A Torey Hope Novel Series: The Complete 4-Book Box Set

by A. D. Ellis

  Chapter 9

  Jeremiah

  “Fuckin’ A!” He cursed again as he pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “What the hell was that? What did I just do?” He pulled over on the side of the road under a street light. He knew he was in no shape to go home to see his parents and Beckett. Noticing he was close to a park, he climbed from the Bronco and walked for a while. His thoughts swirled together, a mishmash of emotions.

  Today started out fine, but with one phone call it all went to shit. He had barely walked into the house from work and changed clothes when Shelly called. She had some big long sob story about how she misses her baby and wants to spend time with Beckett. When Jeremiah laughed and said, “Hell no, you lost that right four years ago when you walked out on us and divorced me.” Shelly hadn’t liked his answer; her voice turned venomous. “You will let me be in my son’s life or you will pay me to stay out of it. It’s your choice. My lawyer will be in touch.”

  Fuck! Shelly had a lawyer? How did she have a lawyer? She was probably screwing a lawyer for his services. It definitely wasn’t below her.

  Jeremiah had headed to his parents’ house. One look at her son’s face and Judy Jordan sent him into the den to speak to his father. A five minute conversation with his son led to Jack Jordan shooing Jeremiah out the door telling him to take the whole evening and try to escape this mess for a while. They could talk more about it and work on solving the Shelly problem this weekend. His parents were happy to have Beckett spend the evening with them; they promised to take him to his house by bedtime so he would be tucked in on time.

  Jeremiah headed to the gym to play ball or lift weights. He needed a physical escape of some sort. As shitty as his day had just turned, it made perfect sense that the gym was closed for painting. It would be open tomorrow. Well, tomorrow wasn’t going to help him. He needed to work off the stress of Shelly today. Tomorrow he was going to have to deal with the Shelly situation. Today, he was escaping reality. His Bronco seemed to have a plan of its own as it arrived at a shit-hole bar almost as if on auto pilot.

  Somewhere between leaving his parents’ house and finding out the gym was closed, Jeremiah had stupidly decided that drinking away his problems was his next best bet. The fact that he’d all but stopped drinking since Beckett arrived didn’t cross his mind. The fact that he knew he made poor choices when he was buzzed wasn’t even in the periphery of his thoughts. Forgetting this day was his only thought. He walked into the bar with a purpose: drink until he couldn’t even think about Shelly. This would have been a great plan if it hadn’t been for the girl sitting at the bar when he walked in. Her beautiful blonde hair reminded him of a cross between sweet cotton candy and an angel. Shit, he wasn’t even drinking yet and he was off his game. He didn’t look at girls. He wasn’t looking for any of the problems a girl could bring. He didn’t compare girls to candy and angels. He most certainly didn’t feel a growing surge in his jeans when he saw girls. Jeremiah Jordan was a single father of a four-year-old special needs child. He was happy the way he was; he didn’t want a girl coming into his life and causing issues. He was off the market. Because of Beckett.

  But, damn, if that angel at the end of the bar didn’t buy him a drink and give him a sexy smile and wink. Jeremiah was headed well and sure down the path toward a buzz when he accepted the shot from his sweet angel. Yeah, he had obviously passed buzzed if he was nicknaming random strangers and thinking of them as his. One more drink then he’d have to switch to water and start sobering up. He was drinking to escape the shit storm that was Shelly, but he wasn’t irresponsible enough to drink and drive.

  Well, hell, Sweets was heading his way. He tried not to notice the way her hips swayed or how she filled out her shirt. But, he was off the market, not dead, so it was hard to not notice. His sweet angel settled in and, with a couple words from her, he was spilling his guts about this whole Shelly situation.

