Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “Hey, trouble.” He leaned over, picking her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around him in a hug.

  “It’s my movie choice tonight.” She bounced in his arms excitedly.

  “Yes, I know,” Dad replied, giving me a look.

  “Do you want to know what I picked?”

  “Does it have princesses in it?”

  My sister’s short ponytail bobbed in a yes. “And fairies!”

  “Oh goodie.” His sarcasm floated over her to us.

  “Lucky you,” I mouthed to my mom, getting up from the stool. “So jealous.”

  She shoved the salad bowl at me with a mocking sneer. “Set the table, ungrateful child.”

  “Someone’s bitter.”

  “Go away.”

  My lightened mood quickly dissipated as I changed clothes, the old and new me battling for dominance. I loved my family, my parents were cool, and we got along great. I appreciated how lucky I was. Still, there was a part of me I had to hide from them. The good, teasing, happy, carefree girl was acceptable. The dark, angry, troubled girl was not.

  At nine thirty, Savannah finally pulled up, honking her horn.

  “Bye.” I grabbed my jacket.

  “Take me with you,” Dad whispered hoarsely to me as chipper music played from the TV. My sister lay on her belly on the rug, singing along. “Or send more provisions.”

  “Have fun.” I winked and laughed, heading out the door. I moved toward Savannah’s Mini Cooper. Her family wasn’t extremely wealthy, like Jason’s or Colton’s, but they still spoiled her. She had an older brother, who had left home several years ago, so they treated her like an only child.

  Pop music filled the tiny car, almost deafening me. “Hey,” she sang, her eyes roaming over me. “You’re wearing that?”

  “Yeah, why?” I looked down at my dark skinny jeans, simple black top, and brown lace-up boots. She had on leather pants, a low-cut red top, and black heeled boots. Her hair was ironed straight, her eyes smoky.

  “Oh no, it’s fine,” she chirped and put the car in drive. My knuckles went white, gripping the handle as she tore down my street.

  The music kept us from having to converse, but any gap in the song she filled with her dilemmas. “Seriously, I don’t know what to do. The college guy from the party last weekend keeps calling me.”

  “Tell him you have a boyfriend.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. It was not the answer she was looking for. “I mean, he’s really hot and an extremely good kisser, but it’s, like, stop stalking me.”

  I focused on the outlines of the houses zipping by the car.

  “Jason is being kind of needy also. So who knows? I might dump them both and go find myself a real man.” She giggled naughtily. “You should have gone last weekend. The party was awesome. So many guys.”

  She turned up the road to Jason’s house. My nails dug painfully into the armrest. The car curved around the windy corners.

  I gasped for breath. Savannah didn’t notice my panic and sang along with the music. All I could hear was screaming. My screaming. Twisting metal. Crunching of bones. Sirens. Flashes of red and blue. Voices.

  She whipped the car around the mountain at full speed.

  “Stop,” I whispered, my voice not able to find itself.

  She didn’t hear me.

  “Please stop.”

  The Mini Cooper rounded the corner, passing the turn where we had gone off the road. Strands of caution tape were still tangled in the branches. Air barely twisted through my ragged lungs.

  “Uh, I hate this road,” she complained.

  Part of me wanted to laugh; the other wanted to cry. She hated this road? Did she not appreciate the significance of it to me? The fact I hadn’t been here since the accident? What it must be like for me? Did she perceive anything but herself? The beast of anger rolled up my esophagus, wanting to lash out. Her shallowness never bothered me much before. I merely accepted it. This made me only see how shallow I had been.

  Were we friends? Not really. We never talked or shared anything substantial. I wouldn’t trust her with my secrets, which should have told me enough.

  She pulled the car up to McKee’s huge house. Music was pumping; kids milled around. It was exactly like every other Friday here. Nothing changed. Everything and everyone was the same.

  Except me. I wanted nothing more than to go home.

  Savannah jumped out of the car. I climbed out slowly and stood there, trembling. Her heels clicked up the path. Then she finally noticed I wasn’t beside her and looked back at me. “Come on.”

  My head moved back and forth. “I need a minute.”

