Reckless Memories

by Catherine Cowles

  Reckless Memories

  Catherine Cowles

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Bell

  2. Ford

  3. Bell

  4. Ford

  5. Bell

  6. Ford

  7. Ford

  8. Bell

  9. Ford

  10. Bell

  11. Ford

  12. Bell

  13. Ford

  14. Bell

  15. Ford

  16. Bell

  17. Ford

  18. Bell

  19. Bell

  20. Ford

  21. Bell

  22. Ford

  23. Bell

  24. Ford

  25. Bell

  26. Ford

  27. Bell

  28. Ford

  29. Bell

  30. Ford

  31. Bell

  32. Bell

  33. Ford

  34. Bell

  35. Bell

  36. Ford

  37. Bell

  38. Ford

  39. Bell

  40. Ford

  41. Bell

  42. Ford

  43. Bell

  44. Ford

  45. Bell

  46. Ford

  47. Bell

  Epilogue

  Bonus Scene

  Enjoy This Book?

  Acknowledgments

  Also Available from Catherine Cowles

  About Catherine Cowles

  Stay Connected

  RECKLESS MEMORIES

  * * *

  Copyright © 2020 by The PageSmith LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This 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, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Susan Barnes

  Copy Editor: Chelle Olson

  Proofreading: Julie Deaton, Janice Owen, and Stephanie Marshall Ward

  Paperback Formatting: Stacey Blake, Champagne Book Designs

  Cover Design: Hang Le

  This book is for all of my amazing sisters. They don’t share my blood, but they share my soul. Thank you for your support, encouragement, and love. I am eternally grateful to be surrounded by so many amazing women.

  Prologue

  Isabelle

  PAST

  “I would rather sit on a hill of fire ants in my underwear while eating ghost peppers.” I leaned against the counter and popped a cracker into my mouth. My nose wrinkled. It was one of those multigrain ones that tasted more like cardboard than actual food.

  “Isabelle Marie Kipton, I have had just about enough of your snarkiness, young lady.”

  But I wasn’t a young lady, at least not in my mother’s estimation. Young ladies were poised and put-together and never questioned the dictates their parents set for them. I questioned everything, never went along easily, and was far too disheveled to gain any sort of approval from my parents.

  I stared unblinkingly at my mother, not giving an inch.

  “You will sit at that dinner table, and you will be composed and polite to our company.”

  I let out a snort. “Like their daughter is composed and polite to me?” Lacey was more like the Devil incarnate, but she wore her pretty, polite mask perfectly. So, my mother might as well have thought she was the Second Coming.

  Violet looked up from where she was arranging a platter of hors d’oeuvres. “Lacey snaps back because you bait her. Maybe you two are just more similar than you’d like to admit, and you ruffle each other’s feathers.”

  I glanced up at my older sister. The perfect image of the young lady my parents wished I would be, with her impeccably styled hair and future-doctor composure. She might as well have been a stranger. When had that happened? I searched my mind for the date the switch had been flipped, when Violet had gone from friend and confidante, the sister who’d always had my back, to someone I couldn’t even begin to understand most of the time.

  “You can be friends with her all you want, Vi. I’ll take a pass on having vicious snakes in my circle.” I glanced at my mother. “Or sharing a dinner table with them.”

  Red crept up my mother’s neck and seeped into her face. “What is wrong with you?” I stayed silent. The list of what my mother found wrong with me would take us all night to get through. “That’s it. Hand over your phone.”

  My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “Are you seriously taking my cell because I don’t want to have dinner with someone who’s awful to me? Who bullies my friends, and is cruel to everyone who isn’t in her little gang of followers? I’ve tried to tell you time and again that she’s not who you think she is.”

  My mother held out her hand. “Perhaps if you kept better company, these things wouldn’t be an issue. You are who you spend time with, Isabelle. And those girls you run around with are not what I want for your future.”

  My back teeth ground together as I slipped my hand into my back pocket, pulling out the device she’d requested and placing it in her palm. No phone meant no emergency line to my best friends, to Ford, to the people who kept me sane amidst the insanity that my mother brought about. I kept my face carefully blank. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’d impacted me in any way. She didn’t deserve to know she had that power.

  “Since you insist on acting childish, you’ll be treated as one. Your curfew is now nine p.m.”

  I gave her nothing. I was already a prisoner in this home full of people who’d rather judge me than try and understand where I was coming from. God forbid they actually listen to what I had to say.

  My mother let out an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t you be more like Violet? She’s polite and helpful, yet you insist on creating trouble and strife.”

  It cut more than it should have. If I’d had a dollar for every time she’d said something similar to me, I’d be able to go to college anywhere I dreamed. “But I’m not like her, am I? So, it’s probably safer that I’m gone when your friends are here. You wouldn’t want them to know just what a disappointment I am, now would you?”

