Copyright © Tracie Redmond 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Tracie Redmond, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
1st Edition Published: July 2015
Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli and Missy Borucki
Cover Design by: IndieVention Designs
Formatting by: IndieVention Designs
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This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are adults over the age of 18.
All characters are fictional. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
Dedication
I dedicate this book in memory of my mom, Donna Janosky.
When I had to say goodbye, I had to say goodbye not only to my mother, but to my best friend.
She is my “Ellie.” She was my rock and I love and miss her every day.
I never realized how much crap one person accumulates. I mean, seriously, I am standing in my tiny apartment surrounded by fifty boxes full of crap. I absolutely hate moving, not that I have moved that much. Only once, really, and that was to attend college four years ago. Yet, now that I have graduated, I am ready to start my life.
“You have so much stuff, Sam. Where the hell did it all come from?” my friend Gabby yells, as she is trying to rummage through my closet. I know what she is doing, she was supposed to help me pack and label but she hasn’t moved from that closet and she keeps pulling clothes out telling me that I don’t have to take them. Yep, her pile is growing and she hasn’t packed one box yet.
“Gabby, get your ass out of my closet and start taping some boxes for me. I have to have all of this packed and loaded in the next two days.” I hear her sigh, but I also hear the tape and movement of boxes. Thank goodness.
“I don’t know why you’re moving across the country, Sam; you didn’t even land a permanent job in Philadelphia yet. Why not just stay here in the beautiful state of California? You’re not even going to know anyone on the East Coast.”
“I’m moving to be closer to Camaron, you know that, and I do have a job at Camaron’s shop.”
“Yeah, as the bookkeeper. Come on, Sam, you didn’t bust your ass to go through four years of college to move across country to be a freaking bookkeeper!”
Gabby is getting emotional, I can hear it in her voice. She has been my friend for the last four years. She truly is a sweet soul and I know she doesn’t want me to move, but this has always been the plan.
Camaron and I have been friends since elementary school. I met him the first day of second grade. Some mean girls were picking on me, pulling my hair and throwing dirt at me and Camaron came to my rescue. A big fourth grader coming in and protecting me. From that day on, my loyalty and heart belonged to Camaron Willis. During recess, he would go up behind the slides and pull out a tablet and draw. I didn’t think he would want a second grader hanging around, but he always let me stay. We would be “friends forever,” he would say, and we have from that day on.
Even when we started high school and we found ourselves in two different cliques, nothing broke us. I became the “nerd” and Camaron became the “freak.” I joined the math club and the debate team, while Camaron dyed his blonde hair black and started to pierce and tattoo his body. Looking at us you would think we had nothing in common, but looks could be deceiving. No one could understand the weird connection that we have, saying everything to each other with just one look. When I was a sophomore and Cam a senior, we made our plan. He was going to graduate that year and get his Associates Degree in art at the local community college, while I continued school. Then I would go to college and get a degree in journalism. We would move to the city and he would open his own studio and I would become a famous author. When I graduated, I chose not to attend the local university, and went two hours away to USC.
That was a big change since Camaron and I never spent time apart. It was different, being all alone and having to meet new people; yet, the bond Cam and I have, didn't diminish. We talked multiple times a day and saw each other whenever I was able to head home on weekends. It wasn’t that lonely, especially when I finally became friends with Gabby. While I was away, Camaron actually did an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor. He shadowed Rags the owner and learned the art of tattooing. He was determined to be the best; his dream of opening a studio, turned into opening a tattoo parlor. He is an incredible artist and became one of the best tattoo artists in our area.
Yet, he wanted bigger and better and staying here in California, was not in the cards. I remember the day he broke the news to me. He drove down and surprised me that morning. I knew something was up because it was Saturday and there is no way Camaron would be up and visiting me before ten. When I opened the door I knew, by looking at his face, that something was wrong.
“Hey, Cam, are pigs flying? What’s going on? Why are you here before ten am?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “I wanted to see my anchor, I’ve missed you,” he said before giving a slight pause. “We need to talk.”
Yeah, something was up. He was using his nickname for me: his Anchor—that’s— what he calls me. I am the “only constant in his life” he says. He never opens up to anyone——no one has gotten through the walls he built, except me.
“Okay, Camaron, what’s up? You have me nervous here.”
We walked into my apartment. I notice he truly looks like he is going to be sick, as he is pacing back and forth, just mumbling.
“Camaron Willis! You better tell me what the hell is going on before I come over there and kick your ass.”
“Yeah, as if you kick my ass. I would love to see that,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to chip a nail or get a hair out of place in your perfect bun, Sam,” he smirked. “Okay, sit down, I want to talk to you and I need to say this as fast as possible.”
My heart stopped. What could be this important? It’s a girl. He found someone and now he is here telling me that he is getting married or worse he is having a baby—he is having a baby with someone else. Ugh, why didn't I ever tell him! Why didn’t I ever let him know that he owns my heart and soul? Dear goodness, I think I am going to be sick!
