Before (A Betwixt Novella #0.5) (Betwixt Series)
Page 7
And then there's Jasmine.
I don't think I'll ever be able to forget those people. As much as I sometimes I want to.
The weeks of rehab that followed made me wonder if God simply kept me breathing so he could punish me. And then there was the court case. The accident didn't get me out of that. Unfortunately, I was well enough to attend, and because I'd been found for the second time in a stolen vehicle, the judge was pretty pissed about it. I guess my injuries got me off with a warning, but the two misdemeanors were now permanently on record. I have a record. I hate that. If I ever slip up again I'll be facing a much harsher punishment. I don't even want to know what it might be.
Being saved came with a high price...but that's what I'd asked for and all I could hope is that one day, I'd figure out the reason why. I've been trying to live a good life ever since, inspired by the fact I lived. I feel like I owe it to everyone who loves me to do a better job. I guess I really owe it to myself. Only a fool would slap a second chance in the face.
But, I sometimes wonder if there's more to my salvation...like maybe God kept me alive for a specific reason.
I glance at the window and think about that stunning beauty with the lost expression in her eyes. I will never forget that feeling of desperation. It's like wandering in a desert without a compass. All you see is endless days of the same thing, and you have no idea how you're ever going to get out of it.
Man, I want to help her. I want to show her there's another way.
Picking up my pencil, I tap it over my text books. I know I should be studying. Mom's homeschool routine leaves little room for movement. Some days it's suffocation city, but I put up with it. If I don't stay on top of my studies, I'll never get into a decent college. I want options. I want my future to be filled with positive options.
I start drawing swirls on the bottom corner of my notepad. The swirl turns into an N and before I know it, I've written the name Nicole. I scribble it out with a huff. Who the hell am I kidding? Like she would ever give a guy like me a second look.
I pause.
But, it's not about that.
I mean sure, she is gorgeous and the idea of being with someone like her would be awesome, but that's not the only reason I can't get her out of my brain.
It's that look in her eyes. I want to take it away.
"And how the hell are you going to do that, Dale?" I scoff. "You spend most of your life locked in this house, you loser."
Dropping the pencil, I flick it with my fingers and watch it roll to the edge of the pad and tumble off the end. It finally comes to a stop against a pile of fantasy novels I'm working my way through. I'm tempted to grab one and bury myself in a good story. The perfect escape from reality, but then Nicole scuttles through my brain again.
God gave me a second chance at life. I promised myself I wouldn't waste it and hiding in my room reading was hardly living life to the fullest.
I should be dead, but I'm not.
God kept me breathing for a reason, and I can't help wondering if Nicole is it.
Reaching for the pencil, I write her name in bold letters across the notepad.
"How's it coming, sweetie?" Mom's voice makes me jump a mile. She chuckles as she walks through the door, Jester, my black Labrador, at her heels. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I flip my pad over and drop my pencil.
Mom reaches me, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a rub. "You have that thoughtful look on your face. What's up?"
I distract myself with Jester for a moment. He's muscled his way past Mom and is resting his head on my knee expecting some attention. His black tail thumps happily on the ground as I scratch behind his ear. Mom doesn't usually let him up here during study time and I know he'll be dragged out when she leaves. I rub his sleek coat with a smile. His tongue lolls to the side as he drops to his back, exposing his belly for me to scratch. I oblige with a grin then pat his stomach before sitting up straight.
I clear my throat and pull my T-shirt straight. "Mom." I lick my lips. "I think it's time for me to head back to school."
Her eyebrows jump high. "What's brought this on?"
I shrug and pick at the growing hole on the knee of my jeans. "I don't know. I just feel like it's time to stop hiding."
Mom's silence makes me glance up.
She looks nervous, nibbling the edge of her bottom lip. "I thought we agreed that you'd stay home until college."
"I've got to face the world at some point. I think I'd rather do it when I have you guys around to support me." I know that's not my primary reason for making this decision, but it's still a good one.
Mom doesn't look appeased. "We should talk to your dad first."
I lean forward and rub her tense forearm. "Of course we will, but you guys can't sway me. I've made up my mind."
She knows that's true and has a hard time hiding her disappointment.
"It's okay, Mom. I can handle this."
"But..." she sighs. "Dale, what if..."
"I promised you and Dad I'd never go down that path again, and I won't. You can trust me now."
She nods, obviously fighting off tears.
I swallow, trying to think of something to make her feel better.
With a wry chuckle, I shake my head. "You really don't have to worry. I doubt anyone's gonna want to hang with the scar faced freak anyway."
Her frown is sharp. "Don't you say that about my son! He's gorgeous."
"To you maybe," I mumble, suddenly wondering if my decision to throw myself into a high school environment is the right one. They'll have a field day with me. Was I strong enough to take it? Nicole pops into my brain, and I know I have no choice. "I've gotta do this, Mom. Please help me."
I glance up to see her eyes have swamped with tears. She leans towards me with a shaky smile, her hand resting over the scar on my cheek. "You're a brave soul, Dale Finnigan, and you are becoming the most amazing man. I'm so proud of you."
