Colton: Wordsmith Chronicles Book 2 (The Wordsmith Chronicles)

by Christopher Harlan

  “My place? Netflix and chill, or is that too ordinary for you?”

  “I think ordinary with you sounds extraordinary. But I get to pick the show.”

  “Deal.”

  30

  Harley

  I wake up to the thrashing of his body.

  His elbow in my face is what actually wakes me, but I’m not his target. He’s dead asleep, but moving around like he’s a awake, making noises and having what looks like a terrible nightmare. Once I’m up I turn on the light and start shaking him and calling his name, all the while trying not to get hit in the face.

  “Colt, wake up!”

  His eyes shoot open and he screams. I pull back because he’s still twitching around, but he looks at me with wide eyes almost as if he doesn’t know me or where he is. “Colt, it’s me. It’s Harley. You’re okay, it’s a dream.” His eyes go back to normal, slowly, and once he hears my voice he starts to realize that he was having a nightmare. His pillow is stained with the sweat that’s dripping off his body. He looks like he just came from the gym. “Are you alright?”

  “What happened?” he asks me.

  “Well I’m no psychologist, but you were having a terrible nightmare about something.”

  “My dad,” he says like he’s confessing to me. “I was dreaming about my dad?”

  “Like someone was hurting him?”

  “I wish.” He sits up and turns his light on also. I run to the bathroom and grab a towel for him to dry off.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “Be sorry for the elbow to my jaw.”

  “Oh, shit, did I hit you?”

  “Just a little love tap. You were asleep, it’s all good. Who were you trying to hit?”

  “Him. My father.”

  “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  He looks me in the eye like he’s upset. He’s never even mentioned his father before. I’ve told him a lot about my past, but he’s kept his pretty close to the vest. I’m not upset about that, but there’s obviously something bothering him if he’s having such intense nightmares. And something tells me this isn’t the first one.

  “What time is it?” he asks.

  “4 a.m. Still dark out. We fell asleep around midnight binging Stranger Things, remember?”

  “Right. Aliens in that 1980’s town. Weird girl with the shaved head.”

  “Eleven.”

  “Eleven, that’s right. She was cool.”

  “So. . .about that violent nightmare.”

  “Can I have a glass of water with ice in it first? I promise I’ll tell you.”

  “Sure.” I get him what he wants and fill it with enough ice to bring his body temperature down. I put some extra ice in a small ziplock bag and bring both to him in bed.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry again. I never told you about my nightmares.”

  “This happens a lot?” I ask.

  “I don’t know if I’d say it happens a lot, but it happens consistently. Usually I wake myself up after a while. It’s getting better.”

  “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

  He takes a deep breath. A really deep breath. The kind you take before you have a long story to tell, but he probably needs to get whatever it is off his chest. “I guess that’s only fair. You should know what I’ve really been doing in therapy with Cordelia.”

  “Tell me.”

  The next fifteen minutes are emotional for me. He tells me about his childhood. About his abusive father and his enabling mother. About how he learned how to fight, and about the times he had to use those skills against his own father. I almost cry, but I keep it together so that it doesn’t become about him comforting me.

  “It took Cordelia to show me that my father was at the root of all the problems I’ve been having. It was him who taught me that violence is how you deal with things. Jesus, it sounds really dumb to say out loud, but that’s really what I believed. It’s what I still believe to some extent, but I’m working on it. It’s a process.”

  “It is,” I tell him. “Since we can talk openly about this now, that’s one of the first things my therapist told me when I started going to her. ‘It’s a process, Harley, and it can’t be rushed for anything.’ She was right about that.”

  “I’m on the fast track, though, since I only have a few mandated sessions, but I think that I may keep going past when I have to.”

  “I’m really happy to hear you say that, Colt. I think it’s a great idea. It changes lives if you put in the work, and I know that you will. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I love you,” he says, and it takes me so off guard that I look as disoriented as he did when I woke him up a few minutes ago. “I really do love you.”

  “I love you too, Colt.” I say it back quickly, but it’s not a reflex—not something that I have to do, or feel obligated to reciprocate. I say it back because I mean it. Colt’s been the best thing to happen to me, and I think he feels the same. It’s funny how three words can encompass all of that so simply, but they work perfectly for me.

  We don’t need any more words. I shut off both of our lights and snuggle up under the covers, resting my head against the warmth of his chest. He gently runs his hands through my hair, and I take comfort in the feeling of my head rising and falling as he breathes.

  As my eyes start to close I have the same thought over and over.

  I could stay here forever.

  Forever and ever.

  31

  Colton

  A week later

  There are only a few things that actually make me nervous.

  Shark attack stories in the news on a week that I’m heading out to Jones Beach.

  Mayonnaise on just about anything.

  Oh, and the crushing worry of failure that courses through my body when I have a new book coming out. The process of uploading a book to Amazon is annoying, and something readers obviously never see. It’s filled with a million small decisions. Should I put the book on KDP select? Should I allow lending? Should it be on Kindle Unlimited? How much do I charge? Death by a thousand small cuts, but once you see that ‘IN REVEW’ text on your amazon author page it all feels more than worth it.

