Live Me ~ a Pieces of Broken novel by Celeste Grande
Copyright © 2015 by Celeste Grande
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in the book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Cover Design by:
Najla Quamber of Najla Quamber Designs
Cover Photographer:
Lorie Rebecca of Lorie Rebecca Photography
Cover Models:
Kristianna DeBlasio and Harlee Tanner Bartlett
Interior Design and Formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
To my husband, Fred who will stand by my side no matter what for the rest of my life, my baby boy, Christian who has made me realize a love I never knew possible, and (by the time you’re reading this) my new baby girl, Cienna who I have yet to meet, but can feel rolling through my belly and my soul already. I live you guys. A world where there’s no you means there’s no me.
“To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.”
~ Audrey Hepburn
LIVE ME
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Acknowledgments
Playlist
About the Author
TWO YEARS EARLIER
He’s here.
My body stilled. Erratic breaths sputtered through my lips as my eyes darted around for a sign someone was home.
We were alone.
Very alone.
Lounging against the kitchen counter, one foot resting in front of the other, his hands were propped behind him, curling around the edges. With just his eyes, he looked up at me, calm and relaxed as though he was waiting. The corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin and he raised a menacing eyebrow. “Hey there, beautiful. I was hoping to catch you here.”
My subconscious spit at his casual tone. That word, beautiful, scampered like a thousand tiny bug legs along my skin. Venom and bile pooled in my mouth as I tried to push past my unresponsive senses. “W-Where’s Abby?”
Cool and assured, the corner of his lip quirked and I fought to contain the sourness it created in my belly. He pushed off the counter and prowled toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. “I wanted her to relax a little so I sent her for an afternoon at the spa. I told her I’d stay here, get some work done and see her when she got back from her day of pampering. But we both know that was just an excuse.”
My legs were numb, forgetting how to work. I wanted to back up. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream . . .
But no one would hear me.
At the very least, I wanted to say no, but every fiber of my being was failing me. I was at his mercy.
And he knew it.
“I’ve missed you, beautiful. I’ve been waiting patiently for you to walk through that door. My mouth is watering already. I can actually taste you.” Cocking his head to the side, he licked his lips to accentuate his point and my stomach rolled. “Would you like to taste me?”
Please, not again. “No . . .” His chest met mine, cutting off my choked whisper with a sharp intake of breath.
Reaching up, he slid his thumb into my mouth, his eyes concentrating on my lips. A lone tear trailed down my cheek as I braced for the inevitable.
Numbness, please give me numbness.
His body shivered and that sideways grin was back as he pulled his thumb out of my mouth, lowered his head, and began to kiss me.
Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb . . .
Innocence stolen.
A life lost.
Trust broken.
Pieces of me scattered about like a dusting of shattered glass.
Dismembered.
Crumbled.
A constant beat down. A never-ending cycle of torture. An ache in your brain reminding you of poor decisions. How one thing—one tiny little thing can change the course of your life.
TAKE. Your. Life.
Own it.
Dismantle it.
Wreck it beyond recognition.
Stolen.
My life was stolen.
Maimed.
Destroyed.
Distorted to the point it was unrecognizable.
I stumbled about like an incoherent mess through the fog, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.
Truth? More torture? Absolution?
It was anyone’s guess. Most of all mine.
PRESENT DAY
We’re almost there.
It was nearing dusk, and the heat from the day was being sucked out by a comfortable, cooler breeze. Excitement buzzed through the air and with each step forward, the sounds emanating from an overbearing bass intensified. I wished I could enjoy it the way everyone else seemed to be, the way a typical college-goer would. Instead, I was envious of my friends, looking on at them with longing as they laughed and joked together. They kept a fast pace, anxious to get to the party. None of them noticed I’d been trailing behind them for the last five minutes.
Jostled to the side, I flinched as I grabbed my shoulder. “Hey!”
A guy dressed in only a pair of cargo shorts, his toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat, looked back at me. In a backward jog, he bounced from foot to foot, balancing a sloshing red cup. “Sorry.” He tossed me a chaste wink before turning to scurry to the other edge of the lawn.
I scowled, trying to think of something witty to throw at him, but he was gone before one came. Why the hell am I here? I can’t do this.
Hand still clutching the sore spot, I was about to turn around and go home when Jessie spun to face me, her blonde ringlets whirling in a blur. She slapped her thighs in frustration and jogged back to where I stood. “Come on, Eva!”
“I’m not going.” I frowned, still babying my arm.
