Illicit: A Novel
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
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
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Illicit: A Novel
Copyright © 2017 by Ava Harrison
Published by AH Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-0-9963585-8-3
ISBN: 0-9963585-8-7
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and/or restaurants referenced in the work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Illicit: A Novel
Cover Design: By Hang Le
Photographer: Wong Sim
Cover Model: Chad Hurst
Interior Design: Champagne Formats
Editors: Ellie McLove, Love N. Books
Brenda Letendre, Write Girl Editing Services
Content Editor: Jennifer Roberts-Hall, Indie After Hours
Proofreader: Marla Selkow Esposito
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
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
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
By Ava Harrison
About the Author
Sneak Peek of trans·fer·ence
Sneak Peek of Defy
Dedicated to those looking for home.
I’VE STOPPED WISHING FOR EXTRAORDINARY.
I’ve stopped wishing for that one moment so profound it will change everything. I know it will never happen, so there’s no point in dreaming.
But like all things in life, extraordinary happens when you least expect it, and in the blink of an eye, everything can change.
I GAZE OUT AT THE vast ocean before me. The water laps against the shore like a graceful song to my ears, quietly whispering a melody I once loved, but it does nothing to calm my nerves. Waves roll in, and with each pass of the water, the sand below me scratches beneath my bare feet. I close my eyes to take in the peace, but the visions behind my eyelids are still there, and the pain of his betrayal continues to etch away at me.
As usual, nothing has gone according to my plan. I’m not sure what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t what I got.
I never really liked him.
So why did it hurt so much?
Life has taught me hard lessons. I learned long ago that I could never rely on anyone to be there for me, but even after everything I’ve been through, I still need to know I mean something to someone. That someone out there cares.
It certainly isn’t my parents. Although my father tries, ever since he left when I was ten it hasn’t been the same. And my mom . . . well, my mom is currently in the midst of becoming Mrs. Someone for the fourth time. I’m her perfectly created specimen. The daughter she flaunts at the parties she attends.
When I was eleven, Mom was trying to land a British Duke, which required extensive travel to Europe. To this day, I’m not sure why she dragged me along. In the end, all we had to show for the experience was me being held back a grade. So, even though I’m already eighteen, I’m only a senior in high school.
Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I gaze at the house in the distance. Right up the beach is the house party we decided to crash. Bridget’s older sister rented the house for the summer with a bunch of her college buddies. We knew a ton of Cranbrook Alumni, including my boyfriend, Matthew—well, ex-boyfriend now—would also be there.
At the last minute, Bridget and I decided to pack a bag and join the fun. Although everyone at the party was significantly older than us, we knew we’d be welcome. It would be everyone’s last hurrah. I couldn’t wait to get there and spend some time with Matt before school started, but it turned out he wasn’t missing me as much as I missed him.
My feet were cemented to the floor as I took in the sight before me. There, standing at the edge of the bed, was my boyfriend and a blonde I didn’t know. I couldn’t move as I watched him thrust in and out of her from behind. The sickly sweet smell of sex permeated the air.
I was afraid I’d be sick.
“Matt.” His movements stopped at the sound of my voice.
“Oh, shit,” he said as he pulled out of her and faced me. His face contorted into a look of shock. “Fuck. I didn’t know you’d be here.” My mouth dropped open. Did he
just say that? Every muscle in my body flinched as anger filled my blood. A tense silence enveloped the room. It was as if a fierce storm was about to blow.
“You didn’t know I would be here?”
He made no move to cover himself or his whore. Instead, I was forced to look at the woman he cheated on me with. Model tall with bones sticking out of her hips—the complete opposite of me. Her hair was the shade of blond only present in a bottle, and she had lips that looked as if they had recently been injected with fillers. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to Matt, whose dick was still hard. His mouth hung open, obviously thinking of a way to respond to my question. He let out an audible sigh and then—finally—reached for a sheet to cover the evidence of his tryst.
“Listen, Lynn. I’m sorry you found out this way, but maybe it’s for the best.”
