Lost
Avalon
By K.S. Thomas
Copyright © 2014 - by Karina Gioertz.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the consent of the author, except where permitted by law.
Lost Avalon is a work of fiction. All characters and subject matter are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, alive of dead, is entirely coincidental.
COVER BY SOLOUD!MEDIA ~ www.soloudmedia.de
EDITING BY WENDY SMITH
“Come Back To Me”
ORIGINAL SONG AND LYRICS BY BRANDON MARRS
https://soundcloud.com/brandon-marrs-1
http://www.reverbnation.com/brandonmarrs/song/21413058-come-back-to-me
First and foremost I have to say thanks to Clare and all the others over at RIAM. I decided on a whim to join the group and participate in the challenge of writing a romance in a month, and I’m so glad I did because I had a blast. Oh, and I wrote this book – BONUS!
Running a close second (and nearly tied for first) for my unwavering appreciation are Avalon’s awesome Betas ~ Alyssa, Stephanie, J.C., Debbie, Nancy and Tawnya! Thank you all!!
As always, I owe an ocean of gratitude to those I love and am lucky to be loved by
Your support means more to me than you will ever know
Last, but certainly no least, I would like to thank YOU! Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoy Blaise and Ava’s journey as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
For Harry.
(Totally kidding.)
Chapter 1
Somewhere in the black abyss that surrounded me, I heard my phone ringing.
“Hello?”
Silence. I sat up and blinked several times trying to wake up and adjust my eyes to the darkness.
“Is anyone there?”
I heard someone swear under their breath.
Then, “Ava? I’m lost. I need you to come and find me.”
Automatically my eyes swept the room until they caught on the bright red numerals of the standard hotel alarm clock.
“Shit, Blaise. It’s fucking four o’clock in the morning.” I was already peeling back the warmth of my comforter and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. This was so typical. “What are you looking at right now?”
“Um, there’s a big green stripe on the wall. It’s really fucking ugly.” He was doing his wheezy drunk laugh, the one I hated. On the plus side, at least I knew he was in the building. The halls of the hotel were lined with a thick olive colored band over a shimmering champagne. It was tacky as hell and reeked of expensive, but then those were the types of places we were staying in these days.
“Are there any doors around? Any numbers on the walls?” I was busy pulling on a pair of sweats more suitable for roaming the hotel at night than the boxer shorts I was wearing.
“No, no numbers.” Then he groaned loudly and I heard the distinct sound of rushing liquids.
“Are you taking a piss right now?!” I slid out of my sweats again. I knew exactly where he was.
“No.” Then the undeniable sound of a zipper followed.
“Just don’t move. I’ll be right there.” I was already making my way through the penthouse suite we were staying in and headed straight for the doors. When I pulled them open, there was Blaise looking all kinds of busted and standing right beside one of the two extremely large flower pots placed on each side of the double doors.
I glanced up at the security cameras and gave an apologetic smile before turning my attention back onto Blaise.
“You’re pathetic,” I grumbled as I held the door open and stepped aside for him to stumble in.
“You’re amazing.” He grinned sheepishly as he went by.
“Too bad you won’t remember that in the morning.” I sighed. “Come on. You need a shower. You smell like a fucking whorehouse.”
I took Blaise’s hand and started to lead the way to the bathroom. Considering he’d been standing right outside of the suite and had been unable to find it, it was highly unlikely he’d be able to locate the shower if left to his own devices.
“Careful,” I hissed, snatching away the floor lamp he had randomly selected to use as a walking stick on his way through the living room. “Keep it up and you’ll wake the guys.” After all, the penthouse suite had been booked for the entire band. Not just the lead singer.
It had all started in my garage seven years ago. This was after nearly three years of my pushing Blaise to bring his crazy brilliant talent out of hiding. When he finally did, he found three guys to do it with. Derek Sills on the guitar, Royce Lemmi on Bass and Angel Hollis on Drums. Together they made up what was now known worldwide as Finding Nolan.
The name was laughable really since it was a running joke that Blaise was always missing. Back in high school he’d get lost in thought and wander off track somewhere and wind up sitting on some bus stop bench with no recollection of having walked there. These days it was mostly due to alcohol. Either way, it seemed that as long as I could remember, I had been stuck with the task of finding Nolan. Blaise Nolan that is. People had been finding the band all on their own ever since word of their music started making the rounds back in our junior year.
Nights like tonight I wondered if fame had really been a good thing for Blaise. Music, sure. Music was a part of him, the best part probably, but celebrity and success had proven more challenging than I’d expected. Maybe because I’d foolishly believed that a future worth looking toward would keep Blaise from always facing back. I’d been wrong. If anything, his past seemed to haunt him more the closer he got to getting everything he’d ever wanted.