“So, what, did you find the love of your life and now you’re having a baby and getting married?”
Oh my, I can’t believe I just asked that. What is wrong with me?
“Sam, you are hysterical, aren’t you. Come, sit down, please. You know I'm never getting married and you are the only woman in my life that counts. You’re my anchor, babe.”
Thank goodness he laughs at my reaction. I sit down and look at him—he still looks nervous.
“Okay, Sam, there has been a small change to our plans. Remember we said that we were moving to the city after you graduate, and live our dreams?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“That’s still the plan, but the city and time frame has changed.”
“What do you mean the tim
e frame and what city are we going to?”
“Well, that’s the thing. Instead of moving to San Diego, when you graduate, you’ll be moving to Philadelphia, with me. I’m moving there . . . today.”
“What! What the hell, Camaron? What do you mean you’re moving to Philadelphia? Like, Philadelphia on the East Coast? TODAY! I don't understand what you’re saying!”
My heart is breaking here. I can’t stop the tears that are falling from my eyes. It’s not a girl and it’s not a baby, it is much worse--Camaron is leaving me. I look up at him and he looks mad.
“How could you leave me, Camaron?”
“Leave you? I am following my dream here, Sam. How could you even ask me to stay? You are my best friend, the one person who always said I should be happy. ‘Find your happiness, Camaron’! And now, now that I have this huge opportunity to go and open a shop with Rags' nephew, you are asking me why I'm leaving you? Sam, I'm not leaving you. I’m always going to be there, just like when you left to come here. We’ll still talk on the phone. And when you graduate, you will come and be with me. We will live our dreams, Sam, we’ll have it all.”
“I know you’re right and I know that I can’t ask you not to go, but freaking Philadelphia, Pennsylvania? Seriously, Camaron, that is across the country!”
“Earth to Sam . . . Earth to Sam,” Gabby yells. “Where the hell did you go? You were just staring into space.”
“Sorry, just remembering the day Camaron told me he was moving.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. That was the longest two months of my life. You didn’t want to do anything. Just hang around the apartment, waiting for his calls. I seriously don’t understand how he hasn’t figured out that you’re in love with him.”
“Shut up, I wasn’t that bad!”
“Seriously, Sam, you wouldn’t do anything until you heard from him. If it wasn’t for Skype, I think you would’ve had a nervous breakdown.”
Gabby is probably right, Skype has been my life line.
“Okay, enough about your precious Camaron, let’s get these fucking boxes filled and get something to eat! I’m starving here!”
Three hours later, with five boxes packed, we are finally sitting down at Jerry’s Pizzeria, our favorite place. They have the best pizza around and I am so going to miss this place. Camaron tells me that Philly has some great pizza but their cheese steak submarines or hoagies, as he now calls them, are to die for. I’ll have to see about that. I absolutely love food, I haven’t found a dish yet that I haven’t enjoyed. Weird isn’t it? There should be at least one thing that I don’t like, but, nope, haven’t found that one yet.
“Are you sure you want to leave, Sammy girl?” CC Jerry’s wife asks.
She is a cutie. She and Jerry moved from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, and opened Jerry’s Pizzeria, fulfilling a lifelong dream of theirs.
“Absolutely, CC! Camaron and I are going to live our dream.”
CC has a disturbing look on her face and tears in her eyes. “You go live your dream, Sammy girl. You need to remember not to let anyone else decide your dreams.”
“Being with Camaron has always been my dream, CC. No worries.”
After two slices of pizza, a side dish of baked ziti and four garlic rolls—yes, I love food—I am finally back in my tiny, over-cramped apartment. Things are starting to come together. I have the kitchen and living room packed and labeled, and just have my bedroom to finish. Gabby is loading the two boxes of clothes she is keeping into her car before she heads out.
“I’m going to miss you, Sam. Please make sure to call me when you land. Go out and find happiness—even if it isn’t with Camaron”
Ugh, here we go again—Gabby absolutely despises Camaron for some reason.
“Gabby, you know Camaron is my happiness.”
“Yeah, I know, but he doesn’t. Sam, you’ve been friends with him for fourteen years and you have never been anything more. Just his friend, just his ‘anchor.’ I mean, seriously, you think he would’ve made a move if you were the one for him. But, no, he just makes sure to string you along. He only dates Barbie’s, Sam, he would never want someone who is . . . ”
“Is what Gabby? What am I?”
“It’s not what you are, Sam, it’s what you’re not. You’re not a mindless skank. You are smart and you are fun but you are not a size zero! You need to see the real Camaron.”