My stomach tightened, and anger coiled inside me. “For the best? What the fuck, Matt? We’ve been together for months!”
“Yeah, but now I’m going away to college, and I’m not sure how I can go that long without you. You don’t get it since you’re still in high school. But I have needs.”
“Needs? You know what? No. No! You don’t get to put this on me like it’s my fault you’re a lying, cheating dick. Have a nice life.”
“Lynn—”
I stormed out the door.
I take a deep breath, and the smell of the ocean rushes up through my nose. Its salty and pungent fragrance should act as a balm, an elixir that soothes me, but I’m too destroyed for something that simple to work. I exhale the emotion collecting inside me.
All I can do now is pray for a miracle to save my night.
ANOTHER FUCKING PARTY.
I’m so sick of this shit. If there’s one thing I won’t miss it’s the drunk, self-indulgent idiots getting high and fucking anything with a hole. Not that I don’t like fucking, but I have some standards . . .
I reach for a bottle of Grey Goose on the counter and search for a spot where I can be alone and drown out the noise these children are making.
Why the hell am I here again?
Oh, yes. Dylan. It’s his last party before he starts law school. Unlike him, I’m over this college shit, but he insisted on one last rager. Normally, I wouldn’t have bothered, but the guilt he laid on was even too thick for me to say no to.
I’m too old for this crap.
My real life starts on Monday. After four years of college, my head stuck in the books trying to get my shit together, I finally have a degree to show for it. I’m ready for the next stage, but I still have a few more days before this new phase of my life starts, so I guess there’s no harm in one more night of oblivion. But unlike these people, I would prefer to spend it alone.
Looking from right to left, it’s apparent there is no place for me to hide. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spot the door to the beach. There. That’s where I’ll find peace. Everyone is too busy getting drunk inside to be out there. It’s the perfect place. With a deep breath, I stroll toward the sliding door, and on the way grab a blanket lying across the back of the couch. Might need that. Over the loud thumping music there’s no creaking noise when I pull the glass door open, but as I step outside and close it behind me, the sound echoes against the new silence of the night. The summer heat slaps my face as I search for a secluded area on the deck. Then, I notice the path leading down to the water.
Bingo.
With every step I take, the party becomes a distant hum, but when I finally reach the sand, I see I’m not alone. A little way down the beach, sitting where the sand almost meets the water is a girl. I only catch glimpses of her face from this angle, but each time her light hair is rustled by the wind, the exposed skin on the back of her neck peeks out. She’s beautiful. Even though my view is obstructed by the distance and angle, it doesn’t take much to realize that she is breathtaking. Ethereal . . . like a goddess. I stare at her some more and find that although I came here to be alone, I no longer want to be. The fact she’s here has me welcoming the company, or more like her company. I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a long swig.
This should be interesting.
BURYING MY HANDS DEEP IN the cool, coarse sand that’s still pulpy from the retreating tide, I recline and shut my eyes. Other than the ocean, the beach is silent. I’m not sure how long I sit here, but eventually my shoulders uncoil and the corded muscles loosen from my earlier tension.
“Not in the mood to party?”
I jump at the sound.
He chuckles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I peer up at the stranger interrupting my solitude. My breath catches in my throat. His stance is confident, and he has an air about him that sends a chill down my spine. The glare of the moon shimmers in his eyes. They appear dark and ominous. A burning, faraway look reflects back at me. A look I know too well. I see it in the mirror every day when I don’t want to be home; when I don’t want to be alone. He stares back in waiting silence, then inclines his head as he continues to assess me. It’s as if he feels my pain and matches it. Maybe, just maybe, he understands me.
But how could he? He doesn’t know me, or anything about me.
The thought of him being like me, feeling like me, sets my skin on fire from embarrassment and elates me at the same time. It makes no sense to feel these two emotions together, but nonetheless, a heat spreads across my cheeks and down to my collarbone. His eyes glisten as the moonlight continues to reflect off them, reminding me of a night at sea. His gaze sweeps down and then lingers, undressing me with his eyes and searching within my soul for my secrets.
