by R Cole
Copyright © 2013 by R.D. COLE
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1491038357
ISBN-13: 978-1491038352
Smashwords Edition 2013
***
This book is an original work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.
The opinions expressed in this book are solely those of the author.
Learning to Live
Copyright © 2013 by R.D. Cole
Smashwords Edition 2013
Published in the United States of America
EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher's permission. Criminal copyright infringement including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. 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 R.D. Cole.
Editing & Formatting: Maxann Dobson—The Polished Pen www.polished-pen.com
Cover Design: Regina Wamba—Mae I Design http://www.maeidesign.com/
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
About the Author
To my two angels in Heaven. I miss you everyday.
Give Thanks
Thank you Lord for letting this happen and seeing me through it. Amen.
With this being my first novel, I want to say thanks to you (the readers) for taking interest and purchasing it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I have to give thanks to my wonderful, patient, and hardworking husband Jordan for believing in my dream and giving me support. My family has been so great I would not know what I would do without them. Love you.
Next, is my friend Samantha. Many days have been spent shooting ideas with her. Thanks for not holding your tongue when I had a bad Idea.
My editor, Maxann Dobson, from The Polished Pen. Thanks for making editing so much fun and for your awesome advice and ideas.
Regina Wamba with Mae I design is so talented and captured the story perfectly with the beautiful cover. I can’t wait to see what she conjures up for my next book.
Trisha Rai with Devoured Words, you are the bomb. Thank you for all the tips and enthusiasm and for believing in this book which means so much to me. HEA Book Shelf Blogger and Abby Book Blog, thanks for continuing to “Pimp” my book. It’s so awesome to have people and bloggers like yourselves supporting Indie Authors. XOXO
To all the authors that left a mark in my life with your amazing stories (Julie Garwood, Jennifer Armentrout, Tara Sivec, Jessica Park, Lacey Weatherford, S.C. Stephens, Abbi Glines, Rebecca Donovan, Colleen Hoover, and many, many more). Y’all lead me to believe that I can do this. And look. I totally did.
Thank you to Coldplay and Hal Leonard Productions for permission to use one your awesome songs and lyrics. You rock!
Thank you Tyler. He’s the horse who threw me off back in April and caused my concussion. While laid up in bed trying to recover I decided to write. So I probably would have been way too busy if it wasn’t for the accident.
“Sometimes life can throw rocks big enough to leave cracks in your soul. You can either hide them or turn the cracks into something beautiful. Like a story.”
Author R.D. Cole
Atlanta, Georgia
I cower in the corner by the shower stall letting my eyes roam over the mildew and rust stains from the shaving cream can. Tears blur my vision, so they're difficult to make out, but I know the stains that never come off no matter how hard I scrub. I wipe my lip and see the bright red blood covering my finger tips and know I’ll need to come up with an excuse for my classmates. However, right now I’m too concerned for my unborn son to worry about them and their judgment.
My shaky hand caresses my large stomach. “Shh. Mommy will protect you. I promise.” Butterfly flutters start up as Brian kicks me from within, and I try to calm myself down. I’m not sure if his emotions match my own, but if they do I don’t want him to be scared.
“Trudy? Get the hell out here and clean this shit up now or I’ll drag your ass out myself.” Brad’s voice is full of anger as he bangs on the door. Even though it was replaced three weeks ago, it’s already loose around the frame. I know it won’t take much more force from him for it to bust open.
I slowly rise and take a steadying breath while I unlock the door. I know from past experience it’s best to follow his orders. A slap here and there is nothing compared to his fist.
I’m sure people think I’m stupid for sticking around, but when you grow up in foster care, rarely having anyone show you concern or pay attention to you, you hold on to it when it comes along. The only foster parent that showed me any affection was Ms. Freeman.
I was with her from eight years old to when she passed away, after my fourteenth birthday. She was the one who showed me how to do my makeup and taught me how to be a woman. She always used the money from the state to buy me things I wanted or needed instead of using it for her own wants. She even enrolled me in dance camp during the summers I was with her, and even though it’s something I rarely do anymore, I still love it. She talked about adopting me but never had the chance. She was killed by a drunk driver one night on the way to the last dance recital I ever participated in.
Unfortunately, the next person to show me any affection was Brad Foster. He wasn’t always mean and abusive. I wouldn’t have looked his way if I knew I would be scared of making him angry every day. I had met him a few months before my eighteenth birthday while he was hanging out at my school with some of the jocks. I didn’t notice at the time he was into drugs. I finally figured it out after I moved in with him. Brad had seen me crying one day at school, and when I told him that I was kicked out of the system and needed to find a place to live, he offered me his couch.
