by Lisa Gerkey
Free Falling
Playing it Safe Series Book Three
Lisa Gerkey
Copyright © 2018 by Lisa Gerkey
All rights reserved.
Formatter and interior designer: Lisa Gerkey
Cover Imagery: Stock images from Depositphotos
Cover design by: Lisa Gerkey
Book design by Lisa Gerkey
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a 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 persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Due to strong sexual content and language, readers 18 and older, please. Certain themes and topics that may be touched upon may be considered as triggers for some readers.
Lisa Gerkey
Visit my website at: https://www.facebook.com/authorlisagerkey
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN-13:
978-1984925459
ISBN-10:
1984925458
Contents
Contents
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
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Chapter One
Josh
Most of the time, a long drive with the windows down, and the radio cranked is all I need to clear my head. Nothing gets me down for long. Fix it and move on is more my style, but this time I’m stuck with no easy way out—at least not a way where no one gets hurt.
Hurting people, especially a woman, is something I want to avoid.
As I head down I65, I keep changing the radio station. Every song reminds me of things I want to forget. I always swore I’d keep a smart head on my shoulders with women. Until recently, I’ve done a decent job. But, man, now I’ve fucked everything up, and I’m sitting here without a clue how to fix it.
I watched my parents jump from one relationship to another my whole life, and I can tell you, it’s no life for two young boys, but that was mine and my brother, Jeff’s life. Hell, our parents never had a relationship. They banged more than a screen door on a windy March day, but it wasn’t with each other.
Dad’s an alcoholic. He didn’t beat us, but when booze and crazy women are the most significant part of someone’s life, there’s always neglect. That’s my opinion, anyway.
I’m not comparing the occasional drinker with my parents. Even after growing up the way I did, I don’t mind having a good time now and then. At least I didn’t care too much until one of those good times blew up in my face. Every time I try to remember what I did that night, my stomach knots up, and I get sick. No matter how hard I work, I don’t remember.
About a month ago, my best friend, Jaycee, married the love of her life. She never picked up on it, but I had a thing for her. I thought our friendship might grow into something more, but it didn’t. I sat on the sidelines and watched while Grant Masters swooped in and stole her heart.
When the wedding rolled around, I knew Grant and Jaycee belonged together, but that didn’t keep my pride from being hurt a little bit.
After they tied the knot, they had a big celebration.
The next day, I woke up engaged to Staci Cline.
Staci and I hooked up a few times before that night. If I’m honest, it was more than a few times. We played together at The Grind, a classy sex club Grant opened a while back. I thought we agreed we wanted nothing serious.
Shit’s real damn serious now.
I remember having several drinks and a few shots of tequila, but I sure as hell don’t remember popping the question, or putting a big ass rock on Staci’s finger. She’s proud as hell of the ring. She’s on top of the world because we’re getting married. I’ve tried to put on a good show for her and our friends, but inside, I’m anything but on top of the world.
I watch through my rearview mirror as the dirt flies up when I turn down the gravel road leading to Dad’s place. I dread seeing the mess I’ll find this time.
Two big black dogs run out from behind the house to meet me when I get out of the truck. I stand in place while I look around at everything. The house where I lived a good chunk of my adolescent and teenage years is in good shape, better than the last time I was here. He’s done repairs and remodeling. The yard is clean, and the grass isn’t overgrown. Gives me a little hope what I find inside won’t be too bad. After I provide the dogs with a bit of attention and make sure they won’t bite my ass if I go any further, I make my way onto the porch.
“Dad! Anybody home?”
I rap on the storm door a few times and wait. His old pickup sits in the driveway, so unless he’s taken off with someone, he’s here.
Probably passed out.
I knock a second time and check the handle to find it unlocked. When no one answers, I ease the door open.
“Dad, you here?” I call out.
Everything is clean, and the furniture looks new. I don’t feel comfortable going further than the living room, so I go back outside to the small front porch and take a seat in a white rocking chair.
While I wait, I exchange a few texts with my brother.
It bothers me a little because I left Jeff to handle the tattoo shop alone. Running Colors is his dream. He worked his ass off to start it. I had nothing else to do with my life, so since we have the same artistic abilities, I joined him. It felt like the right thing to do. In my heart, I’ve always leaned toward finding a job where I can help people. Since I’ve saved every dime I’ve made from working at the shop, I’m in a position I can consider something different. Something separate from my brother. I love my brother and working with him is easy, but it’s time I make a few of my own dreams come true.