He’s beautiful.
Devastatingly beautiful.
A gust of wind whips around us, and his untamable brown locks become even more unruly as they drift across his brows. All thoughts of anything but running my fingers through his tousled hair fade away. I chastise myself for my thoughts. I shouldn’t even be considering hooking up with someone when my boyfriend just cheated on me.
Thank God we’re cloaked in darkness because the black night hides my blush. I have never been so attracted to anyone in my life. Maybe it’s that I’m vulnerable after what Matt did to me, but staring at him has my pulse beating erratically.
He smiles, and I can’t pull my gaze away. It’s as if my world is on pause.
“So, no party?” he repeats, and I realize I never answered his original question.
I mutter, “No,” still lost in his stare.
“Mind if I sit down?” His voice is gentle and makes me feel at ease.
I nod, and he lowers his body to the ground, spreading his long legs in front of him. With a turn of his head toward me, he lifts a bottle of vodka. “Want a sip?”
“I’m normally not much of a vodka drinker.” Lifting one hand, I reach toward him. “Okay, I’m not at all a vodka drinker, but after the night I’ve had, I wouldn’t mind taking the edge off.”
He hands me the bottle, and our fingers brush. His are cool and smooth. The gentle encounter makes me hyper aware of the close proximity of our bodies. I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a sip. The cool liquid burns my tongue and sears my throat on its way down. Not my poison, but it does the trick. Our fingers meet again as he grasps the bottle from me and props it in the sand beside us. This time the contact causes my body to shiver. I notice he has a blanket in his hand, but instead of sitting on it he lays it down beside the bottle.
“What brings you out here to the beach all alone?”
“The wild festivities sucked.” My hands dredge in the sand by my feet. As I lift them, the grains pass through my fingers.
“And you’re not in the mood to get drunk and act like an asshole like the rest of them?” he asks, his voice all velvety and smooth.
“Oh, God, no.”
He laughs at my answer. It’s a hearty laugh that makes my own lips want to part, but I don’t let them.
“I hear that.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I take it you didn’t enjoy the party eith
er?”
“That obvious?” Sarcasm drips off his words and I nod in understanding.
“If you hate them so much, what brings you to a lame ass party?” I can’t help but mock him. His answer intrigues me.
“What can I say . . . Last party of the season. Had to make an appearance. I’m over it, though. School starts in one day. I’m ready to get to it already.”
“Yeah, I totally get that,” I mutter.
“What’s your name?”
“Lynn.”
He stretches his hand out and I take it. His fingers wrap around mine and I feel a surge of energy go through me. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lynn. I’m Carson.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Carson.”
Pulling his hand from my grasp, he leans away. I grip the base of the cool glass and take another swig. The taste burns its way down and makes me feel warm inside. As the liquid pools in my stomach, it lessens the misery from Matt’s rejection swirling inside me.
“Okay, Lynn. From the look on your face and your obvious disdain . . . why did you really leave? Because it’s got to be something more than the party being lame.” He shrugs matter-of-factly before turning toward me and inclining his head. “What happened?”
My body stiffens. A perfect Barbie replaced me. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“I understand.” He leans back on his elbows, his face still focused on me. “So, if you don’t want to talk to me about what’s got you so upset, let’s talk about something else.”
I groan. “Or we can just sit in silence.”
“But that wouldn’t be quite as fun, now would it?”
“I guess not.”
“You know, you’ll probably never see me again after tonight. I’m the perfect person to vent to.” The baritone of his voice reverberates through my body. “If you won’t tell me why you left, then tell me one fun fact about yourself.”
He’s right, what he just said. This is my chance to just talk and have someone listen with no judgment or expectations. I look up to the sky and let out a sigh. Plus, talking to this guy is a much better choice than hiding from Matt.
“Fine. Hmm, one fun fact . . .” As my eyes gaze overhead, I come up with a relatively easy answer. “I’m mildly obsessed with the stars.”