Another Life
Another Life Series #1
By
Jasmine Denton
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Jasmine Denton
All rights reserved
Dedication
There are so many people who have supported me while I pursue my dream of being a writer. It seems impossible to ever thank them all appropriately. However, there is one person who loved this book, talked about it all the time, and never got to see the day it was published.
This year, the world lost a wonderful woman. My grandmother Inez had the strongest faith of anybody I’ve ever seen. It was rare, genuine, and unshakeable—the kind of thing you don’t notice until it’s missing. Losing a loved one never gets easy, and neither does moving on without them. This book wouldn’t have made it without her—she passed down her passion for writing to me and offered endless inspiration and support. She read this book nearly ten years ago and loved it. It spoke to her, made her remember her own misspent youth. Granny, I dedicate this book to your memory.
There’s someone else who deserves credit, too. My sister, Genna Denton, revived this story when I thought it was dead. Thanks Gen, for teaching me never to give up on a character with a story.
Chapter One
In the dark, trees formed terrifying shadows from every direction, transforming the forest into a land of terror. Between the throaty baritone of a bullfrog and the chirping song of crickets, a panicked scream ripped through the night. In a flash of milky skin and dark flowing hair, Cameron Baker bolted through the woods, the branches tearing at her skin and leaving tiny red slices all over her arms, legs and her bare feet. Tossing a frantic glance behind her, she kept running straight ahead. It wasn’t the shadows that frightened her, but what she’d left behind in them.
Cameron’s body bolted to an upright position as she woke from the nightmare. Pressing a hand against her chest, she felt her heart thump wildly underneath her palm. She struggled to calm herself as frantic thoughts zinged around in her mind. You’re okay, she reminded herself, as she did every time she awoke from one of those horribly vivid dreams. You’re okay.You survived.
With a slow look around the room, she realized she didn’t recognize her surroundings. For the first few seconds, she’d expected everything to be normal. She’d expected to be in her basement-bedroom at her aunt’s house, where she’d grown up. Then she remembered, after a huge fight, she’d run away from her aunt’s house a few days ago. The uncertainty of the future ahead left her feeling uneasy and vulnerable.
Instead of dingy cement walls, she was surrounded by the unnaturally clean and bright white walls of a hotel suite. Hearing a small whirl and bubbling sound, she looked across the room and saw they’d left the Jacuzzi running.
Slowly, she shifted in the bed to look at Julian. Passed out flat on his stomach, with his handsome face turned toward the other side of the room, he snored as he slept soundly. His normally combed and neat dark hair was messy and tousled with sleep.
A sharp ache spread through her skull, the first signs of a hangover. With a groan, she brought her hand to her head and saw something glisten in the light from a dim lamp next to the bed. Moving her hand down to her lap, she looked at the gold wedding band around her finger.
Flashes of the night before came back to her in hazy bits and pieces. She remembered being somewhere with tacky floral arrangements and depressing piano music. It was late and she’d been outside with Julian. A man in a suit was there, too. She tried to focus, tried to drag up more details that would disprove the horrifying theory forming in her mind. Yesterday she’d been tossing back drinks since noon. By night time, she’d been completely hammered so surely she hadn’t…
Stretching across Julian, she looked at his hand, mortified to find a matching ring. And her heart started thumping more loudly than before.
She quickly reached next to the bed and groped around, finding a fifth of vodka. It only had about an inch left, but she quickly downed it without even a grimace at the stout taste. Jumping out of bed, she reached down and sorted through a pile of clothes on the floor, coming up with a pair of shorts and a tank-top. After quickly dressing, she rummaged through the cluttered surfaces of the room in search of more alcohol. Just a little to take the edge off, so she could focus and figure out her next move.
Her mind was already starting to fill in the missing pieces. They lived in Maryland, not Vegas, so the only way she could’ve gotten married at night while she was drunk was if Julian had paid someone off. That kind of sneaky under-handing was just his style.
The bastard, she thought, coming across a miniature bottle of tequila. Her hands shook as she cracked open the bottle and drank it in one gulp. The two shots together finally made her thoughts slow down, and she started plotting a way out of this.
Moving on autopilot, she hurried around the room, grabbing her clothes and shoving them into her duffel bag. Digging Julian’s wallet out of the jeans draped across a chair, she counted out ten hundreds and took half, muttering a guilty apology to his sleeping form as she did. Then she found her keys and stopped only long enough to scribble a note on the hotel stationary. She wrote ‘sorry’ and left her ring lying on top of the notepad.
Then she was gone, without even stopping to think. She hurried down the sidewalk. In the dead of night, the only sound was the flapping of her flip-flops against the pavement.Pulling open her door, she jumped into her green Chevy Cavalier, tossing her bag into the passenger seat and took off without fastening her seat belt. As she watched the hotel shrink in her rearview mirror, she let out a slow breath of relief. Rolling her window down, she let the cool night air circle around her and fill her body with a temporary sense of relief. She was suddenly very grateful that Julian had thought enough ahead to bring both cars along when they ran away. The plan had been to drop her car off in Pennsylvania and then head down to Florida where they would blend in with all the summer tourists. Even if someone managed to track them down there, they could easily hop a boat and disappear again.
