Losing Her

by Cori Williams

  Losing Her

  Cori Williams

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle WA 2015

  Copyright 2015 Cori Williams

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to: info@booktrope.com

  Cover Design by Chelsea Barnes

  Edited by Candice Barnes

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  Print ISBN 978-1-5137-0478-4

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0528-6

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015916834

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Other Works by Cori and Staying Connected

  More Great Reads from Booktrope

  Acknowledgments

  When I wrote Losing Her, it was a seriously chaotic time in my life and really, I have no idea how in the world I finished it. Its kind of a blur. My family recently moved from Michigan to North Carolina and for a while there, my husband and I were living in separate states with me taking care of our three kids by myself (with help from my mom, of course) So in a way, writing Losing Her, probably helped to keep my sanity!

  But anywho, back to the thank you part. I guess I should start first by thanking my mom and all she’s done to help us with our major move and help me to where I was able to finish this book! Oh, and of course my dad, he would be very upset if I didn’t mention him as well. He was helping out on the other end.

  As always, I’m so thankful for my husband because he’s the person who gave me that extra push to follow my dreams and he’s my biggest cheerleader. (He’s also my biggest eye roller when he sees my browsing history)

  A big thanks to my family and friends who support my writing, especially my mother in law who is an avid reader of all of my books. (which makes me blush just a little)

  And now I’m to Chelsea! This was the first project that I’ve gotten to work with her on from start to finish. (and is probably another reason why Losing Her got finished) I met Chelsea at a signing in Toronto and was just completely taken a back that she was excited to meet me! Meet me? Confusing, right? Her enthusiasm instantly made me want to be able to work with her in some capacity. And guess what? Probably a month later she signed on to be a book manager at Book Trope and it was like the stars collided. Thank you, thank you, thank you and many more to Chelsea for all of the hard work she puts in for her authors, me included, all of the thank you’s would never be enough.

  Up next, my editor Candice! She made Losing Her shiny and pretty. It was our first time working together and I would do it again in a heartbeat. It was fun to have a sister duo, their mom should be proud!

  Alright, betas…you’re up! I had a few betas on this project; Tobi, Kelly, and Angie. Your feedback was exactly what I needed and more. Losing Her was a little bit of a different project for me and I was a bit worried that I wouldn’t get things right or not have enough emotions or miss something. Your suggestions and feedback helped tremendously and I hope everyone loves this story as much as I do.

  And a big thanks to the readers and bloggers, who support me again and again, and those of you who just gave me a chance if this is your first book of mine! You’re what keeps me going in this indie world. It’s a tough place out there. It’s hard to keep going sometimes when you keep fighting to get to even the middle of the pack and you just keep getting pushed down to the bottom. No one likes to be on the bottom…well, most of the time.

  So, for now, I’m signing off. I’m sure I forgot to thank someone and I apologize, I’m a bit scatter brained ninety percent of the time but thank YOU!

  Prologue

  THE INSTANT I SAW HIM will forever be ingrained in my mind, because it was the second everything I once knew, changed forever. Change was sometimes good, sometimes bad, but inevitable nonetheless. Inevitable change.

  It was at a party—a party I didn’t want to go to, but a friend begged and pleaded with me. She didn’t want to go alone. For a long time, I thought it was a blessing in disguise; but soon found out it was anything but a blessing. Sometimes I would imagine the ‘what-ifs’ as I lay awake at night, staring at the blank ceiling, too afraid to fall asleep because of the man who laid asleep right next to me—what if I hadn’t gone to that party? What if I had just stayed home for the night, tucked in my bed with a book in my lap?

  What if.

  What if.

  What if.

  His smile was the first thing I noticed; his bright white teeth against his tan skin, the crinkles at his eyes when he smiled wide, tipping his head back slightly at something amusing one of the guys in the group said. Guys weren’t the only ones surrounding him, though. A gaggle of girls flitted about, vying for his attention; twirling their hair, batting their eyelashes, doing what dumb girls did to get attention. I hated those kinds of girls—desperate was the only word that came to mind to describe them. But right there in that moment, I wished I was one of those girls. Why couldn’t I be? Instead, I felt uncomfortable and awkward. I hardly ever talked to guys.

  My eyes swung away from him, clearing his dark eyes from my mind; the way that they twinkled when he laughed, and his tall, lean body that I was trying to imagine undressed. I picked at the label on my beer, but something forced me to look up, and when I did, he wasn’t looking at those other girls—He was looking at me, with this intense look that was so confusing and exciting at the same time, my body went into full overdrive as I twitched in place. My breathing increased to a pant, my heart thumping against my chest—smack, smack, smack.

