Every Moment with You_Redeeming Love

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Every Moment with You_Redeeming Love Page 1

by J. E. Parker




  Table of Contents

  Part I

  Prologue

  Part II

  Part III

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Grandmama

  Pop

  About the Author

  Upcoming Books

  Acknowledgments

  Every Moment with You

  A Redeeming Love Novel (Book One)

  J.E. Parker

  Edited by Susan Kiley

  Cover Photography by Michael Stokes

  Cover Model Colin Wayne

  Cover Design by Letitia Hasser

  Copyright © 2017 by J.E. Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by the copyright law.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  My Mom.

  Queen of the Crusty Bagel Brigade.

  Contents

  Part I

  Prologue

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Part II

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Grandmama

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Pop

  Maddie

  Part III

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  Hendrix

  Hendrix

  Maddie

  About the Author

  1. Upcoming Books

  Acknowledgments

  Part I

  “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

  —Emily Bronte

  Prologue

  Hendrix

  The front door slammed shut, and Pop’s heavy footsteps sounded through the house.

  “Hendrixxx! Where you at?”

  Swallowing a mouthful of half-chewed Lucky Charms, I called back, “In the kitchen.”

  More footsteps and then he appeared. Wrinkled grey shirt, shaggy black hair, and unshaven face. “You see the moving truck parked next door?”

  “Nah. I haven’t been outside yet.” I took another bite of the soggy cereal and watched Pop as he walked to the other side of the kitchen and leaned against the countertop. “You know who’s moving in?”

  Pop grumbled something under his breath before nodding once. “The Davis family.” Picking up the empty coffee pot, he scowled over his shoulder at me. “You didn’t make any coffee?”

  Fear gripped my heart. “No.” I dropped my spoon and pushed my chair away from the rickety table. “I didn’t know what time you’d be home.”

  Pop shook his head. “Stupid fucking kid.” Flipping open the lid on the coffee maker, he dumped in one scoop of crushed grounds. “Every morning, before you eat breakfast, you need to make my coffee. You understand?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, Pop, I understand.”

  He didn’t reply as he walked over to the window above the sink and peered out. “Look at this asshole,” he said, pointing next door, “standing on his front porch, looking around the neighborhood like he owns the entire street.”

  I stood and took my bowl to the sink. Dumping the uneaten cereal and milk down the drain, I turned on the faucet and flipped on the garbage disposal. Pop flinched and covered his ears. “Damn, boy! You can’t be making that much noise this early in the morning.” Panicked, I turned off the switch. How could I be so stupid? Pop was still hung over. He wouldn’t be able to handle much noise for another hour or two. “That noise kills me!”

  “Sorry, Pop.”

  “Yeah,” he said, running a hand down the side of his face.

  Still glaring out the window, he mumbled something I couldn’t understand under his breath.

  Curious, I followed his line of sight. “Who’s that guy?” I asked, pointing at the happy looking, blond-haired man next door. I’d never seen him before.

  “Keith Davis. Asshole just transferred from one of the stations over in Garrison. He’s Station 41’s new captain,” Pop hissed, a large vein bulging on the side of his forehead.

  I stood on my tiptoes and leaned closer to the window. Squinting my eyes, I looked to see if anyone else was outside. Didn’t see anyone though. “He got any kids?”

  Reaching into the cabinet, Pop pulled down a liquor bottle and twisted off the cap. He poured the brown liquid into a clean coffee mug before adding freshly brewed coffee.

  Disgusting.

  “Got one.” He took a sip. “About your age, I think.”

  I smiled. Heck yeah! “You know his name?”

  Pop shook his head. “No.” He looked down at me. “Why don’t you go over there and find out?”

  I didn’t need him telling me twice. Turning on my heel, I ran out of the kitchen and into the foyer. When I was three feet away from the front door, Pop hollered my name. “Hendrix!”

  I skidded to a stop. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t do anything to embarrass me. You do, and I’ll beat you black and blue. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  Shaking my head, I took off running again. Bolting out the front door, I jumped across the narrow front porch and bounded down the small steps. Crossing the forty-foot patch of grass that separated my house from the one next door, I kept moving until both of my feet landed on the neighbor’s concrete driveway.

  Then I stopped.

  The blond man from before was the first person to see me. He waved before smiling in my direction. “Hey, kid,” he said, not giving me a chance to address him first.

  I reached up and squeezed the brim of my ball cap between my fingers. “Hey, Mister.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder and pointed towards my house. “I live in the blue house next door.”

