Wrecked and Yours Trilogy: A Second Chance Love Story

by CeeCee James

  “Oh yeah?”

  Miranda nodded. “Turns out I have an anxiety issue I need to deal with.” The napkin in front of her was torn into shreds. “Probably stemming from something that happened to me as a teenager.”

  Jason snorted. “Yeah, I can imagine. The fact that you lived through your teenage years is a miracle.”

  “He recommended a counselor.” Miranda blushed at the word. Knowing she needed a counselor made her feel weak and broken. But maybe that was what she was. “I kind of feel like a failure because I can’t fix myself.”

  “You don’t really think that’s true, do you?” Jason raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Millions of people see a counselor. Facing the problem is strength, even if you don’t know how to fix it.”

  “Yeah, you think you’ll ever need one, buddy?” she gently ribbed him.

  He looked away. “We’re talking about you, not me.” The skylight above them played on the shadows of his dark whiskers.

  Miranda tapped his hand with a coffee stirrer. “Are you ever going to forgive me?”

  “I said I did.” Jason licked his lip before taking a drink of his coffee.

  “I mean,” Miranda began again, “I saw it in your eyes. Last night when I went to get coffee.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t trust me not to do it again, do you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed his chair slightly away from her.

  “Do you?”

  “Miranda,” he said softly, closing his eyes.

  “Jason,” She took a deep breath, then let the words come tumbling out. “I care about you. Why won’t you let me in? Why are you always holding me at arm’s length?” Her voice quaked.

  He tensed at her words, then looked at the ceiling with red eyes.

  “I don’t want you to care about me in that way, Miranda. I told you what happens to people who get involved with me.” He stood up. “Look, it’s been a rough night. We’re friends. It’s cool. Just accept that there can’t be more. Now, come on. Let’s go back and check on Cassie.”

  She frowned, her stomach tied in knots, but picked up her coffee cup and followed him back to her sister’s room.

  17

  ~Homeless~

  With a jerk, the train slowed down. “About five more minutes,” Jason said. He leaned his head out, but the town still wasn’t in sight.

  “Can you stand up?” he asked her.

  Her leg throbbed. The ground flashed by in a blur. What is he thinking? How can I do this? The image of herself landing on the pavement and cartwheeling across its surface flashed through her mind. He’s crazy!

  “Two minutes.”

  He’s serious! She closed her eyes and thought, It was nice knowing you, skin.

  Another chug, and the train slowed more.

  “Did I ever tell you I’m scared of heights?”

  Jason grabbed her hand and glanced down at her leg. He squeezed her hand. “Hey,” he said, making her look him in the eye. “You’ve got this. I swear you’ve got this.”

  “I’m going to die.”

  “You aren’t going to die. We’re going to be fine, and then we’ll go find Cassie.”

  She nodded. The train plodded into the town. Jason shot a quick look up the boxcars, and then at the flashing ground. His grip tightened on her hand.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” she said, but her head shook, perceptibly, no.

  “One.” His other arm clenched around her waist.

  “Oh, no…”

  “Two.”

  The ground rushed by at a blur. “Jason, I don’t think—”

  “Three!” He hurled himself out, pulling her with him.

  They hit the embankment and rolled down it like wet towels in a dryer. With a thump they landed at the bottom in the grass, Jason on top of her. He smiled a bit as he pushed off. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  Miranda lay there and groaned, testing her limbs.

  He offered his hand to help her. “How are you feeling? Anything broke?”

  “Now you ask? After you threw me off a moving train and landed on top of me?”

  “Why are you making that noise?”

  “It was anticipatory,” she said. “Just in case I was really hurt.”

  “Are you?”

  She tested her arms and leaned back to stretch out her back. “I’m fine,” she said dryly.

  “Not super fine.” Jason looked at her leg, which was bleeding through the cloth bandage. “Come on. I’ll stash you someplace and get us some water.” His muscles bunched under his torn t-shirt as he supported her and she hung on to his shoulder. Together, they limped toward the town.

