Chasing Fireflies
Paige P. Horne
Dedication: To all those who suffer in silence. You matter.
A note from the author:
Depression is not something to take lightly. If you or someone you know is suffering with this illness, please reach out and call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. Also, you can text the Crisis Text Line if you need someone to talk to in a non-life-threatening crisis by texting START to 741-741. Never lose your hope. People often don’t understand suicide, and I’ve heard it being called selfish. I have mixed feelings with it now after all the research I’ve done. Two people close to me chose to take their own life, and at first I was angry and of course hurt, but I now realize they were hurting deeper than people without depression can fully understand.
Table of Contents
Chasing Fireflies
Copyright © 2016 Paige P. Horne
Dedication: To all those who suffer in silence. You matter.
A note from the author:
Prologue
Chapter One
Our Wedding Day. Eight Years Earlier.
Chapter Two
Five Year Anniversary
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Six Year Anniversary
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Seven Year Anniversary
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Five Years Later
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Acknowledgements
Copyright © 2016 Paige P. Horne
All rights reserved.
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Publisher’s Notes:
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronical, mechanical, or photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published: Paige P. Horne 2016
[email protected]
Editor: Paige Maroney Smith
Cover design: [email protected]
Proofreaders: Crystal Jones, Monica Lewis, Julie T.
Prologue
Present Day
Cash
I lift my head off of the steering wheel and look out my windshield. My mind is foggy, and I can’t seem to wrap my brain around reality. Rain falls heavy outside and beats against the old truck’s metal roof. We’ve lived in this town for eight years now, and somehow it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I wipe my eyes and open Old Blue’s door. I’d like to say I’ve never been here before, but that’s a lie I can’t tell. I step out onto ground I’ve stepped onto more times than I can count, but for better reasons. I’m losing my mind, and I’ve lost my crazy heart. The rain soaks me, but like the inside, my outside is numb, too. Music flows through the opened door of the small-town bar, and like a zombie, I walk inside. Sweet guitar strings are strummed, but all I hear is the ringing in my ears. I take a seat on the barstool as Banner walks over.
“Heavy rain tonight,” he says, sliding a napkin in front of me. I look at the napkin and then up at his face.
“Jack––straight up.”
He narrows his eyes, but doesn’t question me. I watch him as he reaches up to grab a shot glass. Looking down at my hands, I run a finger over the dried blood that covers my palm. Water drops from the tip of my baseball hat, and my eyes shut for a brief moment. Memories flood my mind––blonde curls and baby blue eyes. Painful moments and a lifetime of struggles, but I’d do it all again. I open my eyes and grab the glass in front of me. I toss back the burning liquid and try not to choke on the sadness that threatens to take my life away.
I put the glass down and look up when Banner asks, “Another?” I nod and my hand shakes as I bring it to my greedy mouth. “You okay, Cash? Can I get you anything else?” His concern slips between his lips, and my whole body starts to shake. I look up from my shot glass.
“Stolen time,” I whisper as my eyes cast downward, and my heart falters.
Chapter One
Our Wedding Day. Eight Years Earlier.
Cash
I lean against the hotel bedroom door and watch as she looks at herself in the mirror. Her eyes meet mine, and I see it when her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.
“You’re perfect.”
“You’re only saying that because I married you.”
“I’m saying that because it’s true,” I say, shutting the door behind me. I set the bucket of ice down and walk over to her. She’s in a cream-colored lace dress and has a flower in her wild curly hair. We just tied the knot. We dated throughout high school, and four years after graduation, I finally asked her to be mine for life. She agreed, and after a long engagement, we took a trip to the courthouse. With only a few people to witness, we promised each other forever. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I kiss her dirty blonde curls and she rocks us from side to side.
“Why can’t I be happy all the time?” she whispers to me, like it’s a secret. But in a way, it is. Sometimes it’s hard for the girl I love to get out of bed, and there are times that she only does it for me. But there are also times when I’m not even enough to fight the darkness away.
I kiss her again and tell her once more, “You’re perfect. You’re enough. You’re mine.” She gives me her smile, and I turn her around to face me. I look into her pretty blue eyes and see my soul. It reflects within her and I think, how lucky am I to find someone like this? I see how much she loves me through her eyes, and I hope she can see it through mine, too.
