So, I set my pride aside as school was winding down and began contacting some of the wealthiest people in my network. Asking for donations from wealthy people was humbling enough but the amount of no’s I received was soul crushing.
It was naïve of me to assume that everyone would jump on board once they heard it would benefit kids. Their faces showed no emotion when they rejected me and wished me the best of luck.
That is until I came across Edward Knight. Feeling dejected, I emailed him on a whim after receiving his contact information from a friend of a friend.
He’d been the only one willing to help me. But of course that help came with conditions.
Edward made it clear that he wanted me to “work for it,” essentially. If I could get through a three-month apprenticeship at Castle, he would fork up a quarter-million dollars for my project, Thriving Together, at the end of the summer.
And I can see right now that every penny will be hard-fought.
Cooling down from our brief meeting, I reach for my phone and view the picture serving as my lock screen.
It’s a classroom full of grinning kindergarteners. They’re beaming brighter than the paint splattered across some of their cheeks and clothes.
A smile touches my lips as I remember the day vividly. Each student had covered their hands with different colored paint before leaving their handprints on a huge puzzle piece. The project was to show our solidarity with students from all walks of life and all ability levels. While the artwork dried, the kids made a video stating why they believed all their friends deserved equal respect and treatment in the classroom.
It is a day I will remember forever. Such pure souls united for a cause near and dear to my heart.
The principal even displayed the artwork at the front of the school during Autism Awareness month. Nothing had been able to wipe away the proud smiles on my students’ faces when they passed it every morning.
My heart swells as the memory blankets me in the same warm fuzzies I felt at the time.
This is why I’m here.
The reminder is necessary and I’ll chant it like a mantra if it gets me through this summer with Edward Knight as my boss.
Still, I think a drink and some girl chat will do wonders to help me recover from the crazy whirlwind that today has been.
Swiping upward, I unlock my phone and text my best friend, Charli.
Crazy day. Up for happy hour and snacks at Banana Boat?
I know the mere mention of food will sway her in the right direction.
A few minutes later, I’m clicking through emails when my phone buzzes.
You know I’m in! What time? NOW?! Can’t wait to see your gorgeous face xo
Smiling, I send a reply and get back to work. Charli’s company will lift my spirits in a heartbeat and I can’t wait to get her take on my current dilemma.
With something to look forward to, the rest of my day passes quickly. When five o’clock rolls around, I can’t get out of there fast enough.
Time to unwind.
Five
LILAH
“Please tell me you’re going to call him!” Charli erupts as I finish the long-winded recap of my day.
The waterfront bar I chose is teeming with people despite it being a Monday night. The summer air is warm, pulling people who would usually stay home out for a night of fun. Loud music is blaring as people dance and chat.
Charli and I are seated in a far back corner, as secluded as we can possibly get in a place like this.
She can find no fault in what I told her about Andrew and looks positively thrilled at the prospect of me “climbing him like a tree” as she so eloquently put it.
I can’t even pretend like that’s not exactly what I want. My stomach is quivering as I recall the way his eyes pierced me with their focused intent. He didn’t have to say a word and still I melted like the ice at the bottom of my glass.
“Fuck your uptight new boss,” Charli declares loyally, her amber eyes defiant on my behalf. “I say you screw Andrew’s brains out and ask him for the donation instead. It’s not like he can’t afford it.”
Uncontrollable laughter bubbles out of me at her bold suggestion.
“Girl, I’m serious,” she deadpans, shoving her overgrown bangs from her face. “Let him eat your cookie at least.”
My shoulders are shaking by now, my right hand clasped over my chest. This is exactly why I called her up. In six years of friendship, Charli’s never failed to make me laugh by saying exactly what I’m thinking.
We met during our senior year of college and have been hanging tight ever since. She’s the only reason I’m in this town in the first place. After graduation, she landed me a job interview with the principal who hired her and the rest is history.
“Hell, one of us should have a fun summer break before we return to Harper’s View Elementary,” she says.
Sliding her an indolent smile from across the table, I wait for her to continue. Because I just know she’s not done. Charli is never done.
“You know I’m right.” She twists a lock of her curly ebony hair around her finger. “When school starts, neither one of us will have energy to do anything but drink cheap wine in our yoga pants after work.”
Ain’t that the truth?
As convincing as she is, I still know that I can’t go there. My “career” at Castle is too new and way too fragile to add in other complications at the moment. Especially those of the finger-licking sexual variety.
Besides, nothing will distract me from my goal. I’ll just have to call on my willpower to get me through these next three months.
Forget the fact that I haven’t been touched in two years. I’m desperately craving a release that isn’t self-induced with the help of my trusty vibrator, Ronaldo.
Yes, I named my vibrator. The two of us spend quite a lot of time together, so it was only right. Speaking of which, I’ve got a feeling I’ll need to swing by Walgreen’s and stock up on some batteries on my way home.
“Besides, what woman wouldn’t want to be able to say she screwed one of the richest guys on the east coast? The Knights are loaded.”