  “I feel like a three legged pygmy goat,” Miranda complained.

  “Why?” Jason asked.

  “Because,” she gritted her teeth at a sharp jolt of pain. “They’re so dang cute.”

  He struggled to keep a straight face but failed. “You’re something else, Miranda.”

  “Just shut up and get me some shade.”

  The town was busy. Cars passed by in a steady stream. Up ahead she could see a shopping center and a bank.

  “I’m taking you there.” Jason gestured with his head to a group of trees behind the bank. “Then I’ll go find a store or a fast food place and get some water.”

  “We need directions to the school, don’t forget,” Miranda added.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  Miranda was surprised by the lack of attention they were getting. These people would be blind to a zombie apocalypse.

  Once under the tree, Jason gently lowered her to the ground, grimacing a bit when she sucked in her breath at the pain.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah.” She readjusted herself. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

  He gave his half-smile, showing his crooked tooth. “Whatever, lady.” He winked and then, after a quick look both ways, jogged across the road.

  The breeze felt amazing against Miranda’s sweaty face. She leaned back against the trunk and closed her eyes. Her leg throbbed and itched where the bandage stuck to it.

  “Hey!” A voice startled her alert. Marching towards her was a woman in business attire and high heels. “You can’t be sitting there,” the lady called as she came closer.

  Miranda closed her eyes and groaned.

  “You need to leave now. Can’t you read?” The lady pointed to the side of the building, where a sign stated No Loitering.

  Miranda raised her hand in acknowledgement, unsure of just how she was going to get up in a standing position.

  “Don’t be waving at me. I mean now.” The firm footsteps came closer. “Want me to call the police?”

  Miranda shook her head no, and rolled to her side. Carefully, she eased her good leg under her, and using the tree as a crutch, pulled herself standing.

  The lady stopped. “Good,” she said. “Now get going.”

  Miranda took a couple tottering steps away from the tree. Once she was out from under the shade, the sun nearly knocked her down with its intensity.

  Satisfied, the lady turned to return to the bank, muttering loud enough for Miranda to hear, “Worthless kids. Why don’t you try working for a living?”

  “Great,” Miranda thought, wondering where she was going to go. She hobbled to the crosswalk and crossed the road, trying to follow where she’d last seen Jason.

  Little mirages lay like puddles on the shimmering pavement. “I can do this. I can do this,” she repeated with each footfall.

  Up ahead was a tattoo parlor, with a shaded alcove. “Just got to get there.”

  Miranda saw an old man heading her way. He walked slow and stooped over, but when he caught her eye, his face crinkled like origami into a smile.

  “Well, hello there, young lady.”

  The sun was so horrible it made it hard to think. She smiled at him for a second, then looked down at her feet. That’s when she noticed a bloody toe poking out of her torn sneaker.

  �
�H-hello,” she stammered.

  He stopped next to her and eased his weight on to his brass-handled cane. He swiveled his head, taking in the blue sky. “Beautiful day.”

  Miranda nodded, and wished he would go away. The sun was making her nauseous. She needed to find Jason.

  “What are you doing on this nice day?”

  “I’m just waiting here.”

  “Oh, waiting for something special?”

  She straightened up, every part of her body aching. Put your game face on, Miranda.

  “I'm trying to find the elementary school to pick up my cousin,” Miranda said.

  “Ah.” He nodded, and pulled at his white beard. “I might be able to help you with that. Benjamin Franklin?”

  Miranda licked her cracked lips and nodded. Breathing was becoming hard.

  “It’s this way.” He pointed in front of him. A look of concern flashed across his face. “Let me lead you there.’

  Can’t. Leave. Jason. Her head felt thick as she shook it in protest.

  “Nonsense. The doctor harps on me constantly to get exercise. You’d be doing me a favor.” Somehow, he had Miranda turned around and walking along beside him. “Though I’ve barely listened to the doctor all these years. Why start now?” He chuckled.