“Stop that.” This time he was holding a glass candle holder up to his mouth like a trumpet. I caught him just before he was about to blow. “Hands in your pockets, now!”
“I’d rather put them in your pockets.” He leered at me, his eyes dropping down to my ass.
“You’re shit out of luck. I don’t have any.” I shook my head in disgust. Booze brought out the worst in him.
“No problem.” Before I knew what was happening, I could feel his cold clammy hands slide into the back of my pants.
“What the fuck, Blaise?” I spun around and shoved him hard in the chest. He lost his balance and went tumbling over the edge of the couch, over the cushions and then rolled onto the floor where his face made impact with the coffee table and brought him to a stop.
“Shit, Avalon. I think I’m bleeding.” He was cupping his left eyebrow with his hand.
Fucking fantastic.
“Come on.” I reached for his free arm and started dragging him to his feet. It was a fucking miracle Royce hadn’t woken up yet. He slept about as soundly as a fireman on duty.
Then, finally, we were in the master bedroom with the door shut behind us. I gently moved his hand to check his eye. He automatically went to put it back and I slapped it out of the way. “Le
t me take a look at it, you big baby.”
He frowned, but stopped moving long enough for me to see that it was a minor scrape.
“You’ll live. Now then, let’s get you hosed down.” I pointed toward the attached bath. It had a huge walk-in shower with multiple massaging shower heads I’d been looking forward to exploring. Only I had hoped it would be under very different circumstances.
Blaise tripped his way through the doorway, gradually stripping out of his clothes as he went. The pants came off easy enough, but his shirt wound up stuck around his head. He looked like a four year old still learning to undress himself.
“Hang on,” I grumbled as I went to yank the impromptu blindfold off of his head. I’d seen him naked about a million times, so it wasn’t the sight of his bare ass that struck me when he turned around to step into the shower. It was the long, bloody scratches trailing down his back.
“Have a good time tonight?” I asked dryly as I reached in to start the shower for him.
“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed as he let the hot water run over him.
Now that he was standing still, I also noticed several red marks on his chest. Teeth marks. Why the hell he always sought out women who drew blood for pleasure, I’d never understand. It was an even bigger miracle that the frequent checkups he required due to his non-stop extracurricular activities, continued to come back clean. Apparently even in the midst of a drunken stupor, Blaise always remembered to strap on a condom.
Tired and wasted, his remaining energy was draining fast and he was already resting the back of his head along the tile to keep him steady.
I quickly pulled off my own t-shirt and climbed into the shower still wearing my bra and boxers. The steam and water made the materials cling to my skin almost instantly, a feeling I didn’t particularly care for.
“Hold out your hands.”
He followed orders and I squirted a huge dose of shower gel into both of them. “Alright, now wash. Start at the top.” At least that way, even if he wasn’t thorough, the soapy water would travel down and wash the rest of him by default.
While he busied himself with running his hands in small circles over his chest over and over again, I reached for the shampoo. His hair always smelled the worst after nights like these. The stale smoke from the bars, mixed with whatever rancid perfume his groupie of the night was drenched in and the traces of liquor combed into his hair via his fingers, made for a wretched combination.
I massaged his scalp and dark brown hair thoroughly, all the while checking repeatedly to make sure he was still awake. Then, after the final rinse off, we were done at last.
With a towel draped around his hips, I walked Blaise over to the king sized bed and laid him down on top of the covers. He’d get hot in two seconds flat and kick them off anyway if I bothered tucking him in. Blaise was asleep before he even hit the pillow.
I kissed the top of his head, which once again smelled like only him, and proceeded to tiptoe from the room. I had barely taken two steps when I felt his hand clasp my wrist.
“Stay,” he whispered. “Please, Ava.”
I looked down at my wet shorts and soaked bra and exhaled loudly. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
He scooted himself backward, making room for me. I reached into his suitcase closest to the bed and pulled out the first T-shirt I could find, slipped it over my head and then shimmied out of my wet bra and boxers. The wet panties I’d just have to live with.
I settled onto the bed beside him while he wrapped both arms around me tightly like I was his security blanky. Which, essentially, was exactly what I was to Blaise.
I took a deep breath of surrender and reached up to softly stroke his hair the way I knew he liked it. Then I watched as he fell into the same restless sleep that plagued him night after night.
Between both of our addictions, neither one of us ever seemed to be at peace anymore. The only question was, which one of us would get sober first? And how would the other survive when we did?
***
Ava. God she smelled good. Why didn’t all women smell like this? Melissa definitely had not smelled like this. Or had it been Melanie? Shit. Who fucking knew? I could barely remember what her face looked like, much less her name. But I definitely hadn’t forgotten the stench of her perfume or the cigarettes. Why did they all fucking smoke anyway?
