King Series Firsts Box Set: King, Lawless & Preppy Part One
Page 69
I wanted to both laugh and cry at the sight of it.
Suddenly, it was all too real.
I was going back. Back to where it all started. Back to where it all ended.
Back to where it would only just begin.
CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO
DRE
I raised my trembling hand to the door and knocked. The sound of squealing children playing in the back yard echoing over the house.
I was about to change my mind and turn around when a blond girl with the lightest-blue eyes I’d ever seen opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked with a small but friendly smile.
“Um.. Hi, I’m Andrea Capulet, but I go by Dre,” I said, holding out my hand. She shook it tentatively. “I’m a friend or, I was a friend of Samuel’s. Preppy’s.” My chest tightened as his name crossed my lips. It had been years, and although I expected that feeling to die off, it never had. If anything, it had only gotten worse.
The girl remained silent, looking me over several times like she was trying to place me. “I’m Ray,” she finally offered. “What can I do for you?”
“Ray, Hi. I just wondered, ” I trailed off, looking down to my feet.
“Do I know you?”
“She was going to be a BBB once,” Bear said, coming to stand behind her. “You ain’t here to drop off any kids with uncanny resemblance to people who may or may not be here, are you?” he asked, and I couldn’t quite tell if it was a joke. Shit, I was surprised he remembered me, but obviously he didn’t remember everything because last time I checked you couldn’t get pregnant through anal. My cheeks grew red at my own thoughts.
I shook my head. “Hi, Bear,” I said with a small nervous wave. I pushed my glasses up my nose. Bear looked me over and as if he’d decided I wasn’t a threat, he’d turned around and went back inside the house.
Ray seemed to agree. “Well come on in,” she said, stepping aside.
Another large and equally beautiful man was sitting in the living room. He lifted his head and glanced at me briefly before Bear sat back down and they both leaned over the coffee table, speaking softly, instantly deep in what seemed like an important conversation.
Ray waved in their direction. “Don’t mind King and Bear, they’ve been a little crazy this past week with all that’s gone down,” she told me, as she led me through a neat and newly updated living space that smelled of fresh paint and cleaning products, down a narrow hallway. My heels clacked against the shining hardwood. She stopped in front of a closed door.
Preppy’s door.
Or, what used to be Preppy’s door.
My heart stilled.
I was suddenly mad at everyone who insisted that I come here and get closure by talking to his friends. It was too much. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t breathe. My memories flooded with his face. His sent.
HIM.
“No, I mean, I don’t need to go in there…” I started backing away from the door.
Ray sighed, “I know what you mean. It’s hard to see at first. The prognoses shifts around a bit from doctor to doctor, but he’s a fighter. We have hope and we have time.”
“Huh?” I asked, confused as to what she was talking about when she pushed open the door and stepped aside. Tentatively, I entered the room, taking a deep sigh of relief when I noticed the room wasn’t at all like it used to be. Preppy’s things were no longer there. The relief was followed by deep disappointment and a sick feeling. A longing for what once was.
For who once was.
The walls, once a deep blue, were now a bubble gum pink with stenciled daisies and clouds surrounding the window. A Cinderella lamp sat upon a small white nightstand next to the bed.
Of course his things weren’t there you idiot, because he’s…
I paused. My ears picked up a steady beeping sound, my eyes followed the sound across the room to the IV stand in the corner, set up next to a rollaway hospital bed. Lines raced across the screen that was mounted below the IV, little green mountains peaked and fell, followed by a chirp of the machine in even two second increments.
“I don’t understand,” I said, not allowing my eyes to travel to the bed. I wasn’t sure if I was afraid of what I would see or what I wouldn’t see. WHO I wouldn’t see. I turned back around to face Ray. “Who…who is that?” I asked, dread and hope fighting a battle in the pit of my stomach…and my heart. I pointed to the mound of blankets rising and falling in rhythm.
“Wait, you don’t know do you?” Ray breathed, “I thought everyone in Logan’s Beach knew by now.”
