Christina (Daughters #1)

by Leanne Davis

  As it is right now. This is the most critical situation of my life, and I just stand there. Stupid. Silent. Crying in muted shock. I act like such a fucking girl.

  I think I must be catatonic. My stomach is jittery. My hands are shaking. I suddenly run through the empty hallway, past the closed office doors, and hit the elevator button half a dozen times. Hot tears course down my cheeks and fall off my face. I rub them dry, but more follow. I am sobbing as I lean against the wall, waiting, and wanting to scream for the elevator to hurry up and come. I glance back, panicked he’ll pursue me. I can’t even look at him anymore. I may never, ever be able to look at Sam’s face again.

  Sam…

  The thought of him makes me lean over and grasp my stomach with both hands. Oh God, it hurts so bad. So damn bad! My stomach cramps relentlessly. My hands are fisting and unfisting. I am trembling everywhere.

  Finally! The elevator door dings and opens. I jump inside and push the close button in compulsive, crazy swipes. I know it won’t make it go any faster, but I want it to close now! I cannot face Sam. I can’t talk to Sam. Never again, can I see Sam the same way.

  His face is swimming and floating through my brain. Our entire marriage, hell, our entire life history, flashes with familiar memories. The pain caused by all the images overwhelms me, and I have to stifle the miserable moan that escapes my lips.

  I got off duty early. We were having a hard time of late. I wanted to see Sam. I wanted… I don’t even remember what I wanted now. I think I wanted to talk. I was hoping to work some things out. I think I was coming there to make some kind of peace. In neutral territory. My head feels so foggy. My reasons feel like they belong to another person, maybe even to another life. In one second, the amount of time it takes to shove a door open and peek into a room is how long it takes for my entire life to be turned upside-down. Etched in my memory forever is the moment before I opened the door, and the moment afterwards. One moment I was married, the next moment, I was not. That, for me, is what this means.

  Still, the shock hasn’t totally set in. I can’t even fully comprehend what happened. I can’t process it.

  Sam is cheating on me.

  There he was, lodged between a blond girl’s legs. He was pushing himself into her. His face was intense, scowling, and hard. He was so mean-looking, I didn’t recognize him, even before he realized I was standing there. It was close to ten seconds before he sensed my presence. Just seconds. They might as well have been ten hydrogen bombs going off. Ten seconds that lasted forever.

  The woman’s back was toward me. She was half reclining, providing better access for my husband’s deep thrusts. Her body shook with his movements. She moaned, wrapping her legs around him. I couldn’t see his dick, thank God, or that…. that might have ended me forever! But I saw him moving inside her. That was enough.

  Then his face lifted just a fraction of an inch as his eyes darted toward the door. Toward where I was standing. His eyes met mine, and in that second, our entire history flashed through my head. And all I could do was stand there, numb, finding it hard to believe I was actually witnessing that. No. Never. Not Sam.

  But it was Sam.

  I shut my brain down. No. Not now. I’ll face this later. So much later. I am too frantic now. I run across the parking garage after exiting the elevator. I scramble into my car and tear out of there. I arrive at our house and unlock the front entry, but stand there for a second. The silence makes me remember. Sam left his signature when he decorated it. He made sure after we moved in to have the floors redone and kitchen updated. He insisted we have it all color-coded and upscale, to match his prospective career, and the ideal and image he foresaw himself embracing.

  I stand here now, realizing the only thing in Sam’s life that never lived up to what he foresaw, is me. I never could fit into what he wants. The power, prestige, and the image he wants to attain demanded perfection. He wants to belong to a class of people I don’t even like. He wants to be someone. Someone important, influential and sought after. He wants senators and judges and rich CEOs to call his friends and peers. He wants respect. The kind of respect that my adulation and love cannot provide for him.

  He wants this home to reflect those ideals. I never really cared. I simply viewed it as a nice place to live. I don’t get his perfectionist ways, but I let him pursue them. I thought I was letting him be the man he needed to be. Turns out, that just kept my personality from being reflected in the house.