Jace and Sandra approached, flanking a dissatisfied Jessie, who planted her hands on her curvy hips. “Why are you being so difficult? It’ll be fun. Think of all the hot guys who’ll be there.”
I thumbed toward the jerk’s retreating figure. “You mean the immature boys like the one who just ran me over?”
Jessie waved her hand. “Po-tay-toe Po-tah-toe. Just—let’s go.”
I sighed. “It’s a frat party, initiation thingy. Remind me again how this concerns me?”
“Because it’s fun! F-U-N. Fun! Tell her, guys,” she prompted.
I’d forced him to enroll at Columbia with me because I couldn’t do this without him. He was far from the studious type, so I’d pretty much taken his placement test for him, swapping papers back and forth every time the proctor looked away. I’d even written his essay. Now I just had to hope he could keep up with the classes my scores had gotten him into. He was supposed to be my ace in the hole in situations such as these, but right now he was failing miserably.
“Jace, a little help here.” Impatience coated my voice.
He placed a hand on his chest, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m personally hoping to see some men forced to wear leotards, honey. I’m with Jessie on this one.”
I gritted my teeth. I’m going to kill you. I knew he could read my mind, but he was choosing that moment to play dumb. “I hate you guys.”
“Shut your face,” Jace threw back. “You need to get the full freshman experience. You’ll thank me later.” He nearly yanked my arm out of its socket as he pulled, sending my legs flailing behind me as he dragged me toward the booming crowd.
Stopping just before the chaos, he gave my hand a sharp squeeze, acknowledging for the first time how hard this would be for me. I raised the corner of my mouth in a half smile, then filled my lungs with an exorbitant amount of air to fortify the strength I’d need to get through this.
Truth was, one would never truly know what went on in the mind of Evangelina Ricci. On the outside, I had everything put together, perfectly gift wrapped with a tight little red bow. While inside, I was shattered shards of glass. But, if you lined those pieces up just right, when the light hit them, you had a beautiful prism shining a magnificent rainbow for the world to see, love, and appreciate.
That was me. The perfect optical illusion. A master of disguise.
“You ready, baby girl?” Jace asked.
“As ready as I’m gonna be. And don’t think I’m not chewing your ass out later for this.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye.
He squeezed my finger between his. “Don’t worry, I won’t be far. If I think it’s too much for you, we’re out of here.”
I nodded, trusting him enough to know he had my best interests at heart. “How do I look?” I flashed a toothy, well-rehearsed smile, batting my green, feline-shaped eyes.
He rolled his eyes. “You know you’re heart stopping. Now let’s go.” He smacked my ass and, like the crack of gunfire at a race, left me in his dust as he jogged into the festivities.
I stood there for a moment, letting my protective gates come crashing down to a locked position as I secured one of my many faces in place.
The imaginary clapperboard snapped.
Let’s do this.
I caught up with Jessie and Sandra, determined to show them a different Eva. “All right, ladies. You wanted me here, now try and keep up.” I tugged one of Sandra’s ginger curls in a backward jog.
The girls looped their arms with mine.
“Thank God you’re back. I thought we’d lost you for a second there. Where’d you go?” Jessie asked, scooping up the front chunk of her hair and tossing it to the other side.
Uh oh. I was slipping. Time for a Band-Aid. “I’m just tired, and my boyfriend doesn’t like me going to these things. Sorry I was being a party pooper,” I lied.
“Tell us again why we haven’t met this boyfriend?” Sandra inquired.
Because he doesn’t exist. I expelled a dramatic huff. “I told you, he goes away to school. Maybe one weekend he’ll come here, but I usually go there to see him.”
I’d been using that excuse for so long I was sick of it, but it served its purpose. Short weekend trips by myself always helped keep up the façade, strengthening my resolve to be alone and do everything on my own. I was used to solitude, even though I was also used to being crowded—a walking contradiction.
Looking around, I tried to redirect their attention. “Okay, ladies, enough talk. Scope out the keg. I hope you brought your big girl panties. You’re gonna need ’em.” My mouth slid into a sly grin.
Out of necessity, I’d learned a long time ago how to divert people’s attention. It was crucial when they pried a little too deep. The bat of an eyelash and a simple look seemed to enamor them, and I needed it that way. I had it down to a science. I only wished I could see myself through the same eyes they did. I was one big mirage—a house of mirrors. I could keep you running in circles, seeing a million different faces of myself, but none of them were the real, flesh and blood, true-to-life me. They were all different reflections of the pretty face I was forced to look at every day, never revealing the ugliness that lay beneath it.