“Yeah, like you know the real Camaron, Gabby. You don't know anything. Camaron might look at the Barbie’s but he has never taken one home. They never see his place. Yeah, I might not be a size zero, Gabby, but Camaron thinks I'm beautiful, he tells me that every day”
“It’s a term of endearment, Sam, he doesn't really think you’re beautiful, it’s him being nice!”
“Fuck you, Gabby. GET OUT!”
I can’t believe I just said that. I just couldn’t take her anymore. Gabby looks shocked, we have never really fought and I don’t think she has ever heard me raise my voice. I walk to the door and open it.
“Thanks for your help, Gabby, take care.”
“Really . . . Wow, okay, I'm sorry, Sam, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m just worried.”
“No reason to worry and you’re right, you shouldn’t have said anything. So, on that note, take care.”
I know I am being a bitch, but when it comes to Camaron and his feelings, it’s a sore spot. Gabby walks out the door and I shut it, with tears slowly falling. Maybe she is right, maybe this is all a hopeless dream and not only am I going to be heartbroken, but I also just lost a great friend because of it. Damn, I need a bowl of ice cream but I have none and all my dishes are packed. Grrr! Just then my phone dings. I run to my bedroom and grab it off the box next to my bed. There are three messages from Camaron.
Camaron: Hey Beautiful, hope you had a productive day
Me: hey
Camaron: Wow just hey? No hey gorgeous? what’s wrong?
Me: Nothing
Camaron: Tell me Sam, Ur upset so talk to me. Do you not want to move?
Me: Of course I want to move, Just got into a fight with Gabby is all
Camaron: ??
Me: We were talking about a guy
Camaron: and . . .
Me: she was just saying, because I'm not a size 0 that he doesn’t care
Camaron: Well that is a load of shit, ur awesome Sam don’t let her tell you different and if this douche doesn’t like you because you’re not a 0 fuck him, doesn’t matter anyway
Me: why is that?
Camaron: because ur mine, always will be :) Feel better?
Me: Yup
Camaron: well good bc I have to go finish a tat then meet up with the guyz what time is your flight?
Me: I’ll be arriving at 11 AM DO NOT FORGET ME!!!
Camaron: Never c u soon xoxox
He forgot me, he actually forgot me. I am standing here looking out at the crowd of people waiting for their loved ones and I don’t see Camaron anywhere. Ugh, seriously, you would think that after not seeing your best friend for the last two years, you would make sure to pick her up at the airport. I grab my phone and send a quick text, he probably is just parking.
Me: Hey Camaron where are you?
I don’t get a response back and take my bags and head outside. I look around and see tons of cars and people, but no Camaron. I decide to grab a bench and wait. I pull up my kindle app on my phone and continue to read the romance novel I started on the plane. Leverage by Jessica Wilde—now this story has captured my attention, especially Shades, talk about a great alpha male. He is definitely my new book boyfriend.
I am so wrapped up with the story I didn't realize that someone is standing next to me, looking down at me. I take my eyes away from my phone and realize that he is talking to me.
“Samantha . . . Samantha Jacobs.”
I look up and see a man, with dark brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes and a beard, talking to me. I must look idiotic because he laughs and gives me a smirk and says again.
“
Are you Samantha Jacobs?”
As I am about to answer my phone dings and I see Camaron’s name. I hurry, nodding and look down to a message that says:
Camaron: Sorry babe something important came up and couldn’t make it, sent Axel to pick u up cu soon xoxox
Seriously, he couldn’t make it? Ugh, how am I even going to know who Axel is? As I sit there, staring at my phone, trying to figure out how I could kill him, when I hear that deep voice again.
“The prick sent me to pick you up, that is, if you’re Samantha Jacobs”
“Yeah, I am Sam Jacobs. How do I know you were sent by the prick?”
He laughs as I referred to Camaron just as he did: a prick.
“I guess you don't.”
“Can I see your driver’s license please?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. How do I know that you aren't some hot man coming over to abduct me and sell me to the highest bidder?”
He has this look of stone on his face then he busts out laughing. Like really laughing, not a small chuckle. People are starting to stare as he grabs at his stomach, laughing louder and louder.
“That was a good one, darlin’.”
He grabs the wallet that is attached to a chain and pulls out his license. Looking at his hands, I see that he has tattoos. I look down at the license he’s holding up and see that, yep, this is Axel, Axel Flash Davis, to be exact.
“So, you think I'm hot?”
“Excuse me?”
“You just said that I could’ve been a hot guy trying to abduct you and sell you to the highest bidder.”
I feel myself turning red, I have nothing to say. I could say no, not at all, but he is right—I just called him hot. He starts to chuckle and shakes his head.
“Relax, Samantha, I’m just playing. Come, let’s go. I want to get the hell out of here—traffic is gonna suck”.
He picks up my two bags as I grab my carry on and start to follow him. We make our way through the parking garage and stop in front of a 1967 candy apple red Camaro.
Guided Love (Prick #1) Page 1