by Cassia Leo
At 10:30 p.m., Rory and I begin saying good-bye to all the guests as our car will be arriving at eleven to take us to the airport for the trip to Maui. We find Kenny and Pedro on the dance floor, slow-dancing to “Come Find Me” by Emile Haynie.
Kenny gasps when he sees us and realizes we’re there to say good-bye. “Oh, no. You’re leaving me,” he says, giving Rory a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek because she’s still refusing to let go of Austin.
I give her arm a playful squeeze. “My girl has biceps that don’t quit.”
She rolls her eyes as she turns to Kenny. “We’ll be back in eight days. Don’t forget that you and Pedro are coming with us to see Wicked at the Keller Auditorium when we get back.”
“Psh!” He waves off her reminder and Rory’s eyes widen when she sees a ring on his finger. “Honey, I wouldn’t miss that if I was on life support.”
“Or getting married?” Rory replies.
Kenny’s jaw drops as he clutches his hand to his chest. “You saw it?”
“Uh, how could I miss it? Are you getting married?”
Pedro smiles as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. Kenny bites his lip as he tries to contain his excitement.
“Oh, my God. I want to scream, but I don’t want to wake Austin,” Rory says, and instead of screaming she hands Austin to me so she can give Kenny a proper hug.
Once Kenny and Rory have congratulated each other, Rory demands I give Austin back as we set off to say good-bye to the others. We find my mom, Jenna, and Misha chatting it up at a table not far from the altar. My mom instantly breaks down into tears when she realizes we’re leaving.
“I’m so proud of you two,” she says, giving me a monster bear hug. “I always knew you two would get back together, but what you two have done here tonight has surpassed my wildest dreams. I know Hallie is out there somewhere, cheering you two on every step of the way.”
Rory and my mom wipe away each other’s tears. “Wherever she is, she’s just as proud of you as we are.”
My mom sniffs loudly. “I’ll drop by to give Patricia a break as often as I can while you two are gone. Now go on and have a beautiful honeymoon.”
We find Patricia and James chatting near the elevator and they walk us down to the second floor to get our luggage. The back parking lot is crowded with tired guests trying to sort out their designated drivers and get the hell out of here. We head to the front entrance of Barley Legal, where the car will pick us up soon. Skippy sits obediently at our feet as Rory begins to sob when she realizes it’s time to say good-bye to Austin.
Patricia reaches for the baby. “Rory, he’s going to be fine. Give him here.”
A car drives by with my cousin Hunter hanging out the back passenger window holding a bottle of Barley Legal up in the air. “Houston, we have liftoff!” he shouts, then he guzzles the rest of the beer.
“Put that shit away!” I shout back, and all we hear is the roar of laughter inside the car fading as they drive off. I shake my head as I turn to Rory. “They’d better not be driving drunk. I thought Kenny and Sid coordinated the designated drivers.”
“They did, but participation was voluntary.”
Patricia reaches for Austin again as Troy stumbles out onto the sidewalk with a plate of cake.
“Damn. This is the best fucking cake I’ve ever had,” he slurs through a mouthful as Skippy sits down at his feet, watching for any crumbs that may fall. “You scored mega points with this cake, Rory.”
Rory closes her eyes as she rests her cheek on Austin’s forehead. “I don’t know if I can leave him.”
Troy looks down and sees Skippy waiting patiently for a treat. He breaks off a piece of cake with his fingers and raises his hand as if he’s going to toss the piece of cake into the street. Luckily, he glances at me first and sees the disbelief on my face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, taking the plate of cake away from him. “Go find Georgia so she can take you home.”
He looks at the piece of cake in his hand and giggles. “Oops. Sorry, Skip.” He stuffs the cake in his mouth. “Congratulations, bro,” he says, holding his frosting-covered hand out to me.
I shake my head as I take his hand and give him a man hug. “Thanks, man. Now go sleep it off.”
He flashes us all a drunken half smile as he heads back inside. When I turn around, I find Skippy has stolen the whole slice of cake off the plate in my hand, and he’s now trying to skulk away unnoticed.
“Skippy, come back here,” I call out sternly as he prepares to step off the curb.
He glances back at me, his doggy eyebrows scrunched together in a classic guilty expression. But the moment I take a step toward him, he sets off bounding into the street. Rory lets out a bloodcurdling scream as another car full of cheery wedding guests plows toward him.
I race into the street and swing my arm underneath Skippy’s body, trying to keep my momentum going as the car comes straight at us, but in a state of panic he struggles to get away from me and slides through my arms. There’s no way I’ll be able to pick him up and get to safety fast enough now. As I bend over to scoop him up again, all I see is the grille of the car coming at my face. All I hear is the screech of rubber on asphalt. And in that split second before impact, all I can think is that Rory finally got her answer. This is how the story ends.