Dirt billowed up in dusty clouds as we approached the rowdy crowd. Fun times. I waved my hands in front of my face to disperse the dirty smoke, taking an inventory of my surroundings. Sweaty guys showing off six-packs they had—or didn’t have. Cackling girls trying to one-up each other to get noticed. People participating in games in random quadrants of the park while others huddled around a cluster of kegs nestled beside a set of trees.
Bullseye!
I draped my hair over one shoulder and picked at the dirty-blonde ends, zeroing in on the mind-numbing liquid. Beside the keg, a small group of girls was circled around one guy. They stared starry-eyed, taking turns hanging from his sculpted bicep and vying for his attention. I rolled my eyes. They could have him. I just needed a drink to take the edge off and help me blend. I was familiar with guys like him—gorgeous, suave, and toting that cocky, I-can-have-any-girl-I-want attitude.
Normal, I reminded myself. This is normal. Act fucking normal!
His eyes lifted from the girls and settled on me as he tried to hold their conversation. I recognized that I’m-coming-to-get-you look. It turned my palms slimy. Taking a deep breath, I flipped an internal switch, turning off my inhibitions.
His mint-green eyes flicked to my fingers as I grabbed the nozzle at the top of the silver cylinder. I pumped the top as fast as I could, trying to pour my drink and get out of there.
I was too slow.
Not more than two-seconds later, cocky Mr. Perfect stepped away from the girls as one of them was mid-sentence, and ambled to my side. His hand was just about to cover mine—to do the honors of pouring—when I slipped in my haste, sending the liquid down the outside of the cup and over my jittery fingers. I shook off my hand, expelling an exasperated sigh.
“Didn’t mean to make you nervous.” He flashed a dazzling smile that probably got him laid most nights a week.
I didn’t want to seem like a freak, and the last thing I wanted was to give away my weakness, so I did the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t make me nervous, but now you owe me one.” I wrapped my fingers around his red solo cup, pulling it from his grasp. I curled my lips and took a sip.
His tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip before he bit down, his pupils dilating a fraction. It sent a warm flutter to my already nervous belly, and I jutted my eyes away, feeling self-conscious. The looks on our bystanders’ faces were enough to make my heart race. I didn’t want to be on this guy’s radar, but now it looked like I’d just placed myself in the dead center of it.
“I would’ve poured you your own.” My gaze flickered back to his widened stare.
”Maybe you should’ve let me pour my own.” I bit back through an obviously phony smile.
His eyes danced with excitement. “An independent girl. I like that. What’s your name, Little Miss Forward?”
I ignored the prickles that crawled up my spine and looked at him over the rim of the cup. “Evangelina.” God, get me out of here.
He leaned on a tree trunk and crossed one leg over the other, getting comfortable. “I’m Eric. Do you mak
e a habit of taking what doesn’t belong to you, Evangelina?”
I shrugged nonchalantly as if I wasn’t trembling inside. “I was thirsty. You had a drink. Opportunity knocked.”
Eric’s smile broadened, a gleam radiating as he studied me. “You’re new,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I am.” I scanned the crowd for my friends. I had to bail, and quick. My eyes found Eric’s one last time.
A confident smile spread across his handsome, yet boyish face. “Well, then you’re in luck. I’m an old dog here. It would be my honor to show you the ropes.” He straightened and slipped a heavy arm around my shoulders in an I’ll-be-in-your-pants-by-sundown gesture.
Last straw.
I jerked forward, completing a combination duck-sidestep, and separated myself from him. Tipping my head back, I emptied the remnants of the cup down my throat. “Thanks for the drink, Eric, but you’re really not my type. Maybe I’ll see ya around.”
I placed the barren plastic back into his limp hand, and I knew, by the rosy hue that tainted his cheeks, I’d bruised his ego. I walked off, leaving him scratching his head as his waiting fan club looped their arms through each of his.
Still moving at a clipped pace, I approached the traitorous, open-mouthed duo who looked at me as though they were in the presence of royalty. “I thought you guys were right behind me.” I cranked my head from left to right, loosening my neck and rolling my shoulders, trying to pull myself from the bad place my mind was headed. I stopped when they didn’t respond. “What?”
“You realize that was Eric Matthews, right?” Jessie’s eyes were wide.
“Does that mean something?” I pulled my hair over my shoulder and peeked back at him.
The girls looked back and forth at each other. Sandra clarified. “You just left him speechless. That doesn’t happen.”
“You know him?” I asked.
“Um, everyone knows him. Do you live under a rock?” Jessie’s voice squeaked.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, shaking out my hands at my sides, attempting to still them before someone noticed. “I just rattled him a little bit. It’s no big deal.”
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