She’d never agreed to get married along the way, though, and now she needed to think up a new plan. Problem one solved for now. But now, she had a bigger problem.
There was nowhere for her to go.
As she approached the ramp to the interstate, she figured her first step should be to drive as far as she could.
Halfway across the state, she stopped to get fuel, both for the car and herself. After setting the gas pump to fill up, she sat back down and began to search through her duffel bag for something more comfortable to wear. Among the dirty laundry and cosmetic supplies, she saw a faded and word rabbit with long, floppy ears. She pulled Whiskers from her bag slowly, treating her with care. With the matted and frizzy soft pink fur and the few stains dotting it’s body, the stuffed animal may not look very important, but to her it was more precious than gold. The last remaining artifact of a time long ago, when she’d been just a regular girl with regular parents and two older brothers. Then, her parents were killed—in a robbery, so she’d heard, but no one had ever given her details. After that, her family, separated. Sam, her oldest brother, who was only eighteen at the time, stayed in their childhood home in Georgia and raised Chad. Cameron was sent to live with Anne and scarcely saw Sam and Chad after that. In fact, it’d been so long since Cameron had seen her brothers that most days she forgot she even had any, but now she was wondering if that might be the perfect place to hide.<
br />
It’d been three long, crisis-packed years since she’d seen them last and she wasn’t exactly itching to go knocking on their door, looking for a handout. Right now, she didn’t see another choice. The money she’d stolen from Julian would only get her so far.
She should call Sam, she decided. But first, she needed to think of what to say. So she went into the convenience store to look for snacks. As she tried to decide between Cheeto’s and Baked Lays, something in her pocket started to vibrate.
Realizing it was her cell phone, her entire body went stiff with tension. For a moment, she just froze, afraid to move. Then she realized she was on her own, now. No one could find her, let alone hurt her, so there was nothing to fear. And even though her mind seemed convinced, her body wouldn’t listen. With a shaking hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the phone.
On the small touch-screen, a picture of Julian announced his call. Taken last week, Julian smiled into the camera with bright, persuading charm that still, somehow, made her go a little weak in the knees. The phone buzzing in her hand, she stared at that picture, feeling a sudden surge of regret. Maybe leaving in the middle of the night wasn’t the best way to handle this surprise-marriage.
But no matter how charming Julian seemed, Cameron always reminded herself that it was only one side of a very dimensional, volatile young man. Sure, he seemed like a great catch. Hailing from a family of plastic surgeons, he was never hurting for cash and liked to flaunt it. Nature and genetics had blessed him with the handsome face of a model, and the rock-hard body to match. But he’d been spoiled since the moment he was born. Cameron grew up next door to him and saw firsthand how his dad leapt at the chance to cover up a DUI or drug possession charge. At twenty years old, he was now manipulative, calculating, and entitled. He thought he owned everything, and what he didn’t, he thought he could buy or win through mind-games. Creating a very dangerous wolf in sheep’s clothing. And now, she was married to him.
Reminding herself of these things, and the reasons she’d left, she let his call go to voicemail and put the phone away. Grabbing a bag of Cheeto’s, she walked over to the alcohol section, checking out their selection. If she ever had a vice, alcohol would be it. She loved the way it fuzzied her problems until they disappeared completely, and she needed a dose of that medicine after the night she’d had.
But she was driving, so she’d have to be careful. Instead of grabbing the 89 proof beer she wanted, she opted for a four-pack of margarita wine coolers.
Once she was back inside of her car, she put her seatbelt on and set her phone in the passenger seat, wedged under her duffel bag to muffle the sound of any future alerts. She waited until she was out on the highway again to open one of the wine coolers. She took a long drink and set it in the cup holder, then tuned her radio into a contemporary station and relaxed against the seat.
Realizing it felt good to have no one to answer to, to be on her own. To do whatever she wanted. No matter what happened in the future, or who caught up with her, she’d never let this freedom slip away. She’d lost enough, and she’d cling to this for the rest of her life.
While she drove, she cooked up a story to tell her brothers.Obviously she couldn’t tell them she’d been tricked into marrying her manipulative on-again, off-again boyfriend or that she’d been on the run before that.
Instead, she figured she’d feed them some story about waiting for college to start. It would give her a good two months to get a better plan underway, and also paint her in a different light. They didn’t have to know she was a chronic screw-up or that she’d dropped out of high-school three months before graduation, or that she’d failed almost every class. For all they knew, she was smart and goal-oriented and all of those other things she could’ve been, if she’d been dealt a different hand in life.
