Beloved (The Belonging Series)

by Corinne Michaels

  Suddenly the little girl turns and runs back to her brother, who’s screaming her name.

  Fuck.

  I turn back to Twilight, who’s staring off at the perimeter. I kick myself for thinking the little girl would give us any answers. Mark was right when he said this was stupid. There’s no court of law and no one gives a damn here, but I couldn’t let it go. Again, because of me and my choices someone else’s blood is on my hands. It was my fucking mission—I sent him. I made him go, even though his wife was seven months pregnant, because I was dealing with the stupid cosmetics shit—which I never wanted in the first place. It was never supposed to be my job. It was for her. Now it’s my goddamn mess. Running one company was responsibility enough, but two?

  As I walk to the detonation point, the air shifts.

  My entire body goes still. Not a muscle moves.

  The hairs on my arms rise. I take a breath as everything around me becomes crystal clear and moves in slow motion. The tree on my left is moving. A bird flies to the north. A sense of calm washes over me as the sound barrels toward me.

  I can count the seconds. I know it’s coming.

  The heartbeats of time pass.

  Until it hits.

  The bullet rips through my skin and muscle before exiting the other side. I jerk back from the impact of the gunshot. Everything stops as my body registers what my mind was prepared for. I’ve been shot.

  Pain. Numb. Pain. It crushes together.

  I hunch over as another bullet shreds through my body. I buckle and crumple to the ground as the agony becomes too much. Holy fucking shit! I curse and yell as the sound of bullets rains down.

  “Shots fired! Shots fired!” I hear from a distance.

  Yeah, no shit shots fired.

  “He’s down!” I hear Mark call out from behind the Humvee.

  The bullets hit the ground around me. The sound of each one bouncing on the dirt just inches away from me vibrates in my head.

  I start to crawl toward the truck for cover.

  Another bullet hits.

  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” I scream out as it tears through me.

  “Don’t move!” Mark yells franticly as I try to roll and grab my gun.

  “On the roof! Sniper on the roof,” I cry out.

  Pop. Pop. Pop. I hear them over and over. Heavy gunfire fills my ears as Mark continues to yell at me. All I see is red. My vision fades in and out.

  Black.

  Red.

  White.

  “Kill them and let’s go!” Mark’s loud voice says over the sound of bullets. “Up on the ridge. There’s another one!”

  I return fire, trying to shoot my way to safety. The sounds of screaming and gunfire are all I register.

  “Muff!” Mark calls out as my vision starts to fade. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  Everything becomes foggy. My eyes. I’m so tired. But then I see her. She’s beautiful. Her dark blue eyes pierce through the pain, giving me numbness. Her long blond hair is exactly as I remember. She walks toward me with her hand outstretched. “Madelyn.” Her name rolls off my tongue effortlessly. She steps closer as I extend my arm. Closer and closer, her eyes stay locked on mine.

  “Jackson, no! Stay with me,” I hear. Catherine’s voice. The sound of it jolts me and I drop my hand.

  “Catherine,” I call out to her.

  Opening my eyes, I see Mark’s face contort as he continues to shoot. “Motherfucker! Move!” Using my arms, I try to crawl closer.

  I see him throw his gun down and rush toward me.

  “Mark,” I croak. My vision is hazy.

  I’m weak. I can’t hold on.

  The pain is taking over and I can’t fight the black.

  I close my eyes. There’s no fight. I’m too tired. She’s here, waiting for me with her long brown hair and chocolate brown eyes—she’s perfect. It’s too much. In the dark, I see her. In the dark, there’s no pain, no guilt—just her.

  I focus on the warmth in her eyes and succumb to the numbness.

  If I fail to mention someone I’m eternally sorry. Some of you kept me afloat when I felt like I was sinking. Some were my cheerleaders, some were a little more forceful making me write when I wanted to sleep, but all of you have made my life complete.

  Cara, what do I even say to you? Because really … there aren’t enough words to express my gratitude. No amount of thank you’s can suffice. From day one you stood behind me and pushed—hard. You made me laugh and then bawl my eyes out but it was expected and needed. The jokes and laughter regarding my incessant rewrites and “wait don’t read that version” kept me desperate to keep you on your toes. The backroom deals, the quest to find Jackson, letting me talk to myself with you on the phone. #NMCNMM

  Mandi, you “got” their story. Your support and honesty was invaluable. Thank you for not letting me try out for American Idol when I couldn’t sing and for loving Jackson. Most of all thank you for keeping me grounded. You gave me your time, love, and wisdom when I needed it. You are my Muffin and no one loves him more than you and Cara! #IlovemyMuffDirty

  Betas, I have no words to fully express the appreciation I have for you. Livia, Roxana, Stacia, Jennifer, and Lisa … you pushed me to do better and made me laugh, cry, and shake my head in awe of your genuine love and support. Thank you for dropping things to read and not backing down. For the refusal to let me put out anything less than my best and not allowing me to get away with anything. Beta reading is hard and I appreciate how honest you all were. but I know you all came from a place of love and for that I thank you so much. A huge thank you to my test readers: Alison, Letty, Donna, Jessica, Keisha and Tara. You gave me so much feedback on the finished product and blew me away. It meant the world to me.

