Irreplaceable
Angela Graham
Copyright 2013, Angela Graham.
This book is intended for mature audiences only and contains content that may be upsetting to some readers.
Reader discretion advised.
Editor—Jen Juneau
Book Designer—E.E. Long, Biblio/Tech
All Rights Reserved.
This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.
“It’s often just enough to be with someone. I don’t need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You’re not alone.”
—Marilyn Monroe
Table of Contents
Chapter One—Sweet Dreams No More
Chapter Two—Strength
Chapter Three—Control
Chapter Four—Scars
Chapter Five—Hard Truths
Chapter Six—Head Games
Chapter Seven—Undercover
Chapter Eight—Poker Face
Chapter Nine—Snow Angels
Chapter Ten—Naked
Chapter Eleven—Neighbors
Chapter Twelve—Haunted
Chapter Thirteen—Birthday Ultimatums
Chapter Fourteen—Bombshells
Chapter Fifteen—Reality Crashes
Chapter Sixteen—Revealing
Chapter Seventeen—Best-Laid Plans
Chapter Eighteen—Preparation
Chapter Nineteen—Seduction 101
Chapter Twenty—Sister Act
Chapter Twenty-One—Interest
Chapter Twenty-Two—Cupid
Chapter Twenty-Three—Testing
Chapter Twenty-Four—Blindsided
Chapter Twenty-Five—Collateral
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Sweet Dreams No More
In a haze of raw, undeniable passion, his strong hands gripped the backs of my thighs, torturously working their way to my ass, where his skillful fingers kneaded and teased me into surrendering to his every demand. His breath was thick and minty, with a hint of bourbon, and left me craving more. Goose bumps flared over my blazing skin. The weather outside was a numbing twenty degrees, yet I was heated from the inside out.
A giggle escaped my lips when he lifted me from the ground, my legs finding their way around his waist as his seductive growl kissed my soul. My hands were relentless, snaking under his shirt and over the toned muscles of his back. My eyelids fluttered wildly in a vain attempt to hold his gaze. The harder I fought to watch his every move, the deeper I lost myself in our moment of hunger.
Everything inside me screamed for more and I ached, truly pained with anticipation. Grinding myself against his hard body, I rolled my hips, demanding every part of him. The cool brick wall dug into my back, the thick coat I wore seconds earlier now lying abandoned on the blacktop beside us.
A lurid groan spilled from my swollen lips when his hands dug into my hair, his lips nibbling the corner of mine, the searing passion between us uncontrollable. Forsaking all logical thought, I submitted to his reckless frenzy, my lips quivering as his hand slid down the front of my dress. He tore it open in one swift move, leaving me bare and at his will.
“I need you, Cassandra.”
Oh God, I needed him. I burned for his touch. It was the closest to serenity I’d ever felt, and I never wanted to lose it. His lips ravaged mine, taking my breath and eliciting panting when they began their descent down my jaw. His tongue ignited a trail straight to my breasts, which were on full display for his eyes only. The scruff of his jaw scratched across my skin, further awakening every hidden emotion and greedy desire I possessed.
The world around us ceased to exist. He and I were all that mattered—all I felt, saw, and needed. Lost in the strength of his grip and power of his lust, I remained at his mercy, fisting his short waves of hair as he dropped to his knee.
My head fell back, savoring his tongue working its magic down my stomach. A delicious purr spilled from my open mouth, expressing everything my brain couldn’t process into words. I wanted more. I wanted it all, but in an instant, the rough, needy clutch of his fingers and moistness of his mouth were gone; the indescribable emotions he’d awoken in me were no more.
Dazed, I whipped my head back and forth, desperately searching the darkness that now engulfed me.
“Logan?”
Panic set in, filling my veins with fear-induced adrenaline. I reached down for the pieces of my tattered dress, the frosty air now stinging my clammy skin in his absence, only to find they were gone as well. There I stood, naked and vulnerable, alone in the night.
“Logan, please…don’t leave me.”
I stumbled forward, struggling to adjust my sight to see anything other than black. My hands smacked into another wall, and it hit me.
The alley. I was in the alley.
The air was pulled from my lungs, legs quaking as the harsh words he’d spoken replayed through me.
“I want to fuck you. Here and now. I’m tired of waiting.”
“Logan!” My hands shielded my ears, shaking my head to make it go away. Make it stop. He wouldn’t say that. Wouldn’t treat me like another whore.
“Come back! Don’t leave me.” My words dripped into a slurred sob as tears sprung from my eyes, distorting my vision further.
Where was he? Why would he leave me like this? He wouldn’t—not me. He cared about me. He had to be there…somewhere.
“Logan, please!” I cried out, a cracked whimper pouring from my soul as I fell to my knees, helpless, terrified, and completely alone. Something in my heaving chest broke.
My heart. It had to be.
With my hands covering my face, palms pooling with salty tears, my ears rang with a buzzing horn. I looked up, squinting into the distance.
There was a light ahead. Someone was coming back for me.
Logan.
It had to be Logan. None of it was real. He would never say those things. Never toss me aside.
