The Space Before (The Space Between Heartbeats #0.5)

by Melissa Pearl

  "I think that one in the back is alive. I can see his eyes fluttering. Look!"

  I squinted into that flashlight beam like my life depended on it, which I guess it kind of did.

  Sirens. Yeah, I remember those.

  Then pain. Lots and lots of pain.

  I scratch my shoulder, running my finger over the neat scar left by the surgeon. My shoulder was dislocated pretty badly, and major repairs were needed. My fingers then go to my face, the way they always do when I relive the accident. It was a branch through my cheek. It had smashed through the window and straight into my face, ripping my cheek apart. The scar left behind would be a hideous reminder of what I'd survived.

  Some days I hate it, which is why I've grown my hair long. At least my reckless curls hide it a little. Some days, I tie my hair back, though, and stare into the mirror, studying the jagged line. It's a good reminder, I guess. I was the only one to survive that crash...and I will forever believe that my survival was God's doing.

  It's like a sword through the soul when I think about it. I can still see Luis' limp body smashed through the windshield, and I will never, ever get the sound of Toby's screaming out of my head. Those guys weren't good for me. I guess I knew it at the time, but they didn't deserve to die. I still miss them sometimes.

  I don't know what became of the rest of the people I used to see. My parents kind of put me into hiding after the accident, and none of my old friends tried to contact me. We moved from LA to Big Bear as soon as my rehab would allow me to. And even though it's only two hours away, I don't really have any desire to drive down and see them. I do sometimes wonder about Milo and Carly, what's become of them. I feel dizzy when I entertain the thought that Carly may have gotten pregnant. All I can pray is that she didn't. What a nightmare.

  And then there’s Jasmine.

  I don't think I'll ever be able to forget those people, as much as I sometimes want to.

  The weeks of rehab that followed made me wonder if God simply kept me breathing so he could punish me. And then there was the court case. The accident didn't get me out of that. Unfortunately, I was well enough to attend, and because I'd been found for the second time in a stolen vehicle, the judge was pretty pissed about it. I guess my injuries got me off with a warning, but the two misdemeanors are now permanently on record. I have a record. I hate that. If I ever slip up again, I'll be facing a much harsher punishment. I don't even want to know what it might be.

  Being saved came with a high price...but that's what I'd asked for, and all I can hope is that one day I’ll figure out the reason why. I've been trying to live a good life ever since, inspired by the fact I lived. I owe it to everyone who loves me to do a better job. I guess I really owe it to myself. Only a fool would slap a second chance in the face.

  But I sometimes wonder if there's more to my salvation...like maybe God kept me alive for a specific reason.

  I glance at the window and think about that stunning beauty with the lost expression in her eyes. I will never forget that feeling of desperation. It's like wandering in a desert without a compass. All you see is endless days of the same thing, and you have no idea how you're ever going to get out of it.

  Man, I want to help her. I want to show her there's another way.

  Picking up my pencil, I tap it on my textbook. I should be studying. Mom's homeschool routine leaves little room for movement. Some days it's suffocation city, but I put up with it. If I don't stay on top of my studies, I'll never get into a decent college. I want options. I want my future to be filled with positive options.

  I start drawing swirls on the bottom corner of my notepad. The swirl turns into an N and before I know it, I've written the name Nicole. I scribble it out with a huff. Who the hell am I kidding? Like she would ever give a guy like me a second look.

  I pause.

  But it's not about that.

  I mean, sure, she’s gorgeous and the idea of being with someone like her would be awesome, but that's not the only reason I can't get her out of my brain.

  It's that look in her eyes. I want to take it away.

  "And how the hell are you going to do that, Dale?" I scoff. "You spend most of your life locked in this house, you loser."

  Dropping the pencil, I flick it with my fingers, watching it roll to the edge of the pad and tumble off the end. It finally comes to a stop against a pile of fantasy novels I'm working my way through. I'm tempted to grab one and bury myself in a good story, the perfect escape from reality, but then Nicole scuttles through my brain again.