I kiss her lips, and she removes my blazer. Our sweet love turns into needy love, and I lift her up and place her onto the dresser, knocking over the bucket of ice I got only minutes before. We ignore it, and I grip onto her thighs as she runs her fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair, causing chills to cover my body as I kiss her crazy. I lift her dress
, and she undoes my belt and pants. Within minutes, I’m where I want to be, and she’s closing her eyes. I move and she wraps her thighs around my waist tighter as I lay her down onto the bed. My wife’s hands go to the pillows above us, and she grips tight as I show her how much I love her. I tell her, too, as I kiss down her neck and grip onto her hips. Pulling her closer to me and pushing down deeper, I make us whole, and she makes my world brighter. I kiss her again, and when I pull away, wild love tells me how happy I make her. Time gives you the kind of love we have, and I pray for more of it every day as I watch her come undone underneath me.
Chapter Two
Five Year Anniversary
Cash
“This house is everything!” my wife yells as she twirls around on the front porch. I watch her with absolute amazement.
“Be careful, baby. Some of these boards don’t look so great,” I say. She giggles and runs inside. I adjust the box in my hand and follow, shaking my head at my crazy wife. The sound of her running bounces off the old walls of the big farmhouse, and I set the box down by the front door. Taking a look around, I can’t help but smile. We’re finally here. The house has been around since the twenties, and the field that surrounds it used to be alive––nothing but dead wheat grass now and a bur oak tree that’s seen many years before us, but she doesn’t care and neither do I. After years of saving up and months of looking, we finally found a place. We went to the bank, put down everything we had, and got a loan big enough so we could have extra to fix her up. I hear the creaky springs of our used mattress, and I make my way up the stairs.
Her laugh is the only sound I want to follow, and I smile when I see her jumping on our bed. She falls on her back, and I lean against the doorway, watching her.
“Cash, I’m so happy.” She turns to look at me and smiles. Her eyes sparkle with light as the sun shines through the windows of our bedroom, making her hair look golden blonde.
“You are?”
“Yes.”
I push off the wall and walk over to her. “How happy?” I ask, looking down at her spread-out curls. She stretches her arms wide, showing me how much. She closes her eyes, and at the same time, I lean down quickly, tickling her crazy until she can’t breathe and complains her ribs ache. I kiss them better, and my hand crawls up her skirt. She lets me do what I want and I do. I take her face in my hands and kiss her mouth. She tugs my shirt loose from my pants and pulls it up and over my head. My lips touch her neck and make their way down to her collarbone. She breathes heavy and reaches for my belt. After she slides it through the loops, she tosses it and unbuttons my pants. I tug them down and hike her summertime dress up. My fingers dig into her thighs, and within seconds I’m inside her. Pushing and pulling. Taking and giving. She’s everything to me, and I’m her fucking lifeline.
*
The moving crew finished bringing everything in earlier this afternoon, so we sit at the kitchen table eating cold ham sandwiches with salt and vinegar potato chips for supper because we didn’t feel like going grocery shopping just yet. The countertops are filled with stacked dishes and glasses that need to be put away still, and the rest of the house is equally a mess, but there’s plenty of time to get to it.
“The lights get cut on tomorrow,” I tell her as she strikes a match and holds it to the candlewick.
“I like it better this way.” She smiles and the fifty candles in the small room reflect off of her pretty face. She sits and I jump up, remembering it’s not only move-in day but also our anniversary.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I’ll be right back.” I grab the bouquet of roses out of the small closet in the living room I bought for her earlier today and hide them behind my back. She narrows her eyes at me when I walk back in.
“What you got back there?”
I walk over to her and lay the flowers down onto the table. She smiles and I grab her chair after I sit and bring it and her closer to me. I look at her face and down at her lips.
“Happy anniversary, baby.” I kiss her lips, and she grabs the flowers and brings them to her face.
“They smell pretty.”
“They smell pretty?” I ask. “How does something smell pretty?”
She shrugs. “They just do.”
“You smell pretty.” I grin.
We eat in silence until we hear a squeaking noise. Our eyes lock. Hers are filled with wonder and slight fear. Mine are filled with dread.
“Mice,” I say.
“We have to get some traps. But don’t you let me see one on there.” She puts a chip into her mouth and nearly spits it out when a mouse runs across the floor. “Holy shit.” She coughs and pulls her feet up. I pat her back.
“You aren’t scared of a little mouse, are you?”
“Yes! It might get my toes.”
I lean down and kiss her big toe. “Nothing is going to get your toes, woman.” I’m given another giggle, but she keeps her feet up for the rest of supper.