  She frowned with confusion. “What? Why?”

  “I need a moment.”

  “I don’t want to walk in by myself.” She folded her arms. Irritated.

  Are you kidding me? She walked into the house all the time. However, because it was a party, she didn’t want to look stupid, coming by herself. Was that all I was to her? A body to stand next to her so she didn’t look like she was alone?

  I slammed the door, but instead of following her up the path, I turned the opposite way.

  “Jaymerson,” she yelled. “Where are you going?”

  I continued to walk.

  “Fine! Nice friend you are.” Her shouts fell on deaf ears. She knew everyone there. She would find a replacement for me the instant she walked into the house.

  My feet kept moving down the drive. Facing your fears was one thing but coming back here? It was too soon. The night of the accident was still too vivid. At least, the party was. My brain had trouble with the moments after we got in the car. Bits and pieces came to me in staggering detail, the time on the clock, the reflection of headlights in Colton’s terrified eyes, the weightless sensation in the air. Other moments, the bigger ones, were water through my fingers—an impression, an echoing of sound, flashes of light, the taste of copper in my mouth.

  It was stupid to continue. There were no streetlamps or sidewalks, but I couldn’t stop. The spot didn’t merely call me; it impelled me. A few cars passed, heading to Jason’s. I knew I must have looked freaky. Like a ghost haunting the road, I prowled the area where I almost died. Maybe a part of me had.

  Distant music from Jason’s house rolled over the hill and floated in the air. Clouds drifted across the moon, dimming the already dark lane, but nothing seemed to stop me. My eyes adjusted enough, spotting bits of Colton’s prized SUV memorialized all over the asphalt. Chunks of glass and plastic from the car’s collision sprinkled the road like ashes. Caution tape still boxed in the scene like a gravestone. A string of it went from a tree near the top all the way down the steep ravine. The car was long gone, but brush and small trees bent or torn from their roots showed the SUV’s path where it flipped and rolled, until we slammed into a huge oak tree.

  My arms tucked in around me, protecting me from the panic and sadness jumping around inside. Tears still did not come.

  Colton.

  I gasped for breath, not realizing I had stopped. But the more air I tugged in the more I seemed to need. I clutched at my chest, bending over. The sound of crickets and faraway music fused, sounding sharp then drowning under the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.

  “Colton!” A guttural scream tore from my throat, raw with agony. I couldn’t stop saying his name, hoping my pain would be powerful enough to bring him back.

  A surge of hip-hop music came down the road from the house like nothing had happened.

  Suddenly my sadness shifted, crawled up my back and around my throat, and coated my chest with burning rage. All I’d been hearing about was what a terrible accident it had been. What a loss to our community. No one talked about the fact he had been drinking. They didn’t want to think their prince was flawed, that he would do something so foolish. The thought of losing the state champion captain to drunk driving was not possible.

  Carrie and Dan said they weren’t aware he had been drinking. That they made sure all the kids stayed at t
heir place if they did. What a lie. Fury at them, at the party going on behind me, the kids still drinking and driving because they thought it could never happen to them. And Carrie and Dan continued to let them.

  “You stupid idiots!” I bellowed into the cool night air. “You’re supposed to be the adults. The responsible ones.” Bitter fury scalded my lips. I flung my arms around, anger building in my muscles. “And why did I let you? Why didn’t I speak up and say no?” I picked up a rock and threw it at the yellow tape. “Because I didn’t want you upset. To start another fight. I hate I wasn’t strong enough not to be afraid to piss you off.”

  Wrath at my weakness, at Carrie and Dan, at Hunter, and Colton’s stupid decision rocked through me. “If I did, would you have left me? If I continued to not have sex, would you have dumped me again?” I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. Rage tore thoughts from my head and spewed them at the dark hole at the bottom of the basin.

  Somewhere in my mind I was aware of the light flooding the right side of my face, but it was part of another dream, another realm my body was in. I continued to scream at Colton, my voice going raw.

  “Jaymerson?” The shadowy outline of a body leaped from a car. I ignored the person, too lost in my fury.

