by Amy Durham
Dusk
by
Amy Durham
Dusk
Copyright © 2014 Amy Durham
Published By Amy Durham
ISBN: 978-0-9850706-5-6
Kindle Edition
Cover by:
Amy Durham and Debi Warford (www.debiwarford.com)
Contact Information: [email protected]
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
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. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Other Books by Amy Durham
Once Again (Sky Cove Series #1)
Once And For All (Sky Cove Series #2)
Dedication
In honor and memory of my grandfather, Adrian Pierson, one of the greatest men I’ve ever known. He’d have gotten such a kick out of his granddaughter being a published author. If the Adrian in this book seems too good to be true, it’s because the Adrian in my life was truly that good.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Amy Durham
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
A Note From the Author
About the Author
Coming Soon
Connect with Amy on Substance B
Acknowledgements
I’m always extremely grateful for the wonderful group of writers I’m privileged to be a part of. The authors of the Kentucky Independent Writers group provide tremendous encouragement, inspiration, and camaraderie that I never take for granted. Teresa Reasor and Dawn Laurent-Bourgeious, I cannot thank you enough for the time you invested to read and edit this book. Your input was invaluable and helped me make this story even better. To the ladies of my street team – JeNie, Deanna, Amy, Dawn, Stephanie, Judy, Deana, Anna, and Laura – thank you for believing in me enough that you’re willing to tell others about my books. As always, I must thank my husband and my boys for being a constant source of love and entertainment, and for bearing with me as I huddled in my office for days finishing this book. To my dad for his careful editing, and my mom for being my biggest fan, I say a deep thank you. And to you, my readers, thank you for being a part of my dream come true.
Chapter 1
The buzz of cheap vodka sang through my body, numbing my stupid reality into complete nothingness. Break-neck speed and three liquored up teenagers probably wasn’t the best combination, but none of us cared.
The crowded, city lights of Lexington flickered in the distance behind us, and the sparse lights of Rison, the sleepy Kentucky town where I’d lived my whole life, got closer as Nikki pushed the car way past the speed limit.
“Zoe, don’t puke in my car again.” Nikki laughed in that slurred, drunken-stupor sort of way, as she turned from the steering wheel to point at me. “If you do you’re cleaning it up this time.”
Yes, I’d proven myself unable to hold my liquor the last time the three of us had done this. Such a proud moment, for sure. In the front passenger seat, Courtney laughed so hard I thought she’d be the one to hurl.
God, this numbness was bliss. The burn of the alcohol seared away all the crappy parts of my life. Family drama, guilt, uncertainty – all of it – gone. At least that’s what I wanted to believe.
It was just after midnight, and the humidity of early August was no better even in the dark. With the windows down, wind rushed around me as I leaned against the backseat, carrying with it the grassy smell of the country. Watching the vast lengths of horse-farm pasture whiz past, I should’ve been scared, since the roller-coaster speeds couldn’t possibly be safe, but being drunk sort of drowns out rationalities such as fear and precautions.
We hadn’t seen a car for several miles.
Until the cop car popped into view on the hill in front of us, and Nikki had to jerk the wheel and swerve out of his lane to avoid hitting him. As the cruiser passed us, Courtney and I turned to look out the back window just in time to see the blue lights come on.
“Shit!” Nikki said. “Hang on!”
My shoulder slammed hard into the back door as Nikki made a split-second right turn onto a side road. Barreling down the winding lane, houses and barns sporadically appeared and disappeared as she sped on. I craned my neck around and saw the police lights nearing the turnoff we’d taken, and without slowing, Nikki switched off her lights, plunging us into blackness. This far from the city, the sky sparkled with bright stars. It would’ve been pretty… under normal circumstances.
Nikki made the next two curves without trouble, but a hairpin left turn was not so kind. She slammed the brakes and the car fishtailed, throwing me all over the backseat, my other shoulder colliding with the driver-side door. It hurt like a bitch, but I was too busy fighting to keep the ocean of liquor in my stomach from swimming upstream to pay much attention to the pain.
But before I had the chance to grace Nikki’s backseat with the contents of my stomach, the fishtailing ended as we plowed into something – a tree, a ditch, a utility pole – and this time my head smashed against the door. Digging my fingers into the leather upholstery, I tried without success to steady myself.
The crunch of crashing metal was deafening as pain exploded in my head, fireworks went off behind my eyelids, and I slid to the floorboard.