The light drew closer, a blinding ray suddenly racing toward me.
I lifted my trembling hands over my eyes, tilting my head, anxious to make out the approaching figure. It was so bright, too intense, and glaring into the wetness of my eyes. I couldn’t see, couldn’t understand, until the car horn blared through the air. Suddenly it was on me, crashing, barreling my body into nothing until all I felt was pain as the unknown consumed me.
I jerked up, fighting to catch my breath.
The familiar dry air of the hospital room eased me back onto the thin pillows on the small bed. It was all a dream—a horrible nightmare I could never escape. Five long days trapped in tiny rooms, and every night I closed my eyes and found him waiting for me. Each kiss took away the painful memory of that night, slowly erasing it until I was lost in his arms in that dark alley. His touch and longing were all I felt, all I lived for there. But it wasn’t real.
Nothing was real anymore—not the need to feel him, my body entangled with his, lost in each other. I wanted that while I was there, wanted him: Logan.
But then it was gone. The haunting memory of the accident—the fear, the cold, the cruel lingering pain—woke me and hurled me back to reality every time. He didn’t want me like I did him. It was all in my head, exactly as it had been with Mark, yet I was too blinded by their charm to realize it.
“Hi honey. You awake?”
Of course I was awake. How could I sleep knowing what awaited me in my dreams?
I stared at the wall, facing away, but gave a slight nod. From my bed, I was unable to see out the tall windows, but I’d counted every single shape on the dull drapes over the last three days. I spent every w
aking moment too ashamed to cry. I did it to myself, and now I was enduring the consequences: anger, pain, hurt, betrayal, and loss. So many emotions consumed me, but only once did I shed tears for him.
It was the day I first awoke in ICU, a few days earlier—the day I opened my eyes and found him there, so broken and tortured. He had no right to be the one in agony, to beg me to forget. How could I?
I shook my head, unable to inhale a soothing breath for fear of the reckoning my bruised ribs would set upon me if I did. I never wanted to relive the heartbreak and devastation of that night again.
“I talked to your doctor, and he said you’re doing great. The cut on your leg is healing, and it doesn’t look like you’ll need to stay past Friday.”
The cut? I winced at her euphemism for the deep gash running down my thigh that ripped into my muscles and nearly damaged my nerves. Luck, the doctors had told me.
Funny. I didn’t feel very lucky.
“Honey, did you hear me? You’ll be going home in three days.”
“Great.” My voice wasn’t my own. It was hoarse, and laced with numbness.
The patter of my mother’s feet bustling around the room as she hummed a lullaby from my childhood helped keep my mind from spiraling into the ocean of melancholy I’d been drowning in the last few days. She was tidying up the room, even though it was no different from how it looked the previous day.
At least, not other than the newest flowers that arrived.
“I see you got more flowers delivered. They’re gorgeous. Logan, I’m guessing?”
Try as I had, the one thing I couldn’t escape was the amount of lavish bouquets that decorated the small, dreary room. Were they unbelievably breathtaking? Yes. Were they from Logan? I could only assume, since nobody I knew had that amount of money, or such impeccable taste. Only the first delivery came with a card, and it was still in place on a thin, plastic stick peeking out of the vase of pink peonies beside my bed. They were my favorite flowers, and he knew it. I didn’t know how, but he did.
“I went to see him yesterday.” Hesitation was heavy in her tone.
My ears perked against my will.
“Why?” It was all I could muster.
Hilary, Luke, and Caleb had been regulars there, but Logan was a no-show after he’d left me a crying, scared mess. I didn’t know why I expected differently. He didn’t care about me. It wasn’t real—I told myself that constantly. I was a conquest to him, nothing more, and all he felt now was guilt. I could smell it in the flowers. But whatever he was feeling, it didn’t matter anyway. It was over.
The bed dipped down behind me, and my mother’s hand attempted to smooth out the rigid posture of my spine. I waited for her to explain, irritated I’d even asked.
“He called me, wanted to meet for lunch...and I agreed.”
How lovely of her! I fought to quiet my nerves as I listened, fury stewing, unable to find my voice to tell her I didn’t want to know any more.
“I don’t know what happened between you two that night, but I do know that he looks like he hasn’t slept since. Don’t get upset, but…he’s paid all of your expenses here, and…asked me to give you this. Or, more so, deposit this into your bank account.”
“What?” I rolled over, ignoring the sting in my bruised ribs. She handed me a check, and I could only sit there with my jaw dropped, gaping at it. Fifty thousand dollars. So that’s it. He doesn’t come back to visit, but sends a check.
My blood boiled.
“You’re going to need a new car, and—”
“I don’t want his money, Mom!” I ripped the check in half over and over again, taking my fury out on the small paper until I could tear it no more. “Tell him no! The answer is no!”
I dropped the tiny pieces off the side of the bed, wanting to make it all disappear, but the insult was heavy on my heart nevertheless.
“Cassie, be reasonable. The other driver didn’t have insurance. It could take years to see a dime from that guy. He’s an unemployed drunk, not to mention the cheap insurance you have isn’t in a hurry to pay up.” She sighed and took my hand. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you don’t like handouts, but we’d never be able to afford this hospital bill or anything else that you may need. Let him help. We can save up to pay him back.”