  The man nodded once and looked me over. “You’re James Cole’s kid?”

  Unfortunately. “Yeah, sir, James is my pop.”

  His expression darkened at my answer. Huh. “What’s your name?”

  “Hendrix,” I said, shifting my weight between my two feet. I never could stand still. “Hendrix Cole.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hendrix. I’m Keith Davis.”

  “Good to meet you too. Pop said you were the new fire captain.” And he didn’t sound happy about it either, I thought.

  “I am. Just transferred from Station 32 in Garrison.”

  “That’s cool.” I looked around, feeling out of place and not knowing what else to say. I wasn’t good at talking to people. “Uh, my pop said you had a kid. One about my age.”

  Keith looked towards his new house before bringing his eyes back to me. “How old are you?”

  “Eight.”

  He swatted at a bumblebee that flew around his head. “Y’all are close in age then
. My girl’s seven. She’ll be eight next May.”

  I straightened my spine. “Yeah?” He nodded once. “Good because there aren’t a lot of kids in this neighborhood. It’s mostly old people…” Wait. His girl? He has a daughter and not a son? Ah, heck! “She’s a girl?” I blurted out, spit flying from my mouth.

  Arms hanging at his sides, Keith smirked. “Yeah, Maddie is definitely a girl.”

  Dang it, man! Just when I thought— “Oh.” I hung my head forward. “I thought she was a boy.” Blowing out a breath, I shoved my hands into my front pockets. “That’s the whole reason I came over here. I thought we could be friends or something.”

  Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t be friends with a girl?” he asked, a confused look on his face.

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a girl.” Not unless… “Does she happen to play basketball or like riding dirt bikes?”

  Keith tossed his head back and laughed. “Maddie? On a dirt bike? Not in this lifetime.”

  “Why the heck not?”

  Still laughing, he rubbed both of his eyes with the back of his hands. “Kid, Maddie isn’t going to do anything that would risk getting one of her dresses dirty.”

  Ohhhhhhh! So, she was one of those girls.

  Dang it!

  Frustrated, I blew out a breath and pulled my hands out of my pockets. “Alright, well, I guess I should be getting back home then.” I waved once. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Davis.”

  Not waiting for a response, I turned and walked down the driveway.

  Until…

  “Daddy!” a girl’s high-pitched voice called out.

  Immediately, I stopped moving.

  “Who’s that boy?” There was something about her voice that reminded me of a cartoon character. I’d never heard anything like it before in real life, and I didn’t know why, but I wanted to hear more.

  “He lives next door,” Keith answered.

  “What’s his name?” She spoke so quickly I barely understood her.

  “Hendrix Cole.”

  I could see her shadow flitting across the ground as she came closer.

  “Hi, Hendrix,” she said from what sounded like two or three feet away. “Well? Aren’t ya gonna turn around and say hi to me?”

  She giggled, and my pulse kicked into overdrive. Why I didn’t know.

  More than curious, I turned around.

  The world around me slowed as I came face to face with her for the first time.

  Shiny brown hair. Huge green eyes. Freckles. Cotton candy stained lips.

  “Hi, Hendrix.” Hands twisting in the skirt of her glittery pink dress, she tilted her head to the side and smiled. “My name is Maddie. I’m your new neighbor.”

  It was the moment that changed everything.

  Forever.

  Hendrix

  Six Years Later

  Pop had been drinking again.

  Jack and Coke.

  “Come here, boy,” he sneered as he stood in the foyer, his hate-filled gaze locked directly on me. “Seems you and I have something to talk about.”

  I didn’t move or speak.

  The moment he’d stumbled through the door, the smell of stale cigarette smoke surrounding him, I’d known that tonight wouldn’t end well for me. Pop disliked me most of the time, but when he’d been drinking, he hated me.

  Add in the fact that I’d gotten in trouble at school two days before and it was a recipe for a beating—one that would only leave me bruised if I was lucky. Bloody if I wasn’t.

  Knowing I needed to leave, I looked from the front to the back door. The front door was the closest, but I’d have to get by Pop to reach it. The kitchen door was further away. I’d never make it. Even drunk, Pop was fast.

  Fast and strong.

  He’d catch me before I made it ten feet, much less twenty.

  Still, I wasn’t going to lie down like a dog and take a beating.

  “Pop.” I stepped back, the back of my sneakers hitting the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t do anything, I swear. You know Mrs. Miller hates me. She’s always looking for a reason to send me to the principal’s office.”