  God gave me a second chance at life. I promised myself I wouldn't waste it, and hiding in my room reading is hardly living life to the fullest.

  I should be dead, but I'm not.

  God kept me breathing for a reason, and I can't help wondering if Nicole is it.

  Reaching for the pencil, I write her name in bold letters across the notepad.

  "How's it coming, sweetie?" Mom's voice makes me jump a mile. She chuckles as she walks through the door, Jester, my black Labrador, at her heels. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." I flip my pad over and drop my pencil.

  Mom reaches me, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a rub. "You have that thoughtful look on your face. What's up?"

  I distract myself with Jester for a moment. He's muscled his way past Mom and is resting his head on my knee, expecting some attention. His black tail thumps happily on the ground as I scratch behind his ears. Mom doesn't usually let him up here during study time, and I know he'll be dragged out when she leaves. I rub his sleek coat with a smile. His tongue lolls to the side as he drops to his back, exposing his belly for me to scratch. I oblige with a grin then pat his stomach before sitting up straight.

  I clear my throat and tug on my T-shirt, a nervous habit I can’t seem to drop. "Mom." I lick my lips. "I think it's time for me to head back to school."

  Her eyebrows jump high. "What's brought this on?"

  I shrug and pick at the growing hole on the knee of my jeans. "I don't know. I just feel like it's time to stop hiding."

  Mom's silence makes me glance up.

  She looks nervous, nibbling the edge of her bottom lip. "I thought we agreed that you'd stay home until college."

  "I've got to face the world at some point. I think I'd rather do it when I have you guys around to support me." That's not my primary reason for making this decision, but it's still a good one.

  Mom doesn't look appeased. "We should talk to your dad first."

  I lean forward and rub her tense forearm. "Of course we will, but you guys can't sway me. I've made up my mind."

  She knows that's true and has a hard time hiding her disappointment.

  "It's okay, Mom. I can handle this." I reassure her.

  "But..." She sighs. "Dale, what if..."

  "I promised you and Dad I'd never go down that path again, and I won't. You can trust me now."

  She nods, obviously fighting off tears.

  I swallow, trying to think of something to make her feel better.

  With a wry chuckle, I shake my head. "You really don't have to worry. I doubt anyone's gonna want to hang with the scar-faced freak anyway."

  Her frown is sharp. "Don't you say that about my son. He's gorgeous."

  "To you, maybe," I mumble, suddenly wondering if my decision to throw myself into a high school environment is the right one. They'll have a field day with me. Am I strong enough to take it? Nicole pops into my brain, and I know I have no choice. "I've gotta do this, Mom. Please help me."

  I glance up to see her eyes have swamped with tears. She leans towards me with a shaky smile, her hand resting over the scar on my cheek. "You're a brave soul, Dale Finnigan, and you are becoming the most amazing man. I'm so proud of you."

  I grin. "Thanks, Mom."

  She kisses me on the forehead. "I'll call the office at Barrington High to ask for details, but no final decisions will be made until after we talk to Dad," she says between sniffs.<
br />
  I have to nod; she deserves at least that.

  "Come on, Jester." She clicks her fingers. "You can see Dale at lunchtime."

  My dog whimpers, reluctant to leave.

  "Jester." Mom's voice is stern. He knows that tone, and I can almost hear him sighing as he rises and pads out of the room.

  I watch them leave, feeling a mixture of elation and fear. My life is about to get really hard.

  Swiveling around in my chair, I flip my notepad back over and gaze at Nicole's name. Yeah, it was going to freaking suck...but it'd be worth it.

  I run my pencil over the N. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to do everything in my power to save this girl.

  *****

  The rest of Dale’s story can be found in The Space Between Heartbeats & The Space Beyond, both available through Amazon.

  PURCHASE LINKS:

  The Space Between Heartbeats

  The Space Beyond

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at The Space Between Heartbeats, plus the offer of a FREE book.

  The Space Between Heartbeats

  Chapter One

  The mirror is particularly kind tonight. I turn to my side, relishing how great I look in my new black leather miniskirt with gold trim. It accentuates my slender curves. My scarlet top has a deep V-neck that gives me an extra boost of confidence and my knee-high boots add the final touch. Trent won’t be able to resist me.

