The Essential Elements: Boxed Set

by Elle Middaugh

  The Essential Elements

  Boxed Set

  Elle Middaugh

  Elemental Secrets Copyright © 2016 Elle Middaugh

  Elemental Lies Copyright © 2017 Elle Middaugh

  Elemental Betrayal Copyright © 2019 Elle Middaugh

  The Essential Elements Boxed Set © 2019 Elle Middaugh

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing: Editing by C. Marie

  Cover Design: Covers by Combs

  Contents

  ELEMENTAL SECRETS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  ELEMENTAL LIES

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  ELEMENTAL BETRAYAL

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  20. Holden

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  27. Cade

  Chapter 28

  29. Cade

  Chapter 30

  31. Cade

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also By Elle Middaugh

  CONNECT WITH ELLE MIDDAUGH

  ABOUT ELLE MIDDAUGH

  ELEMENTAL SECRETS

  Prologue

  It was happening again.

  Salt hung heavy on the breeze as it whipped my hair across my face. The night was dark and heavy with clouds, threatening rain. A chill that was uncommon for early autumn settled all around the pier. The dim lights of the awaiting ship could be seen off in the distance.

  I rubbed at my eye to keep a tear from sliding down my cheek.

  “I’ll miss you Dad.” The words came out as a sorrowful melody. I sniffled in a pathetic attempt to postpone the inevitable tears. A sob wracked my chest, but I cut it off before it could reach my throat. “I just wish Mom were here.”

  He sighed regretfully, and I could see my pain echoed in his eyes. “I do too,” he said, and immediately cleared his throat to cover the emotion hanging in his tone. “You’ll do well in school this year?” The subject change was abrupt and intentional. He didn’t like talking about my mother in the past tense.

  I nodded and forced a tight smile.

  “I love you, Valerie. I’ll be back before we know it.” He kissed the top of my head then slowly backed away. When he turned to face the pier, the first drops of rain began to fall.

  Frozen in place, I watched him stride toward the ship until he disappeared into the night. Tears streamed freely down my face for I don’t even know how long, soaking me to the bone more than the stinging raindrops, pouring down mercilessly.

  Another year full of loss and confusion, loneliness and despair. Another deployment.

  It was happening again.

  And it hadn’t been calling for rain.

  Chapter One

  I was lost. Tossing and turning and thrashing to no avail. I couldn’t wake up.

  She was singing quietly along with a song on the radio. Knuckles white, she grasped the steering wheel and focused intently on the wintry road before her. I sat tensely in the passenger seat and watched as the scene unfolded.

  Laden with heavy snow, the trees bowed into a canopy above the road. It wasn’t currently snowing, but a massive storm had just moved out, and the plow trucks hadn’t made it this far into the country yet.

  There was a curve in the road up ahead, angling sharply downward. A momentary break in the tree line on the right offered a view of the rolling hills and valleys of the Appalachians.

  I could see it. I didn’t know how. There was at least half a foot of snow covering the entire roadway, but I could see it. Ice.

  “Mom,” I warned warily. “Slow down.”

  She never even glanced my way, just continued to sing timidly as she took in her surroundings.

  “Mom, that turn is a sheet of ice. You’ve got to slow down.”

  She took a deep breath and checked the rearview mirror.

  “Please!” I shouted, fear freezing my blood. “Stop!”

  But of course she couldn’t hear me; I wasn’t really there. I never had been, and yet somehow I evoked this scene more precisely in my mind than any physical memory.

  She finally applied more pressure to the brake, but it was too late; we were already sliding. “Look out!” I cried as I braced myself for the impact of the trees. Mom wasn’t so lucky.

  Confusingly, I suddenly found myself outside of the car, standing petrified in the erratic tracks of the tires. It was one of those dream elements that made no sense.

  The front end crinkled like a paper bag as she hit the first tree. If that had been it, my mother would have lived. As it happened, the initial collision thrust the car around in a wide circle and it veered straight toward that single empty outcropping between the trees. She dropped over the cliff before I could even gasp.

