False Perceptions

by Michelle Heard

  “You’ll see,” he answers cryptically.

  When we stop at a local airfield, I glance at Hayden. “Are we flying somewhere?”

  “You could say so,” he says with a big grin on his face.

  “Hayden,” I say as we climb out, “where are we flying to?”

  “Up.”

  Damn, the man is good at keeping secrets.

  He takes my hand and leads me to an open hangar.

  “Wait here,” he says as he goes to talk to a man.

  I wish I could read lips.

  When they’re done talking, they shake hands. The man gives me a wave as he walks toward a really small plane. I’m not sure how I feel about going up in that thing.

  Hayden takes my hand again and leads me over to where gear is packed out on the floor.

  Seeing the jumpsuits, I stop dead in my tracks.

  “Oh, hell no,” I say, trying to pull my hand free from Hayden’s.

  He drops my hand, but before I can run for my life, he catches me around the waist and pulls me hard against his chest.

  “Trust me, babe. I’ve done this so many times, I’ve lost count. I won’t let anything happen to you up there.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t do heights, and it’s not up there I’m worried about,” I say pointing up. “It’s splatting against the ground.”

  “Not even if it will give you the best orgasm of your life?” he teases with a cocky grin.

  “You’re just saying that to get a parachute strapped to my back.”

  “You won’t have one. You’ll be strapped to me, and I promise you I’ll get you safely back on the ground.”

  “I’ll be strapped to you?” I ask to make sure.

  “Yes. You don’t have to do anything.”

  “If I die, I promise I will haunt you,” I threaten him before I let him lead me over to the gear.

  Once we’re ready and walking toward the plane, I hold onto Hayden’s hand for dear life. I’m still okay until we take off. The moment we’re airborne, my heart speeds up. By the time we reach the right altitude, it feels as if my heart is ready to pound right through my ribcage.

  Once I’m glued to Hayden’s chest, he shouts, “I’ve got you. Try to enjoy it.”

  When Hayden moves closer to the tail of the plane, I let out a shriek, wishing I could hide my face in the crook of his neck.

  With his mouth right by my ear, he shouts, “Three.”

  And then he jumps.

  The wind rushes around us, and I shut my eyes. Only when our bodies jerk, do they fly open again. Turning my head, I glance over my shoulder. I really don’t want to look down. My eyes dart to Hayden’s and seeing his wide smile, makes me glance up. The jerk was from the first parachute opening.

  Hayden taps me on the cheek, then points down.

  I shake my head, scowling at him. There’s no way I’m looking down.

  “Please,” he mouths, and giving in, I risk a quick glance down. When I see the ground far below us, and I feel the wind on my face, I realize why he did this.

  We’re soaring.

  I’m soaring with my Eagle.

  HAYDEN

  After landing us safely on the ground, I rush to get our helmets off. I drop them next to us and framing her face with my hands, I kiss her hard.

  Emilie trusted me. She fucking trusts me and it’s all that matters.

  I know I promised her an orgasm, but I have something else planned. I pull back and look down at her smiling face before I unzip the jumpsuit. Removing a set of dog tags from around my neck, I place it in my hand so Emilie can read what it says as I hold them out to her.

  She gives me a quick smile before she picks them up, and I watch her smile fade with a pounding heart.

  “Are these the coordinates we jumped at?” she asks, not looking up at me.

  “Yes.” I go down on one knee, and looking up at Emilie, I say, “I’m not going to ask you to marry me, Emilie. Getting married is just a formality.”

  She nods, her eyes locked on mine.

  “I’m asking you to commit yourself to me for life. I promise to never break your trust, never make you doubt my love, but above all, I promise that I will honor you, I will protect you, and I will cherish you.”

  I take a breath as I climb to my feet.

  “On the other dog tag is my vow. Once you put them on it will mean the same thing as wearing my ring. It will mean that we’re committed for life.”

  Emilie doesn’t hesitate, as she puts them on. She launches herself at me, and wrapping her arms around my neck, she presses her mouth to mine.

  When she pulls back, I smile down at her, as I pull my own dog tags out so she can see the tag I’ve added.

  She leans closer and then starts to laugh.

  Emilie’s Eagle.

  The End

  Just a note from me…

  This book was cathartic for me.

  The past year I’ve rediscovered myself.

  As a mother, a daughter, a woman, but mostly as a person.

  I’ve learned that I have to love myself.

  I’ve learned that I have to fight for myself.

  I’ve learned that I have to take care of myself because no one else will.

  I’ve also learned that people treat you the way you allow them to treat you.

  The biggest lesson I have learned is that there is nothing wrong with wanting the best life has to offer.

  I deserve the best, and so do you.

  With that said, here is my plea to you…

  Never allow another person to suppress your individuality.

  Never become a doormat or allow yourself to be beaten so far down that you don’t even feel worthy of being walked over.

  You have the same rights as anyone else.

  Find happiness in yourself.

  Be happy with who you are, the journey you are on, and all the potential of who you can grow to be.

  No one will ever talk to you as much as you talk to yourself, so let your words be kind.