  I reach for my jewelry box and rummage around the carved wooden chest, the gems and metals clinking together. Sliding on a couple of gold rings and my favorite pair of hoop earrings, I give myself one final look in the mirror and grin. As I start to shut the lid of the jewelry box, a long chain catches my eye.

  The two dull metal dog tags swing back and forth as I pull the chain out. I run my thumb over the indented word granite and wince. I’d forgotten that I’d kept this, too ashamed to look at it.

  I slip the chain on. The necklace lies with a weight against my chest. I gaze into the mirror and run my fingers lightly down the chain. A longing pierces me and I’m about to take it off, to push away my feelings, when a car horn blasts outside.

  “Shit.” I snatch my jacket off the end of my bed and shrug my leather bag over my shoulder.

  I head downstairs, my heels clicking in a staccato beat against the hardwood floors. The curtains in the living room are drawn, cocooning my mother in darkness. She likes to lay low on nights when Dad’s working late, which is every night these days. Currently, she’s glued to some pathetic reality show and sipping her white wine as if it’s the only thing keeping her balanced. Maybe it is.

  I breeze past her. “See you, Mom. I’m out.”

  “Where are you off to, Nicole?” Her aqua blue eyes don’t leave the screen.

  “Study group.” I dart toward the front door. Thankfully, Mom doesn’t notice what I’m wearing.

  The dog tags hit my chest as I rush to escape. I gasp and quickly hide them beneath my shirt.

  Amber double-blasts her horn and I roll my eyes as I walk toward her car. I can feel the dog tags pressing against my chest. Amber’s green, catlike eyes skim over me as I slip into the passenger seat of her black Mazda3, and her eyebrows shoot up in approval. She puts the car into drive and we speed down the street.

  “You like?” I point to my new attire.

  “I love it.” She touches my leather skirt. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Online,” I say, adjusting my outfit so my seat belt doesn’t wrinkle it. “It’s a Marc Jacobs.”

  “No way.” Amber can’t hide the tinge of jealousy in her voice. “How do you afford this stuff?”

  I reach into my purse and pull out a shiny silver credit card. Amber leans over and reads—mitchell r. tepper.

  “Your dad is going to kill you when he finds out,” she says with a grin.

  “Yeah, right.” I tuck the card away. “The guy is so clueless, he’ll be searching the house for weeks before he even thinks to ask me.”

  “What about the credit card statements?”

  I throw her a look. “You’ve met my mother, right?”

  “That shopaholic’s worse than you,” Amber agrees.

  “Exactly. We’re in the clear, so let me know what you want.” This is the delicate balance of our friendship—her jealousy will disappear if I buy her something new. A smile spreads across my face. “Fancy a shopping spree in LA tomorrow?”

  Amber smirks. “You are such a bad ass.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I hold the card next to my face and flash a wicked grin at my phone camera. I post the photo to Instagram and show Amber.

  Watch out, LA, I’m on my way. #retailtherapy #thanksdad

  She bursts out laughing. “You’re so busted if your parents see that.”

  “Come on, my parents don’t even know what Instagram is.” Amber laughs a little harder and shakes her head. Getting into a little bit of trouble together is what the two of us do best. We’re each other’s partner in crime.

  I roll down my window and drink in the magical early evening light, the pale dusk sky is clear and beautiful. Even though Big Bear is a sleepy mountain town, sometimes I forget how gorgeous this place is. I catch sight of Dale Finnigan farther up the street. His dark curls are swept back as he jogs down the winding road, his pace slowing as he nears his house. Sweat soaks through the back of his T-shirt.

  The dog tags suddenly feel suffocating.

  “Oh, man, check it out. Finnigan’s trying to get fit. Hilarious.” Amber leans across to yell out my open window while I slump in my seat. “Nice try, freak!”

  Dale keeps staring straight ahead. He’s so strong that way, always letting the bullying slide off of him.

