Heaven Before Hell: A Post-Apocalyptic Paranormal Romance Series (Prequel to Heaven in Hell)

by Dia Cole

  “Trust Morgan to go to the dark side,” joked Ronnie. “No one’s going to drink to that.”

  Reed flashed me a quick, unfathomable look.

  My hand involuntarily spasmed around my cup. The kitchen spun around me. My stomach churned and bile clawed its way up the back of my throat. I jumped off Scooter’s lap and promptly crashed into the table.

  One of the bottles fell over. The piney smell of gin filled the kitchen.

  Morgan cursed and stared down at the growing wet spot in his lap.

  Ronnie grabbed a wad of paper towels and starting mopping up the spill. “Ms. Walker apparently can’t handle her liquor.”

  “Are you okay?” Cami and Scooter asked at the same time.

  I held my hand up to my mouth, afraid if I opened it up, I’d start projectile vomiting.

  “Dude, she’s gonna hurl,” Morgan said, sliding back from the table.

  Scooter stood. “Come on, I’ll take you to the bathroom.”

  Reed was suddenly standing between us. “You’re not taking her anywhere, man.”

  The two men scowled at each other.

  I stared at Reed in confusion. He never acted like this. He hated conflict and was normally the most peace-loving person I knew. My stomach lurched again. There was no time to analyze his behavior. Ignoring the guys, I took off down the hallway and made it into the bathroom in time to spill my guts into the toilet.

  The cool tile felt wonderful against my heated face. I don’t know how long I lay on the floor, but eventually I used the bathroom sink to pull myself up. The face that stared back at me in the mirror made me cringe. I looked like something that needed to be scraped out of a Dumpster.

  After brushing my teeth, I tore off my clothes, kicked off my boots, and took a long hot shower. The water felt amazing beating against my sore muscles and the sweet smell of my body wash burned away the smell of alcohol and vomit.

  Oh, God. Why did I act like such an idiot?

  I should’ve stopped drinking an hour ago. And could I have been more obvious in my reaction to Morgan’s statement?

  What do the others think?

  My stomach rolled again.

  Only Reed, Eden, and Duncan knew the dark truth about my past. And I needed it to stay that way. I turned the water off with a hard yank. Pissed that I let myself get into such a situation, I toweled off with a fervor that left my skin pink.

  There was a soft knock at the door.

  Crap. I really didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. I toga-wrapped myself in the towel and jerked the door open. “What?”

  Reed stood outside in the hallway. Seeing the expression on my face, he held up a sports drink like a peace offering. “Here. This might make you feel better.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed the drink, pushed past him, and stumbled into my room.

  He followed me in and closed the door behind me.

  I sat down on the bed and drank some of the blue drink. He was right. It did make me feel better. Not that I’d let him know that with the patronizing way he was acting tonight.

  Reed leaned against the door, his arms crossed. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his blue flannel shirt and the scars that marred his upper arms peeked through.

  Trying to avoid his pensive stare, I picked at the embroidered flowers on my pillow. “I acted like a freak back there. Do you think any of them realized…” I couldn’t utter the words. Just living with the knowledge that I’d killed someone was bad enough. Actually admitting it to others would be devastating.

  “No. They don’t have a clue. They just thought your night of slamming shots caught up to you.”

  I let out a relieved sigh. Good. One less thing to worry about.

  Reed cleared his throat.

  I didn’t care for the judgey way he was scowling down at me. “What’s your deal?”

  “I’m worried about you. Normally, you’re the one keeping it together while we all go crazy. What’s going on?”

  Since Gran died, I’d been the one giving lectures. I didn’t like the role reversal. Clenching the bottle between my knees, I finger-combed my hair. “Look, I just wanted to cut loose a little tonight. Don’t give me such a hard time. Why don’t you rejoin your friends out there?”

  “I sent everyone home. Well, everyone but Cami and Ronnie. They’re too trashed to drive and seem to want to get to know one another better.”

  I snorted. “Great. I can’t think of two people who’d be worse for each other.” Ronnie with his obsessive nature, and Cami with her love ‘em and leave ‘em philosophy.

  “I can. You and that Scooter guy. What the hell was up with that?”

  Unable to hold his stare, I glanced down into the unnatural blue color of my drink. It was true. Scooter was just about the last person I’d normally consider befriending, much less flirting with. Not that I’d admit any of that to Reed. Deciding to go on the offensive, I glared up at him through narrowed eyes. “Why were you being such a dick to that guy?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the top of my dresser where Gran’s collection of porcelain frogs cavorted across the mahogany finish. “That poser didn’t deserve you, and he was out of line.”

  “Really? The guy didn’t pinch my ass once.” I threw my head back and laughed. The room tilted wildly making me immediately regret the motion.

  Reed didn’t seem to get the joke. He crossed the room and sat down next to me on the bed. “You’ve never shown any interest in a guy before.”

  Feeling defensive, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not gay.” Kristy and Po, my two best friends in high school, had been lesbians. That led to more than a few people suspecting the same thing about me.

  “I never thought you were. But you avoided the dating scene like the plague.”

