Indian Summer

by Eve L Mitchell

  Copyright © 2018 Eve L Mitchell

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review passages only. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines within this book are created by the authors imagination and are used fictitiously.

  Editorial services provided by First Read Editorial; www.joesephinebanksofficial.com/editing

  Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics LLC

  Cover Design: JJ’s Book Covers and Designs

  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

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  For Darren,

  for believing in me.

  Always.

  I have tried to stay true to the locations, schools, and landmarks of Boulder, Colorado. Any error that there may be in my descriptions, is entirely mine and my inability to use Google Maps properly. I have truly enjoyed my research of the state of Colorado and Boulder. I would dearly love to visit one day, Boulder has a special place in my heart.

  Please note that I am a British author and this book is written in British English. I tried to make this as universal as I could, but there will be some British phraseology and terminology that I can’t eradicate from my writing and I am ok with that, I hope you are too.

  I came home tired and angry at my boyfriend Connor. He had been an annoying jerk all night, so I had told him I was leaving the party before I left him for good. He’d glared at me and told me not to let the door hit me on the way out, which was the final straw for me.

  I had felt it coming for a long time and I think my own frustration at our relationship was making me short tempered. However, his brother and their friends were also my friends, which just made the whole situation more complicated. Connor, his older brother Colton, and their friends Matt and Theo. They were a unit - they came as a package and I had been part of that package for over two years.

  Connor was tall, he was lean and toned, he ran track in school and had an athlete’s body. Dark brown hair and light green eyes, with some gorgeous bone structure. He was seriously good looking and had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that made girls love him and parents sigh in resignation.

  When Connor had shouted to me about the door hitting me as I walked out, I hadn’t even hesitated. I was so out of there. I wasn’t stopping for anyone. I had glanced at Colton on my way out and had almost faltered at the brimming amusement in his emerald green eyes. However, I kept my head high, turned on my heel and marched out of there like a true drama queen. I instantly hated myself for that display as I truly detested drama.

  My friendship with them over the last two years had gained me the confidence I hadn’t known I was lacking. I knew I wasn’t unattractive - I had shoulder length dark brown hair that was almost black, an oval shaped face, grey eyes and full Cupid’s bow lips as my mother called them. I wasn’t tall, standing at 5’ 5”, but I was slender with some slight muscle tone in my arms. My lack of confidence hadn’t come from my looks – Connor and the others had simply brought me more out of my shell.

  Their friendship had also put me in touch with the fact that I had a fiery temper; actually, I could match Connor easily in the temper department. If I was honest, I wasn’t so proud of that fact. Matt liked to joke that I was feisty; Theo said if I wasn’t careful, I could turn out crazy; Colton had shushed them all and said I was spirited. Sometimes, I think Theo was more right than wrong.

  However, in general, drama wasn’t for me and I despised the girls who resorted to theatrics to get their boyfriends’ attention. I didn’t need Connor’s attention - I always had it; he didn’t have a wandering eye. He was one hundred percent loyal. He was also suffocating, demanding and a lot of hard work at times. As I said, the relationship between us had been strained for some time and I think we’d both just been waiting for it to end, or maybe I’d just been waiting for it to end. I was about to find out the extent of Connor’s possessiveness of me.

  Over the course of that week after the party, as I became more self-aware of the issue, I realised that other guys couldn’t look at me, talk to me or in some cases even pass me in the street. They weren’t allowed to. Only our close friends, Matt, Theo and of course Colton had been deemed permissible to talk to me. It made me feel ashamed when I realised, I hadn’t even noticed this. Before the guys, I had never really had a group of friends - I was always the girl who could chat to or sit with anyone. Most of the time I liked to sit alone with my head in a book; whether it was for school or just for me, I was happiest when I was reading.

  It seems I hadn’t noticed when Connor started sitting with me whenever I was talking to one of the other guys from class. I hadn’t thought anything of it. When those guys stopped saying hi to me in the halls, I hadn’t really noticed. When someone had asked me to switch as my study buddy in English Lit, I hadn’t put much thought into it. They had partnered with a girl who I knew they had a crush on, so I had stupidly thought they were finally making their move.

  When I found Connor beating Jason White to a pulp at football practice, Connor’s friend Ricky had caught me and held me back from interfering as Connor demanded an explanation from Jason as to what made him think he could talk to his girl. That’s what he kept referring to me as his girl.

  I remember shaking and pleading for Ricky to let me go. Colton, Matt and Theo had graduated and started freshman year at Berkley. That left Connor and me – and Ricky – still in our senior year. Connor’s one other close friend was Ricky. I didn’t spend much time with him, he wasn’t really part of the group. But with Colton, Matt and Theo all a year above us, Ricky was like a back-up friend for Connor. Harsh but true.

  I couldn’t believe this had been happening since Connor and I had been fifteen. Ricky had thought I was lying and so had others in my class when I cornered them and demanded of them if they knew. It seemed everyone at school thought I knew and had approved of his violent, Neanderthal-like behaviour. It was a guy in my history class that had uttered the most horrible truth; he had looked at me and sighed.