  Sweets listened to him talk about Shelly and her demands for quite a while. It was nice that she actually did seem to be listening; he didn’t have many people to talk to around here except his parents. After he unloaded the whole story about Shelly’s phone call, he was starting to think about another drink because he’d begun to lose his buzz. Sweets had a different plan though. She turned up the sex in those gorgeous blue eyes and made him an offer. He hadn’t had sex in a very long time. A very long time. Because of Beckett. He didn’t place blame on his little boy, not at all. He was just too busy with work and Beckett and all the additional work that came with caring for the little boy; extra time just wasn’t a plentiful commodity. And, if he had any spare time, he wanted to spend it with Beckett and his parents or go shoot hoops with the guys. Sex just always took the back burner. Jeremiah had no plans on starting a relationship and sleeping around didn’t seem to be the type of example he wanted to be for Beck. However, after the stress of today, Angel sitting there with her sultry lips, curves, and come hither eyes, was just too much. He took a deep breath and attempted to talk himself out of leaving this bar with her. But, his decision making skills had been dulled by the slight buzz he still had going on. He made a last ditch effort to turn this Angel off when he basically stated this would be a fling, a one-time thing only. That play sure backfired; Sweets jumped on his stipulation and ran with it. Before he knew it, he was throwing money on the bar and leaving with a gorgeous girl. Where was the single dad of a four-year-old?

  Jeremiah noticed two things in the bright fluorescent glow of the security lights. One, this sweet angel resembled Shelly slightly. Was this a good idea? Two, Sweets didn’t like his Bronco. She was clearly more high maintenance than he’d ever want to mess with. Again, was this a good idea? His brain told him to call this off, beg out of it. But his more pressing body part encouraged him to see this thing out. Who cared if she looked a little like Shelly? She was absolutely gorgeous. Who cared if she was high maintenance? He wanted in her pants; he wasn’t planning on proposing to her. That certain body part won the argument and he enjoyed the slide of his hand on her back as he helped her into the Bronco. Once they backed out of the bar parking lot, Angel wasted no time getting down to business.

  Holy hell. He hadn’t gotten a blow job for almost as long as he had been without sex. He hadn’t had a blow job while he was driving since he was a stupid sixteen-year-old kid. Shit, he couldn’t concentrate on driving with her mouth doing what it was doing. Luckily they were very close to her apartment.

  He felt like a kid sneaking around to have sex as they hurried into her place. It became evident very quickly that Sweets was used to controlling sexual situations. He guessed that she probably controlled most situations, sexual or not. Something inside him seemed to come to life at that moment. He’d been having sex since he was about seventeen. At that point in his life, the sex was out of this world. In hindsight, Jeremiah realized just how pathetic it really was. During basic training there was zero time or energy left for sexual relations. Then, right after basic, he shipped out and spent the next two years overseas seeing some really bad shit. He wasn’t even on the front lines and the scenes he saw would stay with him forever. When he returned from overseas, he hooked up with Shelly. Sex with Shelly had been a great physical experience, but it was never emotional and that hadn’t bothered Jeremiah at the time. He didn’t notice that emotions were missing during sex with his girlfriend or with the countless other girls he slept with while Shelly was cheating on him. Sex was sex, it wasn’t about love. He never cared if he was on top or bottom. He never cared about the words spoken or not spoken. If the girl wanted kinky, fine. If she wanted fast, fine. If she wanted slow, fine. He never cared about any of that. He was just a barely interested participant.

  Until today, Jeremiah had never realized just how detached he was. Again, the thoughts of talking to someone about possible PTSD popped into his mind; but, just like not having time for relationships or sex, he didn’t have time for spilling his guts on a couch.

  Today, all of the detached, uncaring attitu
de towards sex flew out the proverbial window. The second he heard Sweets say that she wanted to call the shots, he felt something catch fire inside him. He knew at that moment that he wanted nothing more than to control every second of this experience. He didn’t know if it was the fact that he knew it would piss her off or the fact that this would only be a one-time thing, but he planned on commandeering this little quickie they had going on and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