If I could have changed my decision, I don’t think I would because I wouldn’t have this miracle growing inside me.
I crack the door open and glance out. Brad is standing there, his face beet red, and staring at me with cold, grey eyes filled with disdain as
he takes in my face. I’m sure it’s red and starting to swell. He yanks on the door to open it and then pulls me out by my hair and tosses me on the couch. I protectively clutch my abdomen and roll on my side with my back facing his hateful gaze. “Now that you’re not being so lazy, clean this place up and make dinner before Tony gets here with his girl.”
I hear the door slam and frantically look around as the clanking of the noisy water heater starts. I exhale and begin to compose myself, knowing I only have a few minutes while he’s in the shower. I look around and see some broken dishes on the floor, so I carefully get on my knees and start picking them up. The old, plaid recliner is tipped over from when I was thrown out of it earlier. I strain to lift it and feel a sharp pain in my pelvic area. My breath hitches and I take slow breaths before I try again and succeed.
I head to our small kitchen and start a simple dinner of Hamburger Helper. I hope this will be good enough for Brad. Lately, nothing is and it’s just getting worse. I know I’ve got to be strong for the baby until I can come up with a plan to get out. I don’t want my child growing up with abuse in his life.
I haven’t told Brad but I received a letter from the University of South Alabama in Mobile for a full scholarship, and I want to do it. I haven’t made up my mind yet since I’m due in six weeks. I have nobody to help besides Brad and that’s very little. Tomorrow, I plan on calling Marjorie Malone, the student counselor, and tell her my situation. I have to be discreet when I do it so Brad won’t find out.
I’ve always enjoyed school, and I’m determined to make something of myself, more so now that I’m pregnant. I still need to continue my straight A average, even with the added AP classes on my schedule from this semester. Brad thinks it’s stupid to continue and is also against any type of college. That’s the main reason he didn’t bug me about getting an abortion when I found out I was pregnant. He believes I won’t want to go to college if I have a baby. He’s wrong though.
I stand in the kitchen boiling water and trying to maneuver without getting burned. It’s such a tiny space that two people can hardly stand in here together, but it serves its purpose. Then I hear a banging on the door and cringe because I know it’s Tony and Jessica. They always come to snort and smoke with Brad, but I also know Tony has other reasons for coming over. The way he looks at me is a sickening reminder of the past. I know Brad will get so high he’ll let Tony loose on me. It wouldn’t be the first time, and unless I leave, it won’t be the last. “Tomorrow,” I remind myself. I’ll hopefully have a plan by then because I can’t stay here much longer.
I unlock the door and I’m suddenly pushed to the side by Jessica. She struts in wearing her six inch stilettos, short black shorts, and hot pink tank top like she owns the place. Her unnaturally bright red hair is down and reaches her shoulders. It’s straight as a board, unlike my own.
My hair has never been colored and is a dark brown with natural red highlights. Big curls I can’t seem to control fall down my back to my bra strap, and it’s horrible with humidity. We’re around the same height of five foot six when she’s barefoot, but she’s skin and bones from the drugs while I try to maintain an athletic build from dancing and running, until my unexpected pregnancy.
I watch as her glassy brown eyes look around for Brad. I know she’s wanted him since they met a few months ago, and honestly I don’t care. When I leave she can have him and his bad habits. Breath tickles my neck and the sick smell of beer and cigarettes engulfs me as Tony stands behind me.
“Trudy.” I hate the way my name sounds on his lips. It makes me want to change it, but since it’s the only thing my parents left me, I’ll keep it. “Mmmmm, you smell yummy,” he slurs as I step away and return to the kitchen to escape his advances.
“Brad’s in the shower and should be just about done.” I remind him with unspoken words that even though Brad allows it while high, he’s very possessive while sober.
The bedroom door opens and I feel myself relax. This is probably the only time I’m thankful for Brad’s presence. He walks out in just his khaki shorts with his faded blue boxers showing. I notice he’s lost a lot of weight due to the drugs, but he refuses to change his habits. Whenever I ask, it just makes him angry. The only thing he has agreed to is not to make meth at our apartment, and I’m thankful for that. The last thing I need is for him to blow us all up.
His eyes have dark circles under them, and his dirty blond hair is dull and has grown past his ears, not in an attractive way. His arms are covered in homemade ink and the tattoos are fading. I can’t even make out most of them anymore.