  Adrenaline surged like electricity through my nerve endings, jolting my legs into motion. The distant sound of shattering glass and crunching metal echoed through the woods. My footing was sure and unfazed despite the ice. I reached the edge just as the ferocious boom of the explosion assaulted my ears, and I watched the car erupt in hot flames and putrid black smoke.

  The ungodly scream that tore from my lips was what finally woke me.

  I jerked into a sitting position so quickly I nearly left my skin behind me. My heart hammered as my blood rushed. My breathing was ragged and shallow. A sheen of sweat covered my skin with a ghostly glimmer as pale morning sunlight crept in through the bedroom window.

  It was six fourteen on
Wednesday morning, time to get ready for school. I dragged a shaky hand across my dampened face and exhaled, willing my body to relax.

  It was just a dream, but that consolation was bleak.

  From the nightstand, my cellphone began blasting my favorite song as a wakeup call. It was unexpected, even though I should’ve remembered it was coming, and a new wave of anxiety rushed in.

  If this was any indication of how my first day was going to go…

  The threat was pointless, because it didn’t matter; there was nothing I could do. I was going to school, and I was going to be the new girl at Center Allegheny for the third time.

  Transferring schools was never a fun endeavor in general, let alone a month into senior year. I was no stranger to the process, but each year proved just a little more difficult than the last. Fitting in wasn’t high on my agenda, and so I didn’t.

  The navy had inadvertently screwed up my social interaction skills. I had apparently missed the memo on how to make friends in the first place. Relationships, therefore, had to happen to me, because apparently I misunderstood how to cultivate them myself. For instance, if my dad made a friend at work, he’d then introduce that man’s wife to my mother. If they hit it off, the children would get thrown into the mix. These ‘friends’ would come over for cookouts, movie nights, birthday parties, and whatever else.

  Outside those parameters, social interaction became a sort of panic-stricken endeavor where I was all too aware of my incompetence. If we moved, I’d wait for my dad to introduce me to my new friends. When he deployed and friends were no longer handed to me in prettily wrapped boxes, I simply didn’t make friends. Ultimately, I learned to steer away from the whole premise entirely. It was just easier that way.

  There was only ever one girl who I considered a true friend, one that spanned the ages and withstood the tests of time: Sienna Aeris. We still tried to keep in touch via social media, but life had a tendency of getting in the way. Last I’d heard, her family was stationed in Georgia. It had been seven years since we’d spoken face to face, and I didn’t have to do the math on that to remember that the last time I’d seen Sienna, my mother had still been alive.

  I showered the icy nightmare off my skin then brushed my straight white teeth and my straight blonde hair. I then studied myself in the mirror. Starkly alert pale blue eyes stared back at me, and luckily there were no bags underneath. Sighing, I smoothed my hair one more time and then nodded.

  I would show up, keep to myself, and then shoo off.

  At least, that was the plan.

  Chapter Two

  The glass doors in a long row at the front of the building were propped open and students were streaming in freely. Most of the kids talked amongst themselves and paid me no mind. Some acted like they wanted to say something to me, but my adamant aversion to their glances kept them at bay.

  A breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding escaped as I crossed the threshold. The office was directly to my right with a single frosted-glass door for both entry and exit. I went inside and stood at the long countertop that stretched the length of the little room, cutting it in two. A few women busied themselves on the other side, answering phones, filing papers, talking with a couple teachers. I took a steadying breath and waited.

  “Valerie?” asked a plump woman with slightly graying hair. She remembered me, of course. “Come on over here, sweetie.”

  I walked to the far right of the counter, smiling politely.

  “Here’s your schedule, sweetie,” she said as she handed it over. “Do you remember how to find your way around?” It was a silly question as the school was quite small.

  “Yes ma’am,” I replied as I gazed at the list.

  The woman watched curiously as I assessed my classes. “We received an email from your previous school detailing the elective classes you preferred. Many of them didn’t match up exactly, but we did the best we could. Does it look all right to you?”

  What she was saying was, on top of the required curriculum, they had added extra English classes (Poetry and Creative Writing) and an art class (Painting). I smiled. “Yes, that’s perfect, thank you.”

