by Sara Shirley
Copyright © 2014 by Angela Page
All rights reserved
Cover Design by MGCoverDesign, www.mgbookcoversanddesigns.com
Formatting by Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Editing by Paige Maroney Smith
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual personas, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
For Mature Audiences Only 18+
Please note this novel contains strong language, sexual situations and abusive situations.
For all the women who suffer from domestic violence
Let your voice be heard
Help is always out there
www.joyfulheartfoundation.org
Prologue
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Epilogue
Playlist
Burning Barriers Teaser
Biography
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon
The Humping Games Teaser
January 2014
When I made the call to my brother Jeremy, I heard the pained sound in his voice as I told him about Emily’s car accident just minutes earlier. I watched as they loaded the love of his life into the ambulance. The gutted feeling of not knowing the outcome, but fearing the loss of your other half. My other half hasn’t been mine for years, but yet she still holds a piece of my heart.
I run through the halls of Mass General Hospital, trying to remain calm as I attempt to find out any information about Sue and Emily. It’s not easy when you have your family in the waiting room of the ER thinking the worst, and nobody will give you an ounce of help, even when you are in uniform.
My feet can’t keep up with my racing heart until I walk into one of the two hospital rooms I need to be in. The one where the girl who’s held a piece of my heart for all these years is in front of me.
My heart shatters again as she’s lying there in Dave’s arms, their hands clutching her swollen belly. The life I should have had. The family and future I threw away when I thought I was doing the right thing for her.
Sue is happy with Dave, and the baby will bond them forever. She’ll never be mine again. Why is it so fuckin’ real now? I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve asked that question since they got together months ago.
Turning away from the room, I wander the halls, trying to keep myself from losing it. I slam my hands against the swinging door toward the waiting room, except it stops midway, and I hear a woman’s voice on the other side spouting profanities left and right.
I push the door ajar, slower this time, peeking around to see a petite brunette staring back at me. She’s holding her shoulder as her eyes shoot daggers up at me. When my eyes meet hers, I extend my hand, offering her some help getting up. She swats it away and rises to her feet on her own.
Her shoulder is in a sling, her finger is in a brace, and her nose is black and blue. This should raise red flags for me. I’m a cop. I should see these things as questionable, especially for a girl.
I still haven’t said a word to her. The beauty behind her injuries mesmerizes me. My gaze drops from her face, and I slowly take all of her in.
Her clothes pique my curiosity. She’s wearing every color imaginable, pink and black striped knee-high socks over fishnet stockings and bike shorts under what can only be described as adult leopard print underwear. What is up with her outfit? Does she not realize it’s winter outside? Although, it is kinda hot in a freaky way.
She speaks before I do. “Are you trying to lengthen my hospital stay? I’d really like to get the hell out of here and not see what other injuries I can add to my list tonight.”
Fuckin’ A. Who is this girl? Better yet, how does a girl with more attitude than size end up with injuries like this?
Giving me an annoyed look, she tries to push by me with her one good arm. “Do you mind? I can’t get by if you’re blocking the exit. I’ve got places to go, so move it or lose it.”
As I step off to the side and let her pass, my head turns to watch her walk toward another section of the hospital. Catching the back of her shirt, I notice the writing. C-Naughties.
What the hell is a C-Naughtie? And, why the hell am I still speechless?
I’ve been running from my past for nearly three years. I’m not saying I had it bad growing up, quite the opposite, actually. I grew up in Connecticut about an hour from New York City. You can call my family upper middle class, but that’s not what I’ve been running from. No, I’m the one who made a piss-poor decision when I chose the last guy I dated.
I’ve finally started over. I’ve found my footing here in Massachusetts. I have a group of roommates whom I call my sisters. They will fight for me and back me up no matter what. They don’t go by the names “Decker in the Jaw”, “Juicy Lucy”, and” Rose from the Dead” just for fun. Those are their fighting names. Their alter egos, so to speak.
I go by the name “Sammy Sweet Cheeks.” You’ll understand later.
Why is it when the phone call came in a few days ago, letting me know my one fear in the world could threaten to find me again, did I wonder if my girls would be enough to keep me safe? Fight all they want, this was a different beast to go up against.
He tried to kill me once. He most certainly will try again. This has been my fear for so long.
Being in the hospital brings back some painful memories. Memories I don’t care to have cross my mind anymore. Memories of what he did to me on that dreadful night years ago. Running my hands over my neck, I recall gasping for what almost was my last breath as he choked the life out of me with just one hand.
You stupid fuckin’ bitch! I hope you enjoy the feeling of my hands wrapped around your neck because it’s the last thing you’re ever going to feel as I kill you slowly.