  “See you later, Scarface!” Amber giggles, accelerating around a tight curve. I glance out the back window. Dale stops beneath the streetlight, his curls falling over his face as he shakes his head. The gruesome scar that runs down his cheek throbs red. He looks up and our eyes meet. I turn away, afraid to be caught staring.

  “A little mean, don’t you think?” I say, trying to keep my tone light, as if I don’t really care about how Amber treats Dale.

  “That’s rich, coming from you,” Amber says, stung.

  I clench my teeth, knowing that she’s right. To say I’ve been mean to Dale is an understatement.

  We stop to collect Penny, who’s decked out in a yellow sundress that makes her black hair and dark eyes pop. As soon as she gets in the car, Penny starts chatting about some celebrity who’s trending on Twitter because she was caught cheating at her boyfriend’s birthday party. I’m usually into this stuff, or at least try to pretend that I care, but I can’t seem to do it tonight. All I can think about is Dale’s stoic expression while he watched us drive away.

  “Get ready to party!” Amber says as we pull up to Matt’s house. When it comes to my friends, there isn’t a huge difference between school nights and weekends. If we’re in the mood to party, we’ll make it happen, no matter the night. And judging by the amount of cars parked outside the house, it looks like everyone is in the mood to have some fun on this Tuesday night.

  Amber frowns as we step out of the car. “What’s Adam Hutton doing here?” To our left, the tall blond steps out of a sleek blue car. Adam is the kind of guy who runs in multiple circles. We don’t see him in ours very often—he’s the resident basketball star and in the running for valedictorian. He’s usually too studious for the likes of us.

  “Maybe he needs a night off,” I say.

  A wide smile takes over Penny’s delicate Korean features. “I don’t mind. I think he’s cute.”

  “Pen, he’s a total study nerd.” Amber’s glossy lips curl with disgust.

  “Yeah, a ripped study nerd with a sexy Mustang,” Penny shoots back. “I wonder if he’ll give me a ride home.”

  “Please. The car belongs to his mother. He probably has a curfew and will ditch before things get interesting . . . Although, you could probably get a ride to school in the morning. She always drops
him off on her way to work.”

  I laugh as Penny’s cheeks blaze bright red. Adam’s good looking, but in that corn-fed all-American way. That’s not our style.

  We always look for a little bad in our boys. In fact, we pride ourselves on it, which is why I think the girls are jealous of me dating Trent.

  He is most definitely a bad boy—he smokes, he drinks, he’s got attitude to burn. Amber in particular loves guys like that. And I do, too. Bad boys are the perfect remedy; their wandering hands can make you forget anything.

  I’ll end up in Trent’s arms later, but first I need loud music and a really strong drink.

  Penny and Amber head out back while I go in search of Matt to say hi and get myself a beer. Our host is in the kitchen, wearing a fitted checkered-blue shirt, a cowboy hat, and the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen. Matt spreads his arms wide over a keg. “Matty always delivers.”

  I grin at him, plucking a red cup off a stack. “Nice hat. Where are the parents tonight?” Matt’s folks are almost as checked out as my own, which makes it easy to have “study group” at his place.

  He chuckles, putting on a southern drawl. “The City of Angels, little lady. Not due back until after midnight.” He fills my cup to the brim and gives it back with a tip of the cowboy hat, his eyes lingering over me for a beat too long. “Your boy’s out back already. We’re congregating by the lakeside tonight. Drue’s getting a fire going.”

  “Drue’s here?” That’s a pleasant surprise. Drue’s one of our few friends with strict parents—his dad is Mayor Stratham and he’s incredibly worried about Drue tarnishing his squeaky-clean image. It makes it hard for Drue to join most of our study groups. “Is his dad out of town?”

  “The old tyrant’s on the east coast until tomorrow night. Drue’s taking advantage,” Matt replies.

  “Smart kid.” I sip at the beer, then lick the foam off my top lip. I don’t love the taste of beer, but I love the effect it has. Soon I’ll feel numb. I gulp down another mouthful.

  “Whoa, slow down there, sweetness. There’s plenty to go around.” Matt winks at me.