  And that was all before he took one step in my direction.

  Somehow, I introduced myself when he asked me my name. Somehow, I made my body move to the music when he asked me to dance. And somehow, I said yes when he asked me out on a date.

  And that was the night I met my husband.

  * * *

  He bit his lip before those lips spread into a slow grin, his fingers dancing across my bare skin, leaving behind a fiery trail. I sighed as he parted my legs. “Can you believe we’re married now?”

  “No, not really.” I giggled, my breath catching when he pushed in one finger and then two. My eyes closed and my head tipped backwa
rds as he started a slow, torturous rhythm. This had to be a dream—one I didn’t want to wake up from. I was so blissfully happy, I couldn’t remember a day when I’d been happier.

  “I love you so much. You’re my family now.” His hands froze and I smiled softly, hating that he had no one. Now that he had me, I was going to make sure that I made up for his lack of family growing up. I would never understand how a mother could abandon her child, and I wasn’t even a mother myself, yet. He’d already started talking about kids, two days before we got married. I wasn’t so sure I was quite ready, though.

  A knock on the door interrupted us, and he pulled his fingers away as I covered myself up. A cart was pushed in with a bottle of champagne chilling, two glasses, and an array of fruits and desserts.

  “What’s all this for?” I asked, pushing to my knees. We were just staying at a local hotel after the quick ceremony earlier that day.

  “Open,” he demanded. I obeyed, opening my mouth so he could drop a plump strawberry into it. “It’s our honeymoon, baby. We might’ve not been able to actually get away right now with work and everything, but it’s still our honeymoon. We’re married now. You’re getting spoiled from here on out for the rest of our lives. This is only the beginning.”

  I believed every word he said. Why wouldn’t I?

  That was one of the good memories; but soon, those memories were forgotten, replaced by blackness and hate. Anger and despair. How did I let myself get into this situation? How did I not know the man that I married? I was married to a stranger. And I didn’t know what to do.

  * * *

  Four years had passed since that night. Three years since he slipped a ring on my finger. Two years since the first time he’d laid forceful hands on me. Had it really been two years that I’d endured this evil side of my husband that he had kept carefully hidden?

  Everything had been teetering on the edge before the night that it first happened–it was like I had sensed a change was coming. Life was too perfect to be real. I knew there was some sort of evil lurking around the corner, ready to destroy the piece of happiness I had finally found. However, I never thought that evil would take the form of my husband.

  Our romance was a whirlwind, and by the time I screwed my head on straight, we were married. The honeymoon that he promised only lasted for so long before things started to change. ‘Accidents’ started to happen, and then those accidents turned into drunken rages. Don’t ask me why I stayed, because I really don’t have an answer. Maybe I wished that it had all been a bad dream, that the man that I had fallen in love with was still lurking behind the monster he now was—that I could somehow save him.

  I had always been a pushover.

  Which was why I was sitting in the driveway of the home we shared, enveloped in the darkness of my car, afraid to enter my own home when what I really needed to do was storm in there like a raging bitch.

  Betrayal.

  Anger.

  Uncertainty.

  My best friend’s car was parked in the driveway. My husband was home. I was home early, unannounced. Did I want to go inside? What were they doing together? How long had this been going on? Did I care?

  I forced myself from the car, leaving my purse behind and fumbling with my keys as my feet crunched over the gravel, no matter how lightly I stepped. The door was slightly ajar and I pushed it open, wincing at the soundly groan, but no one seemed to notice. The living room was empty other than the moving boxes all stacked in a row, the kitchen empty as well. I bumped into the edge of the hallway table, wincing at the stinging pain but pushed myself forward, towards the faint sounds of moaning. I didn’t know if I was prepared to see what was on the other side of my bedroom door, the one that I shared with my husband—the one where my best friend currently was.

  What was going on? I felt like I was in some sick, twisted episode of the Twilight Zone. She would never do this….Him on the other hand, well, he was capable of a lot more than I ever thought. Would cheating be such a surprise? No. Not at all.

  I pushed the door open, and just as I did my best friend twirled around, her eyes widening, her mouth dropping in shock. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to,” she stuttered, throwing both shaking hands in the air. I squinted at her through the darkness. Her body was twisted around, my husband beneath her, but he didn’t make any move to get up—Not to apologize, to make up some stupid idiotic lie; nothing.

  I pressed back against the wall, sliding my hand upwards to flip on the switch. The room was basked in a soft glow as the overhead light came to life. It was then that my mouth dropped open. I think up until that point I was completely numb, all emotions turned off, as they had been for so long. They had to be at the mercy of his fists and hateful spew.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured again, pushing herself up onto wobbly legs, her hands still trembling and the object that she was holding in her left hand fell to the floor with a loud clank. My eyes dropped to what was unthawing my emotions and the reaction was a confused jumbled mess—Relief mixed with sadness, happiness mixed with panic. The crimson that painted the skin of her hands held so much meaning all at the same time.