  Air fought to get into my lungs. They were riddled with pain. And anger. Anger at him for leaving me. Making me see the world harshly. To see and feel nothing but darkness. For missing him so much. For dying.

  And because I lived.

  I bent over, scooping a handful of gravel and bits of his car. “Fuck you, Colton! You stupid, thoughtless moron!” I bellowed, chucking it down the ravine, warm tears trickled down my cheeks. “Why couldn’t you have lived?”

  “Jaymerson. Stop.”

  I grabbed at more pieces of his car’s broken headlights, hurling them down with the other ones.

  “You told me to relax. I was being too uptight. I’m fine. I had, like, two. Well, who was right, huh? Are you fine now? No. You are dead.” I gasped for air. “You left me.” My throat shredded with my rage. “I hate you.” I knew I didn’t, but I was so angry, so hurt. Blaming him seemed to be the only way air would get back into my lungs, allowing me to breathe.

  “Jaymerson, stop.” A hand grabbed my arm, finally snapping my attention to the person next to me.

  I looked up into Colton’s face. It was as if my anger and pain brought him back from the dead. I wanted to believe it could happen. He could come back to me. I needed to allow myself the fantasy, even for a moment.

  But I couldn’t.

  And the harsh truth, crumbled me. I fell against Hunter’s chest, leaning against him like I had no bones left in my body. It went against everything I felt about Colton’s brother, but right then I didn’t care.

  He stiffened, but when I didn’t move away he put his arms around me, holding me securely to his chest.

  “Why did he have to die?” I whispered against his shirt. He was warm and solid.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I let him. I didn’t stop him.” I sniffed into his t-shirt. “Why didn’t I stop him? He could be alive right now.”

  “I think that every day.”

  “He left me.”

  “He left me too.”

  “I feel so alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” he said softly I almost didn’t hear him.

  I crushed my lids together briefly, allowing another moment of feeling like I wasn’t drowning, before I pushed him away. Hunter’s arms dropped, we both stood there. My tears left a trail across his T-shirt.

  The outside world came hurtling back to me, causing me to be extremely aware we were not alone. I glanced over Hunter’s shoulder. His friend Doug was in the driver’s seat, watching us. No need to ask how they found me. Doug must have been taking him home.

  Chagrin warmed my cheeks; he had witnessed my breakdown. For some reason, Hunter seeing me didn’t bother me, but Doug did.

  “Uh. Thank you,” I mumbled, wiping my eyes. My feet took a few steps backward. The last thing I wanted to do was go back to Jason’s, but I wanted to get away. From Hunter. From Doug.

  From myself.

  “I better get back.”

  Hunter’s lips turned down, looking over the hill to where the McKee’s residence was. A hard-thumping base danced in the air. “Do you want a ride home?”

  My first reaction was to say no, to get far away from him. But the idea of spending the rest of the evening following Savannah around, pretending to have fun, sounded like absolute torture. To have Carrie squeeze my hand while Dan gave me some cheesy platitude. Tonight I would scream at them, letting them know how I felt. It was partly their fault, and they were allowing it to happen again. Even Colton’s death didn’t stop them from wanting to be cool instead of responsible parents.

  I shoved my hands into my coat pocket, staring over at the Pontiac. “Actually. Yes.”

  Hunter nodded and turned toward the car. His limp was severe without his crutches. I trailed after him, reaching the car in time to hear Hunter mutter something to Doug.

  “Yeah, sure, man.” Doug nodded, giving me a smile.

  “Thank you. I appreciate this.” My fierce energy was now filled with awkward embarrassment. Hunter tilted the front seat forward to let me to crawl in. I dived in the back, settling into the corner.

  “No worries.” Doug glanced in the rearview mirror at me. “It’s Jaymerson, right?”

  “Yeah,” I responded.

  “So you are—”

  “Dougie?” Hunter cut him off, shaking his head, warning him to shut up. Doug smiled, closing his mouth. He cranked the wheel, pulling us back on the road. Hunter turned up the music. Pink Floyd erupted from the speakers, almost making me snort. It seemed to fit Dougie perfectly. I knew every song. It was one of my parents’ favorite bands.