*
I sit on our bed and look out the bare windows in our bedroom. The moon shines through leaving a trail of light across our wooden floors, and I can see the tree outside shift from the wind.
“I’ll go into town tomorrow and get some traps. You want to ride with me?” I ask, still looking out the window. Hearing no answer, I turn as she walks out of the bathroom, mindlessly rubbing lotion on her hands.
“Sara,” I say, getting her attention. She looks up, and I can see it. That blank stare––that I’m-fading-into-a-different-mindset look in her soft blue eyes. The mattress dips when she sits down, and I run my finger over her hand. “Baby, I’m going into town tomorrow. Come with me.”
“I may not feel up to it.” She lifts her feet from the floor and lies down. I rub my face and look over at her as she grabs the covers and pulls them up to her chin. I look back down at the moonlight and wonder if the covers make her feel safe or if it’s something more. Getting up, I lean down and blow the candles out. I remove my T-shirt and lift the covers to get into bed. Lying down, I grab her by her waist and pull her to my side. Wrapping my arms around her, I put my face into her neck and breathe her in. I don’t want the damn covers to make her feel safe. I want to make her feel that way.
“You’ll feel better tomorrow,” I murmur against her soft skin.
“We’ll see,” she says.
“Yeah,” I agree quietly. “I’ll love you forever.”
“Forever is such a long time,” she replies. “You’ll get tired of me.”
“Never,” I say. She sighs and I don’t fall asleep until I feel her breathing even out.
*
The old truck my dad shockingly handed down to me years ago backfires and Sara thinks it’s funny today. We call him Old Blue, and that’s exactly what he is—old and blue. He’s a smelly 1971 Ford, makes a funny noise when you press the gas, and the heat doesn’t work, but he’s ours. Old Blue is paid for and gets us where we need to go. Sara laughs when I hit the gas pedal, and he makes a loud popping sound, but then she gets mad because the rusted floorboard is hot against her bare feet.
“You should put your sandals back on,” I tell her.
“I don’t like shoes,” she says. I roll my eyes.
“I saw that.” She smacks my arm, and I try not to smile.
“You complain too much,” I say, looking over at her piled-up curls. She wears a short summer dress that says something about Woodstock, peace, and love.
“Oh, yeah?” She lifts her brow and pokes her lips out at me.
“Absolutely,” I confirm. She lifts her feet and slides across the bench seat, moving closer.
“What are you doing?” I ask as she leans into the crook of my neck, and I feel her sweet breath against my skin.
“Nothing,” she whispers into my ear before I feel her tongue running along the side. I move my head away. “I don’t think so.” She puts her hand on the other side of my face and presses it closer to her. She spreads kisses down to my collarbone and laugh
s lightly.
“Sara,” I breathe out because her other hand is rubbing at the crotch of my jeans. She sucks on my skin and lets out a noise that goes straight to my hardness. “Baby,” I say as she keeps kissing and sucking. My eyes grow lazy, and my foot gets heavy on the gas. I don’t even notice that we pass by a cop, but I do when I see blue lights. “Shit. Baby, get back to your side.” She laughs as she hurries to her side of the truck. I pull over and wait for the cop to get out. She stifles a laugh as he makes it up to the door, and I shake my head at her as she puts her hand over her mouth and clears her throat. Her eyes look down at my jeans, and I adjust myself before I look over when the cop taps on the glass, signaling for me to roll the window down. It takes a minute because the damn handle needs some grease.
I clear my throat. “How can I help you, officer?”
“Son, do you know you were speeding back there?”
“I didn’t realize it,” I answer. He looks over at my wife, and I see his eyes move downward. I look over, too. Her dress is riding up from where she moved so quickly. She notices and tugs it down. She sucks her lips in, and her cheeks turn pink. Looking back at the cop, I see he is the chief.
“Okay, you two. How about we pay better attention to driving when we are on the road and less on…” He clears his throat. “Less on each other.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
“You folks have a nice day.” He tilts his hat, and as he turns to walk away, I get an idea.
“Hey, chief,” I say, sticking my head out the window and looking back at him.
“Yes, son?”
“You doing any hiring?”
He looks me over for a moment and then asks, “You got any experience?”
“Worked under my dad one town over since I was sixteen,” I say. “He’s been the sheriff for going on thirty years.”
He nods in approval. “Well, you come on down to the office tomorrow then. We’ll see what we can do.”
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