Crushing Misery

by Kinsey Taylor

  Crushing Misery

  Kinsey Taylor

  Crushing Misery (Shades of Misery Series)

  © Copyright 2015 Kinsey Taylor Published by Kinsey Taylor

  ISBN-13: 978-1515176473

  ISBN-10: 1515176479

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published:

  Kinsey Taylor 2015: Authorkinseytaylor@gmail.com

  Cover Design: By Laura Hidalgo at BookFabulousDesigns:

  http://www.bookfabulousdesigns.com

  Proofreading by: Annie Anderson

  http://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnieAnderson

  Donette Freeman & Holly Baker

  http://www.hollyshotreads.wordpress.com/

  Images in Manuscript from Shutterstock:

  http://www.shutterstock.com

  Warning

  This book is intended for people 18+ and older. This story isn’t suitable for those who can’t handle uncomfortable situations, foul language, physical or verbal abuse to woman/children. Basically, if you don’t like ugly, this book isn’t for you. Sometimes in life you have to live through the ugly to get to the awesomeness of your Happily Ever After…

  This is dedicated to my husband! When I had given up hope that true love really did exist. You found me right when I needed you the most. Thank you for loving me just as I am, crazy and unpredictable.

  Depths of Misery

  Slap, punch, smack

  Ripping through my flesh

  Terrorized by your hands

  Words are your weapons

  Inflicting a constant ache

  Anxiety squeezes my insides

  Constricting my grieving heart

  Visions of hate encompass me

  Locked in the shadows of hell

  Numb to the surface from pain

  Forever plagued with the depths of misery

  Prologue

  Kennedy - Age 17

  “Oh, shit! No! No! No!” I yell. I grab for Justeen’s wrist desperate to see the time. I watch her smile drop to a horrified expression.

  “Go, Go!” Justeen shouts to me.

  It’s way past my curfew. Good God, I’ve gone and done it this time. He’ll be waiting for me for sure.

  Fighting my way through the crowd, I plow out of the side entrance of the Finley’s house and race to the street. The evergreens and houses surrounding me blur as I pump my legs. The crunch of gravel beneath my throbbing feet echoes like the crack of a bone, shattering on impact. I shudder. I ached for days, last time I was late, from the punishment my dad had dealt.

  Sliding to a halt at the front walk of my house, I move to step forward but miss and slam into the pavement. I throw my hands out mid-fall, and my palms absorb the pain instead of my face. The chaos unfolding isn’t supposed to be happening, especially not today. I’ve looked forward to Justeen’s sweet-sixteen birthday celebration since the day Mrs. Finley took us to buy our beautiful new party dresses.

  I push up and stand in front of the house. I pant so hard igniting the fire rushing breath burning my lungs. I bend over to grip my thighs as sweat plasters hair to my face. The lights are off inside. Maybe this time will be different? I give myself a second to catch my breath though it does nothing to relieve the anxiety attack I feel coming on. I start to cough and hunch over puking up all the contents from the party. Whispering a silent prayer, I reach for the doorknob. With a shaky hand, I gently push my way inside. Please let Dad be passed out this time. Please. Just as tension dissipates, the lights flick on, and I’m frozen. My father’s face is beet red; his eyes filled with hatred.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy!” I say. He snatches the front of my dress, cutting off further comment, and lifts me off the floor.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, dismissing curfew? You were out screwing that Finely boy, Jagger, weren’t you?”

  His hot whiskey breath blows across my face; I turn my head away from him.

  “No, Daddy, no!” I scream as tears roll along my cheeks.

  “What the fuck are you wearing, Kennedy? I sure as hell don’t remember buying this for you.” Still holding me up off the floor, dad pulls the fabric to his face for closer examination, ripping the lace apart in the process.

  “You look like a goddamn slut. Time for another lesson, young lady.”

  Reaching back, he tightens his fist higher in the air and lands the first punch squarely on my cheek. I yelp in pain. I try to escape inside myself but can’t seem to turn off my scattered thoughts. Why does he hate me so much? Was being late really bad enough to hurt me? I fucking hate you. I scream in my head. Someone, please help me.

  “No daughter of mine is gonna be known as the town whore.” Between punches, I see movement behind my dad. Standing there with a grin as big as the Cheshire cat’s is my mother. Our eyes connect, and she sashays from the room before slamming her bedroom door behind her. I saw the satisfied look on her face and the sparkle in her eyes.

  A sob escapes me as more tears fall down my face. I’ve given her everything she’s ever wanted: straight A’s, perfect attendance, not a lick of trouble. Why do they enjoy hurting me so much?

  “Please stop! Why are you doing this?”

  He smiles and laughs. “It’s your punishment for being brought into this world bitch.”

  “I fucking hate you!” I scream in his face. I start to shake from the shock. I’ve never spoken back or yelled at my parents. I’ve always just taken it.

  As he lands another punch to my face, the screen door flies off its hinges.

  “Put Kennedy down NOW, Mo, you worthless piece of shit!” Bruce commands with his loud, stern voice.