After dinner is cooked I serve everyone, and although I made tea, they still opt for beer to continue getting trashed. I see them cut lines of white powder on the coffee table as I walk past to go get cleaned up to leave. I refuse to stay while Tony is here, and I’ve been trying to avoid him the past six months. He knows my tactic. I can see it in his stare, but I still have time to leave as long as Brad isn’t wasted.
I put my hair in a messy bun and pull on some old jeans and a warm sweater to help evade the frigid air that blows this time of year. I grab my jacket I bought at the Good Will and slide on my old tennis shoes. I had to double sock my feet because my left shoe has a hole in it. I don’t need frostbite to add on top of a busted lip.
As I reach for my crossover bag sitting by the front door, Brad stands up and moves Jessica from his lap. “Where you off to?” he asks while stepping forward.
“I have a paper to finish up so I need to go to library.” I turn to face him and notice Tony as he winks at me. His black eyes are sunken in, and his black hair looks greasy and dirty. He needs to shave and take a shower, but I know better than to let my disgust show. I shiver as flashbacks of the awful nights I wasn’t so fortunate in escaping surface, and I feel my heart beat pick up.
As I reach for the door to leave, Brad grabs my shoulder and squeezes it in a painful grip. “Don’t be out too late. You still need to clean this mess up.”
I just walk out the door without a reply. He knows I’ll follow the rules so I won’t get his fist in my face again. Jessica will placate both of them tonight during their drug induced orgy, and I won’t be needed. I say a prayer that I won’t have to endure this life much longer as I board the bus head to the local library.
Things are looking up, I think to myself as I walk home from school the next day. I had called Mrs. Malone from a friend’s cell phone during lunch and explained some of the situation to her. She told me they can help out with a campus apartment and child care while I attend classes with my scholarship. So even though I still have six weeks until I’m due, I accepted the scholarship. I’m so excited I practically dance home. I look at my watch and see I still have time to relax and plan my future while Brad’s at work.
I unlock the door and my heart stops as I step through. At first I think somebody broke in because of the mess, but then I see Brad sitting with his back facing me. I can tell by his rigid posture he’s in a bad mood and wonder if something happened at work. When he hears me shut the door, he stands up and turns those same cold eyes on me.
“Brad, are you o…okay?” I wonder why he’s looking at me like that, but then I see my scholarship packet in his hands and I know.
I’m visibly shaking from instant fear as I back toward the door for an escape. “You want to explain this to me?” he hisses while throwing the papers everywhere.
I swallow and take a breath as I watch them scatter. “I… I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with you yet.” I need to get out of here or calm him down. “You’re never home and when you are, we’re never alone,” I stammer, thinking of a way out of this fight as I hold on to my belly.
I see his eyes lower to where my hands are before he lifts them and stares into my dread-filled green eyes. I can tell he enjoys this power he has over me as he stalks toward me, straightening his shoulders. “Then tell me now.” He shoves me into the door, and I feel the knob jab into my left kidney and know there will be a br
uise.
I must take too long to answer because the next thing I’m aware of is the wind being knocked out of my lungs as I’m slammed on the stained carpet. I hear his footsteps getting closer as his feet crunch on the broken glass, and I try to come up with a plan. I roll over so I can get up, only to be kicked in my side by his steel toe boots.
“You were going to leave me weren’t you?” He kicks again but I have my back toward the impact while I clutch my stomach.“After I took you in?”
I want to deny it, but I’m still trying to catch my breath. “When no one wanted you? I’ve busted my ass to give you a home and this is how you repay me? HUH?” I cry out when I feel the impact of another blow on my lower back then tense up waiting for another. I concentrate on my unborn son as I hold on to my stomach, thankful to feel his continuous movements. “Answer me, you selfish bitch.” Instead of the kick I’m anticipating, he yanks me up by my hair.
“I w...wasn’t going to leave y...you. I haven’t responded to the letter yet.” My lungs burn and my chest feels tight, so I take a deep breath. The tears continue to fall, and my scalp burns while he holds me in place by my hair wrapped in his fist.
“LIAR!” he screams in my face. His breath lets me know he’s been drinking. “I got a call today from a friend. Said you were on the phone with someone talking about living arrangements and class schedules.” He takes a deep breath while bending down and nuzzling my ear and whispers, “I got people watching you, Trudy, everywhere you go. I know when you get to class. I know when you take a bathroom break, and I’m always aware of who you talk to.”
He pulls back and I see hate in his eyes. I brace myself when I get a glimpse of his fist rearing back. I feel the hit and then the throbbing pain in my jaw. I’m thankful he’s drunk because I was able to pull back to avoid full impact. I concentrate on becoming numb as I keep my hands on my stomach, wanting to protect him from all the pain that I can.