by Unknown
The Way Home
Lights of Peril
Book Two
A.C. Bextor
Copyright © 2014 AC Bextor
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
Acknowledgements
Paul. My best friend, husband, and the man who talks me down from my chaotic thinking daily. Many times I wanted to just make the madness stop, but you never once allowed it. Thank you for making me stick to this and get it finished. I’m done writing… for now. You are my “enough.” Never doubt that.
Dallace – Thank you for all the notes you have left around my desk the past few months. I save them all. You were there with me through my crazy moments of disbelief, anger, and elation. You will always be my favorite person. A.L.W.A.Y.S.
My Dad – You can’t read this book either. You said you wouldn’t read them, so you better not. Your words of praise and encouragement helped me finish the story I wanted to tell and in the manner I wanted to tell it. Thanks for all your support and encouragement through all of this; it means a lot to me.
Courtney – My friend, you have been here reading my sentences before book number one ever published. Thank you for taking this journey with me, supporting me, and reading each word written before anyone else.
Amy – Alright, sister. After you witnessed a few meltdowns and panic attacks, you’ve earned a spot here. Thanks for listening to everything when this all started to consume me. Thank you for hosting my recent escapes to LEGO land.
Beta readers –
Samantha Price – Thank you for debating with me at every turn. You gave me a lot to think about and in doing so, made the storyline stronger. I don’t ever tire of hearing your thoughts and I promise to never punch you to get you to be quiet.
Chris Kovacich – Thank you for being my detail critique. I’m fairly certain there is nothing that gets by you and your pages and pages of suggested changes proves that. You made the story better.
Danielle Johnson –You are truly my own personal confidence bank. I had many doubts, terrified doubts, that I was doing the right thing. Your constant votes of praise gave me the relief I needed to breathe a little easier. Thank you, so so much.
Renee Taft – You are the ideal reader. It was as if you were reading it with the eyes of every other person. Thank you for your honest feedback and your eagerness to help me finish.
Dana Hook - Proofreader – After all my crazy thoughts were written, the beta readers filled gaps, and the editors made it smooth, you still found things to fix. Thank you for doing this with enthusiasm. Your honesty was so appreciated.
Editing and formatting by – Mary-Nancy Smith – marynancyseagleeyeediting.com. Thank you for holding my hand and explaining this one process at a time. This was my first editing experience and you took a lot of pressure off of me that otherwise would have left me in a bundle of nerves.
Cover design by Melody Simmons of ebookkindiecovers.com
There are a few of you out there that have marketed by book for no personal gain, just the love of the story. Several times I found myself tagged in posts, reviews on the internet, blogs, or you took the time to message or email me your thoughts. I don’t have words to tell you what this means to me. Many times I’ve had to stop and take a breath at your generosity and willingness to allow the books to take up spaces in your libraries. So many of you to name, but most of you know exactly who you are and have heard from me in appreciation. Thank you.
Note to the Readers
You are everything that makes this journey a personal success. The constant emails, messages and postings pushed me forward and gave me the courage to make this sequel everything I wanted it to be.
You stuck with me even during my learning experiences. (Holy crap, there were some brutal lessons to be learned.) There are no words; nothing I could put in print that would ever be enough to give you for allowing me to take a chance and put my work out there for the world to see. I can only hope that with this book, I’ve given your beloved characters the happy ever after that you feel they deserve.
Thank you.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my Grandmother, Bernice.
Rest in peace.
I love you, Granny.
Description
Book Two - Lights of Peril, The Way Home should be preceded by Book One - Lights of Peril, Holding On.
This is not intended to be a stand-alone novel.
Where do you begin to piece back the fragments of a shattered heart?
“I’m letting you go today, it’s time.”
Finally, Sadey is ready to say goodbye to the only man she’s ever loved. With the help of Shame and Mace she’s learning to breathe on her own again; one day at a time.
Her hopes are high and her world is finally coming into focus.
Until someone from her past comes back to help her heal, bringing with him more heartbreak and confusion than she could have ever believed possible.
Ace loves her. For six months, he’s watched her suffer from a distance, knowing it wasn’t his place to see her through this, but no matter the risk, he won’t stay away.
“Sadey, I’ve missed you, okay? I’ve thought about you. I missed being here, do you understand that? I’ve missed being around you, touching you, holding you, and laughing with you. I missed you before I even left town that night. You chose Hem, not that it was any kind of competition, but you were with Hem. I was never even given the consideration.”
Emotions are high as further truths of betrayal are exposed, leaving everyone to pick up the pieces once again.