  At the first driveway, he turned the car around and drove back down the hill, away from the McKee’s. I curved my body farther into the corner of the car, wanting to disappear. The night encased me as I stared out the window, lost in thought. Hunter’s presence was strangely calming. He sat leaning back in the front seat and didn’t ask me what I was doing on the dark strip of road. He seemed to understand.

  Doug hummed to the tunes, happy and content. A few times I caught myself smiling at his childlike contentment.

  I texted Savannah I got a ride home. I wanted to put I’m sorry after, but for once I was sick of being sorry. She would never apologize for doing something like this to me, so why was I always tiptoeing around her?

  Hunter knew the way to my house—he’d been in the car enough times when Colton came for me. Doug guided the car up to the front of my house. Hunter got out, bouncing on his stronger leg.

  “Be careful not to stress the ligaments in your leg. You don’t want to damage your muscle tissue.” I slipped from the backseat, pointing at the leg taking most of his weight.

  He grunted in response but gripped the door to ease off his favored leg.

  “Thank you, Doug.” I leaned over to look in the car.

  “Anytime, pretty one.” He winked at me. It wasn’t creepy, just his charm.

  I straightened and did not let my gaze land on Hunter. “Thanks,” I grumbled. “Bye.”

  “Bye,” he responded as curtly.

  I moved around him, and he got in the car and slammed the door. Walking up the path, I gave them a last glance. Doug smiled as he pulled the car away. Hunter didn’t look at me at all.

  We would probably never like each other. There was much resentment and animosity even before the accident. But our shared loss connected us. I hated he was the only one who understood me.

  No matter what I felt, I would be forever linked to Hunter Harris. And I wanted nothing more than to unlink us.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Steam from the casserole my mom made wafted in my face as I set it on the table. Dishes, cold and hot, covered the long surface running down the school’s auditorium.

  It should be illegal to
have to be at school on a Sunday evening. In only a little more than twelve hours we would be back, blurry eyed and wishing for Friday again.

  “Jaymerson, that goes down with the entrees.” Mom pointed at the area where she wanted me to move it. Since I had fallen short on my duties to organize the potluck, Mom made sure I was on the list for setup and break down.

  An auction was to be held after the dinner, where the wealthy people in town offered prizes for other wealthies to bid on. Why didn’t they hand the money straight over to Mr. and Mrs. Harris and call it a day? I took in a deep breath. They mean well. They mean well. They did, but I still felt this was being forced on me.

  “Jayme, Nancy arrived with the cupcakes. Be sure the dessert table is ready,” Mom called over her shoulder. As she walked through the open doors I could see Nancy’s white blazer at the curb.

  I was kept from heavy lifting or walking a lot due to doctor’s orders. Physical work would help me not to think, but I was more the mascot: fluffing napkins, rearranging dishes, stacking cups, standing at the table, looking pretty in my dress, showing how strong and amazing I was through this awful time. I felt anything but strong or amazing. I tucked these thoughts away, plastering a smile on my face.

  Savannah huffed, sighed, and looked anywhere but at me. She was doing her best to act as if she were mad for leaving her Friday night. It was all for show and wouldn’t last long. She could hold a serious grudge, but I could tell she wasn’t really angry. The moment she walked into the party she was probably surrounded by dozens of her “best” friends and barely noticed my absence. The more she observed I wasn’t responding with apologies or asking for forgiveness, her demeanor shifted toward me and she started to smile at me. Her ruffled feathers were falling back in place.

  I went over to the dessert table, fanning the napkins. Again. When two people entered the cafeteria, people all around moved toward them. My head jerked up to see what was going on.

  Mitch and Julia Harris walked through the door. He was in his mid-fifties; she was in her forties. Both impeccably dressed as always. Julia had the same dark hair and unnerving blue eyes her sons had. She was tall, lean, and elegant. Julia’s congenial demeanor always came off a bit fake, like she was playing a part. Mitch was mostly grey haired, which he kept short. He was tall like his boys and had hazel eyes.