  Red

  Red

  Red

  Everywhere

  “Is he dead?” I whispered.

  She took a step away from him and my eyes dropped down to my husband, his chest bare, a mess of blood splattered across it, but I couldn’t find the actual wound. The bloodied knife that she had dropped laid on the floor next to him while his eyes remained closed. His chest didn’t move up and down, no air coming from between his lips.

  I knew the answer before she even uttered a sound.

  “I’m so sorry,” she wailed. “I knew what he was doing to you. I saw the bruises and the black eyes that you tried to cover up. You shut me out whenever I tried to bring it up. I couldn’t keep letting him do it. I understand why you wouldn’t go to the police, you couldn’t. So I started flirting with him and then he wanted me to come over tonight. I knew what I had to do, to set you free. He never saw it coming.” She blew out an unsteady breath; it caught, turning into a sob.

  Her agony and pain was ripping me apart. She had done this for me? The thought that this gave a whole new meaning to best friend status flitted through my mind and a laugh bubbled in my throat, before a gurgled noise stamped it down and panic began to set in. This was real. This was my life. And her’s. This was all my fault. I had to be the strong one now, for her.

  “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I reassured her and myself. “We’re going to figure something out,” I murmured, raising a hand to my cheeks and dabbing at the wetness. I didn’t think I would ever cry over this man, but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. He was dead. “We need to get out of here.” I rushed towards the closet, pulling out a suitcase and flinging clothes inside. “I’ve been setting some money aside, thinking that I could leave one day. I knew it probably wouldn’t be possible, he would find me; but now, now we can use it. We have to.”

  “Okay, okay,” she bobbed her head in agreement.

  We walked hand in hand out of the bedroom I had shared with my husband, his lifeless body sprawled across the floor, closing the door behind us, effectively locking away all of the bad memories that came along with him.

  Now, if only keeping the past in the past was so easy.

  Chapter 1

  Lawson

  MY HEAD ROLLED BACK and I groaned. This girl was working her magic on my dick and I was beyond happy that I had chosen her out of the crowd. I opened my eyes when her mouth slid off and she licked at her lips, looking up expectantly at me. I’d seen that look plenty of times, but I couldn’t be swayed, unless I was drunk. Even then, I never let myself get sloppy, you could never be too careful in this business. Everyone was out to get something. “Nothing else is happening tonight, sweetheart. Do you wanna finish the job or not? I’m sure there’s a line out the door that I could pick from.”

  She stuck out her bottom lip. “But—”


  “Enough talkin’. What’s it gonna be?”

  I stroked my hard on, reminding her of where she was supposed to be and a slow smile pushed her lips upwards and then those lips were once again wrapped around me. “There, that’s more like it,” I pushed on her head, pressing myself to the back of her throat until she gagged, and then I got lost.

  This was exactly what I needed.

  The guys had been teasing the shit out of me for not hooking up with anyone lately. I couldn’t give two shits about what they said or thought, but tonight, I needed an escape. Living on the road for two months straight could get to just about anyone. I was lonely, plain and simple. So when I saw the girl who was currently going to town on my dick from the stage earlier tonight, I decided I needed some company. I wasn’t stupid. If it ever came to sex, protection was always used. I didn’t need any fuckups. You wouldn’t believe the amount of girls that were after you once you hit stardom. I tried to stay out of the limelight since I just strummed on the guitar, but people didn’t seem to let me stay there.

  After performing together since junior high, the original founders of the band–brothers Colton and Riley Jensen—had been signed by a label straight out of high school, but with one requirement—They were told they needed to add a third member. Somehow, they found me. And that’s how Jensen Outlaws was born. The label didn’t know what they were getting themselves into with the three of us together.

  To say we all went a little crazy, was an understatement. The pressure to perform and be the best was intense, we needed an outlet. I saw what Colton went through being the lead singer, the guy couldn’t do shit without it being known. Riley, his brother, got a bit jealous sometimes; and me, well I attempted to take a back seat.

  The media ate up our story, two of whom lost their dad overseas and did everything in their power to take care of their mom and five other siblings. Riley and Colton were pretty amazing and their story was one made for the movies. I’d had it a lot easier—My parents were married and supportive, and I was an only child, so I didn’t really want for much. My guitar had always been in my hands. I wasn’t much of a singer but when I had to step up to the microphone, Colt and Riley were loud enough to drown me out for the most part.