Fingers snapping in front of my face bring me out of my horrid memory. My eyes shoot open, and I cringe in horror and suddenly feel nauseous. I quickly assess my surroundings, noticing Kim standing next to me. Stretching out to run her hands over my shoulders, she says, “Hey, are you all right? You look a little peaked. Another flashback?”
“Yeah, I think it’s just because I’m here, and you know how much I hate hospitals,” I answer, even though I can’t tell her that my flashbacks have become more frequent since I found out about his recent parole.
All my roommates know about my past. After I moved into the C-Naughtie house two years ago, I had one night where my nightmare had me screaming bloody murder, and the girls had to help
calm me down. A few shots of Jack Daniels and I spilled all my dark secrets. The one night he sent me to the hospital with barely a pulse and an even longer list of broken bones. He shattered my life in a matter of minutes to where I have now become someone who is unable to trust, and even worse, someone who is afraid to love again.
Forcing myself to the present, I convince Kim that I’m fine and ready to get the hell out of here. As we’re walking toward the exit, I realize I left my messenger bag in the ER room. “Shit, I forgot my bag in the exam room. I’ll be right back.”
Kim sighs and looks at her phone before turning back to me. “Hurry your ass up. We’ve missed half of the after party because of your daredevil move tonight.”
“I’ll be five minutes. Keep your panties on.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
I walk back to the room I was admitted to for my separated shoulder and jammed finger. I laugh to myself when I think about what happened earlier. The doctors didn’t believe me when I told them how I really got my injuries. Apparently, being five-feet-four and skinny as a rail doesn’t allow people to believe I have the ability to bout with the rest of them. That’s right, I said ‘bout’. Once I handed them my trading card as proof, I silenced them immediately. Yeah, assholes. I’m a mother fuckin’ roller derby girl, and I’ll kick your ass any day of the week.
What’s even better is when people ask me how I support myself on that salary, and I tell them I do it for free. That’s when I really throw them for a loop and tell them I’m the manager of a wine bar, and roller derby is just something I do for fun. It’s an added bonus that I get to release pent-up anger against other girls and get away with it.
The looks I get never cease to amaze me. Actually, we derby girls are the same. Derby is our passion. We practice some weekend mornings and weekday evenings. The actual season only consists of five bouts. “Bout” is derby slang for race.
All of us have careers outside of roller derby. Kim is a dispatcher for a police department. Rose is a college English professor, and Lucy is a cosmetologist. She comes in handy when we need our bruises and black eyes covered. Through thick and thin, we are family, injuries and all.
Making my way quickly down the hall after grabbing my bag, I check my phone to see who won tonight’s bout that I had to leave. Not paying attention to where I am walking, I slam right into a hard wall of muscle. Pain shoots up my already bad arm, and I wince as my bag drops to the floor. His hands come up and grab my elbow, and my eyes shoot up to his. Him again.
“Hey,” he says as he picks up my bag from the floor, wrapping it over my shoulder again. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”
I finally take in all of him. It’s hard not to, considering how close we are. How did I miss that he was in uniform before? Clearly, I have an aching to be arrested or handcuffed. Either way, I wouldn’t have minded at all. This officer is seriously hot. It’s too bad I’m not in the market for picking up men anymore. I don’t mean I’m into picking up women either. After my last relationship, I vowed I’d never be that victim again. Someday I may feel differently, but the memories are still too vivid in my mind. Maybe officers don’t beat the shit out of their girlfriends. I guess I’ll never know.
He extends his hand out to me. “Josh Page, and you are?”
“Just leaving. Adios!” I say as I sway past him, waving my hand in the air without turning around.
“Hey! What’s a C-Naughtie?” I hear him ask from behind me, stopping me from taking another step.
Turning around to face him again, I place my hand on my hip. “You’ve never heard of us? Seriously?”
“Obviously not. That’s why I’m curious. It’s snowing like crazy outside, and you’re wearing that outfit, so I had to ask.”
Reaching into my bag, I pull out my trading card and derby flyer as I walk over to him. I hand them to him before saying, “You wanna know what a C-Naughtie is? You’re gonna have to come see for yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” I wink before turning to head back to Kim, who’s hopefully still waiting for me.
“See you later, Sweet Cheeks,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear.
Still walking away from him, never looking back, I reply, “Catch you later, Officer Page.”
It’s been almost a week since that night at the hospital. Fate had to have played a role in my life. I’m lucky to have been the one ordered to work during the snowstorm. If I hadn’t been there when Sue and Emily were in the car accident, I’m not sure Jeremy would have ever lived with the guilt. Emily had just been awarded a trip to the Olympic games as the top US figure skater at the same time my brother received a call saying he had been called up to the NHL.