  And enjoy he did. Fuck, he enjoyed it. Way too much. His mind was on a continuous loop replaying every whimper, every word, every moan that his touch elicited from his sweet angel. Her begging echoed in his head. Damn, even kissing her had fanned flames in him like no other kiss he’d ever had. His body still felt the effects of what had followed those kisses; his body was protesting the one-time-thing stipulation. His brain and heart seemed to want to join his body’s protesting; but, that would be insane, right? He didn’t feel something for some random girl he’d just met, a girl who looked a little like Shelly, picked up strangers in a bar, and slept with them in a matter of two hours. No, he didn’t want this. He wouldn’t pursue this. But, his lips still tingled from that last kiss. Angel had been an absolute fucking vision laying there with that sheet draped across her, her breasts thrust out, her mouth instructing him to leave. The words kick-started Jeremiah’s defiant side; he purposely strode toward her and gave her a kiss to end all kisses and then walked out. He hoped she was at least as shaken by that kiss, by this whole evening, as he was. No, he didn’t hope that. He wasn’t shaken. He’d just had good sex, great sex. It had just been a very long time. Nothing more. He didn’t want her thinking about him. He didn’t want to be thinking about her. Shit, this right here was exactly why he wasn’t looking for a girl, a relationship, anything. He needed to store away this day of mind-blowing sex and move on. A little part of his brain nagged at him that today had been more than out-of-this-world sex; it had felt more like a connection, more emotional. If he would let himself admit it, he felt more alive today than he had since coming home from overseas. But, he wasn’t listening to his brain. Jeremiah headed back to the Bronco and revved it up before heading toward his house. He was feeling a lot more settled; it was time to give his sweet boy hugs and kisses, even if he was already in bed. Tomorrow, he’d deal with Shelly. And, tomorrow, he’d call Audrey Decker to see if she had decided to take Beckett’s party or not. Either way, he had a birthday to plan for the best four-year-old on the planet.

  Chapter 10

  Audrey

  After my quickie guy left last night, I took a shower and headed to bed. I was already beginning to feel the lowness that sets in after I’ve screwed up. It was as if a wet, black blanket settled over me; I should have listened to Angel Audrey, she was right. I felt terrible afterwards. Having sex with a random guy didn’t take away my problems, and I didn’t even get a sense of control. Before falling asleep, I texted Dr. Xander to let him know I’d messed up again and I’d see him bright and early in the morning. I’m sure he was disappointed; he probably also felt relief, I’d keep him in business for a long time to come still. He texted back that I needed to forgive myself and not to wallow. He reminded me that he had told me to expect setbacks and that I was only human. It helped to have a shrink telling me that a setback wasn’t the end of the world and that I could continue my journey toward healing. I got out of bed and looked at my notecards on my mirror for a good long while. SURVIVOR. I am a survivor. I reminded myself, not that I could forget now that Dr. Xander made me unearth it from the depths of my psyche that I’ve survived a trauma. Some trauma victims don’t survive, but I was getting a chance to heal and move on. I would continue to be a SURVIVOR. But, like Dr. X said, being a survivor means that I’m human; as a human, I’m allowed to make mistakes. That doesn’t mean I should run around making them left and right and it doesn’t mean that last night was ok. But, I don’t have to drown in the black, wet blanket that wants to suffocate me. I can throw the blanket off, lift my chin high, pump my fist in the air, and shout, “I’m a survivor!” as I move on from this.

  The second card was harder to read. “I can only show love when I know how loved I am.” I know that my dad loves me. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have worked so hard to get me into the treatment I so desperately needed. I know Beth loves me. If she didn’t love me, she never would have forgiven me for the absolutely vile things I did to her in the far past and not-so-distant past. But, having my dad and sister love me? Is that enough for me to show love towards others? I think my father and sister realize that I love them; I’ve been trying harder lately to let them know that. Then there’s Nicky Morgan. Nicky loves me in his own way. I’m not sure it’s an unconditional love; Nicky would kick me to the curb if I started being mean to Beth or Nate or anyone else again. But I know Nicky does love me. And, in a platonic way, I love him. Nicky has been a sort of savior for me. He took me in as a friend when no one else would have; he was honest with me when my choices were poor, but he allowed me to stick around when I changed my ways. But, again, is the love of a friend enough for me to feel loved? I feel special in some ways that I have three very important people loving me. Conversely, I feel sad that I can only claim three people to love me. I stopped my train of thoughts there, I reminded myself that I will one day be able to claim love and show love; I just need to continue on my journey.