But she would need to come up with details, she realized. The name of the college, the subjects she planned to study. Taking another drink of her wine cooler, she tried to remember the name of a nearby college, and her new identity began to take form.
***
Just outside Victory Hollow, Georgia she stopped at a rest area to shower and change. Keeping it quick, she was finished in about five minutes and used the rest of the time to finish off her last wine cooler as she applied her make-up.
Staring into the mirror, she studied the purplish-blue bruise spreading from her left cheekbone to her temple. It was fading, but still tender and painfully visible. She wondered if her brothers would believe she ran into a door, or if she should make up a girl fight. Wincing slightly, she applied powder to cover the bruise and then made sure her hair covered what was left.
Taking a few minutes in front of the mirror, she practiced her smile, trying to upgrade it from this-is-so-tight-my-face-is-gonna-crack to I’m normal and without a care in the world. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her smile to actually brighten her expression. It didn’t reach her eyes.
Finally, she gave up.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top, she carried her make-up bag back to her car and sat down in the driver’s seat. Looking next to her, she saw her phone blinking and picked it up.
There were five text-messages from Julian, and several missed calls. She didn’t even get a chance to read all the messages before he was calling her again. Knowing she couldn’t have him doing this while she was trying to spin her new life, she decided it was time to take his call.
Hitting the answer button, she brought the phone to her. “Hey, Julian,” she said half-heartedly.
“Finally!” Julian’s voice boomed through the phone. “Where the hell are you?”
Hearing his voice, her entire body went tense. “Look, I don’t remember exactly what happened last night, but it was a mistake, okay?”
“That’s a familiar tune for you, isn’t it, Cammi?”
She blinked at the sharp sting of his words, but didn’t respond to them.
He was quiet a minute, waiting for her to explain or apologize and try to smooth this over. When she didn’t, he repeated, enunciating each word, “Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice quivering under the pressure of his tone. She half expected him to pop up behind her and announce he’d been following her this whole time. She wouldn’t put it past him. “It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, trying to focus. “Because I’m not coming back.”
An exaggerated, arrogant chuckle came through the phone. “Right.”
Flinching, she reached over and grabbed a cigarette out of her pack. After lighting it she said, “I mean it, Julian. It’s over.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”
“I’m not going back there.”
“Fine. We’ll go somewhere else. Anywhere you want.”
“No, Julian…” She took a long drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke out before continuing. “When I say I’m not going back there, I mean I’m not coming back to you.”
Hanging on to her last bit of courage, she waited for him to respond. But he was eerily silent.
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to smooth things over. She just couldn’t help it. His silence made her antsy and fearful, even over the phone. “I…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m just a total mess right now and I think it’s better for everyone if I just—”
“Damn it, Cammi,” he snapped, his harsh tone stopping her short. “You can’t just run off anymore. You’re my wife now.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to defend herself against his obvious scorn. But she’d never meant to marry him, and that meant it didn’t count. Whatever any licenses said or preachers said, she wasn’t married. It wasn’t a real marriage. “That was a mistake.”
“I’m not letting you out of this,” he said. “You haven’t even tried.”
“And I’m not going to,” she said, keeping her voice stern. “Julian, just go find someone else. You kno
w you’re hot. It wouldn’t take you five minutes.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” In his voice, she heard the hints of danger. In her mind’s eye, she could practically see his features ice over, his gaze turn steady and superior, his jaw clench as hard as a stone. “See, there’s this bag in my trunk.”
Her body turned cold as she slowly lifted her eyes to the rearview mirror. Looking into her reflection, she scolded herself silently. Why had she trusted him to destroy the evidence?
He chuckled, making it clear he was done playing nice. “And it has some bloody clothes that—what’s his name—detective Machado? I’m sure he’d love to get his hands on them. Now, I’m not much of a legal expert, but I think it’d make his case against you pretty solid. What do you think, Cammi?”
Her hand was shaking now, making the phone unsteady. Reaching forward, she pulled open the glove box and took out her emergency flask. Shaking it, she was relieved to find it full. She couldn’t remember what she’d put in it, but she didn’t care. She twisted off the little silver cap and took a drink, coughing a little at the harsh taste of bourbon.
“Aw, did I make you drink?” he said, his voice full of mock sympathy. “Guess I hit a nerve.”
“Do what you have to do,” Cameron said, fighting to keep her head up, when his tone made her feel pathetic, exactly like he meant for it to do. “I’m still not coming back.”
“Yes, you are. It may take a little time, but eventually you’ll come crawling back to me just like you always do.”
She quickly hung up the call, then held the button down until her phone powered off. Taking a few more drinks, she tried to calm down, but she couldn’t. Now her mind was racing with panicky thoughts again.
What if he did hand that bag over to the police and they found her? What if Julian found her first? She didn’t know which would be worse, but the feeling of impending danger made her not want to sit still. And even though her head was swimming a little from the bourbon, she started her car and pulled out of the rest area.
Another Life: Another Life Series #1 Page 1