Charli is still prattling on and on about how easy my decision should be when an overly perky waitress appears at our table holding a plate with two cupcakes resting at the center.
“Enjoy, ladies,” she says, smiling brightly before scurrying off.
Confused, I raise an eyebrow and wait for my friend to explain.
Grabbing one of the cupcakes, Charli smiles deviously at me.
“We never got a chance to celebrate your new job!” she says excitedly.
Rolling my eyes, I look at her and I know my stare is asking her the question that I haven’t voiced.
Is she serious right now?
“It’s not a real job, Charli.” It’s just a stupid hoop I have to jump through to convince one rich man I’m worthy of his investment by convincing rich people to trust me with their wealth.
When I think of it like that, maybe it is a job…
Instantly, I have to check myself. I can’t think of this as a burden when it’s laying the groundwork for me to achieve my dreams. I’ve wanted this for years and it’s worth jumping through a million hoops if I can help at least one child.
“Well, I say it calls for a celebration. So cheers!” she exclaims, holding up her cupcake and waiting for me to return the gesture.
Fighting a smile, I lift the dessert and barely touch it against hers while I mutter the word, “Cheers.”
She starts carrying on about something again, but her words are suddenly falling on deaf ears. This cupcake is incredible, considering it was made in a bar that serves lukewarm beer and mediocre appetizers.
“I didn’t know they served cupcakes,” I remark, greedily licking the icing from the top. It’s sinfully sweet and I swear my eyes roll back while I savor the delectable treat.
Charli just laughs at me while I continue to devour the miniature confection.
“Why haven’t we been ordering this all along? Who fucking knew?” I say, peeling down the cupcake holder and sinking my teeth into the side of it.
Groaning, I close my eyes and chew slowly, not ready for the experience to end.
“Don’t look now,” Charli says, disrupting my trance, “but there’s a guy near the bar who can’t take his eyes off you.”
Before I have a chance to take a peek, she gasps and I feel the warmth of someone’s presence near my shoulder.
“Oh my,” Charli’s eyes widen and I’m at a loss until the figure comes to a stop beside our table.
Before anything else, forearms covered in thick muscles and tattoos fill my line of vision. Then my gaze trails upward until I’m staring Andrew Knight in the face.
What the hell is Andrew doing in a bar like this? He doesn’t look out of place by any means, but it still seems beneath him.
Twinkling eyes regard me as he gives me a mischievous smirk.
Jesus, the man is scrumptious.
And he’s looking better now than he did at the office today.
“Evening, Lilah. Introduce me to your friend,” he commands. His eyes never leave me as I stammer through the introductions.
Charli then excuses herself for the bathroom, deserting me to deal with this mountain of a man. And I’ll be damned, but I want to climb him, exploring every last inch.
“I never knew it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object until tonight, Lilah.”
“What are you talking about?” My voice has grown raspy and breathless.
Andrew stuffs one hand in his pocket as the other one rubs his bottom lip, drawing my attention to its fullness.
Damn him!
His scent is rich and woodsy. I immediately try to place it. Sandalwood?
Andrew glares at the plate in front of me which holds the remnants of my cupcake and I suddenly get it. I’d definitely put on one of hell of show. Not that I knew he was watching.
“Was it as good as you made it look?” He looks all too interested in the answer and a wave of triumph assails me.
He’s affected by this crazy intense attraction between us, too. Good.
Teasingly, I scoop up the rest of my dessert and extend it in his direction. Dark blue orbs flicker dangerously. Then he takes it from me and wraps his strong fingers around my wrist. His grip is strong but not forceful. Pulling my hand to his face, he whispers something lowly and despite the ruckus in the bar I can hear him loud and clear.
“Don’t tempt me, Lilah.”
Then his hot tongue is licking the icing from my fingertips as I stare, transfixed by what’s happening. I feel like a spectator watching myself experience it all in slow motion. He finishes with a kiss to the center of my palm before turning to leave.
***
Thank you for reading the first five chapters of Going Down. Read the rest of the story by going to Amazon.com to read the full book. Thank you!
Carnal
I don’t know what made me go to him that night.
Steel, the pierced drifter with the neck tattoo.
Mostly I wanted to hurt my reputation.
He could take my virginity and I’d go home, ruined.
I never thought he’d say no.
*** A steamy STAND-ALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot alpha. No cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***
Ride to Live, Live to Ride
(STEEL)
“Cocksucker, watch what you’re doing!” Whiskey yells, snapping his hand away from the Ferris wheel car and shaking it.
“Kill it, Whiskey,” I say. “I know what the fuck I’m doing better than anyone here. Pay attention, you might learn something.” I’ve spent ten years in the carnival, there’s nothing I don’t know better than everyone else here.
“If you know what you’re doing, why’d you push it when my finger was still in the slots?” Whiskey says, pushing his long hair away from his eyes.
“Shithead, even greenies know not to stick their finger in the slots. That is what a screwdriver’s for.” I grunt as I adjust the hundred-pound pig iron in my hands.