  A new book represents new opportunities—chances for readers to engage with a new story, to expand your reader base, and to have some activity around your career. Every release is special, and every one is fraught with worry over how good or bad it’ll do once it’s out there in the world. This one has special significance to me. I feel like I’ve been on a long and winding personal road to get here. I feel like I’ve really earned this one more than some others. It’s a book about a lot of things, but more than anything it’s about the redemptive power of love—how the right woman in your life can keep you on track, and make you the best possible man that you’re capable of being. That’s what my main character, Aidan, experiences, and in a lot of ways his story is my story.

  I’m not a professional MMA star, but I am a fighter. And I don’t just mean in terms of my training or martial arts background, I mean that every struggle I’ve gone through this year has been a fight, and so far I’ve come up on the other end of it. But this new release is killing my nerves.

  One thing I can rest easy knowing is that the book came out exactly like I wanted it to. It’s like a Rocky story, only MMA. The story got great reviews by all of my ARC and beta team, the custom shoot with G and Brody gave me the best cover shot I’ve ever had—and maybe one of the best ones I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t be happier with the book itself, but being successful in this industry is about more than just loving your own book, it’s about spreading the word out so that everyone else gets to love your book also.

  I hit the ‘upload your manuscript’ button on my computer and feel like I’m going to puke, only I can’t puke. I have a lunch to go to. I get myself ready and make a promise to the indie book gods that I’m
not going to obsessively check social media all day—that I’m going to be present in my life and that no matter what else happens, I’m going to be happy because I have a lot to be happy for. But first, lunch.

  <><><>

  I geotag and Instagram post that I’m having lunch with Grayson and North at the Blue Bay Diner. North’s in town visiting some family so I asked him to meet up with us. I invited Brody, too, but he’s traveling doing some other shoots. The life of a model! I send him the link to the book so he can blast it out to his gazillion social media followers. The kid’s seriously got like 25,000 followers and he’s still growing. I could use some of that Brody promotion, and he’s a great guy so I know he’s more than willing to help me out.

  I get to the diner first and hug it out with Spiros. I get the embarrassing Wordsmith greeting when I walk into the place, but I’m starting to get used to it. It makes me feel famous for about five seconds. I get a good booth and check my social media before everyone shows. Release day is stressful as fuck, and I try to respond to all the ‘Happy Release Day’ messages and shared posts all through Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Before I have a chance to finish, Grayson and North walk through the front, which I only realize when I hear another ‘Wordsmiths!’ greeting.

  “Look who I found in the parking lot,” Gray says. I stand up to greet them both. Gray’s a more unassuming guy, but North stands out with his bald head, tattoos, and boisterous speaking voice. A few of the old people give us looks again, but I just smile back. At least I won’t be talking about tits and ass again.

  “How’s release day going?” North asks.

  “Stressful, dude.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says, opening his menu. “That shit never gets easier. I’d like to lie to you and tell you it does, but fifty novels in and it’s still stressful as shit.”

  “Fifty fucking novels!” Gray says. “I can’t imagine having that big of a library.”

  “I couldn’t either,” North answers in his raspy voice. “But one day you will, if you all stick to it. And you’re going to stick to it, correct?” Now he sounds like a dad making a suggestion to his sons that really isn’t a suggestion at all.

  “Yes, sir,” I joke.

  “Absolutely,” Gray answers.

  “Well that’s good to hear, boys. Too many people in this industry see it as a get rich quick thing. They saw Fifty Shades take off and they think that they can just slap some bullshit together on their computer and make millions of dollars. Shit doesn’t work like that. You’ve gotta play the long game with this, and that means writing lots of books and growing a fan base over time.”

  I listen to his sage-like words. He’s right. I haven’t been in the game nearly as long as North has, but even in the few years since we graduated I’ve seen a whole host of romance authors come and go. There are the ones who did just what North described—write one shitty book, trying to spend as little as possible on their cover and editing, and treating their book like a lottery ticket. They go fast. Then there are the ones who are in it for the long haul, but they can only handle a few failures before they quit. There’s a whole tier of those authors as well. It’s the ones who can ride the ups and the downs and still keep improving who last. I keep reminding myself of that. We all do.

  “So how’s your legal situation, brother?”

  “Good. I saw the judge yesterday, and I fulfilled all of the requirements he set out for me. Cordelia signed off on all our therapy sessions. I’m a free man.”

  “Here’s to that!” North raises his plastic water glass and we all cheer. “That’s great news. Now you can focus on just being great. How’s your girl?”

  “She’s great. I think that’s what made the difference, to be honest.”

  “Of course it is,” North says. “When I met Sarah I was down and out. I had published, but I didn’t really know what the fuck I was doing. She helped me turn it around. A good woman will do that, Colton, don’t ever forget that.”

  “I won’t, man. I’m holding onto this one and not letting go.”

  “So are we going ring shopping after this?” I shoot Gray a look and raise my eyebrows.

  “Hell no,” I say. “Not yet. I’m not that guy who’s scared of marriage. In fact, the idea of being married to Harley makes me all warm and fuzzy. But it’s way too soon for that. I’m just going to enjoy being in love and being with a great woman who loves me back. The rest will come. But hey, when it’s time, you’ll be right there helping me pick out the cut.”