  Angie, thank you for all of you support, love, and friendship. For taking your time to make sure I had a successful release. You held my hand when I was afraid and gave me words of wisdom when I needed it. I love your face!

  Lisa, it’s not everyday you meet someone and just “click”. Our friendship was never forced, it just happened. Your snark, sarcasm, and love of Jackie has brought us closer than ever. I love ya!

  Rose, you are my inspiration. You pushed me to see the courage I had when I didn’t think it was there. You forced me to do better day after day. The tears you virtually wiped and then literally wiped I will never forget. Thank you for being my wifey and never letting me down. There are certain people who enter our lives for one reason or another and I’m thankful everyday you are one of them. Our friendship is beyond all of this and I’ll cherish it always.

  Emmy, Kristy, and Laurelin, if it weren’t for you three I wouldn’t have had the guts to write in the first place. When I told you this is what I was going to do you all stood behind me and made me go forward. You read my first drafts and said, “keep going”. I love you all as writers and friends.

  Faith, you made me a better writer and challenged me to listen to my characters! I can’t tell you how much your friendship means to me. Every single day I’m grateful I met you. While it may have been a complete fluke that we met you’ve become one of my closest friends that I rely on more than you may know.

  FYW: I can’t even say enough about you ladies. During times of doubt, struggle, joy, and happiness we’ve come together. It has been so special to me and I love every one of you.

  To my editor, Megan Ward, you are so much more than an editor. You took a hold of my story and cared for it. Your attention to every detail, every word, and every emotion was astounding. This process was exciting and remarkable because of you. You achieved your goal of making this fun. I can only hope every writer at some time or another gets to work with you. Thank you for empowering me to push harder and see what was there. I will forever laugh when I see anyone wink.

  My cover designer, Najla Qamber, thank you for making it perfect. I love every single thing about it. You are truly an amazing artist.

  Christine from Perfectly Publishable, you stepped in a
nd saved the day. I appreciate your professionalism, attention to detail, and making this a painless and wonderful experience.

  Bloggers – I have so many to thank because without you none of this would be possible. Some of you may not realize what you give to authors … a chance. You take time away from your loved ones to read and then even more time to tell your fans how you felt. It’s appreciated and truly respected. I know the dedication, sacrifice, and time you spend. From the bottom of my heart thank you for taking the time to read and review!

  Heather Maven, thank you for your friendship, love, and always making me laugh. Everyday I am grateful for you in my life.

  To my friends and family, some of you didn’t know I was writing Beloved so if you’re reading this … surprise! Thank you to my mother who won’t ever read this but stood beside me every step of the way. You gave me life, then made sure I lived it to my fullest. I never felt unloved or unwanted because of you. My Aunt Donna, you took me to the zoo and made sure I had these memories. You taught me that just because I was hurting didn’t mean I had to be alone. I pray that every person in this world has someone like you, because you are one in a million.

  The SPQ, There are few people who mean more to me in this world than you. There are so many things you probably picked up on just for you. You stood beside me when I wasn’t sure. You pushed when I wanted to quit. You joked when I needed to laugh.

  To my beautiful children…Thank you for your daily dinner talks asking how much I wrote. You both are the reason I kept going when I wanted to cry some nights. I know it wasn’t easy when mommy was crazy glued to the computer and I love you both so much! To my son who tells everyone his mommy wrote a book even though I pray he’ll never read it. To my daughter who told me she was so proud of me for following my dream and would take the laptop and sit next to me and write her own story. You both are my beloved.

  I want to thank my husband for his undying love and support. You love the broken in me and have never given up. Our love has never been easy but it’s ours. We’ve gone through so much and still come out on top. Deployments, moves, kids, more deployments but you’ve always been my constant. Most of all, thank you for being my anchor in the storm. You’re it for me, babe.

  To my readers … Wow! The fact that I’m even sitting here writing to you is overwhelming. I had a dream as a little girl to write books, and because of you reading this right now it’s no longer a dream, but a reality. I don’t even know how to thank you because it’s surreal. For some reason you choose to pick this up and read. For that I’m eternally grateful. I know you have kindles filled with books to choose, and a never ending supply of books coming—so thank you.

  Please feel free to join my Facebook group to talk about Beloved. Plus keep up with news regarding the sequel.

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  Corinne Michaels is an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. She’s happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife. After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. Beloved is her first novel and is currently working on the second in the series.

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  Continue on to read a preview of Undone by R.E. Hunter available now.

  This can’t be happening. That thought ran on a constant loop through her head as she sat in the cold, uninviting classroom, the smell of antiseptic invading her nostrils. A shiver crept up her spine, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the temperature or her nerves. Maybe both. She sat on a hard plastic chair, hands gripped in her lap, her foot tapping furiously against the linoleum. The anticipation was killing her. She studied the three people at the front of the room, their heads bent together as they whispered amongst themselves.