  “Yeah,” Miranda tried her hardest to hide her limp. She darted a glance behind her. Jason, where are you?

  He briefly looked at her leg but made no mention of it. Instead, he gave a gentle smile. “Let’s walk slower. My hip is bothering me.” He leaned even more on his cane. “So, you're visiting, then?” he asked as he continued to shuffle.

  “Yeah, just for the week.” Keep your answers short and sweet, Miranda reminded herself.

  “Oh, that’s nice. Where are you visiting from?” His eyes were surprisingly blue as they peered at her from under his golfer’s cap.

  “Uh,” Dang it! Think quick. “Not far.” Inside Miranda cringed. Really? Not far? You suck at this, Miranda.

  “Not Far,” he said mildly. “Never heard of it.” And gave her another smile.

  Miranda laughed weakly. “I meant I'm from Southton.”

  He wrinkled his brow. "You're right, that's not far. Haven't you been to Evergreen before?”

  Miranda closed her eyes. Southton was only fifteen minutes away. “No, not really. My cousin usually comes to our house.” She was digging herself in deeper, and Miranda could tell by the low chuckle that he thought so, too.

  They turned the corner and there sat the school, a two story brick building with a large sign built into a berm, surrounded by red and yellow geraniums.

  “Well.” He gave a gentle wheeze. “There you go, Missy.”

  Cassie’s head popped over the top of the sign like a mushroom. Her dirty face was streaked with two clean lines where she'd been crying .

  “Miranda!” she squealed and ran from behind the berm. “I knew you'd come find me.”

  She leapt into Miranda’s arms. Miranda’s weak leg gave out, and they tumbled into the grass.

  “Are you okay?” Cassie asked, her blue eyes shining with concern. She leaned back, then noticed the bloody pant leg and sucked in her breath. “Oh my gosh, Miranda! What happened?”

  Miranda lay on the grass for a moment and looked up into the tree. The leaves fluttered in the wind. So pretty. It reminded her of her special tree. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

  Darkness robbed her light to a dot. “Just going to close my eyes for a second.” The last thing she saw was the old man extending an arthritic hand towards her.

  * * *

  The light returned as a spark in the center of black velvet, before blossoming into a blurry tunnel. Miranda blinked a few times. The room was dark, with the curtains pulled together.

  Her eyes widened. She had no idea where she was.

  She pushed up against the soft surface, immediately inciting a group of voices urging her to lie back down.

  Cassie’s face came into view. “Here, Sis, take a drink.” She offered a cup with a bendy straw in it.

  Miranda sipped: mmm, cool lemonade. Her sister took the glass away when it was half gone, despite Miranda’s murmured protest.

  “What was it you told me?” Cassie waggled her eyebrows. “Drink it slow, or you barf!”

  “Where are we?”

  “Oh, we’re at Mr. Stewart’s house.” Cassie smiled at a dark corner and Miranda turned her head to follow. The old man sat in an easy chair, his hands folded on top of his cane.

  “Hello there, young lady.” His voice was deep and gentle. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  From the corner of her eye Miranda saw a woman walk out of the room carrying a plastic tub.

  The old man caught her glance. “My neighbor, Miss Shelley,” he explained.

  Miss Shelley returned with a steaming mug. “Well, now.” Her voice was chipper. “Nice to see you awake.” She sat gently next to Miranda on the couch and offered the mug. “Some good old-fashioned chicken soup.” She nodded, her bobbed hair tucked neatly behind her ears like two bird’s wings. “My mother always said it cures everything, and I quite agree.”

  Miranda accepted the soup, her eyebrows still rumpled in confusion. “How did I get here?”

  Mr. Stewart gave a mild chuckle. “Your young man carried you.”

  “My—” Miranda glanced around the room. Jason appeared out of a dark corner where he’d been leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A thrill shot through Miranda, and she struggled to get up.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Miss Shelley scolded. “You aren’t about to undo all the work I just did.”