  No one will ever love you the way you deserve to be loved, so love yourself deeply and unconditionally.

  No one will be as forgiving as you are, so forgive yourself always.

  Lastly, no one will dream with you, hope with you, and wish with you – so please, dream big, hope with all your heart and wish on every shooting star, ladybug, and butterfly that crosses your path.

  Live like you are dying.

  Embrace everything with an open mind.

  Forgive.

  Let go.

  But most of all… live a life well lived.

  Hugs,

  Michelle.

  If you loved False Perceptions, then you’ll be happy to know that Max and Gabs will be getting their own book. You can add it to your TBR list on Goodreads by clicking on True Perceptions.

  Please read on for an excerpt from

  PREDATOR

  PROLOGUE

  CARA

  “Cara,” Dad calls out to me, “do you have the blanket?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I pull the blanket out of the car and set off after my parents. Unlike most teens, I love being with mine. We have a great relationship. I know I can talk to them about anything. It’s just always been that way with us.

  Dad starts the boat motor and then he steers us down the river. It’s a sunny day with a light breeze to cool the worst of the heat. We always come out here after lunch. This is our family time together. Once we get to the wide open space of the dam, dad starts to slow the boat down.

  I spread the blanket open and laugh happily as Mom and I lie down, trying to get comfy. Dad kills the motor when he’s satisfied with the spot we’re in, and then he comes to lie down on my other side.

  “Look at that one,” Dad says, pointing to a cloud. “It looks like a car.”

  I laugh. “Everything looks like a car to you.”

  “No, seriously,” he laughs, too, but carries on, “look, those are the wheels, that there is the roof.”


  We talk about the silliest of things and then we grow quiet and just listen to the birds chirping all around us. I’m going to miss doing this with my parents, once I’m away at college. I only have a few precious weeks left with them. I drift off, like I always do.

  There is a loud crash that yanks me out of my peaceful sleep. I hear my parents scream and my whole body goes instantly cold from shock.

  The boat tilts sharply and it tosses my body to the side. I try to claw at the floor, searching for something to grab onto. I slam hard into one of the chairs and it jars my body making a sharp pain shoot through me.

  The boat breaks apart with a loud crack, and water swallows the pieces with greedy gulps.

  “Daddy! Mommy!” I shout. My eyes dart around, searching for any sign of them, but there is nothing but the boat breaking apart and the awful noise.

  What’s left of the boat rises sharply into the air, like a beast gasping its last breath. I start to slide down and grab for the chair, but I’m too late. Something knocks hard into my shoulder, only speeding up my decent into the muddy water.

  “Daddy,” I scream as I claw for anything to stop my fall. Splinters of wood stab at me, and then muddy water swallows me.

  I know how to swim. I’m a good swimmer, but the color of the water robs me of my breath … it’s red. I struggle to get back to the top and it only makes an ice cold fear spread through my body.

  I don’t want to die!

  I hear a louder sound. It’s not like the crash. This time it hits at the water, hammering its way closer to me.

  The water won’t let me go.

  White hot pain slices through me and I swallow water.

  I swallow blood.

  I wake up to a blinding light and I have to blink a couple of times before the light stops stinging my watering eyes. Confusion crashes through me.

  Where am I? I try to say the words, but they come out sounding like a garbled groan.

  My eyes dart around the room, and then a sharp pain starts to pulse in my back.

  Where are Dad and Mom? What happened?

  Shuddering sobs ripple from my chest, making the pain so much worse. Hot tears spill from my eyes, slipping into my hair.

  “Cara.” My eyes jump to the voice and I see it’s Uncle Tom, Mommy’s brother. “I’m sorry,” he says, while getting up from the chair.

  I frown, not sure what he’s sorry for.

  He rubs tiredly over his face and then sighs heavily. “There was an accident. Your parents… they didn’t make it.”

  My parents … they’re dead?

  NO! My heart squeezes painfully and then a sharp twinge starts to grow in my chest. I suck in an agonizing breath, but the feeling keeps growing until I’m hollowed out and only filled with the loss of my parents. On my next breath, sobs start to tear from my throat.

  They can’t be gone! It’s too soon. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  My thoughts start to race and panic sets into my bones. They can’t be dead … not my parents.

  The reality of never seeing my parents again hits hard, an ache so deep it shatters me. An empty feeling overwhelms me, something I’ve never felt before. It’s like a wave that washes all my happy memories away, leaving only a harrowing heartbreak behind.

  I’m too scared to say a word, and my eyes beg Uncle Tom to tell me different. I keep looking to the door expecting Dad and Mom to come rushing in at any moment.

  They’ll make it all better. They’ll take the emptiness away.

  “The nursing staff will look after you. Once you can walk you should leave the country.” I look at Uncle Tom, confused at his words.

  Why would I leave South Africa? This is my home.

  He lifts the mattress right under my butt, and the movement jars my body, sending a wave of pain through my back. I watch as he shoves a thick envelope under the mattress before dropping it down again.