I read my messages and respond to everyone.
Everyone, except Staci.
I return my phone to my pocket and comb a few fingers through my hair. Everything’s different here. The quiet country air gives me a peace of mind I can’t get in the city. It’s an excellent place to think.
Do I love Staci?
Nope.
I’m not sure I know what love is. My heart doesn’t flutter when I’m with her. I care about h
er, and I’ve always respected her. We hooked up off and on, but we agreed that’s all it’d ever be between us. Until I woke up engaged to her.
I’ve told myself I can learn to love her. Come hell or high water, I’ll work at it until I fall in love with Staci. She’s at home, making wedding plans with her friends and her mother. That’s the reason I drove down here today. Staci knows how much I miss my hometown, so we agreed we’d have our wedding in a church here. We’ll have a small gathering. Our friends and family had no problem when we asked if they could drive down in a few weeks to watch us tie the knot.
A newer model sedan pulls into the driveway and parks beside my truck. My father gets out of the driver’s side and a woman about his age exits the passenger side. I barely recognize him. He looks healthy now.
Old memories come back when I see Clayton Maddox. They always do. Yet, I don’t hate him. He’s a sick man, an alcoholic. The disease isn’t easy to control.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, boy, must be important for you to drive all the way down here.”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you, I’m getting married in a few weeks, Dad. I came to talk to the preacher and make plans at the church where we used to go.”
“Well, son, I’m glad to hear you’re settling down and ready to start a family. You’re living a good life. I’m proud of you. Who’s the lucky gal? Anyone, I know?”
“Nah. I don’t think so. Her name’s Staci Cline. She’s from Nashville.”
“Any relation to Patsy Cline?”
I chuckle. Of course, he’d ask. I remember when he’d come home drunk. Usually, it was late at night, and he’d blast old country music on the record player he kept in the living room.
“No, I don’t think she’s related to anyone famous. Her father is a well-known attorney in Nashville. I think he works with a few ‘almost’ famous people, but I have no names to drop. Sorry.”
Dad chuckles with me and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Come inside and make yourself at home.”
“You going to introduce me to your friend, Dad?”
Everything inside the house has been changed, updated. I see no reminders of the years when I lived here. Mostly, it makes me proud.
“Ah, where are my manners? Joshua, meet my wife, Maggie. She and I go way back, son.”
Wife. Damn, I didn’t see that coming. I’m proud he isn’t alone though. I’m in no place to go judging the old man, that’s for sure.
Maggie seems uncomfortable when Dad introduces her. When he says they go way back, I wonder if she’s one of the many who passed through the revolving door when I was a kid.
“It’s nice to meet you, Maggie. Married, huh? Must’ve been a little sudden.”
Like what I’m about to do, I remind myself. Maybe Dad and I have more in common than I thought.
“Well, like I said we have a history, so it wasn’t sudden. A lot’s changed around here. I’ve been sober for close to two years now.”
It crosses my mind to ask why he couldn’t have made a few changes when I was a kid—when I needed a dad in my life more than I needed anything else. I don’t ask. I didn’t come here to dredge up the past and the mistakes he made.
“Can I get you something to drink? Joshua? Clayton?” Maggie’s looking for an excuse to escape.
“Sure. Anything is fine. And, please call me Josh.”
I take a seat on his brown leather sofa. Dad stands in place and looks at me for a few seconds before he sits in the matching recliner across from me.
“Tell me about your new wife, Dad? Is she from around here?”
“Maggie is Cora Hawthorne’s daughter. You remember the big farm on the other side of the county? You went there a time or two on a field trip when you were in elementary school. Hawthorne Farm had a big deal going on every fall with a corn maze and pumpkins. You loved going there.”
It surprises the shit out of me the old man remembers anything from my childhood. I have vague memories of the school trips he mentions. I remember a little girl, close to my age; we played together when I was there, and I recall the farm belonged to her grandparents.
“You said you and Maggie have a history?”
Dad exhales loudly. He grazes his hand over his salt and pepper covered head and takes a second deep breath before his eyes meet mine.
“Maggie and I have a rocky past. I wasn’t much of a dad to you and your brother. Maggie… well, she didn’t do much better with her daughter. When the time comes, we need all our kids present for this conversation.”
Great. Family secrets. Skeletons in the closet.