  Miranda realized then that her leg was firmly wrapped.

  “Your leg was a mess, girlie, but I cleaned it up.”

  “She stitched it while you were out,” Cassie announced. “It was disgusting.”

  Miss Shelley snorted. “I’ve lived on a farm all my life. I’ve sewn up my share of wounds.” She patted Miranda on her other knee. “And that wasn’t too bad. You’re going to be fine. But don’t be thinking you can jump up and play soccer. You need to keep your leg straight for a few days so those stitches don’t tear.”

  Miranda nodded, then looked back at Jason. She waved at him to come over. Miss Shelley watched him for a second before bustling back to the kitchen. “You two need to come in here and get some soup, too. I made a big pot. No sense in letting it go to waste. She isn’t going to eat it all.”

  Cassie followed after her and Miss Shelley wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “And then maybe later you and I can make some cookies.”

  Mr. Stewart was slower, but soon eased himself out of the chair. “I vote for butterscotch chip, Miss Shelley,” he said as he shuffled after them.

  Jason stared intently at Miranda. He pushed off the wall and walked over. “Hey, Sunshine.”

  She patted the couch. “Sit.”

  He hesitated for a moment, studying her leg.

  “You aren’t going to hurt me. Sit down!”

  Carefully, he sat next to her.

  “How the heck did you get me here?”

  Shrugging, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Easy. Carried you.” He flexed his arm and his bicep bulged. His eye gleamed then. “But you could have laid off the Twinkies.”

  Miranda laughed. “What a brat you are.”

  He grabbed her hand and turned it over. “That’s me.” He gave a tight-lipped smile.

  “How did you find me?”

  Slowly, he traced the lines on Miranda’s palm. “I was coming back when I saw you with him.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “So I followed you guys.” Then, he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You have no idea what it did to me to see you lying under that tree.”

  The mood was dark and heavy. Miranda could see pain in his eyes. Trying to lighten the atmosphere, she joked back. “Aww, my hero. Thank you for saving me. It’s becoming a superpower.” She squeezed his hand.

  The squeeze seemed to startl
e him as if just realizing he was still holding her hand. He let it go and leaned slightly away. “I’m nobody’s hero.”

  “Well, you’re mine.” Miranda recaptured his pinky by looping her pinky around it.

  He studied their hands linked together. Gently, he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. He glanced at her, and his eyes were red. Sighing, he looked away.

  “When I try to help people, they die.” He shook his head and gave a sarcastic laugh. Pulling his hand from hers, he stood up. “My superpower is destruction.”

  “Jason.” Miranda’s heart twisted at his withdrawal. “Please, that’s not true.”

  “Everyone has their secrets.” His brow furrowed in hard lines. “You think I’m going to be more than a friend to you. I can tell by the way you’re looking at me. But we are never going to happen. Ever. People who love me die.”

  “Jason!”

  “I’m going to get something to eat.” He nodded towards her mug. “Finish your soup.” His steps were heavy as he left.

  Miranda bit back her tears. She balled her fist and punched the couch. “He doesn’t want you,” she whispered to herself.

  18

  Present Day

  Miranda finished washing the last of the plates and propped it in the dish drainer. She wiped her hands on the back of her shorts and smiled to herself. The last few days had been good ones.

  Cassie was improving every day. The fact that she’d been pregnant still skirted the edge of Miranda’s mind. “If I’d stuck around, that would never have happened. One more crappy way I let her down,” she whispered to herself.

  She reached into the cookie bag to grab a couple of cookies. Archer walked into the kitchen at the bag’s rattle and gave a high nasal whistle. Miranda broke one in half and handed it to him.

  “Ha!” Jason’s voice rang triumphantly as he sprang around the corner.

  She looked just in time to catch a throw pillow on her chest.

  “Oof! What was that for?” She noticed he had his ratty white t-shirt on again. I’ve got to figure out a way to hide that.

  “Feeding my dog. I caught you.”