  “Iz…” Violet started towards me—to comfort or placate, I wasn’t sure—but I ducked out of her hold. I didn’t want her reassurance. I wanted out of this space that felt too tight, as if the walls were closing in on me.

  My dad strode into the kitchen, drawn by the raised voices. “Just let her go, Heather. She’s sixteen, she can choose to skip out on one dinner.”

  Mom’s glare cut to my dad, a clear threat of the price he’d pay later for defending me. But he was used to her vindictive streak by now and didn’t waver. She turned back to me. “Fine. Be selfish and immature. It’s not like I should expect anything different from you.”

  I didn’t say a word, just snatched a granola bar from the pantry and ran out the back door, out of that suffocating house, and towards freedom.

  I hunkered down, burrowing into the scattering of pillows I kept in the old tree house at the back of our property, and turned up the music pumping into my headphones. If the songs were loud enough, I could drown everything out: the frustration, the disappointment, the hurt. But some days, there wasn’t a decibel high enough or a playlist long enough. And nothing could erase my mother’s wrath that I’d be dealing with for weeks to come.

  I gazed up at the ceiling of the tree house, to the wild mural I’d been slowly adding to over time. My own
secret garden. I’d painstakingly doodled and painted hundreds of flowers, interwoven with gnarled vines, as if I could build my own little world here.

  I turned the music up another couple of clicks, softly singing along. Music and art. I could lose myself there. I could feel free for a handful of moments before the world came crashing in again.

  I felt a tug on one of my earbuds, and it popped free. I stifled a scream as I took in the dark blond head of hair that appeared in the opening of the floor. My hand flew to my chest as my heart rattled. “Geez, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

  Ford hoisted himself into the tree house, tanned muscles bunching and flexing with his graceful movements. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “My ears are bleeding, Trouble. I thought a cat was being killed up here, but nope”—he shot me a grin—“it’s just you butchering Bob Dylan’s greatest hits.”

  I threw one of the pillows beside me at Ford’s head. “Bite your tongue. I have the voice of an angel.”

  He scoffed but scooted closer to me, leaning against the wall. “So…”

  “Yes, Cupcake?”

  Ford gave a strand of my hair a quick tug. “You know, the football team started calling me that because of you.”

  My eyes went wide. “Oh, man. That makes me ridiculously happy.”

  “One of the guys from another team asked me out after a game, assuming they called me that because I was gay.”

  Laughter rolled through me, taking over and causing tears to pool in my eyes. “What did you say?”

  “I told him I was flattered, but I had a girlfriend.” I arched a brow at him. Ford grinned. “I was flattered, he’s a hell of a cornerback.”

  I shook my head. “You’re my favorite.”

  Ford tilted his head so that he could meet my gaze. “But you abandoned me to face the firing squad without you?”

  I winced. “How bad?”

  “Trouble, there is smoke coming out of your mom’s ears. And Lacey, she’s just…” He gave an exaggerated shiver. I covered my face with my hands, shaking my head. Ford knocked his foot against mine, and I peeked out between two fingers. His lips twitched as his blue eyes seemed to sparkle. “Making a stand, or just avoiding?”

  Ford’s words made warmth spread through my chest. He understood me better than almost anyone. I let my hands fall away from my face. “I can’t handle Lacey for three solid hours. It’s bad enough I have to deal with her at school nine months out of the year.”

  Ford chuckled. “So, you left me to deal with them alone.”

  “I’m sure Violet protected you.”

  He shook his head, a gentle smile on his face, the one he wore only for my sister. “Vi’s too nice to stand up to either of them.”

  A pang of jealousy pierced low in my belly, followed quickly by a flood of guilt. These feelings that had built over the past couple of years made me feel like a horrible human being. I cleared my throat. “Probably better that way, wouldn’t want her to lose a hand. Lacey’s liable to bite it off.”

  Instead of laughing like I thought he would, Ford studied me carefully. “Things getting worse?”

  I pushed myself up against the pillows, letting out a sound of frustration. “Mom is making it worse by trying to force some weird friendship when she knows we don’t get along.” Not getting along was the understatement of the year. No, of a lifetime. Because that’s precisely how long Lacey Hotchkiss had seemed to despise my two best friends and me. And in typical mean-girl fashion, she had made sure that the rest of our classmates knew all the ways she found us lacking.

  “But she’s never made you run before.” Of course, Ford knew there was more. “Talk to me, Trouble.”

  I hated the tears that gathered at the corners of my eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek to fight them off until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. “She stole my clothes.”