My heart stops as my dad rushes into the street. A green Subaru is parked at the curb in front of me, blocking my view of Houston and Skippy. My entire body goes weak and my mom notices just as my arms begin to slacken. She takes Austin from my arms and my heart pounds as I take a few steps to the left. And that’s when I see them.
The driver of the car—Houston’s warehouse manager, Seth—and my dad are standing over Houston and Skippy. The front of the car is about four feet away from where they’re splayed out. Houston is lying on his back on the asphalt grinning as Skippy licks his face. I pull the skirt of my dress up as I step down into the street.
Houston takes Skippy in his arms, chuckling as he hugs him tight. “You almost killed me, you bastard. Over a piece of cake.”
I smile at Seth as I approach and he flashes me an apologetic grin. “You both almost killed me,” I say, standing over Houston.
Houston stands up as my dad takes Skippy by the collar and leads him back onto the sidewalk. “I’m sorry, baby, but Skippy and I are a team. You knew that when you married me.”
I shake my head as we step out of the way so Seth can pass. “Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I love Skippy, but if you ever risk your life like that again, I will personally murder you.”
“Does that mean we won’t be climbing any active volcanoes in Maui?”
A black Mercedes arrives at eleven p.m. sharp to take us to the airport. The driver stuffs our luggage into the trunk as Houston and I say our final good-byes.
I don’t want to wake Austin, who’s sleeping like an angel in my mother’s arms. I also don’t want to leave without squeezing his squishy body just one more time.
I compromise by stroking his feather-soft hair as I whisper in his ear, “I love you, my sweet boy. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa.”
My stomach aches as I walk away from him toward the car. I want so badly to take him with us, but that’s just me being crazy. This isn’t a family vacation. This is a honeymoon.
Houston holds the back door open for me, and I get close enough to smell the leather interior before I freeze as I remember what Kenny said to me the other day.
“Wait.” I step around Houston and knock on the driver’s window. “Can you pop the trunk?”
The driver, a young guy who looks like he’s been eating too much lomi-lomi at the luau, looks a bit confused at first. Then he hits the button to release the lid on the trunk.
Houston follows me to the back of the car. “What are you doing?” he asks, as I try to flip my suitcase over to get to the zipper. “Here. Let me do it.”
He turns the bag over and unzips it for me, then takes
a step back so I can dig through the layers of neatly folded clothing. My fingers bump against something hard. I slide the laptop out and walk it over to my dad.
“Take this with you to the office, please.”
My dad nods. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
When I walk back to the car, Houston has already zipped up the suitcase and slammed the trunk shut. He holds the back door open for me, shaking his head as he watches me slide into the backseat. He rounds the back of the car and takes a seat next to me.
The car drives off toward the 5 freeway entrance as I sit in silence, waiting for Houston to say something about the fact that I tried to sneak the laptop onto our honeymoon. My fingers tap the leather console between us as I stare out at the lights of downtown Portland. We’re crossing over the Broadway Bridge toward I-84 when I finally decide I can’t take it anymore. I open my mouth to speak, but Houston speaks first.
He’s looking out his window at the shimmering surface of the Willamette River when he says, “I’m not mad. I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” I ask anxiously.
He turns to me, and the soft smile he’s wearing puts me at ease. “When Hallie died, I think we can both agree that the worst part was that we didn’t see it coming.”
I nod in agreement. “Which is why it hurt so much when you kept the letter from me.”
He sighs. “If Seth hadn’t stopped his car in time, and you had lost me tonight, that probably would have been the worst part. Knowing that the whole night, while we were celebrating, you were blissfully unaware that it was our last night together. You’d have spent the next few months or years mourning all the things we never got to do. All the things you never got to say.”
My anxiety ratchets up a notch again. “What are you getting at?”
He smiles as he grabs my hand. “Maybe not knowing when someone you love is going to be taken away from you isn’t the worst part. Maybe it’s the best part, because it allows you to enjoy your last holiday with your sister or your last night with your husband.”
I smile as I realize he’s right. “And maybe the key to acceptance is knowing that you did all you could do, and said all you could say.”
He nods as he squeezes my hand and gazes into my eyes. “Promise me that if I die before you, you’ll remember that.”
I let out a soft chuckle as I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
He laughs as he leans over and kisses my temple. “Then, for your sake, I hope you go first.”
I gasp as I push him away. “You’re so mean.”
He laughs as he sits back in his seat. “I’m not that mean. I knew you were hiding that laptop in your suitcase and I never said a word.”
I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if he’s telling the truth. “You didn’t know.”
“Yes, I did,” he replies with a smug grin. “And your editor emailed me a note of congratulations a few days ago, so I also know that your editor told you she wouldn’t be contacting you while we’re on our honeymoon. Which means you were bringing that laptop for no good reason.”
My jaw drops, but I can’t think of a single coherent response.