“What’s the matter, Steel? Whiskey high already?” Razor asks from the other side of the half-assembled Ferris wheel. He’s my closest buddy. He’s like a brother, but I don’t even know his real name. When you join the carnival, real names are left at the gate.
“Shit, seriously? I thought you were just hungover like the rest of us. This ride’s a bitch to put up. What the fuck are you doing spliffing up before we get it together?” I say, dropping the heavy piece of metal. I wipe my sweaty forehead, getting a whiff of the diesel and grease on my hands.
“Whiskey, you better not let Papa Smurf find out you’re working fucked up. He’ll slough your ass so fast you’ll be stuck in this town begging for bus fare,” Razor says, walking over to us. His short brown hair is soaked in sweat from busting his ass all morning.
“Like I’m supposed to believe you two fuckups never do?” Whiskey says, his bloodshot eyes moving between Razor and me.
“Not in the morning,” I say.
Razor laughs. “At least not on mornings we’re working.”
“You guys are full of shit,” Whiskey says.
“Go get Zombie, I’ve had enough of you today,” I say, shoving Whiskey’s shoulder and sending him scrambling.
“Fuck you, man.” Whiskey collects himself and saunters away. He’s so stoned, it’d be faster for me to walk to the bunkhouse and back several times.
“Come on, Razor, work with me. I want time to shower before it’s beer o’clock.”
Razor and I get on with our work. I’m surprised how fast Zombie appears, and after busting our balls for eight hours, we finish assembling the wheel.
“Safety check,” I say. As if.
I hook my hand around the outer frame and hop up, landing with my feet on the radial strut. Like a monkey, I make my way up the side of the wheel, stopping at various points to examine the lights.
When I’m near the top, I swing myself into the red car. Sitting, I pull off my sweaty Metallica T-shirt and use it to dry my face before letting it drop to the ground. It feels good to sit down for the first time since breakfast.
It’s great up here. I can see all over this shitty little town. I don’t even know what it’s called. I don’t care about nothing, and number one on the list of things I don’t care about is the name of the town we’re in.
The Golden Arches tower over the place. It’s not quite a one-light town, but close.
Most of the houses are average, full of average rubes with average lives. Lives full of nine to five, bills and debt collectors. Fuck that shit, I need my freedom.
My life is all right. I work hard, but it’s not nine-to-five bullshit. I have a place to lay my head, food in my belly and every day is a different adventure. That’s about all I need in life.
I turn my head in the other direction. East of the park we’re in, there’s a cluster of big houses. You can even see their perfect lives from here. Now that’s something I might consider leaving this life for.
It’s actually a pretty nice town. I’ve seen a lot worse.
“Steel! You think we’re going to stand around busting our asses while you have a chill-out session?” Razor yells.
“I’m doing a safety check,” I say, banging my fist against the metal car.
The car jolts and the wheel flies into action, hurling me and the car forwards. I lean back into the corner of the seat, rest my arm across the back and put my feet up on the edge. I know these shitheads, this wheel ain’t stopping any time soon.
“I hope you assholes are having as much fun as I am,” I shout as my car passes the lowest point of the wheel.
“Hold on,” Razor grins as he leans on the speed lever.
The wheel speeds up to near its maximum. Any townie would be puking right now, but I’m used to it.
For this town, the Ferris wheel is at the back corner of the lot. The carnival i
s set up so you enter and walk down the midway, then loop to the right for the rides. It’s pretty much a big circle. Little kiddie rides at the front, shakers at the back.
The rides and midway are taking shape. Most of the big stuff is up, it’s just the little things left for tomorrow. The ticket booths, the matting, and we have to check every single damn light bulb. That’s a pain-in-the-ass job.
It’s empty now, waiting for the crowds to fill it up. I always get a kick out of the happiness on the little kiddies’ faces, and I get a lot of joy out of the local girls who are happy to spread their legs for a carny.
There’s nothing better than a rough fucker like me corrupting the local pastor’s daughter.
“I’m enjoying my sunset ride, assholes!” I yell to no one in particular.
The ride comes to an abrupt stop, my car wildly swinging back and forth.
“Get your ass down here and work,” Razor yells.
“Papa Smurf said we’re finished at sundown tonight, woo-hoo!” I holler at them.
I’m at two o’clock on the wheel. The car’s still swinging, but I hop up and grab onto the wheel’s framework.
“About time,” Razor says and starts the wheel moving again, although not at full tilt this time.
I tighten my grip on the strut and get my feet ready to take the change in direction as we go over the apex of the wheel.
With my feet nestled in the joint of the frame, I hold on with one hand and lean way out. As we come to the bottom of the arc, I hop off. Without breaking my stride, I walk towards the carny cafeteria.
My stomach groans as I near the greasy goodness smell of burgers and fries. I normally heat up some ramen noodles in my bunkhouse cabin, but Wednesdays are rough work and I always treat myself to the mess tent for dinner. Somehow dollar store food isn’t enough when you’ve been chucking heavy pig irons around all day.
“Evening, Cess,” I say as I reach the line-up for grub.
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