  “Keep that envelope safe. It has a new passport and some money in it for you. I’ve arranged a visa for you to go to America, but it’s only valid for three months. I could only get you a temporary one on such short notice. You can’t stay here. Once you’re in America, stick to the small towns and never use your name again. Forget where you come from, or they will find you.”

  They? Who are they? Why would people be coming for me? I don’t understand any of this.

  I want to scream as a helpless feeling overwhelms me.

  Uncle Tom gently caresses my cheek, a sad look giving his face a haggard appearance. “Leave South Africa, Cara. As soon as you can.” He leans over me and places a chaste kiss to my forehead. “Run, Cara. Run far away and never stop!”

  I watch him leave and then I’m left alone in the hospital room with only the envelope and a heart filled with sharp pieces of emptiness that are stabbing at my insides with every panicked breath I try to suck in.

  For a moment I can only blink and breathe before the reality starts to squeeze at my insides again.

  My parents are dead!

  I’m alone?

  I start to weep, grief-stricken and distressed by all that’s happened to me.

  I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what to do. I want my Dad and Mom.

  A nurse comes into the room and smiles warmly at me, but I feel none of the warmth. She gives me something and it starts to soothe the pain that’s clawing at my heart.

  I know the relief is only temporary, but I welcome the blissful sleep with open arms.

  CHAPTER 1

  CARA

  “Time to close up,” Mr. Johnson says with that eerily quiet tone of his. In the beginning it used to freak me out, but you get used to stuff like that if you need money. I’ve done so many different types of jobs in my life, but selling stuffed animals must be my least favorite and weirdest.

  Mr. Johnson offered to teach me ‘the tricks of the trade’ (his words, not mine.) There is no way I want to learn how to be a taxidermist. I just need another hundred bucks and I’m out of here. I’ve already stayed here for too long.

  I live a lonely life, but I’ve grown used to it. It’s just the way it is. It doesn’t help to question something you can’t change. It’s better to just accept that it’s the way my life is going to be.

  I now go by the name of Cassy Smith, my mother’s name. Cassy is short for Cassandra and Smith was her maiden name. That was a nice thing of Uncle Tom to do. I feel closer to her that way.

  I still don’t understand any of the things that happened to me when I was eighteen. No, I’m lying. I understand the pain, because it’s the only thing that was real and constant.

  I don’t understand what happened on the boat, or to my parents. I don’t understand why I had to leave, and why Uncle Tom left me.

  I’ve come to the conclusion that life is not meant to be understood – trying will only drive you insane. Life is just meant to be lived, every day a new day with its own problems.

  I’ve been in the US for seven years. Lucky number seven … right? I can’t use my passport anymore. It was only valid for three months, but that was all I needed to find my first job, which was cleaning toilets at a truck stop. It was a shitty job but that’s why they let me work there in the first place. Cheap labor.

  I keep moving, just like Uncle Tom said. I don’t stay longer than two months in one spot. I’ve been here six weeks already and I’m feeling the familiar itch to run.

  I don’t make friends and I sure as hell don’t grow attached to anyone, and that’s the reason why I had to push Steven away. I could see more with him. If you can see more with someone, it usually means trouble. When you’re on the run, getting attached to another person is like carrying a dead weight around your neck.

  I thought it was a good thing to hook up with him for one night, seeing as he was traveling through Scappoose. He only came to hunt some deer, then he’d head back home.

  We had sex, nothing spectacular, but it soothed the craving for another human’s touch.

  He never left. I’ve seen him hanging around
at the local bar, so I stopped going there.

  It’s time to leave. I can feel it in my gut.

  I shrug on my jacket that’s seen better days and I make sure the heater we keep under the counter is off. This store is already an ice box and it’s not even winter yet.

  While Mr. Johnson locks up in the back where his workshop is, I quickly take out my food for the day. The water in the urn is still warm, so I just pour some over the cup o’ noodles and then wait for Mr. Johnson.

  He comes shuffling out of his workshop, and I open the front door so he can just keep shuffling by me. I don’t want him to slow down, because then he will find a hundred things to do and I’ll be stuck here longer.

  Using my foot as a doorstop, I quickly turn the open sign so it shows closed. When we’re both out of the store, Mr. Johnson locks the door. He waves tiredly at me, before he shuffles slowly down the sidewalk. I guess I should go home, too.

  Home.

  There is no such place for me. I move from shady motel to even shadier motel. That’s been my life since I ran away from that hospital. I had to run, not for fear of my life, but because I had no way of paying the huge bill. I snuck out like a thief in the night.

  I walk slowly and test the heat of my dinner with the tip of my finger. It’s cooled down already. I stick my finger in the cup and stir until it looks good enough to swallow. When you’ve been living off cup o’ noodles for years, you don’t chew, you just swallow so the stuff can fill your growling stomach. Chewing, now that is reserved for tacos, or pizza, or burgers … sigh.

  “Hi,” I hear someone call behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Steven jogging towards me.

  “Well, this sucks,” I mutter.

  He catches up to me and throws his arm around my shoulders. “Where are we going?”