  “Damn, you think this guy knows shit about engagement rings? I doubt it.”

  “You’d be surprised, North. Gray’s a jack of all trades.”

  “He’s a jack-off, you mean.” We all laugh a little and order as the waitress comes over. I get a short stack of pancakes. Grayson gets the french toast deluxe, and North orders a burger and a coffee. “And how about you, Grayson? What’s the situation with your love life?”

  “I wish I had one, man. I’ve just been focused on my books.”

  “Focus on your books, for sure,” North says. “But when you’re done with that get yourself a good woman like Colt here. I saw that one checking you out at the signing. The one who was there with the other two.”

  “Rowan,” I say, because I know Grayson won’t. He’s weird when it comes to girls. A little secretive. “She’s best friends with my girl and Mike’s fiancé, Everleigh. They’re like a trio.”

  “Just like you guys,” North says. “Three on three. Literally. God damn, that shit’s right out of one of my books.” Gray looks uncomfortable and North senses it, so he decides to move on. “I’ll leave you alone on that front, Grayson. But don’t think next time I see you that we aren’t going to revisit this shit, you hear?”

  “I hear ya. How can I say no?”

  The beautiful part about a diner is how fast and how reliable the food is. It’s basically like guilt-free fast food that isn’t so bad for you—at least that’s what I’m telling myself. But it’s my release day, so fuck it. I’m slathering my pancakes with butter and strawberry maple syrup before attacking this sausage and bacon. I’ll hit the gym tomorrow.

  “What ever happened with KL and Roland, and all those guys?” North asks.

  “Nothing since I set Calem on them. It’s been radio silence. Even their social media’s been dead. Who knows?”

  “I’m sure they’re thinking of something to screw with you, as we speak.”

  “Probably,” I agree.

  We finish up our meals. I grab the check as a thank you to North and Gray for all of their support and we head out.

  “Until next time, brothers!” North hugs Gray and me, and climbs into the Pussy Wagon to no small amount of stares from the people sitting by the window inside the diner.

  Gray and I shake hands, and agree to do another boys’ night out soon with just the three of us, and I get in my car. There’s a gas station a few blocks away, and I drive there to fill up—otherwise I’ll never make it home. As I’m sitting at the full service pump I text Harley.

  Me: I wanna take you out somewhere.

  Harley: I’m thinking we can stay in. I enjoyed that.

  Me: Stay in? You sure? Ms. Adventurous wants to sit on a couch?

  Harley: Ummm. I don’t plan on doing much sitting. I had other activities in mind.

  Me: Oh yeah? Like what?

  Harley: I was thinking of maybe practicing what we learned the other night. I don’t think I’ve mastered that chocolate ganache just yet.

  Me: Is that right?

  Harley: No matter what I do it keeps coming out gooey.

  Me: Well we’ll have to work on that later, huh?

  Harley. Only on one condition?

  Me: What’s that?

  Harley: You need to wear that plastic hat. And only that plastic hat.

  Damn.

  Well, I guess I’m stopping for a plastic hat on the way home.

  32

  Grayson

  I’m parked on the other
side of the diner, so after Colton takes off I walk around to jump in my car. I barely have my hands on the door when I hear a voice from behind me.

  “All alone, I see.”

  I turn around to Roland Rays. I recognized his voice before I turned, but even as I do I’m hoping that I’m wrong, that this drama isn’t really happening to me in the parking lot of a fucking diner. These guys are like a case of the crabs.

  “As are you, Roland. Where’s your entourage? I’m not used to seeing you alone.”

  “Well thanks to you, KL is meeting with a lawyer, and Johnathan is off at another signing so it’s just me, myself and I. And you, of course.”

  “So what is this?” I ask. “Is this another drama-filled moment where we keep this bullshit going on forever? What’s the deal, man, why are you following me?”

  “I’m actually not following you, even if you don’t believe me. I did see Colt check in on Instagram—and by the way, geotagging your exact address all the time isn’t the greatest thing to do.”

  “Well I guess he assumed people weren’t using his tags to follow him around. He’s trusting like that.”

  “Regardless, not the best thing to do.”

  “I guess not.”

  “This isn’t over, Gray. I’m not here on behalf of everyone, this is just me talking, but I know the other guys feel the same. You hit us, and we’re gonna hit you back just as hard, if not harder. I promise you that.”

  Promise. When he says that I feel something happen inside of me. I don’t know what it is, but I feel a change. I feel like the alter-ego of some superhero in the comics, or a guy in one of those horror films right before he starts growing hair and claws and howling at the moon as he transforms. I don’t feel like the rational, calm, big-brother Grayson that the guys know me as. I feel. . .bigger. I feel stronger. I feel fierce and unrestrained, and it all happens in an instant. I might as well have superpowers—might as well have grown in size and sprouted adamantium claws from each hand. I don’t need the other guys with me, I don’t need anyone. It’s just me and him, and he’s about to learn his place. I have a promise of my own to make.