  I’m tossed aside like a rag doll; intense pain rushes through my side as I hit the floor.

  “You’re a disgrace to your profession. The fact that you’re attacking your daughter is vile.”

  In utter disbelief, Mr. Finley and my dad exchange blows. It plays out much like a boxing match I’d seen on TV. Bruce lands a solid punch, and blood spews from my father’s mouth. The last thing I see before the darkness overwhelms me is the satisfied smile on Bruce’s face.

  Chapter One

  Kennedy - Eight years later

  I never saw my family after that night. My hideous parents made it easy for me to turn my back on them, and I prayed I would never meet another fighter again. The moment that Bruce Finley carried my battered body through his front door, I was no longer Kennedy Morgan. From that point on, I was Kennedy Finley in every way, and his family saw to that by treating me as one of their own.

  Things were pretty great after I joined the Finely clan. I was vibrant vivacious, and thriving. I knew exactly what I wanted, and nothing got in my way. Unfortunately, there was a change, and now I barely recognize the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. I’m lost in the stormy sea of a miserable marriage.

  As I step toward the gym doors anxious for my fir
st workout session, Justeen’s car speeds through the parking lot. Her car skids, tires squealing in protest against the asphalt stopping with a jolt into the space. Her door flies open, and she stands. Grinning like a sadist, she slams the car door shut and swaggers towards me.

  “Ugh!” I sigh out loud. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say.

  She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Oh, get off it Kennedy. Let’s get you on the elliptical and get started on bringing your sexy back for Jagger’s wedding.”

  “By the way, how’s the dietary plan going? Oh and have you tried the granola bar recipe I gave you?”

  “It’s going good, thank you. It’s easier than I thought it would be. I did try your recipe. The good thing is, I can add mini chocolate chips and dried fruit to Ashlynn’s, and she has a yummy, healthy snack.”

  “See this changing your eating habits isn’t so bad, right?”

  “It’s not. Troy, however, hasn’t jumped on board the change train. I’ve been making separate meals for him and Ashlynn.”

  “Some support he’s giving you there, huh?”

  I give her a knowing look but stay quiet.

  Maybe after he sees the changes in my body, he’ll get with the program and enjoy the rewards.

  “I’ll make some of my premade meals for you to try out. If you like, you can order more – getting the family discount of course. Sound good?” She wiggles her eyes brows at me.

  I laugh and say, “Yes, oh mighty, licensed nutritionist. I bow to your greatness.”

  “How’s the lactation consulting going or as Jagger loves to call it ‘Justeen’s love for Jug Jiggling’?” We laugh in unison.

  “Hilarious. I’m slowly getting up and running. I’ve got three possibly four clients so far. Jagger wishes he had my job but doesn’t stop giving me shit for it. I thought after graduating, this starting a business stuff would be a little simpler.”

  “Justeen, it gets easier. Remember how long it took me to get clients for my photography business? I still think my teacher Mr. Ruben had a hand in that one. I can’t complain though, I have more business than I ever dreamt I would. I only wish it was a constant flow, though.”

  “You are doing okay, right?” Justeen questions.

  “Yeah. It has its ups and downs.”

  We walk the short distance into the ladies locker room, place our belongings into our lockers.

  “I’m going to go talk to Victor, the owner about possibly using my services. If not maybe he’ll allow me to put my business cards out at least.”

  “I’m going to channel my Zen and then I’ll be right out.”

  I’m meditating in the middle of the gym bench; my feet crossed in the front of me getting my focus on when two rowdy females stroll in squealing and giggle.

  “Did you see the hot ass man meat who just walked through the gym door, Kayla?”

  “No!”

  “Oh, My Gosh! He is so smoking hot girl. He looks so familiar, but I can’t for the life of me place where I know him from.”

  “Where has he been our entire time coming to this gym?”

  “Right. Come on hurry up and put your shit away. I need more of this dude’s amazing man candy. Our workouts will never be the same, Molly.”

  I laugh to myself and take in a few cleansing breaths, untangle my legs, and stand. I head out to be whipped and tortured in Justeen’s gym of pain. I cringe at the thought of how sore I’ll be tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it if I can drop enough pounds to fit into my dress for my brother’s wedding in sixteen weeks. After thirty minutes on the elliptical, we take a break. Justeen excuses herself to run to the bathroom.

  I walk downstairs to the weight room. As I take in the view before me, buff men and beautiful woman pump iron at nearly every station. They look like gods and goddesses, barely exerting themselves as if the weights are merely feathers. Many of them have barely even broken a sweat. How the hell am I suppose to do this?

  A magnetic current runs the length of my skin. The last time the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention like this, Jagger’s friend Corbin was visiting. We barely exchanged any words, but the way he looked at me stripped me bare.

  I round the corner, and my gaze collides with a scrumptious stallion of a man. Handsome doesn’t even do the guy justice. Shock waves ripple through me.

  No way. It can’t be.