  Ford’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”

  I toyed with a tassel on one of my pillows, braiding and unbraiding the strands, unable to meet his gaze. “At the beach last week. I was changing in one of the stalls. I hung my bathing suit over the door, and when I bent down to get my bag, she pulled it out from under the stall while one of her minions grabbed my suit.”

  A muscle in Ford’s cheek seemed to flicker. “What did you do?”

  I’d been freezing and terrified. All I could think about was if I’d have to walk out there stark-naked to try and find my friends. I stood there for thirty minutes before they found me. “Caelyn and Kenna finally came looking for me. Luckily, between the two of them, they had an extra shirt and shorts.” But I’d had to walk home with no bra or underwear. I’d felt oddly vulnerable. A memory of the tears I’d fought the whole way home had anger simmering in my belly.

  “This isn’t okay. Why didn’t you tell me? Or your parents? Or Vi?”

  I released my hold on the tassel. “I didn’t want to put you in the middle again. And my bag was sitting on the front steps when I got home. They’d never have believed me.” They never had before. And Violet had her head stuck in the sand about Lacey.

  Ford knocked his knee against mine. “I’m sorry, Trouble. I hate that Vi and I are leaving you here to deal with this on your own.”

  I forced a bit of brightness into my tone that I didn’t feel. “You guys have to go and get educated. I don’t want a bunch of idiots for a sister and brother-in-law.”

  Ford chuckled and tousled my hair. He and my sister weren’t engaged yet, but it was a running joke that I called him my brother-in-law because it was only a matter of time. But that wasn’t the truth of it. I used the nickname to remind myself of how Ford saw me—as a little sister. To remind myself of what he would always be to me. A brother. The only problem was, he didn’t feel like any sort of brother. He felt like something else entirely. Stupid freaking hormones. I was blaming it all on puberty. It had ruined everything.

  I glanced up at Ford, a lock of his hair sweeping over his forehead in that perfect way it did. “Are you getting excited?”

  He gave a little shrug. “Mostly. Sometimes, I wish we were going farther than just Seattle.”

  “Why don’t you? You guys can always transfer next year.”

  “Vi doesn’t want to stray too far from home.”

  I rolled my eyes. My sister always played it safe, did everything by the rules. And Seattle University was the closest college she could find to our tiny island off the coast of Washington. “Is it because my parents want her to stay close?” She almost always did what they asked of her. Ford was her one big rebellion. They had never been crazy about him, had thought she could do better, but he’d worn them down over time. How could he not? Even people as blind as my parents had to see how much he adored my sister.

  Ford cleared his throat. “I think it’s partly that, partly that she doesn’t want to be so far away from everything she knows, everything that’s comfortable.”

  I groaned. “I’m sorry, Cupcake. You deserve to have some adventures.” I’d give anything to get off this tiny island and experience more of the world, to feel…free.

  “I bet I’ll be able to bring her around. Not in time for this semester, but maybe the next.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you.”

  Ford toyed with the edge of a pillow. “What about you? Any ideas where you’ll apply?”

  I had two years left at Anchor High, but I’d started sending away for college brochures when I was a freshman. “Anywhere that’s not here.”

  Ford chuckled as a blond head poked through the door in the floor. My sister eyed us both for a moment and then let out an exasperated sigh. “I should’ve known the duo of destruction would be in their secret hideout.”

  I gave a shrug and did my best to curve my mouth into a smile. “Hey, I offered to make it the trio of terror, but you always refuse to go on our missions.”

  Violet shook her head as she crawled into the tree house and settled on my other side. “I just didn’t want a rap sheet
at the tender age of ten.”

  I let out a laugh. “Toilet-papering Lacey’s bike with Ford was worth a month of grounding.”

  Violet looked towards our house. “You’d think they’d have learned by now that it’s not smart to try and force you two together.”

  “She stole my prized Polly Pocket and wouldn’t give it back. The toilet-papering was justified.”

  Vi let out a light laugh, dainty and beautiful, just like she was. “Maybe it’s better to play along and let Mom and Dad think you’re toeing the line. Would that be so bad?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip. “Yes, it would be.” I looked up to meet my sister’s gaze. She just didn’t get it. “They want me to have acceptable friends. To them, the daughter of a lawyer is appropriate, no matter how much of a raving bitch she is.” Because as awful as Lacey was to me, she was even worse to Kenna for some reason, and I would never let someone into my life who hurt my best friend, even if it was only for show.

  A hint of annoyance flashed across Violet’s expression. “Please don’t call her that. I know you two don’t get along, but she’s my friend.”

  Ford shifted in his seat. “Vi, I don’t know if you have the whole picture.”

  Her gaze snapped to him. “I don’t think you do either. Iz eggs Lacey on, and Lacey isn’t as tough as she seems. It hurts her feelings.”