Authors note: This novel contains material that is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. Content includes: drug use, explicit language, violence, rape, and other scenarios with content that readers may find offensive. Please use caution when deciding on this book, as every reader has the right to understand the product before purchase.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Epilogue
Prologue
Six months after Hem’s funeral
Sadey-
Memories are what haunt me. They often come at the worst times, usually when I’m alone without anyone to distract me.
“Sadey, you write this?”
“No.” Oh man, I’m gonna be in trouble.
“Just tell me the truth. Looks an awful lot like you did. You’re
the only girl I know that dots her I’s with little hearts. Did you?”
“Fine. Yeah, I wrote it, Patrick. Mace told me not to give it to you ‘cause you would say it was yucky and that I’m only fourteen and shouldn’t be writing stuff like that.”
“Sugar, you are only fourteen and if I find you writing another letter like this and givin’ it to any other boy, I’m goin’ to whip your ass.”
“Sorry.” I’m embarrassed and don’t want to look at him.
Patrick bends down and hugs me tight, I smell him. He smells of soap and nasty drinks. He runs his hands through my hair and then pats me on the head like I’m a dog.
“Go outside and play, okay?”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll go outside and play.”
“That’s my Sadey girl.”
That was the first time I ever wrote anyone a love letter. I had just turned fourteen, he was twenty four. I don’t think he understood the importance of it.
Chapter One
“Keep right on lying to me. That's what I want you to do.”
-Ernest Hemingway
“Sadey, are you about ready? You don’t want to be late for this interview. Gramma is pretty strict on tardiness and it wouldn’t make for a good impression.”
God above, if you are listening to me right now, Mace Cash is driving me crazy with her constant nagging and mothering routine. Please keep the witch still for just a little while so I can have some peace.
My friend is always trying to push me past this. Until recently, I’ve ignored her attempts to straighten my life out, but the past couple of months I have given up and learned to start trusting that she’s probably right. I never needed to get out of this house more than I do now.
I’ve interviewed for some jobs in this small town and so far no one wants to hire me. They already know my story and have surely heard the rumors about my lack of healing. Well, not so much lack of healing, but more of my lack of ongoing sanity. Thus, business owners probably assume I’m half crazy. Unfortunately, I’d have to agree that they’d be right.
My big effort now is for Mace. I am attempting to earn a living and going on this interview with Gramma to work at the library with Peyton and Mace will help. It isn’t much, but it’s something. This will give me a starting point at least. The hours are decent and I have April and Cherry, who have both begged me, to leave Patrick with them when I’m away. Mace trusts them, so I do as well.
“Yes, I’m ready. Do you really think this is passable for library attire though? I’m kinda concerned that it isn’t exactly the outfit I should be wearing to an interview.”
She’s not happy with my comment because she hand-picked this mess out herself. I’ve been out of my pajamas for about an hour and already I’m wishing to be in them again. This should definitely tell me something about my mental state, but in my own defense, even on a good day, what woman doesn’t enjoy snuggle pants with no waist constraints?
“How would you know? You haven’t been out of your flannel pajamas long enough to know if these are going to make the right impression or not. You’ve only had Patrick to impress the last few months, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Would you just have a little faith in your oldest friend?”
“Thanks for the jab, Mace. I still cannot believe you actually threw my favorite fashions in the bonfire last weekend. What were you thinking? I am holding out hope you’re lying about that and I will see them again, damn it. I don’t suffer from pajama withdraw yet, but I might if you don’t give them back.”
“Fashions? Oh, honey! No, they are gone. I told you I wasn’t lying. Those weren’t clothes. Good grief! They were worn by you enough they could have walked themselves into that bonfire. It was almost a fashion suicide. Could have been a lot more tragic, too, had I not just tossed them in without a second thought. Now get your ass moving and let’s go already. I’m not about to sit here and continue to argue with you about the fact that those flannels made your ass look big and your boobs look small.”
Mace has always been jealous of my body, but more so now. Not only have I lost all the baby weight, but now I’m the size I was before we went to college. She’s still carrying Ryder, in his last trimester, and her stomach is huge. She doesn’t get the luxury of the depression diet. That’s just for me. Shame tries to tell her she’s beautiful at any size. Too bad she doesn’t hear him when he says it. She’s beautiful though, even sporting her motherly figure.
I mutter ‘bitch’ at her as I walk past April into the kitchen and straight to Patrick, who is sitting in his vibrating baby chair, for my kiss goodbye. It isn’t fair. He’s wearing his pajamas and no one is criticizing him about it.