He laughs. “Caught red-handed, but you’ll learn,” he says, shaking his head. “You can’t get back the time you should have spent climbing your husband’s volcano in Hawaii instead of staring at a computer screen.”
“Oh, so now every time you want me to do something, you’re going to ask what I’d do if it were my last day with you?”
“What would you do if it were your last day with me?”
The question sounds sort of flippant and casual, but I have a feeling he wants a serious answer. I’m silent for a while as I try to think of one, but it only takes a few seconds for the answer to come to me.
“I’d find a way to go with you.”
He smiles as he reaches up and brushes his thumb over my cheekbone. “And that’s why not knowing the ending is the best part.”
Thank you!
Thank you for reading the The Way We Rise! If you enjoyed this series, you might also enjoy my stand alone novel Black Box. Or keep turning the page for a special preview.
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Acknowledgments
I’ve always thought that good fiction is a means of conveying the truth. When I began writing this series in December 2014, I set out to write a love story that conveyed the truth about storytelling, and how it’s such a powerful force to help us heal. I’m not sure if I even came close, but here are the people who helped make this dream a reality.
As always, I have to thank my beta readers: Paula Jackman, Cathy Archer, Sarah Arndt, Kristin Shaw, Carrie Raasch, Erin Fisher, Heather Carver, and Beverly Cindy. This series has an unconventional storyline, told through an unconventional format, with unconventional characters, and these girls never missed a beat. They even agreed to read a book on story structure! Not many betas who will power through a “boring” nonfiction book so they can become better beta readers. But I have no doubt these ladies are the cream of the crop. It’s a privilege to have worked with them on this series.
Sarah Hansen, Cover Sorceress. Somehow, she always knows exactly what I want in a book cover without my even telling her.
Big thanks to my editor, Jessica Anderegg of Red Adept Edits. Most editors will choose to pick on small style issues when they feel there’s not enough wrong with a manuscript. They fear that clients will be upset if there isn’t enough feedback when the manuscript is returned. It takes a special kind of editor to admit when the manuscript just didn’t need a lot of editing.
Huge thanks to my copyeditor, Marianne Tatom. I can’t believe how many typos this woman can find. I always turn in my manuscripts with confidence, thinking there won’t be more than 20 or 30 corrections. Then I get them back with over 200 corrections and my ego is quickly deflated. This woman is amazing, and the absolute best copyeditor to have when two of your characters are English majors.
To the readers who have messaged me and shared your excitement for the release of The Way We Rise, thank you for taking time out of your day to think of me and reach out to me. Your enthusiasm kept me going on days when the writing became more difficult than usual.
Also by Cassia Leo
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
The Way We Fall (The Story of Us #1)
The Way We Break (The Story of Us #2)
Forever Ours (Shattered Hearts #1)
Relentless (Shattered Hearts #2)
Pieces of You (Shattered Hearts #3)
Bring Me Home (Shattered Hearts #4)
Abandon (Shattered Hearts #5)
Chasing Abby (Shattered Hearts #6)
Black Box (stand-alone novel)
EROTIC ROMANCE
KNOX Series
LUKE Series
CHASE Series
UNMASKED Series
Edible: The Sex Tape (A Short Story)
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Parallel Spirits (Carrier Spirits #1)
For more information, please visit
cassialeo.com/books
Turn the page for a special preview of
Black Box by Cassia Leo
The moment you realize you’re going to die is nothing like I imagined it would be. I imagined a deep internal struggle coupled with a visceral, physical response – fight or flight. But there’s no fighting
this. I’m going to die.
It’s possible that everyone on this plane is going to die. I wonder if they feel this overwhelming sense of peace, or if the squeal of the plane engine has drowned out all their thoughts.
He grabs the oxygen mask as it drops from the compartment and he’s yelling something as he puts the elastic band over my head. He pulls his own mask over his head then he grabs my hand and looks me in the eye. There’s no panic in his eyes. Maybe he feels this same calm I’m feeling. Or maybe he just wants me to know that he loves me.
He loves me.
Or maybe the look in his eyes is his way of telling me he trusts that whatever happens to us in the next few seconds was meant to be.
Fate.
I used to think fate was for religious nuts and people who were too afraid to take their fate into their own hands. Now I know the truth.
Rina,
Please don’t look for me. You probably won’t find me. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, and please don’t blame yourselves. I’m just tired. Trying to cope … trying to forget … It’s not enough anymore. I just want to close my eyes and know that it will all be over soon. There’s nothing anyone could have done. You’ve all done more than enough. I hope you all find peace knowing I am no longer suffering. I love you guys. Tell Meaghan I leave her my black box.
Mikki
I used to write long suicide letters, but I don’t see the point in it anymore. If I’m going to leave this world a better place, I don’t want to leave behind a ten-page letter detailing all my emotional baggage. Besides, most of the people who know me, the ones close enough to read the letter, already know how screwed up I am.