  “Of course, you wouldn’t notice – your head’s always in a book or you’re spaced out in your own thoughts. You’re never really with us, are you Elle?”

  I had been hurt. But he wasn’t wrong. Books were my guilty pleasure, my escape; when my parents fought, which was happening more and more often recently, a book and headphones were the answer. When Connor insisted that I join him and his family at the country club, a book kept me hidden from disapproving eyes, from looks that said I should be serving them, not lunching with them.

  As one classmate after another made me realise what had been going on for years, I had apologised to them all. Some had felt bad for me. One girl had even given me a hug I didn’t really deserve. Later that day, after the fight between Connor and Jason, I had sneaked out of school and made my way to the local medical centre. I had asked to see Jason
; his dad had come out to tell me to stay away from his son. I felt so guilty that I felt like crying all the way home.

  No charges were pressed against Connor; their dad, Jake Dawson, had reached into his deep pockets. I felt sick. I refused to talk to Connor. I wouldn’t answer calls or texts and my dad had turned him away from the door more than once, which he had been more than happy to do. Despite my repeated assurances that Connor had never physically harmed me, I still think my dad assumed that if Connor was abusive to others then he was abusive to me. Connor had no chance of getting in my house when my dad was home. My mum was a different story, she wouldn’t have cared, too busy drinking, thinking only of herself. Thankfully dad had been home each time Connor came to the house. I was sending the message; we were over.

  Later in the week, Colton had come home from Berkley at his father’s request to see if he could deal with his brother. Instead, he came to see me. Apparently, Connor was going ‘insane’ with me avoiding him and causing all kinds of trouble. Colton had been asked by his father to ‘fix it’ as the situation was becoming ‘exasperating’.

  I sat in my bedroom and looked at Cole who looked right back at me with an arched eyebrow. He had never been in my room and I wondered what he thought of my white walls and sky-blue curtains and bedspread. However, it was my shelves of books I knew Cole would have been entertained by. The fact I had all these physical books, crammed onto shelves that took up one wall of my room, would probably amuse him. He had bought me an e-reader for my 17th birthday. It had to be one of the best presents I’d ever received. I could carry hundreds of books around with me at any one time. Genius. Sometimes technology just blew my mind. However, that didn’t mean that physical books were obsolete.

  “Back in the room Ari.” Cole said.

  I jerked to look at him, realising that I had just zoned out again, just like everyone had told me I did. “Don’t call me Ari,” I muttered. Connor’s stupid insistence on calling me this had stuck since the night of my 15th birthday, to them I was either Ari or ‘Lil Bit’ – the latter because I was so ‘little bitty small’ compared to them. It was only now that I realised the reason why only Connor, Matt, Theo and Cole called me that was because everyone else was probably too scared to do so. I shivered. This was horrible.

  “Listen, Ari,” Colton cleared his throat, ignoring me as he was inclined to do when he didn’t want to listen to me regarding my nickname. “Connor’s going crazy. You’re not talking to him?” He looked at me. I nodded confirmation. “He’s driving my dad crazy. He’s wrecked two cars.”

  That got my attention. “What? How?” I looked at Cole and felt those emerald eyes staring into me, seeing past my defences.

  “Well, he drove the first one into a brick wall, and last night he took dad’s Jag and wrapped it around a tree.”

  “Oh my God, is he hurt?” I jumped to my feet and began to pace.

  Colton laughed and put his feet on my bed, shoes and all. I didn’t comment but I glared at him. He smirked. I wanted to punch him but settled for swiping his feet off the covers instead.

  “Of course, he isn’t hurt - this is Connor. He jumped from the cars in time. He wasn’t happy with the damage to his own car, I don’t think he felt that he had damaged it enough, so he set it on fire. Then sat back and watched it burn. Called the fire station himself. Waited for them to turn up and asked for a lift home.” Cole shook his head in disbelief. A small smile was playing around his lips and I wasn’t sure if he approved or not.

  “He’s crazy,” I whispered. I started chewing on my hair. Cole reached over, took my hair out of my mouth and held my hand.

  “He’s crazy for you,” he leaned forward and caressed my cheek. I looked at him and felt myself flushing before I pulled away.

  “He put Jason White in the hospital, Colton.”

  “I know. He’s not the first guy Connor’s done that to.”

  “What? Was it because of...there are others?”

  Colton nodded.

  “Was it my fault?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “Not all the time,” Cole shrugged, “my little brother has a temper and he’s possessive, mainly of you. How can you not know this?” He was regarding me with scepticism. I felt my own temper rising.

  “How the hell would I know? He’s always been Connor! Sweet, loving, somewhat juvenile, highly inappropriate at times, yes. But that’s Connor. He’s never said or done anything to me to make me think he was a freaking sociopath!” I could feel tears threatening. I sat down on my bed dejectedly. Cole must have felt sorry for me. He reached over and tugged me into his arms. God, he smelled good - so unlike Connor. I was leaning in too much and I suddenly felt so very, very guilty.