  Upon climbing back into bed, my thoughts drifted toward the mess that was my evening. All effects of alcohol had worn off long ago. My mind was swimming through the muck of a heavy depression that kept prodding at me, wanting to settle in; my heart and brain kept battling the blackness to keep it from taking up residence. Between the blackness and the battling, my mind wandered just a bit to a place it had never wandered before. I allowed myself to think about the man I’d spent the evening with. I allowed my heart to swell at the remembrance of his deep voice calling me Angel or Sweets. Ridiculous names, yet they made me smile. I let my body tingle when I recalled his hands and mouth on me; I shuddered at the recollection of what those hands and mouth had done to me. I smiled slightly when I thought about the beautiful ink that covered his body; since when had I ever thought of tattoos as beautiful? But, on this man, they were nothing less than that. Ironically, it wasn’t the sex that came next in my mind, it was the kiss. A kiss that still made me sigh. A kiss that had me longing for more. But, more wasn’t something I could have. For the first time in my life, I wanted to see a man again. I wanted to hold his hand and feel his strong hand on the small of my back as he assists me into his truck. I want his mouth to tease me with kisses. But, more so than that, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him to pick me up and take me on a date and spend the evening talking. No, Audrey, that’s not going to happen. You told him this was a one-time thing and that’s what you wanted as well. You can’t change the rules now. I felt a little more empty as I snuggled into bed and drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of his kisses and his voice whispering those crazy nicknames.

  Chapter 11

  Audrey

  The next morning, feeling slightly better and ready to move on, I got ready and then jumped into my car to head to Dr. Xander’s office. I had a lot to do today, so I was glad he had given me an early appointment. I turned the key and my car made a terrible screeching noise before it started, shuddered, died, and began billowing smoke. Fuck my life. Of course my car would die. It’s not like it’s a new car. I’ve been lucky that the tiny little silver Mazda has run as long as it has. But, today? Now?

  I called Dr. Xander first and ask if there’s a later appointment. His receptionist told me to come an hour later. It’s not perfect, but it would have to do. I called Beth and asked if Scott from the center could look at my car. Beth said that Scott would be thrilled to get his hands on a problem like my car was having and to bring it on in. Next, the tow truck. Luckily, the local man who drives the tow truck wasn’t busy and he was at my apartment loading the car up within 10 minutes. I accepted his offer to take me to the
center as he delivered my car there. Scott came out to talk to me about what the car had done when I started it. I felt a sense of dread at the look on his face when he walked back into the shop to take a look at it. He said he’d try to come talk to me before I had to leave to let me know what was wrong with it. I was already afraid the check I wrote the tow truck guy was going to bounce; I really didn’t want to hear from Scott just how much this car situation was going to cost.

  I wandered into the library portion of the center. I knew Beth was getting ready to do a book themed craft with a morning class of preschoolers, so I took a seat and settled in to watch her. As I was waiting for craft time to start, I noticed a little boy walk in with a lady I’m assuming was his grandmother. She stopped to talk to another grandmotherly looking woman and the little boy headed toward the library section. I bet he was here to make a craft. Right away, I noticed he walked with a bit of a limp. His glasses were as thick as Coke bottles. He had on bright orange hearing aids. And there was a predominant scar on his lip. I turned my attention away from him. One of the things I was still working on with Dr. Xander was not feeling uncomfortable around people with physical or mental challenges. In the past, I would have made fun of a person’s appearance or speech and I would have called them derogatory names. Names I can’t even bring myself to say now because I know, thanks to Nicky, just how hurtful those words are. But, even though I’m working to be more comfortable around disabilities and learning to treat them kindly as I would any other person, that doesn’t mean that I’m always real good at it. I just wanted Scott to come tell me my car would be a quick fix and that I could pick it up this afternoon once he fixed it. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t asking for too much. While I sat there, trying not to stare at the little boy, he approached me.