Kegs, aka April, is staring at me as I reach to pick him up. She has told me recently that she’s concerned for me and she has a crazy idea in her head that I may not be bonding with my son as she thinks a loving mother should. I’m wondering how she would know this. My friend has no kids and she’s still single. As soon as she loses the love of her life and is left with his son who mirrors his image, then we can have this discussion. Until that happens, I have told her I’m not listening to anymore of that.
I’m connecting with him the best I can, be it only as a loving mother who has lost her parenting partner. It’s a weak excuse, even as I think it, but at least I can recognize it. I love my son, of course. I do. I’m just still working through some of my feelings of how to handle our future, alone, without Hem.
“April, I will be back in a while. Do not over-feed my little simian. He will stare at you in wait for you to give into him. He’s stubborn. Do not let him play you or I’ll have to deal with the consequences later. And you’ll have to deal with those consequences. You know how I can get, too. I won’t just enjoy his tummy ache alone. Someone will be coming over to settle him, namely you.” I smile at her so she knows I’m only half playing with her.
She’s staring at me, but gives me a soft nod. At least she acknowledges my instructions. I grab my son, giving him a big squeeze and a kiss on the head before putting him back in his favorite chair so he can prepare for his bottled breakfast.
As I had taken my eyes off April for just one damn nanosecond, I apparently missed the fact that she has been coming to me, at full speed. I don’t have time to turn away. Damn, it’s too early for this.
She grabs me around my neck and pulls me to her, nearly knocking me off balance. “I’m glad you’re trying, Sadey. I’ve missed you. Don’t worry about Patrick. I’ve got him. Go and get yourself a job. When you get home I will ask Honor to watch Patrick one night so we can celebrate.”
Seriously, April, we’re going to celebrate? I haven’t had anything to celebrate in a while, but I’m not about to get into that with her before I leave. Besides, this is just a passing position until I find something better, long term. Mace is rolling her eyes because she knows I’m stalling for time.
I pull back from April, look her in the eye, and then I lie right to her face, “Okay, sounds perfect. Let’s plan it. I’ll see you two in a bit. You have both our numbers should you need anything, so don’t hesitate to call me. The number to the library is also on the fridge, yellow sticky note.”
“Sadey, I wasn’t kidding. Let’s go.” Mace is always so impatient with me. Damn… give a girl a minute.
“Everything looks wonderful, Sadey. I’m very happy to have you with us.”
Gramma, formally known as Betsy, is smiling at me as if I just accomplished something no one else ever has. Good grief, it’s a library, people. How hard can it be to move a few books around and call it a day? Whatever, I’m thankful for this job if for no other reason than to have my dear friend off my ass.
“Thank you, Gramma. I’m happy to be here and I’m glad you are confident that I can do a good job for you.”
I’m still sounding enthused, but I cannot wait to drop the facade and slip back to my new pajama pants calling for me at the house. I make a quick mental note that I need to find a place to lock them down to avoid another fashion
massacre.
“Don’t be silly. You girls are my girls. After, Jerry, my husband passed last winter, I thanked my stars I had all you girls to keep me busy. You know I’m here for whatever you need.”
She rubs her hand up and down my arm while she’s talking to me. She certainly does connect with me on a maternal and emotional level.
“Alright, well, I’ll see you first thing Monday morning, then. Thank you, Gramma.” I’m relieved we are done here.
I pull my phone out of my purse now that the interview is over so I can text April, letting her know we’re finished and we’ll be home after lunch. Mace is insisting to take me to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I’ve never been known to turn that invitation down. I wonder if pajamas are within their dress code.
A few times during the past six months I’ve gone in for takeout. I never stay in and eat. I’m not used to leaving Patrick for long periods of time and I’m guessing he’s either dealing April a fit right now or she’s allowed him to bully her into more than his share of morning formula. He’s only a little over two months old, but I can already see his father’s caveman tendencies kicking in. When he wants something and someone tells him no, there’s always going to be hell to pay.
Walking towards the office door where Mace told me to find her after my talk with Gramma, I can hear Peyton and her snickering at something in conversation. I realize how much I have missed sharing those kinds of moments with friends. Being carefree and having fun hasn’t been part on my life recently, and it should be. I find myself coming around to those thoughts with regret. I know I’m getting better; it’s just taking me more time than people in my life find acceptable.
“Hi, Sadey. I’m so happy you are going to work here now, girlfriend! We are going to have some F-U-N working together.” Peyton has already been alerted of my recent employment status, so the ride begins.