  “Wonderful,” she exclaimed, looking genuinely pleased. “You have homeroom with Mrs. McConnell; that’s your English teacher. She’s located on the second floor, and you’ll find your locker in that general vicinity. It’s number two-hundred thirty-eight.” She scribbled it on a small slip of paper, then handed it to me. “Have a good day, sweetie.”

  I forced a warm smile. “I’ll try, thanks.”

  I readjusted the bag on my shoulder and turned back toward the door. It opened right as I reached for it, and another student walked in.

  Cade.

  My breath caught and my blood suddenly surged with adrenaline. The intensity of his emerald green gaze mixed with the soft, drifting spice of his cologne was inebriating. Recognition blazed across his face as he threw me the most enthralling smile I’d ever seen. I was no longer breathing.

  He licked his lips, as if he was about to actually say something, then blinked. Suddenly, the smile faded, and the fire in his eyes was reduced to a smolder. He stepped aside in one smooth motion and made way for me to pass.

  I exhaled quickly and ducked into the throngs of the other students. Heart still hammering away, I rushed to my locker. The pace in my step was unintentionally accelerated, fueled by the lingering adrenaline in my system.

  Teetering into a panic attack was never a good way to make a positive impression, which I did want to make, even if I didn’t necessarily want friends. It didn’t matter that I’d met these very same students just a few years before, that I still remembered almost all of their names, and that they clearly remembered me. Time had a sly way of changing people that forced you to meet and re-meet them over and over.

  I opened the old metal cabinet then rummaged through my bag.

  “Hi.”

  I glanced to my left before removing a combination lock, notebook, and pencil. “Hi,” I replied, still a little winded. David Knoll. The distaste in my tone had nothing to do with the fact that he had pimples and glasses and greasy hair. I just didn’t want to actually converse with anyone. I hung the bag and shut the door.

  “I remember you,” David said matter-of-factly.

  I smiled and spun the lock. “That’s nice.”

  He poked his nose back into his locker, and I ran for the door to homeroom.

  Mrs. McConnell sat at the head of the classroom checking her email. She clicked away, never once lifting her eyes to my face. “Valerie Moore? Take a seat at the end of the first row, please.”

  The end of the row? I almost groaned out loud. It was easier to keep to myself if I was in the front. I could force myself to stare straight ahead; unfortunately, I couldn’t force anyone else to do the same. Heads turned as I passed and gawked at me as I sat. Great. Luckily, everyone kept talking so there was at least no awkward silence.

  “Look who’s back,” a prissy voice muttered, loud enough for me to hear. I glanced her way and raised an eyebrow.

  Loren Marlowe. I should’ve known. That girl had had it out for me since the moment I’d arrived six years before. Apparently I was too much competition or something? I didn’t know. Even now, after I’d so thoroughly proven that I had no desire to compete, she still hated me.

  But, while making friends might not have been my forte, I wasn’t a pushover. I would stand my ground in the face of intimidation and disrespect, if it came to that.

  “What are you looking at?” she sneered, blue eyes glaring.

  “Absolutely nothing,” I replied, my words laced with poison.

  She got the insult and glared at me. “Likewise.”

  “I didn’t ask.” If that was the best she had, I’d take it. She looked away quickly, her brown hair fanning out around her. She was the most substandard stereotypical mean girl ever.

  The bell rang a few minutes later.

  “Don’t mind her,” another girl, Sharon, said as w
e filed out of the room. She was one of Loren’s minions. “She’s just jealous.” She winked, then walked down the hall in the other direction.

  I wasn’t so sure I was doing such a great job of flying under the radar this year, and there were still eight actual periods left. Hope deflated in me like a popped balloon. I just wanted to be left alone.

  The morning classes flew by in a blur, but I did take some valuable information away from each one.

  In Calculus, I learned that Jimmy Reynolds was not-so-secretly meeting up with Ashley Gadson behind Trisha Burbank’s back. Seriously, if you don’t like your girlfriend, just break up with her. Don’t be an ass and cheat.