  Pop hissed out a curse. He wasn’t buying it. It didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do, he’d believe whatever my teacher said. Partly because he hated me and partly because, if I got in trouble, it gave him a reason to hurt me.

  “Bullshit. You’re always causing problems. Here. At school. It doesn’t matter. You’ve never been anything but trouble, boy.” He looked me up and down, disdain written all over his features. “But that’s about to change. Don’t care what I gotta do, Hendrix. Hell, I’ll beat it out of you if I have to.”

  Sweat beads formed on the back of my neck and down the length of my spine.

  I have to get out of here.

  Pop took a step forward, his hands fisted at his sides. “Ain’t no wonder your bitch of a mama bolted before you could even walk.” He took another step. “Even that worthless whore knew what a piece of shit you were. What a little fuck-up you were gonna grow up to be.”

  His words were meant to hurt me, but they didn’t. Not anymore. I’d heard them almost every day for the past fourteen years. I’d become immune to them. Besides, I knew the truth. My mama didn’t leave because of me. She left because of him. She left because he was an abusive drunk who used his fists instead of his words to solve his problems.

  I probably should have hated her too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t hold leaving against her. The only reason I held any ill feelings towards her was because, when she ran, she didn’t take me with her. Instead, she left me, her ten-month-old baby, with the monster she was running from.

  Even as a kid, I didn’t understand how she could do that.

  When I had kids of my own, I’d never do something like that to them.

  “Are you deaf, boy?” Pop inched closer, the gap between us closing quickly. “I told you to get over here. It wasn’t a request. When I tell you to do something, you need to do it.”

  Hands shaking, I crept up the next step. The floorboard creaked under my weight and Pop heard it. He looked at my feet. Where I was standing, he saw that I was about to make my escape, and smiled. He liked it when I tried to run or when I fought back.

  The psycho.

  “See, that’s the problem with you, Hendrix. It doesn’t matter what I tell you to do, you never fucking listen.”

  “I listen just fine!” My voice shook with anger.

  I clenched my hands into fists. I was sick of this. Sick of him. I was tired of being his punching bag. I don’t know what made him hate me so much, but it couldn’t have been anything I’d done.

  Pop stopped mid-step and shook his head before raising his hand and pointing a finger in my direction. “That right there, that’s part of the problem. That mouth of yours. Always running. Never know when to quit, do you?”

  It was stupid, and it was juvenile, but I couldn’t help but fire back. “I do know when to quit, Pop. Unlike you!”

  Pop raised his chin, his eyes filled with rage. “What’s that supposed to mean, boy?”

  I straightened my spine. I wouldn’t back down. Not this time. I couldn’t take him one on one but that didn’t mean I had to put up with his crap.

  I wasn’t a pussy.

  I raised my chin. Defiant to the core. “Exactly what I said. You’re the one who doesn’t know when to quit fighting. Don’t know when to quit drinking.” I watched as Pop’s eyes blazed with fire and hatred, a dangerous combination. “You say it’s my fault Mama left, but it isn’t nobody’s fault but yours. She left because you’re a bastard. Nothing more. Nothing less.” I continued glaring at him as my feet moved my body up three more steps. “And one day, when I can survive on my own, I’ll leave you too.”

  Just like that, I threw the gauntlet down.

  Pop was only too happy to pick it back up.

  He smiled a big, full tooth grin. It was scary. Sinister. And it was directed
right at me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “That right?” His voice was lower than I’d ever heard it before.

  I nodded. “Yeah. That’s right.” I felt brave. Grown. Proud.

  And stupidly confident when I had no reason to be.

  As a kid, I was a cocky little shit.

  Silence blanketed the room as my ears filled with the pounding of my heart.

  Chest heaving, Pop’s nostrils flared.

  He was pissed. Pissed with a capital P.

  My spine tingled as my fight or flight response kicked in. My mind screamed at me to run, to escape, before it was too late. In the back of my head I knew if I didn’t get out of there now, I may not be able to later.

  Taking one last deep breath, I made a break for it by turning to run up the remaining stairs. My plan was to make it to the hall bathroom and lock the door behind me. With the door locked I would crawl out of the window and drop to the roof of the porch below. From there, I could use the lattice to climb the rest of the way down.

  Wouldn’t be the first time I’d done it.

  Once on the ground, my bike would be within feet. And my bike was the key to my escape. I could ride faster than I could run.

 

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