  I must represent failure to Sam, since he could not turn me into his idea of perfection. His working class wife, the cop. I wear a uniform and don’t intend to ever change that. I don’t have a bunch of kids at home to take care of, or a prestigious career instead of having kids at home. He wants kids. That is part of being his ideal wife. He never fully admitted it, but I know that’s what Sam always envisioned having in his life.

  I was never what he planned or dreamed of. I think I always knew that. I couldn’t fit into his life, so perhaps, we would have ended up here no matter what.

  I feel cold now. All my tears have dried. I have no more words. My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and I cannot articulate anything, even if the need arises. I start moving through our house, but I don’t feel any attachment to it. I grab the baseball mitt displayed on the mantel. It was my grandpa’s. I grab some photos. I dig out my suitcase from the spare room closet and start filling it with my bland undergarments and clothes. Jeans. Sweats. T-shirts. Sweatshirts. A few blouses and stylish shirts and jackets. I also grab sneakers and flats and some coats. I can’t think of what I need. I quickly strip from my uniform and grab a pair of jeans to wear. I’m slipping a t-shirt over my head when I suddenly stop and stare around.

  Where the fuck am I going?

  I don’t know. But staying here is not an option. It feels too much like Sam. All of it feels like nothing but Sam to me now.

  Seeing my parents isn’t an option either. Mom died a few years ago and Dad is in a nursing home. He doesn’t remember me anymore. He’s got dementia. I visit him every week, but if I didn’t? He wouldn’t even know. So I can’t run to him.

  There are a few friends, but all of them know Sam. They are all our friends. Everyone knows Sam who knows me. There is no one else to go to.

  There is no real family for me. Just Sam’s family. The Fords adopted me as their honorary daughter since the time I was five years old and first met them. That was when I first met Sam.

  No. I clamp down on that thought. No reminiscing. No thinking about poor, little Sam, or poor, little me. No thinking about what I lost today. No thinking. Just moving on. Leaving. Running.

  I sit on the bed and wrap my arms around my chest. I have to get out of here. Sam will come back and beg and plead and be sorry. Or he’ll tell me he’s in love with that woman, and didn’t know how to tell me. I don’t know which scenario is worse for me. But I do know I can’t handle either one. I can’t hear either excuse coming from Sam’s lips.

  I stand up and grab my suitcase and purse. I haul it all to my car before roaring down the street.

  Wait. There is… family. A distant family. I don’t even know them. But a girl came looking for me last year who fully believed she was my sister. I have no sisters. No brothers. I have no one left. Now that Sam’s out of the picture, I have no one. I have never felt so lonely or vulnerable in my life.

  But there is a family, albeit, complete strangers to me, but we might be biologically related.

  Christina Hendricks. That was her name. The girl was all of eighteen when she first found me. But I had to give it to her; it was a ballsy move, coming after me on her own, without her mom.

  Sister. I never allowed myself to wonder about that. Or even think about her again. She said there were two more. Meaning, I might have three sisters?

  What could that possibly change for me? I don’t know. I just need somewhere to go. And maybe something to do. Something to think about that isn’t related to Sam. That doesn’t involve my husband and that woman scre
wing him on top of his desk.

  No. I won’t think about that anymore.

  I turn my car around and start across the Golden Gate Bridge North. I’m heading towards Seattle, Washington State. I have no idea where in Washington state though. Ellensburg. I think that was the name of the city Christina mentioned. Is that right? I hope so. I hope that was the name. Christina said it to me in a rush, when she invited me to come see her. That’s all I have to go on. A place and a last name. I hope to God something comes of it. I have no idea what I’m going to do. Should I go there? I don’t know. At least, it’s far away from here. And even further away from my heart, my wrecked life, and my lost love. It’s a good distance from Sam Ford.

  I just know I can’t be here now. Maybe I can’t ever come back here again.

  If you would like to keep reading stay tuned to my website for a release date of Natalie.

