…
SHE LOOKS NERVOUS.
This is a look I’ve never seen on her before, honestly.
She lies back, her shirt lifted as the ultrasound tech moves the wand around on her belly. Me, I can’t keep my eyes off the screen, and the sound of our baby’s heartbeat echoes in my ears. But Sabrina hasn’t even looked in that direction since we got in this room. She kept her gaze on me the entire time, and I wonder why that is.
“Do you want to know your baby’s sex?” the technician asks us.
“Yes,” I say, but Sabrina stays silent. She squeezes her eyes shut, and I lean over to run my hand over her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, but I know my wife. She’s never this silent, not unless something’s wrong. My mom told her to fight me, but what she didn’t bank on was me fighting back. I know when she’s trying to keep something from me or when she’s feigning ‘fine’. She’s anything but fine, so I take her hand and bring it up to my mouth.
She’s shaking. She’s so damn cute when she’s nervous. But she has nothing to be nervous about. Boy or girl, no matter what, this baby is going to be the most loved baby in the entire world.
“You want me to tell you?” I offer, wondering if instead of nerves, it’s excitement that’s keeping her from looking.
She nods, closing her eyes.
I glance up at the tech, and she nods in acknowledgment. I lean over to kiss my wife on the mouth, my silent way of letting her know that everything is going to be okay. I think she just needs that reassurance every now and then. I can’t say that I blame her. After a few moments, she glances at the screen, then turns to glance at me.
“Girl,” she mouths.
Girl.
We’re having a girl.
I’m going to have a daughter.
Yet another girl for me to protect.
I kiss Sabrina’s hand and smile through the tears threatening to fall. Her eyes snap open, and they are wide with anxiety. I press a kiss to her lips once, twice, three times, and I rest my forehead against hers. I can’t even find the words to explain how elated I am right now. But she’s looking at me like she’s about to kill me if I don’t give her her answer yesterday.
I grin, because I know she’s really about to go crazy with the shopping once I tell her.
“Clarissa,” I whisper.
PLAYLIST
Everything Has Changed-Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran
Something-Griffin Peterson
The Mechanic-Rascal Flatts
Rewind-Rascal Flatts
Somebody’s Heartbreak-Hunter Hayes
Halo-Bethany Joy Lenz
Ooh La La-Kate Voegele
Bumper Cars-Alex & Sierra
Almost Is Never Enough-Ariana Grande ft. Nathan Sykes
Not In That Way-Sam Smith
I’m In Trouble-Griffin Peterson
Caught Up In You-Kate Voegele ft. Inland Sky
Make A Move-Gavin DeGraw
Unconditionally-Katy Perry
Carousel-Kate Voegele
Blown Away-Carrie Underwood
Who You Love-John Mayer ft. Katy Perry
The Words-Christina Perri
Set Me Free-Griffin Peterson
Make You Feel My Love-Bob Dylan (Lea Michele’s Glee cover)
I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing-Aerosmith
We Both Know-Colbie Caillat featuring Gavin DeGraw
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, I’d like to thank my Beta readers, Jenn, Danie, and Maria. You three are The Originals, who have been riding with me ever since I began Losing Me, and have been unfailingly supportive ever since. You’ve pushed me, encouraged me, supported me, and been my driving force and guiding light through four novels in less than a year. You three loved, cherished, and encouraged Brody and Sabrina ever since the first time you met them, and I’ll be forever grateful. I wouldn’t be here without the three of you, and I couldn’t ask for a better group of ladies, supporters, and friends to be on this journey with me.
To my bestest, Danie, you are a fucking godsend. You push me to write when I don’t want to, you give me feedback on everything, no-holds-barred, you are the Most Valuable Player on my team. From late night laughs to executive decisions on specific scenes and playlist creations, you are there through it all. Without fail, without complaint, you are always there and there aren’t enough words in the English language to tell you how much that means to me. And thank you for your musical selections when it came to the song Brody and Bree danced at the prom. It’s now one of my favorites. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you and your encouragement, and I look forward to having you by my side on every journey hereafter.
To my best friend, my soul sister, my eternal writing buddy, my dream board, Ashley, thank you. Seriously, over the past three years we’ve known each other, we’ve bounced idea after idea off of each other. I remember messaging you and telling you that Brody and Sabrina were buried deep inside me, aching to be let out and wondering whether I should write their story. And you told me yes. You always tell me yes, always answer my messages in the wee hours of the night, listen to me rant and rave about WIP number 394, and 395, and 396, and so on and so forth. We work as friends because we play off of each others’ strengths and lift each other up in the lowest moments. I am beyond lucky to have you.
Cass, there are too many emotions and not enough words to describe what you’ve done for me over the course of our friendship. Most people only dream of being friends with one of their favorite authors, but I get to live out that dream. I still hate you.
To my sister Lanita, this book’s dedication was for you, but I can’t simply stop there. You did more than help me with scenes, or date ideas, or names, or places. You did more than help me with my book. You helped me with myself. There is so much you’ve done for me, and I know a book dedication and a paragraph in my acknowledgments won’t quite cover the appreciation I feel for you. We made a deal the day I began Unbroken that I would publish it on your birthday, but little did you know, I made that decision long before you approached me. And I don’t regret it. I never will. You are the kindest, purest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. People rarely get to meet angels in their lifetime, but I’m the luckiest person in the world because my angel is my sister. I love you always.