None of that had mattered though. It never mattered. Not until after. Not until Ava showed up to clean me up again. One of these days she wouldn’t show and I knew it. Maybe that’s what I was waiting for. Maybe that’s why I was doing it.
Chapter 2
When I woke up the sun was already spilling in through the small slits in between the heavy hotel curtains. Blaise was still passed the fuck out and I wasn’t about to do anything to change that. As carefully as I could, I slunk out from under his arm and in one fluid motion, found myself crouching beside the bed.
I sat completely still for several long moments, waiting to see if Blaise would begin to stir, but he remained motionless on the mattress. Certain that it was safe to do so without getting caught and possibly reeled back into his bed, I crept across the room and quietly opened the door just wide enough for me to slither through.
I was so preoccupied with trying to make a soundless exit, I didn’t even notice Royce standing in the kitchen, watching.
“Does it count as a walk of shame when you’re only going down the hall?”
My head shot up at the sound of his voice. “Shut it. It’s not what it looks like.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah?”
I watched as his smug expression disappeared behind a large mug.
“Is that coffee?” I’m sure my eyes lit up just saying the word. Coffee. Mmm. There were few things in life that brought me more joy than coffee. It’s sad, I know. But nights like the one I’d had, were a dime a dozen in my world and coffee was my rock, my life source, my happy place.
Royce tipped his head to the side toward the machine in the corner of the kitchen. “Just brewed it. Carmel blend, the one you like.”
“Oh my GOD, you don’t know how happy that makes me.” I clenched my jaws together in a creepy teeth bearing smile from the excitement and flapped my hands up and down as I ran to the kitchen to fix myself a big fat cup of it. If I’d had the energy, I probably would have broken into a full on happy dance, as it was, it would have to wait until after the caffeine set in.
“Seriously though, why were you sneaking out of Blaise’s room? Everything okay?”
“Oh yeah,” I nodded dismissively, “Totally fine. We were just hanging out after he got back late from partying and I guess we both just crashed at some point. Anyway, didn’t want to wake him. You guys have a show tonight and we all want Blaise well rested for that.”
Royce studied me a second longer than necessary for someone who was just taking my story at face value, but he didn’t question me any further.
“So, nobody else up yet?” I took a sip and hoped he would just follow along as I took the conversation off course. He did.
“Angel’s working out and Derek is outside on the terrace talking to Sammy.” Derek’s wife. Out of the group, he was the only one who had seen the value in settling down even as thousands of women were throwing themselves at him.
“Gotcha. You guys order breakfast yet?”
He shook his head. “Don’t think anyone’s gotten around to it.”
I smiled, grateful for something to focus on. The small talk with Royce was running thin and thoughts of the night before were already bounding in, begging to be overanalyzed in ways I simply didn’t have the drive to do yet.
“In the mood for anything in particular?” I reached for the menu and began to scan our options. I knew Blaise would probably wake up craving something fried and carby which naturally made me want to order poached egg whites and fruit. I was going to need Royce to help tip the scale.
“Is it weird that I’m craving biscuits and gravy?”
I made a face. “A little. Sau
sage is gross.” But Blaise hated it too, so I was willing to work with it.
“I think Derek mentioned something about wishing Sammy was here to make him waffles…and you know all Angel is going to eat is meat.”
“Dude, you are so not helping, my friend.” I shook my head as I reached for the phone on the counter and called for room service.
“Good morning. We’d love to order some breakfast, please. We’re up in the penthouse. Names are Finding Nemo,” my idea of a joke, “and Excalibur,” and Blaise’s. “Awesome, okay, I think we’re going to do this platter style since we’re not a very decisive group. Sorry. Let’s have some biscuits and gravy, waffles, poached eggs, u-huh, with hollandaise – oh do you do any kind of like a breakfast quinoa dish? Definitely some of that then! Let’s see…oh right, meat….no, just straight meat. Whatever you’ve got, oh, actually let’s go with just ham and sausage. Well that should definitely be more than enough…oh wait, can I add some sort of fruit? Just seems like we should at least look like we’re eating healthy. Great. Yes, that will be perfect. Thank you.”
Royce was looking at me like I was crazy. “How many people are you expecting for breakfast?”
“Oh please, I’ve seen how you boys eat. It’s a fucking miracle you guys look the way you do. Any normal human being would not be walking around with rock hard abs after consuming your diet. Of course, I blame it on all of your extracurricular activities. I hear you can burn a shit-ton of calories during sex. ”
“I notice your abs are fine.”
I smirked, “Well duh, how do you think I came to my conclusion?!”
Royce snorted. “So is that what you were doing in Blaise’s room? Burning calories?”
“No, you ass. I have a boyfriend, remember?” One I hadn’t actually spoken to in nearly three days and on occasion forgot about myself. Not that I’d ever admit that to Royce.
Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel Page 1