  Her heart thumped in her chest, the dull thud echoing in her ears as she sat silently, waiting. Her head swam, and she struggled to keep herself afloat instead of drowning in the anxiety that threatened to pull her under. She strained forward, hoping to catch even a small piece of their hushed conversation, but all she could hear was the shallow murmur of their voices. She wanted to get it over with. Like a Band-Aid, it would hurt either way. Might as well make it quick. She’d had to pick up the pieces of her broken life and move on once before. But she couldn’t do it again, not after all of her hard work. She wouldn’t accept it, she couldn’t.

  How did this happen? They’d been careful. Hadn’t they been careful? She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried in vain to think of something, anything else.

  The older gentleman on the end cleared his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. “Miss Jacobs?”

  She looked up at the members of the university’s disciplinary committee, taking them in one at a time. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, hoping the outward display of confidence would give her some semblance of the same feeling on the inside. That was shot to hell as soon as she opened her mouth. “Y-yes, sir?” she answered, her voice trembling.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” the other man asked, his eyes kind.

  “No, sir.” She shook her head, but she was pretty sure she had an idea.

  “Let me tell you,” the older man interjected, opening the folder in front of him. He explained the purpose of the hearing and the university’s policies regarding disciplinary sanctions.

  She sat back, rubbing her palms on her pants and trying to calm down. As she listened to his words, she was hit with a rush of emotion so strong it almost bowled her over. Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Betrayal. Rage. Shock. Relief. Relief? She fought to keep focused on the seriousness of the situation before her as a litany of memories assaulted her consciousness.

  Four months earlier.

  “Look to your left… now look to your right. One of you won’t be here at the end of the year.”

  Those same words were repeated year after year at law school orientations around the country. Embry Jacobs fought to keep her composure as the dean continued his sad attempt to scare her out of the next three years at Whitman Law School. The old theater seats made her itch, and her long, blond hair stuck to the back of her neck, making her antsy.

  She leaned over to whisper to her best friend, “Seriously? I thought they stopped giving this speech years ago. Did the dean take this straight from The Paper Chase?”

  Morgan chuckled and elbowed Embry’s ribs. “Shhh, this is very important stuff, Bree.”

  Embry had read the books and watched the movies. She knew all about the scare tactics used on first-year law students. As cliché as the dean’s speech was, a good number of the students in that auditorium wouldn’t make it through the first semester, let alone all three years.

  Failing out wasn’t an option for her. Embry had one chance, and she had to make it count. All she’d ever wanted was to be a lawyer, and the only thing standing in her way was the next three years of school. Already in debt from her undergraduate degree, she was relying on a scholarship to get her through law school. If she didn’t keep her grades high enough to maintain the scholarship, she’d be forced to take out more loans. At least once she graduated, she’d be able to make enough money to pay them off. Embry was startled from her thoughts by a hard poke to her arm.

  “Bree, you coming?”

  Embry looked up to see Morgan waiting for her. Morgan Maxwell had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. She’d been through everything with Embry, and even though they’d lived far apart for the past five years, their friendship had never suffered. When Embry left home after high school without any warning or explanation, Morgan was the only person who knew why. The real reason. Even though Embry’s leaving put a strain on Morgan’s relationship with her
own parents, she stuck by Embry’s side, always supportive and never questioning. When they started applying to law schools at the same time, Morgan convinced Embry to finally come home so they could experience it together. Embry had never believed they would be so lucky to get accepted to Whitman together, so when she got her admission letter, she planned her move immediately.

  Morgan’s voice broke through her thoughts again. “Earth to Embry! Did you hear a word I just said?”

  “What? No, sorry,” she answered.

  “Where were you just now?” Morgan asked, tilting her head and shooting Embry a curious glance.

  “I was just thinking about being back home,” she said, shrugging.

  Morgan bounced up and down. “Oh my God, I know! Can you believe we’re really doing this? Morgan and Bree back together again! And in law school!” She grabbed Embry’s arm and pulled her up out of the seat. “Come on, I wanna catch the next campus tour.”

  Embry gave Morgan a big smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. “Okay, okay, let’s go.”

  The girls exited the auditorium into the bright summer sun. Embry rummaged around in her purse for her sunglasses, and her fingers brushed the hard edge of an envelope. She dragged Morgan to a stop.

  “Hey, I totally forgot I have to run to student services.” She pulled the envelope from her purse. “Something to do with my tuition. You okay to do the tour yourself?”

  Morgan huffed sarcastically then gave Embry a bright smile. “I’ll be fine. You know I make friends wherever I go!”

  Embry chuckled. “Okay, I’ll catch you later.”

  She made her way to the law school’s building and walked through the rear door. She hadn’t been through that entrance yet and found herself disoriented as she navigated the long, empty hallways. She turned a corner and stopped to take in her surroundings. She realized she had been walking in a circle about the same time something crashed into her, spinning her around. Before she could get her bearings, she felt a large, warm hand on her arm.