  Melissa (Daughters, #3)

  I’m pretty sure I’m adopted, no matter how many times my parents claim otherwise. My sisters are smart, successful and athletic. Me? Not so much. I can’t concentrate; and I can’t perform well in school or on a job. I’m pretty sure I’m not even all that smart. I really don’t know exactly what is wrong with me, but something definitely is. Everything is unsettled inside my head while all my sisters seem to have everything all figured out.

  I’m convinced I’m the black sheep of the family.

  Seth Gifford, on the other hand, is quiet and bookish, the complete opposite of me. The son of my mom’s best friend, he is staying with us while attending college here. That means he lives with me. He’s well-liked by everyone except me. Trapped in close proximity, I start to see him in a new light and eventually begin to care about what he thinks of my crazy ways. Until then, however, no one’s opinion can influence me. Maybe, just maybe, I finally want to impress someone. But now I can only wonder how to make him see me. I’ve always suspected the tragedy of my life is: there really isn’t anything of value inside me.

  Emily (Daughters, #4)

  My mom’s life was riddled in pain that spilled over to my sisters and me. The pain of my mother’s life still affects me, despite all her attempts to conceal it. I love her. I admire her. I want to understand her. But mostly, I want justice for her. Even though she tells me she’s okay, and I need to let it go, I can’t.

  Let it go? How can I let it go, knowing such horror and evil still exist in the world?

  But what can I do? Having barely graduated college with a journalism major, I know how to tell other people’s stories, but the one I want to tell most of all is my mother’s. I have nothing to go on and even less information. The more I inquire about it, the less she’s willing to share. My parents would lock me in my room if they suspected what I want to do. But even that won’t stop me. Not if I can find a way. And then I meet Ramiro Vasquez, and learn some of his secrets, secrets that bind his family to mine. Sometimes, the past is not really dead. Sometimes, it can still destroy you and the ones you love most.

  My Other Titles:

  The Sister Series available to date:

  The Other Sister

  The Years Between

  The Good Sister

  The Best Friend

  The Wrong Sister

  The Years After

  River’s End Series:

  The Rydell River Ranch is a large horse training, boarding and breeding operation, owned and operated by four brothers who are left in charge of their century old legacy in the small, rural town of River’s End.

  River's End

  River's Escape

  The Zenith Trilogy:

  Share in the fall, rise and eventual fulfillment of the rock band Zenith’s destiny…

  Zenith Falling

  Zenith Rising

  Zenith Fulfilled

  The Seaclusion Series:

  The characters are all connected to Seaclusion, Washington a fictional town set along the Pacific Ocean.

  Notorious

  Secrets

  Seclusion

  My standalone novel: Diversions

  Jason Malone has spent his life being denied by his family. His father, the respected mayor of his hometown, has all but ignored his existence, while his drug-addicted mother has always caused him more harm than good. After being unjustly imprisoned for crimes that lead back to his absentee family, he is finally starting to get his life back together again.

  Until the day his estranged brother's fiancée walks into his life and changes everything.

  Christine Andrews is the dutiful daughter of a rich and powerful family, engaged to Trent Gallagher, her father's right hand man, and poised to join her father and Trent in running the empire her father has built. Until Christine discovers the existence of Jason Malone and suddenly she begins to doubt everything around her, including her fiancé.

  Christine becomes caught in a power struggle between the two brothers, but she soon realizes there is far more at stake than her heart, when one night everything is altered forever.

  About the Author

  I live in the rainy area of Western, Washington, and spend as much time as I can getting away from the rain by traveling to destinations all across the state where my family and I do tons of camping, boating, fishing, and horseback riding. Many of the locations we camp become the basis for my books. Most of my settings are fictional but are based on real places.

  I earned my business degree from Western Washington University. I worked for several years in the construction management field before turning to writing and being home with my kids.

  I love to hear from readers. Please contact me at: dvsleanne@aol.com

  Or through one of my sites:

  Website

  Facebook Author Page

  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Christina.