  When I finished feeling sorry for myself, I looked up at him and he looked down at me. I saw his eyes shift to my lips and I saw a flash of...something, before he gently pushed me back and stood up. I flushed again and smoothed my hands over my jeans, inhaling deeply to steady my breath.

  “He’s not a sociopath,” Cole said.

  I snorted.

  “Ok, he’s maybe a little too fixated on you and what you do but you can’t say he isn’t devoted.”

  “Are you joking?” I demanded as I leapt to my feet once again. “He put Jason in the hospital. I don’t even know why! I don’t remember the last time I talked to Jason.” I was close to tearing my hair out.

  “You shared your sandwich with him apparently,” Cole commented drily.

  I froze. “What?”

  “Apparently you gave him half your lunch one day and some idiot at practice commented that you looked like the kind of girl that gave things away easily.” Cole looked far too amused for my liking.

  “What?” I was repeating myself, but I was furious. “Who? And why the hell didn’t Connor punch that guy out instead?” I yelled somewhat indignantly.

  Cole snorted out a laugh. “He did. Unfortunately, seeing his friend punched out must have ticked Jason off, which was when he made some comment that seemed to imply you had offered more than your sandwich.” Cole shrugged. To be honest, he looked slightly bored by the details. I would have felt like slapping him if he wasn’t so stunning to look at – dark brown hair cut close to the sides and back, left slightly longer on top. Cheekbones that made me want to sigh with envy. Full lips. But it was his eyes I could never move past, they were a stunning shade of emerald green. No one – and definitely not someone who already looked like Colton Dawson – deserved to have eyes that colour. He was well over six feet tall, probably about 6’4” and with his broad and muscular physique, he didn’t look like a 19-year-old boy. He looked like a man.

  Cole had been so popular when he was at school, but he’d never even tried; he didn’t go out of his way to be known in high school. I had never seen him try to be popular, he just was. I always thought he was just going through the motions – getting through the years before he could head off to college. He was earmarked to run his dad’s business either beside him or after him. He had no other future and I genuinely think that’s what he wanted. I had never seen any indication otherwise.

  I looked away from him now, frowning. I was remembering now. I had been on the back bleachers in the cool autumn air, engrossed in a new book – my lunch half eaten beside me – when Jason had come up to tell me that the lunch bell had rung and I was going to be officially late for our next class, which we had together.

  I’d noticed that he was eyeballing my lunch hungrily and I had told him to finish it as a thank you for making sure I didn’t get detention. Then we had walked to class together, chatting about the fact we were sure we were getting a pop quiz this week.

  My boyfriend had put him in hospital for that. A grated cheese and lettuce sandwich and a five-minute conversation about English novelists who might get mentioned in the pop quiz? I was going to be sick.

  “Cole...I don’t know, I can’t handle this.” I slipped back onto my bed. I looked at him and he smiled softly at me.

  “So, I need t
o break it to him that you are over?” he asked. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “No, I thought I made it pretty clear myself,” I muttered.

  “Avoiding calls, school and visits isn’t going to cut it, Ari. He needs to hear it. He needs to hear it from you.” Cole looked at me and sat beside me again. He took my hand. “He would never hurt you.”

  I nodded. “I know. I’ve never been scared of him before...” I admitted. “Did you know this was happening?”

  “Yeah, though I didn’t realise it had gotten so extreme. Matt always worried for you. He told me on the way down here that you would have no idea what had been going on. I admit I didn’t believe him. I do now.” He was frowning.

  “Gee thanks for the vote of confidence.” I glared at him. He mock glared back then grinned. Asshat.

  “Ok, so I better go see him then and finish this.” I stood purposefully and took a deep breath.

  “Now?” Cole looked slightly alarmed at my sudden determination.

  “Better now than never. Would it be ok if Matt was with me?” I felt stupid asking, but Matt was the closest thing I had to a best friend.

  Cole’s eyes had narrowed. “What’s wrong with me being there?”

  “Because you’re his brother. You’ll take his side. Besides, Matt can take Connor in a fight if he has too.” I glanced at Cole speculatively. “Matty could probably beat your ass down too, come to think of it.” I shrugged on my coat. I was only half joking – I’d usually bet on Matt every single time; the guy was a machine. Maybe I was deluded. It might not be safe to bet against Cole - he could be so detached it was scary.

  Cole looked slightly pissed. “I was on your side you know, but for that, I’m definitely on Connor’s. You probably drive him insane anyway.” I gasped and Cole looked not one bit apologetic. He had been teasing though and gave me a lopsided grin as he slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into a side hug. “Come on; let’s go kill my brother’s hopes and dreams. Who said Saturday nights in this town were dull?” He laughed as we left my room. Maybe both brothers have screws loose I thought as we descended the stairs.