  There he is. Corbin Nash, my high school crush. He’s much taller than me, about six foot two if I had to guess, buzzed sandy brown hair, a strong jawline, and broad, masculine shoulders. His shirt stretches across rock-hard muscles, tight enough to bust.

  Breaking from my reverie, I meet his sexy-as-hell smirk. Oh god, did he just catch me staring at him and licking my lips, no less? All while visualizing him completely naked, with all things naughty involved? Kill me now.

  Heat rushes through my cheeks. I turn heading over to the contraption I believe to be the tricep machine and wait for Justeen.

  She comes to my rescue carrying an attachment and removes the long metal bar, replacing it with a rope. She blasts me with her 5,000-megawatt smile. Looking from me to Corbin and back to me again.

  “What?” I say.

  “Enjoying the view? Try to stay focused on your workout, horn dog.”

  “Shut up.” I grumble.

  “I’m only trying to lessen the tension, geez. Chill out.”

  Shaking my head, I set the weight on the machine and get ready to start my first rep.

  “Am I doing this right?” I sternly ask.

  She nods and waits for me to finish, but I notice the smile falls from her face. I glance at the mirror to check out my form, but my eyes flick back to Corbin. I finish and let Justeen do her reps.

  She adjusts her weight and looks over at me.

  “You need to lean forward just a tad more during your next set okay?”

  “Okay. You’re the expert.”

  I eye her every move, snapping mental notes. I hope to look half as good as she does one day.

  “Your turn,” she taunts. Sticking my tongue out at her, I turn up my music, getting my head into the workout. A tap on my shoulder startles me as my ear bud is plucked from my ear.

  “Huh?” I say, turning my head.

  Corbin is standing in front of me sporting a smug ass expression with my ear bud swinging from his fingertips.

  “Hello, Kennedy. It’s been a long time.” He breathes softly into my ear, causing a shiver to escape, sending my heart racing as I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “I need this for my workout.” He gestures to a large metal bar hanging against the wall behind me. He presses gently against me as he retrieves the bar and then returns to his station. I feel the heat race over my skin, and brush my hand along my brow, wiping away perspiration. I look over to Justeen and get a knowing look in response.

  “Is that, Corbin Nash?” I ask as I turn to face her.

  “Yep.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You know exactly why. Even with time, some things never change.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “Wasn’t it you who had a mad crush on him in high school?”

  “Shh. No. I just… thought he was cute.”

  “Yeah, sure you did, Skank.”

  I laugh as I finish my last set, glancing over in Corbin’s direction, and I stop dead. Watching him lift weights is such a heavenly sight. His shirt rises, displaying his abs, and he has that famous dipped V I adore. His muscles flex and ripple, disappearing beneath the waistband of his gym shorts. A tingle in my core radiates heat between my thighs, dampening my panties. He looks so much bigger than I remember, and last time I saw him, his body definitely wasn’t as defined and sculpted as it is now. Now everything about Corbin Nash drips sex appeal.

  Damn! He must’ve done fifty pull-ups since I started gawking at him. I close my eyes for a moment, imagining the heat of his hard body pressed against mine. I can almost caress the tightness of hi
s muscles under my hands.

  He drops and looks over his shoulder in my direction. My pulse kicks up, beating so hard it feels as if it’s going to jump right out of my chest. I feel as if I have been caught red-handed cheating, and my chest squeezes tight like a rock was placed against my heart.

  I can’t be having these thoughts of another man. What’s wrong with me? You’re married, Kennedy. Married. I remind myself. I can’t take any more: I need to get out of here, now.

  I hurry to the locker room, undo my lock and throw it open grab out my bag and jacket. Just as I’m about to step outside the gym door, I sneak a glance in Corbin’s direction. He’s watching me with a concerned look on his flawless face. My hands start to tremble, sending my pulse to overdrive beating erratically against my eardrums, followed by the pins and needles sensation around my lips.

  What’s with this damn nervous feeling that comes over me whenever I’m around him? I’m almost out the door as Justeen rushes after me.

  “Are you okay? It’s Corbin, isn’t it? You’ve always had this weird reaction to him.”

  I walk faster, darting right out in front of an oncoming car and jump in response to the blaring horn. I hold up my hand and mouth, I’m sorry. I head straight to my car, unlock it, fling open my door and face Justeen.

  “No. It’s not that,” I lie. “I have to go. I’ll see you here same time tomorrow. I need to get myself under control. I’m sorry, Justeen.”

  She nods, concern beaming from her eyes. I plop into my seat, turn on the ignition, and crank up the radio. I drop my head in my hands and lean into the steering wheel. I have to stop by my parents to pick up Ashlynn and then go straight home where I do not want to be.

  Shit! My stomach flips and turns making it ache. I can generally control my anxiety, keeping it to a minimum. Seeing Corbin again has brought back so many misplaced feelings, like I time traveled back in time to my high school days. I know it’s not Corbin’s fault, dredging up these feelings of guilt for still harboring so many emotions for him. He’s sexier than I could have ever imagined and still holds so many pieces of my heart. He’s in my brain and under my skin, and I haven’t even spoken a word to him.