Thank you to Anie Michaels for creating the Facebook group, Sprinters. It’s thanks to that group, the amazingly talented and hardworking authors in the group, and the support provided that I was able to stay on track when all I wanted to do was procrastinate like crazy.
A special thank you to A Dirty Book Affair for hosting my blog tour and release day blitz. This is the first time I’ve worked with a tour/promo company and you have made it incredibly easy for me to relinquish control.
To everyone who shares, comments, and likes on my posts when there is a sale, a cover reveal, a giveaway or a new release, thank you.
Thank you to my readers, the old, and the new, for supporting my writing and my work unfailingly. I could never do this without you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jasmine Carolina is a twenty one year old college student who has been passionately writing from the raw age of ten. It was the love of the Harry Potter series and the Chronicles of Narnia that sparked her love of writing and anything that involved creativity. She currently resides in Chicago, Illinois with her family. Along with writing, Jasmine has a love for books, musicals, travel, and makeup, however she’s not afraid to get her hair messed up or her nails broken. Unbroken, a spin-off from her Nickayla Quinn Trilogy, is her fourth novel. She’s currently in college full time while working on three new projects.
Other works by Jasmine Carolina
Losing Me (Nickayla Trilogy #1)
Never Let Me Go (Nickayla Series Spinoff #1)
Almost Everything (Nickayla Trilogy #2)
IF YOU LIKED UNBROKEN...
Rock Bottom
Jamie Canosa
I flipped the paper o
ver and I must have died because I know my heart stopped beating. Zero. I scored a big, fat, red zero with a note scrawled across the top of the page that read ‘See me after class.’ If there weren’t two of them in a one hundred, I may not have even recognized the number. I’d certainly never received one as a grade before. Or been asked to stay after class.
My eye caught Mr. Parson’s at the front of the room and an icy ball of nerves solidified in the pit of my stomach. He looked . . . pissed. What the hell did I ever do to him?
I didn’t hear another word for the rest of class, my mind too wrapped up in what could have happened. It must be some kind of mistake. I’d just explain to Mr. Parson that whatever he was thinking to make him look at me like that must be wrong and everything would go back to normal. He’d add a one and another zero to my exam and I’d take it home to show my parents. Everything would be fine. It had to be.
“You coming?”
I glanced up to find Elijah standing beside my desk, surprised to find most of the class had already cleared out of the room. I needed to stop spacing out.
“I can’t. I need to talk to Mr. Parson for a minute.”
He eyed me curiously. “Everything all right. You look a little sick again. Are you allergic to chemistry?”
He was trying to make me smile, but it fell flat against the anxiety skyrocketing through my system. I needed to get this over with. Now. Before I had a stroke.
“I gotta talk to him. I’ll see ya later.”
“Do you want me to stick around?” He was actually starting to look a little concerned and Heaven only knew what I must have looked like.
“No. No, it’s fine. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Okay.” Elijah looked conflicted about his decision to go, but in the end he went, leaving me and Mr. Parson alone in the classroom.
Gathering my stuff haphazardly into my arms, I relocated to a desk at the front of the room.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“I did.” Mr. Parson got up and slowly strolled to the door, shutting it with his foot and leaving me sitting on the edge of my seat.
He wasn’t a mean guy. Just out of college and not too much older than us, he was usually pretty cool, but he was torturing me now and I had no idea why.
“Rylie, we have a problem.” He took a seat on the front edge of his desk, stretching his denim clad legs out in front of him so that they nearly touch my own.
He definitely dressed better than most teachers in his button up shirts rolled up at the sleeves and left open in the front to display some pretty cool tees. I swear he only wore them at all to comply with the dress code, however loosely. I knew he had to be at least twenty-two or twenty-three, but with his light shaggy hair forever flopping into those bright blue eyes and that handsome baby face, he could have easily passed as a student here instead of a teacher.
“What problem?”
“Cheating is not tolerated in my classroom, Ry.”
“Cheating? I didn’t—”
“I caught you looking at Mr. Prince more than once during the exam.”
Oh, God, I swear my cheeks turned ten shades of crimson. “I wasn’t cheating. I was just . . . looking.”
“Looking?”
“I . . . sort of . . . have a little . . . crush . . . on Elijah. Maybe. A little.” Cripes, where the hell was the mute button when I needed it?
“A crush? On Mr. Prince? Are you two dating?”
“No.” Not yet, anyway.
“That’s good to hear.” Seriously, even the teachers were against me dating Elijah? “Maybe we can still work this out.”
“Yes. I’d like to work this out. I really wasn’t cheating.”
“And yet you both had the exact same answers.”
“The right answers! You can’t penalize us for both knowing the material we’re supposed to know.”
“This is my classroom, Rylie. I can do whatever I like.” There was a sudden shift in the room. A chill. Mr. Parson went from the laid back friendly teacher we all knew and loved to someone else. Someone . . . intimidating.