Turning my head, I focused back on the drapes and let out a ragged breath. Tears glossed my eyes and I bit my bottom lip to control my quivering chin.
I had nothing. I knew I couldn’t afford the bill, but taking money from Logan was not the answer. After another deep, painful breath, I looked back at her, willing the tears away. Her expression was hopeful.
“I’ll refinance my house. I can—”
“You will not!” Mom leaned back, scowling at me as though she’d eaten something bitter. “Your grandparents left you that house to live in and enjoy, not to mortgage and possibly lose if you can’t keep up with loan payments. Your inheritance went to pay your tuition, so I know you can’t have much left.”
She stood up and began pacing the room. After a few laps, she stopped and approached the bed, frown lines set on her forehead. “You’re out of work for at least the next six weeks, Cassie. You need Logan’s help. I’m sorry, but I’m telling him you’ll accept it, asking him for a new check, and depositing the money myself.”
“I’m not a child anymore. I can take care of things my own way. I don’t want his help.”
My mother’s face fell. “We’ll discuss this later, but I’m going to do what is right for you, whether you like it or not. You’re my baby, and I won’t watch you suffer when you don’t have to.”
The room grew eerily silent for far too long before the door creaked opened. Luke strolled in, holding a small paper bag of food from Haven with his messenger tote slung over his shoulder, oblivious to his hostile surroundings.
“Oh…hi, Mrs. Clarke.” I could tell he wasn’t expecting to see her, but his cheerful smile didn’t falter until he looked my way. “I can come back later if…” he started, concern creeping over his features as he stopped halfway through the door.
“No, it’s fine,” my mother replied, anxiety still etched onto her brow. “My shift starts soon, so I was just leaving.”
She grabbed her purse from the chair beside me and leaned down, placing a quick kiss on my forehead. “We’ll figure everything out,” she whispered. “Just get some rest. I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too.”
Relieved she was going, I was grateful Luke showed up when he did. I needed the distraction. I couldn’t stomach the idea of accepting anything from Logan; flowers were my limit. Luke shuffled out of the way as my mother passed through the door.
I noticed the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. He’d visited every afternoon during his lunch break since I was moved from ICU. He would bring board games and sneak in snacks, and was the only visitor who didn’t try to coddle me.
“Everything all right?”
With a shrug, I snorted. “One guess.”
“Well, I brought your favorite: grilled cheese.” There it was as he opened the bag: his sweet, all-teeth smile. It settled me so easily.
He waited for me to maneuver into a more comfortable position to eat, then handed me my afternoon snack.
“Not even three days and you already know my favorite sandwich. Stalker, much?”
Luke chuckled, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. He was so easy to be with—no drama, no expectations, no underlying tension.
“Are you familiar with these stalker types?” Luke raised his brows, humor in his eyes as he pulled his own grilled cheese from the bag.
My shoulders rose playfully alongside the grin on my face until I took a giant bite, closing my eyes and savoring the cheesy goodness.
“So, mind telling me why your mother left here looking like she just found out the doctors changed their minds about sending you home Friday after all?”
“You heard?”
“Yeah, Hilary made sure everyone in H
armony knew this morning after your mother called her,” he explained.
“Of course she did.”
Hilary had to be beyond excited. She hated seeing me there, and every visit ended with her in tears no matter how much I tried to convince her I was going to be as good as new soon enough.
Luke’s lips twitched. “You know she means well.”
I nodded in agreement.
“All right, so I have thirty minutes till my butt has to be back in my office chair. Your pick: Battleship or…” He pulled out a travel-sized version of the game and sat it down, reaching back in with a wide, cheeky grin. “Candy Land?”
I let out my first real guttural laugh of the week, which was followed immediately by a tearful cry. My ribs rumbled in my chest, and my body dropped back against my pillows, pain slashing through me.
The chuckle grew into a nasty groan. I sucked in my bottom lip to control the scream about to burst out and fill the halls. It hurt worse than nearly anything I’d experienced before. Only one other wound claimed the most painful spot, and that was my broken heart and fractured confidence in men.
“Sorry, you want me to get the nurse? Get you some more pain meds?”
My head shook just the slightest bit, not wanting to move as the throbbing began to subside.
“You’re too tough for your own good.” He let out a relieved breath and ran his hand over his forehead. “Okay, let’s try this again…slowly. No laughing. Battleship or…”
I sucked in my lips again, hands gripping the rails of the bed, but this time bracing myself to keep the laughter at bay. His face was so serious, which only made it harder.
“Battleship!” I whispered, biting my bottom lip to control my breathing.
“Good choice.” He chuckled and cleared the tray table hovering above me to set up the game.
As he focused on placing his ships, he asked, “It was about Logan, huh?”
“What?” I looked up from the game, melted cheese stuffed in my mouth. He hadn’t mentioned Logan the entire week. I honestly wondered if he even knew about him.
Irreplaceable (Harmony) Page 1