Police sirens sounded in the distance, coming closer. I knew that the approaching cop was not a good thing, but the haze in my head refused to let me remember why. Blinking, I tried to get clear of the mental fog and sit up, but instead just collapsed on the floorboard of the car again. Nikki and Courtney moaned in the front seat, and Nikki fumbled uselessly with the driver’s door. Something inside me said I should get out and run, but why
?
The sirens grew louder and louder until I was sure the police car had to be right beside us. Out of nowhere, arms came around me. Strong arms. Warm arms. Curling against him, I gave myself over to the safety and security that enveloped me, close and tender, like an old blanket.
And then it was as if I was floating, flying even. Was I dreaming? Had I left my body? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The breeze kissed my skin with a velvety touch, and the strength of his body radiated into mine. Sleep eased toward me, and I welcomed it with the assurance that I was safe and protected.
Chapter 2
A sledgehammer pounded away at my head and my tongue seemed hot-glued to the roof of my mouth. When I shifted positions, the rustle of sheets and the cushy pillow beneath my head told me I was in my bed. But even the soft sheets and pillow couldn’t dim the general, achy crud I felt all over my body. Geez, even my pinkies hurt.
I could tell without looking that I was still in my shorts and tank top. I’d slept in my clothes. Fantastic. I must’ve been completely wasted when I got home. I started to shake my head in disgust of my own behavior, but thought better of it when the sledgehammer started up again.
The slight movement made my stomach swim, and the entire night came rushing back. Bored, alone, and depressed at home. The phone call from Nikki and Courtney. The liquor none of us were old enough to drink.
God, the liquor. I’d lived seventeen years without getting smashed, but this summer I’d fixed that. After last night I could go the rest of my life without experiencing it again.
With startling clarity I recalled the police car and Nikki’s furious attempt to out run him. She’d crashed her car. I remembered that part as the side of my head screamed in pain. Surely he’d caught up to us after that, but I had no memory of it.
How did I get home? How did I end up in my bed?
Oh lord, had the cop called my mom? Or worse yet, driven me home in the police car? This was going to suck royally. Mom was already pissed at me for my previous transgressions, all of which involved Nikki, Courtney, and alcohol. Now she’d be totally livid. I might never get my car keys back.
I tried opening my eyes. It was possible my brain would explode once my lids lifted, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. At least my head wouldn’t hurt anymore.
A gray haze filled my vision, and I was quite sure it was a result of the hangover and not actual fog in my bedroom. The tiny slits in my eyelids let in faint illumination, like those dim-lighted moments before the sun actually came out. Gradually, my room came into focus… the iPod dock on my dresser, the pile of laundry in the floor, the cute, dark-haired boy on my lavender beanbag.
Cute boy? Good grief, I must still be drunk if I was hallucinating a hottie.
I blinked, not without effort and pain, clearing away some of the haze, and sure enough, my beanbag was empty. My heart fell. I was kind of disappointed. If I’d been non-hangover-burdened, I might’ve stuck my bottom lip out.
Resigned to my aloneness, I closed my eyes and decided more sleep would be a good idea. Maybe the hangover would clear up a bit. I’d need the rest later when I had to face my mom.
* * *
I heard my mom come in my room some time afterward. I pretended to still be asleep, hoping she’d go on to work and I could put this confrontation off until later, when hopefully my head wouldn’t feel like a giant bowling ball crashing into enormous bowling pins. But, no such luck.
She sat down on the bed, the mattress dipping only slightly under her weight. I felt her brush my hair off my forehead, the gesture protective and maternal. A lump formed in my throat. Why was she being gentle with me after what I pulled last night? However tender she behaved with me, I was quite sure my punishment would be anything but.
“Zoe,” she whispered. “We need to talk before I go to work.”
I opened my eyes, taking my time just in case the light decided to burn my retinas. Thankfully the headache seemed to have eased enough that I could tolerate the minimal illumination in the room. Looking up at my mom, I had no idea what to say.
“I came in your room last night,” she began, keeping her voice soft and low. “Well, technically it was this morning. You were home by one o’clock, already in bed. After they way you snuck out, I was kind of surprised.”
Confusion swirled in my brain. Somehow I’d gotten home and in my bed by one in the morning. And Mom didn’t sound mad, so I must not have come home in a police car. Which still begged the question – how had I gotten home?
My temples throbbed and I decided I’d worry about how I’d gotten home later. Heavy consideration was sure to bring my headache roaring back full force.