“I . . . I swear, I didn’t cheat. I studied. Hard. I don’t deserve a zero.”
“What grade do you think you deserve, Rylie?” Why did he keep saying my name like that? It gave me goose bumps, and not the good kind.
“I . . . Whatever I earned.”
“Would you like to earn a hundred?”
Was that a trick question? “Yes, of course.”
“There may be a way we could work that out.” He stood and meandered toward the desk where I was sitting.
My shoulders tensed as he circled around behind me, trailing a hand over them.
“You’re so tense.” Fingers pressed into my skin as he rubbed my muscles. “Relax. Just breathe.”
Breathing seemed impossible with what was happening. I couldn’t even process exactly what that was. “What . . .? What are you doing?”
“Working it out.”
“H-how can we do that?” My mouth had suddenly gone completely dry, making it difficult to speak.
“I’ve had my eye on you all year, Rylie. You’re a beautiful young woman.” His fingers dipped lower, rubbing deeper in my shoulder blades and clavicle. “You’ve left me pretty . . . tense, too. Maybe you could do something about that.”
“L-like w-what?” Why was I even asking? I already knew what he was implying. Some deep part of me was still desperately hoping I was completely overreacting to the situation. But I wasn’t.
“Something that would earn that hundred you so desperately want.”
Oh, my God. This was not happening. This stuff only happened on ridiculous after school specials. Not in real life. Not in my life.
“Mr. . . . Mr. Parson,” I leaned as far forward as I could behind that desk, pulling away from his touch. “M-maybe I could take a retest, or—”
“No retest. There’s one way to get the grade you want. The question is . . . how badly do you want it?”
I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. The thought of bringing home a zero and carrying the stigma of cheating through my senior year was almost too much to bear. I was going to be physically ill. His arm reached around from behind me, brushing across my chest and the tops of my breasts, causing me to recoil violently. I didn’t want it that bad.
“I can’t. I won’t! Don’t touch me.” Tears pooled in my eyes, making it hard to see my stuff as I jumped from the seat and piled it into my arms as quickly as I could. “Don’t touch me.”
When they spilled over, clearing my vision slightly, I found Mr. Parson leaning against the door. I stopped short waiting for him to move out of my way. Not certain that he would.
“Then, you keep the zero and I report you to the board of ethics.” My entire body shuddered at the thought. This could easily destroy my college prospects. “Get out of my classroom.”
He stepped aside, but only far enough that I had to squeeze by him to get out of the door.
When my arm bumped against his chest, he grabbed ahold of it and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Cheating can be the least of your problems. Breathe a word of what happened here today and it will be. It’s your word against mine and I can make your life very difficult, Miss. Stark.”
I locked up at his touch and couldn’t move—or breathe—again until he released me. Then, I moved. Ran like the room was on fire all the way to the closest bathroom.
“Rylie?” I hadn’t even realized I’d blown right by Elijah in the hallway. “Rylie, are you okay?”
In complete disregard to the ‘Women’s’ sign on the door, he barged into the bathroom to find me hunched over a toilet. I hadn’t even had time to shut the stall door before losing my lunch.
“What the hell happened in there?” He balled up a wad of toilet paper and handed it to me to wipe my mouth, not skeeved out in the least by my display.
“This is a girl’s bathroom, Elijah.”
“Yeah, and we’re the only ones in it, so what? You guys hiding some kind
of secret handbook or something in here?” He ducked, like he was actually searching for something below the sinks, dragging out a small smile from me.
“There you go.” He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual self-amused grin. It was almost . . . gentle. “Now tell me what happened.”
My stomach heaved again and I considered diving back into the stall and slamming the door before it settled. “I-I can’t.”
I didn’t even realize my hands were shaking until Elijah folded them both in his. “You’re terrified. What the hell is going on? You better start talking, Ry, or I’m gonna go ask Mr. Parson.”
“No! No, you can’t do that. Don’t-don’t say anything to him. Please.”
Elijah’s eyes narrowed along with his lips. “Did he do something to you?”
“No.” I shook my head hard enough to give myself a headache before one of Elijah’s hands cupped my cheek, stopping me. “Not really.”
“What does ‘not really’ mean?” He ducked his head, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “Rylie, talk to me.”
“He . . . He accused me of cheating.”
“I can see why that would upset you, but not like this. There’s more. What is it?”
I licked my dry, chapping lips and flicked my eyes to his before dropping them again when the concern shining through quickly became too much to handle.
“Just tell me.”
“Nothing. I just . . . I don’t feel well. Must be that whole chemistry allergy thing.”
“Bullshit. It’s real simple, Ry. Either you tell me or he does.”
“Elijah, just forget about it. Please?”
“Not gonna happen, Princess. You’ve got ten seconds to start talking.”
“Elijah, I—”
“Eight.”
“I can’t. I have to—”
“Five.”
“I have to get home. My parents will be—”
“Three, two, one.” Elijah’s booted foot slid backward and I panicked.
“He . . . offered me a way to make it up.”
Unbroken Page 32