in a dream, right when I considered trying to end it all again.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said,” she pauses as her eyes mist over, and she digs in her pocket for a handkerchief, delicately dabbing the spot below her eyes. It’s stopped raining by now, and the sun peeks out from behind a dark cloud, shining a ray of light onto the memorial, and it’s like a bolt of warmth straight to my broken heart.

  “He told me to live,” Bethy finishes, and I turn my head to gape at her. “What?” I gasp, not quite sure I heard her correctly.

  “He told her to live, just like you need to live, Keets,” Natalie says, joining us once more as she kneels down in front of me. “You need to live for her. You need to live for your child. But most importantly, you need to live for yourself.”

  “I don’t think I know how,” I say brokenly.

  “Then we can all learn together,” Bethy tells me, and it’s like a flower of hope blooming inside me. Is it possible? Am I really ready for this? I look down at Liz’s photo, but for the first time in fourteen years I don’t feel the same sense of urgency to pay her back for saving my life. Instead, I feel a warmth as it spreads throughout my veins, thawing my frozen heart. Is this what she meant by living?

  Glancing up at the woman in front of me, I feel like I’m finally seeing her for the first time. This kind, generous, loving woman, who travelled through the night to be by my side in my moment of greatest need. Bethy takes out hands and reach them out toward one another, and Nat grasps my hand tightly, her eyes promising to never let me go.

  NATALIE

  Six months later…

  “It’s good to have you back,” Stone says to Keets as he raises his beer in a toast. “You had us all worried for a while.”

  “I was worried myself,” Keets replies, hugging me close to his side. “But this beautiful woman right here sure knows how to talk down a hostile situation.” He drops a kiss on my hair and I beam with happiness.

  It’s been six months since Keets returned to Ground Zero, and though the time has been anything but easy, he’s out of the hospital and on the
antidepressant medication he clearly needs.

  “What the hell?” Stone growls, souring the mood of the group as he looks toward the other end of the bar. We all turn our heads as we see Bullet handing a small package to a man under a table. “That son of a bitch. I knew he was trouble.”

  “Stone,” Shannon starts, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You don’t know what that package is. It could be anything.”

  Stone scoffs but says nothing, his eyes trained on Bullet as he stands and walks out the door of the bar, not looking at us. “I know he can’t be trusted. He betrayed us,” he says darkly. “One way or another, I’m going to fucking prove it.”

  “Natalie?” a voice behind me says. I turn and the smile is wiped from my face. “Luke?” I gasp. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Nat, what is he doing here?” Keets asks, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. Luke’s eyes widen as they rest on my large baby belly, and Keets rubs his hand across the bump, clearly asserting his dominance.

  “I’m afraid I’m here on business,” Luke says, his tone clipped and short as he hands me a large white envelope. “You’ve been served.”

  “Served? For what? Natalie, who is he?” Keets demands.

  I turn back to the table as Luke walks away and rip open the envelope, my hands shaking as I pull out the papers. “What does it say?” Keets asks impatiently as I scan the letter, feeling the blood rush through my ears like a freight train.

  Dropping the paper, I look up at Shannon with tears in my eyes. “It says that an order was made on my behalf when I missed my court date. Troy is to take full custody of my baby from the moment it’s born,” I cry.

  “What?” Keets bellows. “Over my dead fucking body.”

  “Over our dead bodies,” Stone says, his voice like thunder as Shannon hugs me tightly. “We’ll get him, Nat, don’t you worry. He’ll never lay a hand on your baby.”

  “Our baby,” Keets says vehemently, surprising everyone as he turns to me. He places a lone finger under my chin and turns my terrified eyes his way before planting a long kiss on my lips. “You’re mine babe, and if you’re mine, you better believe I’m claiming that baby in your belly as mine, too.”

  “That’s right,” Shannon agrees, her face pulled tight in anger. “Troy hurt me and Daddy for far too long, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him hurt you, too.”

  “We’re here for you,” Zeke adds, a comforting smile on his face as he sips his Coke through a straw. “We’re going to get the bastard.”

  “Zeke, watch your fucking language,” Stone scolds. Shannon just rolls her eyes and holds onto me tighter, my past mistakes forgotten as we unite against a common enemy. Pulling back from my sister, I burst into tears. “We have another problem,” I cry.

  “What’s that?” Stone asks.

  “My waters just broke.”

  Hopelessness closes in on me and I fight to pull myself back up. I can’t afford to lose it now; I have the fight of my life on my hands. If Troy thinks he’s ever getting his hands on my child after what he did to my family, he’s got another thing coming. He is going to be surprised when he realizes what a grave mistake he’s made. I have the best people in the world on my side. Nothing can stop me now.

  Our fight is just beginning, and we’ll either win or go down together in a blaze of glory.

  Broken

  Blaze of glory #3

  Coming soon

  About The Author

  Cherry Shephard writes beautifully tragic romances, that focus on broken alpha men and their strong leading ladies. Ultimately, they are stories of love, loss and redemption.

  Cherry lives in Australia with Mr S, her three children and a zoo of animals. When not writing, Cherry loves watching horror movies.

  Cherry loves to chat with her readers. You can join her Devil’s group by following the link below:

  http://www.facebook.com/groups/CherrysGroupies

  acknowledgments

  Cherry Shephard wishes to thank the following people…

  Kristen Scearce, for once again doing an amazing editing job.

  Kristina Hernandez, for all your helpful insight.

  Sara Eirew, for yet another beautiful cover.

  Darren Birks, for being so sexy and portraying my perfect Keets.

  Fiona Wilson, for your beautiful formatting.

  Mischelly Velasquez, for being my bitch.

  Darlene Tallman, Samantha Bainrot and Karen Mandeville-Steer, for being the best beta readers I could ever ask for.

  River Savage, for entertaining me at 3am when we should both be writing.

  My Devils, you’re a bunch of hornbags, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.

  Mr S, for inspiring Candie Shizhole: the DVD

  My kids, for ALWAYS supporting me, even when I’m driving you nuts and burning dinner.

 

 

 


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