  “You’re one to talk. You’ve never even gone on a date.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. Reed’s severe body image issues were likely the reason for his empty dance card. The guy wore a sweatshirt swimming, for Christ’s sake.

  He rubbed a hand across his chest. The flannel hid the worst of the scars from the accident, but the puckered flesh peeked through his collar. “Yeah, but not for the reason you think. I’ve been waiting for someone.”

  That stirred my interest. I remembered how he’d toasted to my statement about never having been in love. “Really? How come I’ve never heard you talk about anyone?”

  And why did the fact that he was in love with someone bother me so damn much?

  He didn’t answer.

  The room seemed to rock back and forth. Damn. I was still pretty drunk. I set the sports drink on the floor and reclined back on the bed. “Fine, keep your secrets. As for me, maybe I’m tired of being alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” Reed said so softly I had to tilt my head to hear him.

  “I know. I have you and Eden, but it’s not the same thing. I think…I think I’m ready to try dating.”

  God. I can’t believe I’m actually considering that.

  For some reason, I thought of the Goth couple. I ran my fingers along the soft suede fabric of my comforter. Some part of me was envious of the way they could so freely give themselves to each other.

  Love I didn’t need. Love led to pain as my mother’s fate clearly indicated. But maybe there could be lust and companionship without love.

  Javier’s offer came to mind. Would it be the end of the world if I took him up on his proposal? He was a gorgeous man. I could do a hell of a lot worse. Plus, he’d pay dearly for my time.

  Crap. I must be trashed to be considering the drug lord’s offer.

  I buried my head in my hands.

  The mattress dipped.

  I opened my eyes to find Reed stretched out on the bed next to me. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.” He rested on one elbow, his eyes lightening to the soft blue of a summer sky. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He cupped his hand around my cheek.

  “Reed, what are you do�
�”

  He sealed his mouth over mine.

  7

  I gasped in shock. The velvety heat of Reed’s mouth sent my thoughts scattering like confetti in the wind. In all the years we’d known each other, I’d never considered him a romantic interest. Not knowing how to respond, I froze.

  He nibbled my lips and I parted them instinctively.

  He thrust his tongue into my mouth.

  I gagged and moved my head.

  Our teeth clicked together awkwardly.

  I giggled, my head swimming in alcohol and the unrealness of the moment.

  He pulled back, his eyes crinkling in humor. “Let’s try that again.”

  Before I could summon a coherent response, he kissed me again. This time slowly.

  When I sank back on the pillow, he followed me, his lips nipping at mine.

  His flavor—clove with a hint of juniper spice from the gin heated my blood. It felt so damn good to be kissed. To share someone’s body heat.

  This is wrong, my inner voice warned as my tongue danced with his.

  But I’m so tired of being alone.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

  With a groan, he rose up over me. His hard, lean muscles pressed me into the softness of the mattress. “I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he said against my lips.

  Riding the alcohol buzz and the haze of desire, I mumbled something unintelligible.

  This feels so good.

  My breasts seemed to swell, my nipples becoming rigid against the soft terry cloth of the towel. I clenched my thighs together as an unfamiliar heat burned between them.

  Why had I avoided this for so long?

  He tore his mouth from mine and traced his lips down my neck.

  Every bit of skin he touched was sensitized. Goose bumps shot down the left side of my body as his goatee scraped my collarbone. My heart pounded in my ears. Desire pooled low in my body.

  The towel gaped open.

  For a moment, I stared stupidly down at my naked body.

  Reed let out a hiss of air. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He reached out and cupped my breast gently in his trembling hand.

  The shrieking of my inner voice penetrated the fuzziness of my brain.

  This is wrong. Reed can’t be my lover. There’s no coming back from this…

  “We need to stop—” The words died on my lips the second he ran his thumb over my nipple. “Oh, God.”

  Damn. That feels amazing.

  I arched against his hand as each erotic pull of his fingers sent lightning straight to my core. My inner muscles tightened and heated.

  “Do you like that?” His voice was husky in my ear.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Pressure coiled tighter and tighter inside me. My legs moved restlessly against the sheets.

  “Good,” he said sounding breathless. “I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.”

  Part of me jolted in surprise at his confession, but the other part of me, the blissed-out, intoxicated me, was already looking forward to whatever was coming next.

  Moving faster than my addled brain could track, he slid his hand between my legs and squeezed.

  Shock and pain lanced through the fuzziness in my head. “Ouch.” I jerked away.

  He pulled his hand back and flushed. “Sorry. Haven’t done this before. Tell me what you like.”

  I fought to focus on his heavy-lidded gaze. The mattress seemed to undulate underneath me like a waterbed.

  Crap, I’m so drunk.

  I put a hand against his chest to steady myself. I could feel his heart pounding a furious beat under my palm.

  “I’ll do anything you want.” He rocked back on his knees, his hands going to the top button of his shirt. He hesitated. A mixture of fear and desire flashed across his face.

  I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.

  What are we doing?

  I grabbed his hand to try to stop him from undoing the button. “Reed, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “I want you to see me.” He shook off my hand, unbuttoned his shirt, and tossed it onto the floor.