I shook my head. “I’m not from here.” Not able to take another minute of my rapidly beating heart fighting its way out of my chest, I spun around and small step by small step I made my way over to the bed where a shell of a man lay unconscious with tubes running through his nose and mouth. His eyes and cheeks sunken in. His hands resting above the clean navy comforter. I didn’t even need to see the tattoos running across his knuckles to know it was him, but there they were, in all their familiar glory.
I let out a strangled cry, that startled even myself, as hot tears fell down my face. Elation and an overwhelming feeling of confusion smashed into me, like I was finally run over by that train. I leaned over him, careful not to disturb any of the tubes, I pressed the side of my face against his chest, I needed to hear it for myself and sure enough, it was there. The thump thump. The most beautiful sound in the world. His heart.
Beating.
Heavy footsteps entered the room. King, Bear, and a girl with pinkish-red hair stood around the doorway, gaping at me as if I were the one risen from the dead. “How?” I asked, without moving my head from his chest. My hand covered one of his own and squeezed as I breathed deeply, inhaling this new life, inhaling him.
“You really didn’t know?” King asked skeptically, pulling Ray into his chest. “Thought everyone knew.”
“No,” I said, although no sound came out so I just mouthed the word. “I didn’t know anything.”
“What’s going on?” the pink haired girl asked. Bear wrapped his arms protectively over her waist, which was when I noticed her rounded belly. Bear leaned down and whispered in her ear. She nodded in some sort of understanding, but continued to stare me down like she was unsure of me at best.
But that didn’t matter. SHE didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered.
Overwhelming joy consumed my entire being. How he was alive didn’t matter just then, all that mattered was that he was alive.
My Preppy.
My Samuel.
“Who exactly are you, again?” Ray asked, staring at me as I practically laid across Preppy’s body.
Reluctantly, I lifted my head from his chest, although I kept my hand over his. I sniffled and wiped the tears streaming down my face. I took a deep breath to steady myself and when I spoke, I made sure I was looking at each and every one of Preppy’s friends. I was about to speak when I was interrupted by a scratchy voice. I spun around and was met with bloodshot amber eyes that were locked on to mine when he spoke.
“She’s my wife.”
Preppy, PART TWO is AVAILABLE NOW!
CLICK HERE
ALSO BY T.M. Frazier
THE PERVERSION TRILOGY
PERVERSION (Book 1)
POSSESSION (Book 2)
PERMISSION (Book 3)
THE OUTSKIRTS DUET
THE OUTSKIRTS (Book 1)
THE OUTLIERS (Book 2)
THE KING SERIES
LISTED IN RECOMMENDED READING ORDER
Jake & Abby’s Story (Standalone)
The Dark Light of Day (Prequel)
King & Doe’s Story (Duet)
KING (Book 1)
TYRANT (Book 2)
Bear & Thia’s Story (Duet)
LAWLESS (Book 3)
SOULLESS (Book 4)
Rage & Nolan’s Story (Standalone)
ALL THE RAGE (Spinoff)
Preppy & Dre’s Story (Triplet)
PREPPY PART ONE (Book 5)
PREPPY PART TWO (Book 6)
PREPPY PART THREE (Book 7)
Smoke & Frankie’s Story (Standalone)
UP IN SMOKE (Spinoff)
COMING IN 2019
NINE, THE TALE OF KEVIN CLEARWATER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
T.M. Frazier
T.M. Frazier never imagined that a single person would ever read a word she wrote when she published her first book. Now, she’s a USA Today bestselling author. Her books have been translated into numerous languages and published all around the world.
She’s still in a state of shock.
T.M. enjoys writing what she calls ‘wrong side of the tracks’ romance with sexy, morally corrupt anti-heroes and ballsy heroines.
Her books have been described as raw, dark and gritty. Basically, what that means, is while some authors are great at describing a flower as it blooms, T.M. is better at describing it in the final stages of decay.
She loves meeting her readers, but if you see her at an event please don’t pinch her because she's not ready to wake up from this amazing dream.
For more information please visit her website www.tmfrazierbooks.com.
Come visit me in Frazierland, my readers group on Facebook! www.facebook.com/groups/tmfrazierland.