My little brother has always dreamed of becoming a professional hockey player. I don’t fault him for taking this opportunity and running with it, but as I’m sitting in his apartment helping his soul mate get through the toughest point in her life, I have to wonder if he made the right decision.
Often I have told him when your true love is right in front of you not to let her go like I did. It’s my biggest regret, ever. I don’t even want to imagine the pain he might go through if he loses Emily again after this. She sits in the guest bedroom, listening to her music with earbuds in and reading her e-reader. Half the time I’m here, I end up trying to console her during a crying fit over everything she has lost so fast. First, her figure skating career is gone, and now, my brother.
A few minutes later, my sister, Courtney, comes through the door to relieve me from my shift. I really hate calling it that, but Emily hasn’t been her normal joyful self since Jeremy left, and taking turns helping her recover from her injuries as well as her depression, is wearing on all of us.
Glancing down the hall before Courtney comes over to sit next to me, I grab the remote and turn off the television.
“How’s she doing today?” Courtney asks with concern etched on her face.
“I’m not sure. She’s been in there since I got here, but she hasn’t broken down yet. I suppose that’s some progress, but she really needs to talk to a professional. Better yet, Jeremy needs to man up and fix things with her and talk to her himself.”
A sound from down the hall silences any more talk about Jeremy. Motioning to Courtney that I’ve got it, I walk down the hall and check on Emily. Knocking on the partially opened door before I head into the room, I ask, “Everything okay, Em?” As I move into the room, I see
Jeremy’s Bernese Mountain dog, Aspen, lying on the bed with her as she strokes his head. She sniffles back tears and wipes her nose on the sleeve of one of Jeremy’s hoodies she’s been wearing since she returned home from the hospital.
Shit.
“He’s not coming back, is he? Not that I blame him. I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him we needed this time apart. Everything is my fault, Josh.”
“Hey, nothing is anyone’s fault,” I say, trying to console her dark thoughts. Those thoughts have continued to get darker as the days continue without Jeremy. I’ve seen what those thoughts have done to others. In my line of work, it comes with the territory, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my brother’s girlfriend become another statistic. “Jeremy will call you when he has time. He loves you, Em. He’ll be back the minute he can. Just try to stay positive.” Leaning down to give her a kiss on the head as I would my own sister, I ruffle her hair, trying to lighten her mood. “Do you need anything before I head out? Courtney’s here, but she’s not nearly as fun as me, so just say the word, and I’ll be your resident comedian for the night.” I softly punch her good arm.
A slight giggle escapes her mouth before she clears her throat. “Nah, you can go. I’ll be okay.” She raises her fingers to play with her necklace. As I walk back toward the door, I hear her speak up behind me. “Josh, thanks for everything.”
“Anytime, Emily. If you need anything, just call me.”
As I make my way back to the living room, I grab my black pea co
at, winter beanie, and keys from the kitchen table before walking over to Courtney who’s texting on her phone. Most likely Sue. Another person I’m trying not to think about these days. Sliding my arms into the sleeves, I watch Courtney place her phone onto the coffee table and look up at me. “Everything okay down there? Does she need anything?”
“Yeah, she fuckin’ needs Jeremy. So, your one task tonight is to get him on the phone and talk some sense into him. I’d do it, but I’m headed home to try to get some sleep before I go to work.”
As I make sure I have everything before heading toward the door, I hear Courtney sniffle behind me. Seriously, I can only take so much right now. “Court? Are you all right?”
“She’s getting worse, Josh.”
Her words send daggers through me because I know they’re true. Stepping over to her and resting my hands on her shoulders, I do my best to convince her otherwise. “She’ll get better. You just have to be tough around her. Don’t let her see how scared you are. She’ll pull through.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, her or me. After she gives me a slight nod that she can handle this, I head out toward my car. Once I start my Jeep Wrangler, I grab my cell phone while I wait for the car to warm up a little. I begin typing out a quick text to Jeremy.
You better fix this with Emily. Don’t make the same mistake I did.
It totally sucks that I’m rolling around this track, unable to actually practice. The doctors say it will be another week or so before I’m able to use my shoulder again. I’m just glad it wasn’t any worse. My time at the track allows me to release the stress and anger I can’t during regular working hours. Something tells me pushing and shouting at the customers at Vines wouldn’t play out very well.
Managing the wine and beer bar on some evenings allows me to calm down and relax, which is nice, considering I’m usually about ready to burst out of my skin most days. Some days I’m good; other days I’m tormented and constantly in panic mode. There is always a sense that he will be standing outside waiting for me, looking for revenge. I know it’s stupid; he’s been in jail for three years. Well, it was stupid until about three weeks ago when I found out his parole hearing is set for next month.