  I couldn’t help letting out a shocked gasp. Despite living together for years, he’d always kept his chest hidden. Now, seeing the overwhelming extent of damage, I couldn’t believe how he’d survived the accident.

  Seeing my stunned reaction, Reed clenched his jaw. “I know I look like a freak.”

  “You’re not a freak,” I said quickly. There was no denying his scars were intense. I swept my hands over his chest. The webbed burn scars were like braille under the pads of my fingertips. Lower, along his abdomen were the smooth silvery scars from the shrapnel that had impaled him in the accident. They mingled with the thicker, raised incision scars from the multiple surgeries that saved his life.

  His breath caught and he stared down at me. It seemed as if he was desperately trying to read me. His fingers hovered over the fly of his jeans.

  The significance of the moment burned away my buzz. Thinking clearly for the first time, I dropped my hand away. “We can’t do this.”

  His face fell. “Because of my scars.”

  “No, because we’re drunk. We’ll regret this in the morning.” I pulled the edges of my towel back together, covering myself.

  Instead of moving away, he leaned down and cupped my face with his hands. “I won’t regret this.” The raw emotion in his gaze pinned me to the bed. “I love you, Lee. I’ve always loved you.”

  His words had me reeling.

  He loved me? Like really loved me? How the hell did I miss that?

  I scooted back on the bed, until my back smacked into the headboard. “Reed, I love you—”

  He grinned. “I knew it. I knew you felt the sam—”

  “—like a brother,” I finished softly.

  “But…” Confusion and hurt etched across his face. “What about…” He motioned between us.

  I tugged the towel tighter around me. “A mistake.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You like me touching you. I know you do.”

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but couldn’t lie. I settled for the truth. “Reed, I’m trashed.”

  Reed pressed his lips together. It looked as though he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nodded as if coming to some kind of decision. “You’re right.”

  I let out a deep breath.

  Thank God. He understands.

  “We shouldn’t do this when we’ve been drinking. Our first time should be special. Something we both remember.”

  He’s not getting it.

  I shook my head. “No. Reed, you and I aren’t—”

  Before I could finish, he leaned forward and kissed me quickly on my lips. “Get some sleep.” He smiled, slid off the bed, and headed toward the door. “We’ll talk in the morning.” With a wink, he stepped out and closed the door.

  Guilt and shame overwhelmed me. My shoulders slumped.

  What have I done?

  Flopping back against the pillows, I stared bleary-eyed up at the ceiling fan. Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse. I fought against the tears.

  No. I’ll fix this. Tomorrow, I’ll set things right with Reed. I’ll tell him we can never be together that way. Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal…

  8

  A soul-harrowing scream ripped me from sleep.

  What the hell?

  I jumped out of bed, knocking over the sports drink bottle. Blue liquid poured across the wood floor. The sickly sweet smell made my stomach curdle.

  My head pounded the same frenetic beat as my heart. I licked my parched lips, my mouth as dry as a Saguaro Valley summer.

  God, what’s going on and why did I drink myself into the mother of all hangovers?

  Based on the bright light filtering through my curtains, it was early in the morning.

  Another scream rang out.

  I rescued Reed’s shirt from the floor and threw it on. Not bothering to button it, I bolted
out the door.

  Reed met me in the hallway wearing boxers and a white T-shirt. “What’s going on?” he said, rubbing his jaw.

  “Dunno.” The sight of him brought me back to last night’s confession.

  He’s in love with me. Oh, God.

  My face heated at the way his gaze roved my body. Self-consciously, I quickly buttoned up the shirt. The memories of what we’d done the night before came rushing back to me. I wanted to hang my head in shame.

  How could I’ve let that happen? And with Reed, of all people?

  Clearly processing last night much differently, Reed’s gaze warmed with emotion. He reached for my hand. “About last night…”

  A loud crash from the front of the house made me jump. I straightened my shoulders. Reed and I had more important things to focus on than the seismic shift in our relationship. “Later,” I whispered. “Someone’s trashing the house.” I motioned toward his bedroom door. “Call the police.”

  “My cell phone’s dead,” he said shaking his head.

  Damn it. Can nothing go my way?

  “Get your bat then.”

  He darted back in his room and emerged seconds later with a wooden baseball bat, a souvenir from years of Little League.

  “Hurry.”

  Together we ran down the hallway, both skidding to a stop at the entryway to the living room.

  The vertical blinds were open, and the floor-to-ceiling front windows bathed the space in bright light. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust. Once I could see, my brain struggled to make sense of the chaos.

  Gran’s antique floor lamp had been knocked over. The glass coffee table was shattered. The recliner was lying on its side. And blood…blood was everywhere.

  The windows were splattered crimson. Blood pooled around the white shag throw rug, turning it red.

  “Jesus. What happened here?” Reed asked, tightening his grip on the bat.

  Wide-eyed, all I could do was take a hesitant step into the room.

  The coppery tang of fresh blood was so strong that I tasted it in the back of my throat. A river of it flowed from behind the brown leather couch.

  With my heart in my throat, I peered around the armrest.