Still, I said nothing to Mom.
“But Zoe, you were practically passed out and you reeked of alcohol.” She sounded more disappointed than anything. And that tone of voice was worse than being yelled at.
I unglued my tongue from the roof of my mouth and managed to eek out a ratchety-sounding “Sorry”.
“Baby, I know you’re hurting, and I know you’re just acting out. I know this is all a result of what happened with your father. I want to help you, but I don’t know what to do to reach you. I’m at my wits end, Zoe.”
If I’d somehow gotten out of that car last night and escaped having to face the cops, I was taking that as the mother of all wake-up calls. No more Nikki and Courtney and alcohol binges.
Good God, had I walked all the way home? Thoughts of what could’ve happened as I’d meandered home, drunk off my ass, were enough to make my stomach turn even without the hangover.
“Won’t happen again,” I whispered. Hopefully she knew I meant it, because I didn’t have the energy or brain function to explain it further. And there was the fact that I couldn’t really tell her about the car wreck and my big epiphany without incriminating myself in the process.
“Well, that’s a change of attitude,” she said. “You’ve been completely unapologetic about your behavior all summer.”
“I mean it,” I said. “No more.”
Mom nodded. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Thanks.” I managed a half smile.
“Nikki and Courtney were arrested last night. Nikki was driving drunk and crashed her car. She and Courtney weren’t seriously hurt, but it could’ve been much worse. There was marijuana in the car too.”
Holy crap. I hadn’t smoked any weed, but only because I had no idea they’d had it. If not for the police chase and car wreck, I probably would’ve lit up before the night was over.
“Nikki’s mom called me because she thought you might’ve been with them,” Mom said. “You don’t know how relieved I was to find you here.”
Yeah, if you only knew.
I closed my eyes. This conversation was not helping my hangover. The mystery of how I’d ended up at home in bed while Nikki and Courtney were getting arrested was enough to create a headache under normal circumstances.
“I’ve got to go to work, but I’ve left a glass of water and some ibuprofen on your nightstand. Take a couple and drink the water, when you feel up to it.”
I nodded, eyes still shut.
“I’ll check back in at lunch.” I felt the mattress shift as she stood up. “I believe you about not drinking anymore, but I hope you’ll understand that I’m going to have to keep your car keys for a bit longer.”
Yeah, I figured that was coming. And honestly, I was going nowhere in the near future anyway. Unless it was to worship the porcelain goddess.
“You should call Vivian,” she added just before she left the room. “She’s been a good friend to you, and I’m sure she’ll understand why you’ve been so distant this summer.”
And didn’t that lay the guilt on even thicker?
I listened for her car to crank and pull out of the driveway then forced myself to sit up. I managed to make it without falling over, and even more amazing, I managed to maneuver the childproof lid off the medicine bottle. I downed three ibuprofen and half the gla
ss of water, then burrowed back under the covers.
Glancing at my beanbag, I half hoped to find my dark-headed guy again. Of course, he was not there. Just as well. If I’d been drunk enough to bring home some random guy I’d be in way more trouble than I already was. Dad would’ve freaked out to find a guy in my bedroom.
And just like that, the ache returned and settled like a ton of concrete on my chest. Dad couldn’t freak out anymore, because he was dead. And the truth was, after everything that had happened before he died, I wouldn’t have listened to him anyway.
Simultaneous guilt and grief was a nasty combination.
Chapter 3
A week later school started. I still had no car keys, so Mom dropped me off. I’d kept my promise and had not touched another drop of alcohol. Of course, it did help that Nikki and Courtney were dealing with their own drama after getting arrested and were probably in no condition to call me up and offer to provide the stuff.
Thanks to some state funding that came our way three years ago, the new Rison High School was a far cry from the Jurassic era school building where I’d spent my freshman year. In small-town Kentucky, it wasn’t exactly state-of-the-art, but the place looked tons better than the drab gray of the previous institutional structure, and even now it still had that new school smell.
The normal summer catch-up talk filled the building, but I heard nothing about Nikki and Courtney’s time in the county lock-up. I figured they wanted to keep that quiet. But in typical high school fashion, there was no shortage of other stuff to gossip about. Apparently, Heather Mossman, a junior, was pregnant. Great. Another statistic. Also according to the talk in the hallways, Tim Fowler and Cody Walsh had gotten into a huge fight at the county fair, which resulted in the police being called and assault charges being filed. Apparently one had keyed the other’s truck over a girl.