I grin. "Thanks, Mom."
She kisses me on the forehead. "I'll call the office at Big Bear High to ask for details, but no final decisions will be made until after we talk to Dad," she says between sniffs.
I have to nod, she deserves at least that.
"Come on, Jester." She clicks her fingers. "You can see Dale at lunchtime."
My dog whimpers, reluctant to leave.
"Jester." Mom's voice is stern. He knows that tone and I can almost hear him sighing as he gets to his feet and pads out of the room.
I watch them leave, feeling a mixture of elation and fear. My life is about to get really hard.
Swiveling around in my chair, I flip my notepad back over and gaze at Nicole's name. Yeah, it was going to freaking suck...but it'd be worth it.
I run my pencil over the N. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to do everything in my power to save this girl.
#####
Acknowledgements
No matter how big or small a project is, it takes many awesome people to pull it together...and they all deserved to be acknowledged for their time and brilliance.
Allison Potter - my editor, publicist and PA. I can't tell you how stoked I am to have you working with me. Thanks for your positive energy, your meticulous work and of course, your OCD ;-)
Scott & Ruth - once again, thanks for your wealth of medical knowledge. Your expertise and time is so appreciated.
Eden Crane - thank you for the stunning cover. You captured exactly what I wanted and I couldn't be more pleased.
Inklings - thank you for the critiques girls. I always love getting your feedback. You make my work better with your excellent suggestions and you make my life better by just being awesome :-)
Indie Inked - thank you to the girls who critiqued for me, and thank you to the rest of you as well. Becoming part of this awesome group has amplified what is already a really cool job.
Karen, Suzy & Taylor - I've so enjoyed getting to know you lovely ladies over the past year. It's be
en a privilege chatting to you about your work and getting to read some of it. Thanks for your help with proofing Before.
Alice - thank you so much for being one of my most active Street Team members. I feel like you deserve a special mention because you're always first on the scene to read my work. I love you for that xx
My precious family - as always, thanks for your constant support, belief and pride. I love you all so much.
My saviour - thanks. You know why :-)
About Melissa Pearl
Melissa Pearl is a kiwi at heart, but currently lives in Suzhou, China with her husband and two sons. She trained as an elementary school teacher, but has always had a passion for writing and finally completed her first manuscript in 2003. She has been writing ever since and the more she learns, the more she loves it. Keep an eye out for future projects.
Connect With Melissa Pearl
You can contact Melissa Pearl online:
Website: http://melissapearlauthor.com
Blogs:
http://melissapearl.blogspot.com
http://yalicious.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/melissapearlauthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelissaPearlG
A Zealous Design Author: http://www.zealousdesign.co.nz
You can also subscribe to Melissa Pearl's Book Updates Newsletter. You will be the first to know about any book news, new releases and giveaways.dpg
Follow this link to sign up.
Other Books By Melissa Pearl
The Elements Trilogy
Unknown
Unseen
Unleashed
The Time Spirit Trilogy
Golden Blood
Black Blood
Pure Blood
The Mica & Lexy Series
Forbidden Territory
Forbidden Waters (due for release: 2014)
Betwixt Series
Betwixt
Beyond (due for release: October 2013)
Find out more on Melissa Pearl's website: http://www.melissapearlauthor.com
Betwixt Excerpt
Beautiful, wild-child, Nicole Tepper, is hit by a car and left for dead. But when she wakes the next morning, Nicole finds herself in bed without a scratch. Perhaps she was more intoxicated than usual, as her mother is giving her the silent treatment and her friends are ignoring her as well.
Things take a turn for the weird when Nicole soon discovers she is actually hovering between life and death. Her body is lying in the forest while her spirit is searching for anyone who can hear her. Unfortunately the only person who can is Dale Finnigan, the guy she publicly humiliated with a sharp-tongued insult that has left him branded.
Desperate, Nicole has no choice but to haunt Dale and convince the freaked-out senior to help her. Will he find her body before it's too late? Or will the guy who tried to kill her with his car, beat him there and finish her off before anyone finds out?
Chapter One
My boots make a sharp tapping sound as I clomp my way home. The loose gravel at the edge of the road jumps away from my anger, skirting ahead of me then tumbling down the steep embankment.
I can't believe I'm in this situation. How could my boyfriend be such a jerk? I cross my arms and shiver, trying to block the last thirty minutes from my mind. What will people think? I blink away tears as I imagine the gossip tree shaking with mirth. How am I going to face everyone tomorrow?
I should have just given in and done what he wanted me to. I have before.
I look up at the night sky. It is clear and cold, the stars are brilliant with no streetlights to hinder their glow. I'm guessing it's around midnight. I can't see my watch face in this dim light. I can barely see two steps in front of me.
A cool wind whistles through my clothing and I wish, yet again, that I hadn't chosen to wear a sleeveless shirt with a plunging V-neck that left nothing to the imagination. Maybe Trent was right. I had dressed for it.
I look down at my knee-high boots and skinny jeans so tight they'd have to be peeled off. I suddenly feel like a hooker. My lower lip wobbles. I can feel the melt down setting in. I struggle to hold it together.