Just a little more to add to my confused mind.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, reminding me I haven’t talked to Staci since we left the apartment this morning, but I forget about the phone when Maggie comes back into the living room. “Here you go… fresh lemonade. It’s your father’s favorite. I thought you might like it too.”
“Have you heard from the egg donor?” The words slip out before I can stop them. I take the lemonade from Maggie, my eyes on Dad. I almost apologize for mentioning another woman in front of his new wife, but she must realize, for me to be here, there must be a mother out there somewhere. No, not a mother, but a vile, evil bitch who served as an egg donor—because she was never a mother.
“No, I have enough demons to keep under control without dealing with hers, too.”
He’s right. More than once, I’ve looked in the mirror and asked myself how the hell I’m even halfway normal with parents like mine. I can excuse some of Dad’s behavior because he also had to deal with the hell his first wife put him through.
Jeff’s a couple years older than me. Neither of us wanted to follow in our parent’s footsteps. We had good teachers and role models in school and the community, and we always attended school because it was the only place we didn’t have to deal with our parents’ messed up lives. We relied on each other. By the grace of God, we made it without too much damage.
Jeff graduated before me, but he hung around and worked on his apprenticeship at a local tattoo shop. We headed to Nashville when he finished. Our grandparents—Dad’s parents—left an inheritance behind for their grandchildren. Jeff and I pooled our money together to buy the spot that houses our tattoo shop.
Jeff has a few more issues than me. We couldn’t control much as kids, so now he keeps control over most everything in his life. Kat, his woman, handles his controlling ass and all of his demands well. They’re good together. After everything she’s been through, she needs someone else taking care of everything. Jeff is the perfect man for the job. Though I do wonder what might happen should Kat ever decide she wants some independence.
“I want to drive down to the church and look around a little. Who is the pastor now?”
I went to South Hill Church when I was a kid, and I continued to show up now and then until I moved to Nashville.
“You’ve said little about this young woman you’re planning to marry. Usually, when a man’s in love, he can’t stop talking about his little woman. Son, are you sure you’re ready for marriage?”
Dad completely ignores my question and starts in with me about something I’d rather avoid. I stand up from the sofa, keeping my focus on the floor. I can’t look at my father and answer his question without letting him see right through me.
“Son? I’ve been a bastard most of your life, but I’m not like that anymore. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen.”
I try to speak, but the words won’t come, so I clear my throat and try again.
“I don’t know. My life’s a little complicated right now. Staci and I are good together. It’s just…” I let my voice trail off, unable to tell him any more, perhaps unable to admit more to myself right now.
“Just what? Your heart belongs to someone else? Who broke your heart, son? You know getting married on the rebound won’t work out too well, right? Who is she?”
Fuck.
I’ve tried to ignore my feelings. I can’t. Even refu
sing to talk about it, doesn’t help. Believe me… I’ve tried to forget that night I spent with her.
They say when you meet that special someone, you just know. What happens when you meet her, but she vanishes into thin air before you have the chance to do anything about it?
Kennedy Powell.
She’s Jaycee’s little sister. She’s a troubled girl, and she’s trouble. I don’t need her problems in my life.
“No one, Dad. I’m marrying Staci. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Since you have your life together, I hope you and I can spend more time together. You’ll come to my wedding?”
“I’m sorry. It took a long time for me to change all the wrong I was doing with my life. I can’t get your childhood back and change any of that, but I’m here now, and I won’t miss your wedding… as long as you’re marrying the right woman.”
Chapter Two
Kennedy
My eyes fly open when I hear shouting outside the door. This motel is a dump in the shadiest part of town, but the rent is cheap. I toss the rough, dingy sheet to the side and get out of bed so I can tiptoe to the window.
Two guys stand beside a light-colored car. By their loud voices and from their posture and the way their hands are moving, it’s obvious they’re arguing. Drugs. Somebody fucked somebody else’s wife… who knows what their problem is?
My head hurts. Who the hell knows what I did last night? It wasn’t only alcohol, I’m sure. It never is. Most of the time, I skip the drink altogether.
I let the curtain fall back into place and turn to look across the room. My eyes fall on the bed to the stranger lying in the middle. He’s on his stomach with his head buried between his crossed arms, so I can’t see his face. I don’t remember his name or how he ended up in my room. Could’ve been the price I paid to get what I needed, or perhaps, I ran across him later. Doesn’t matter. I gave up trying to find the answers to why or how, a long time ago. It is my life. My fucked up life.