I'm stuck in the middle of who knows where. I have no idea how long it's going to take me to walk home... I don't even know which direction home is.
Trent said it would be romantic, the best vista point he'd ever found, but it wasn't a scenic overlook. It was just a clearing of darkness where mischief could never be discovered.
Bile swirls in my stomach.
The metal dog tags clink against my sternum. I can feel them swinging back and forth in time with my march. I grab them through my clothing and squeeze. I'm tempted to take them off and hurl them into the trees beside me, but I can't. I blame them though... well not them exactly, but the person who gave them to me.
Why had I put them on? They had been hidden in my jewelry box for months. My fingers had brushed over them as I was searching for my hoop earrings and I'd been compelled to slip them over my head and stuff them beneath my shirt. If I hadn't put them on, I wouldn't have thought of him and if he hadn’t been swimming around in the back of my brain, I wouldn't be in this situation.
Dale Finnigan.
Dale Finnigan and his "you should know better look" had a lot to answer for tonight. I hitch my bag higher onto my shoulder. My march is getting faster and the need to be out of here burns. I start the long descent down the winding road, my mind playing tricks with me.
Maybe you should call, Dale.
I grimace.
You know he'd come and collect you.
"No he wouldn't," I say to the air. "He hates me."
I frown.
Scarface.
The word sends a shudder through my system and I slam the door on my brain. It can just shut up right now.
I won't be calling Dale.
I reach into my bag and fish around for my phone. I stop in my tracks to have a better look, but with no light, the endeavor is hopeless. It looks like I won't be calling anyone. I grit my teeth and keep walking, picking up my pace as I round the corner. The wind whistles through my clothing again and I shiver. I should stop and put my jacket on, but I don't want to. If I just keep walking I won't have to stop and really analyze the crap I'm in.
My brain doesn't play fair and I analyze it anyway.
It's Tuesday night. Most normal sixteen year olds would be home in their beds having done their homework, watched a little TV, and said goodnight to their parents, but not me, right? I always have to do things differently.
I can feel my mouth pinching into a tight line as the simplicity and bliss of that kind of life feels a million miles away.
I shake my head.
"What am I talking about? My life rocks." I say the last word way too loud as I continue to convince myself. "I have just been at study group."
I laugh. Why did we even call it that? We never studied. It was basically Tuesday night party time. Matt's parents were out of town, so we had blasted the music and stood down by the lake goofing around and laughing until our bellies ached.
I grin as I picture the scene in my head - friends surrounding me, Trent's arm around my shoulders making me feel safe.
I wish his arms were around me now.
I cringe.
The second part of the night had not been so great.
I wrap my arms around myself and squeeze, trying to eradicate the memories, the look of annoyance scouring his perfect features, the harsh words of disgust and the sound of gravel spray as he drove away from me.
Stupid jerk!
Who needs him?
I ignore the "you do" in the back of my mind and sniff. Lifting my head, I pick up my pace again as I enter a dark patch of road. The trees loom overhead and I try really hard not to think of ghosts and demons as my breath quickens.
The distant sound of an engine distracts me. The faint glow of headlights appear behind me and I smile. Trent feels guilty. Yes! Man, was I going to give him hell for this.
I glance behind me and disappointment sears my insides. The headlights are sitting way too low on the car to be Trent's. He drives a Jeep Cherokee, this car looks more like a sedan? Or maybe a sports car?
I toy with the idea of sticking out my thumb as it draws near. I'm sure it would be safe enough. I'd just ask for a lift to Big Bear Village then walk from there. No big deal. Maybe I could even ask for a ride to L.A.. The idea of running away skirts through my brain as I squeeze my thumb inside my fist.
It fights to break free, but I won't let it. I even start filling my mind with every hitch hiking horror story I can think of. That works like a charm and my thumb relaxes into submission.
The car is cruising down the hill towards me when a sudden fear rips up my spine. I can see it swerving out of the corner of my eye and turn to watch its erratic movements. I move to the very edge of the road, my boots pushing piles of dirt and stone off the edge of the embankment. My legs hit the guardrail. With eyes the size of dinner plates I watch the car swerve. Hasn't it seen me? Doesn't it know I'm vulnerable on the side of the road here?
I turn to make an escape, but it's too late.
The headlights illuminate my body for a second, before the car violently swerves away, but not before clipping me. Pain sears through my body and I scream as I'm thrown over the guardrail.
It's like being in a tumble drier as I roll down the hill, scratching myself on pinecones and nature's debris. My descent comes to an abrupt end as I crash into a tree trunk. A loud crack rings like a gun shot inside my head, rattling my brain. I roll away from the tree with a groan and reach for my temple then scream as pain radiates up my arm. My stomach jerks and I feel its contents shifting north. I cover my mouth, but it's pointless.
Out of breath, I try to shift away from my puke, but moving hurts too much. I lay back on the bumpy earth and look up at the sky. The stars are fuzzy and shifting wildly. I blink to bring them into focus, but that just makes it worse. I feel as though the world is falling on top of me. As the stars and treetops come crashing down I hear a young girl scream my name.