I chuckle through a tightened throat. “This is so cliché.”
He ignores me and presses his palm tighter, closer to my heart. “I’ll always be a part of you, living inside your heart, because that’s where my home is.”
“I love you, Dylan,” I say softly across quivering lips as a sea of tears rushes down my face.
He places his palms against my cheeks. “Please don’t cry. Don’t be sad.”
I smile. “They’re happy tears.”
“Wake up!” A desperate cry with the pitch of a scream tears through my ear. My grasp on this alternative world, this white space, shakes. Dylan disappears and I’m pulled out of my body here and into—my body lying in a muddy field beside a blazing fire. My entire body jerks, giving way to a seizure. Cookie’s palms are pressed to my chest, and I watch as relief passes across his face. “Thank God,” he says through muted breaths.
I raise myself up, taking in my surroundings. There’s an entire drum line beating against my skull. The finality of what I witnessed sinks in just as my body is sunk in this mud. Everything’s changed. The entire weight of the world lifts off my shoulders. There’s a momentary pause of relief where I’m thankful to be alive, knowing I’ll never take another breath for granted again. I’ve survived.
But I look over to see Blue, frozen in place with his legs kicked out against the ground. “Blue…” He doesn’t move. His entire body is lost in some sort of catatonic state. “How long was I out?” I ask Cookie.
“I don’t know,” he pants. “A few minutes.”
“And Blue?”
Cookie looks over to Blue, shaking his head slowly. “He was trying to resuscitate you and he just froze.”
The heat of the fire touches the skin on my back. I crawl through the mud and place my hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Wake up, Blue.” His beautiful blue eyes are empty, as if there’s nothing behind them. I shake him again. “Come on, you have to wake up.” My lip trembles. “Blue…”
Cookie groans as he scoots across the ground and I notice a bone sticking out of his leg. My mouth sags and bile rises in my throat. There’s a good chance I’ll pass out again. While I’m lost, staring at the protrusion in his leg, I hear a slap against flesh. I crane my head to see Blue shaking his head, his cheek cherry red.
“You’re welcome,” Cookie says as he throws his back against the ground. He’s handling the pain much better than I would. It’s baffling how I was pulled out of the wreckage without visible injury. I must have hit my head.
Blue’s arms wrap around me tightly, scaring the shit out of me, as I didn’t see it coming. I hug him back, caressing his back as his head leans against my neck. I think I even hear him sniffle, and trust me, I’d be crying too if my head didn’t hurt so badly.
Blue and I fireman-carry Cookie across the road and into the back of the tattered Jeep. Behind us, the sun begins to crest over the horizon, shining light upon the scene of the dying fire. It’s six in the morning and the humidity is already setting in. The thickness of the air surrounds us. Blue hops into the driver’s seat and slams the door. I freeze in place, knowing that I’ve forgotten something but not quite sure what.
I pivot on one foot, turning back to the wreckage. The money. I’m quick on my feet as I run toward the flipped car, throwing myself onto the ground once I get there. It’s gone. I stand back up and search the area with my eyes.
The bag’s lying upside down in a bush. I grab it and sprint back toward the Jeep, then it hits me—we don’t have to run anymore. This nightmare is over. Sirens begin wailing in the near distance and I freeze in place, my feet planted dead center in the middle of the road. None of us thought about this—what would happen if the police came?
I notice Blue’s eyes shift toward the incoming sirens. “Get in the car, Charlie,” he says dryly, not breaking focus. “Hurry.”
It takes a few seconds to shake off the worry, but when I do, I dart to the Jeep in an instant, tossing the bag of cash into the seat beside Blue. “We’ve only got a few minutes, so I need you to listen to me, all right?”
“Just get in, and we’ll talk about whatever it is—”
“I’m not going.” The way it comes off my tongue isn’t as stern as I intended. Instead, it comes out weak.
Blue shakes his head furiously. “No, I don’t accept that.”
“You have to.” My eyes grow heavy. “I love you, there’s no way you could think otherwise—”
“Then get in the car.”
“I mean, I flipped a car because I thought it’d save you.”
He pops the door open and hops out onto the road. “What about our plan? We were going to leave this all behind.”
“It was different then. There was a crazy man chasing after us,” I say, processing it all. “I was scared I was going to die.”
He brushes a hand through my hair. “I think you kinda did.” He laughs through a veil of sadness.
“That shouldn’t be funny.” But it is—in a fucked-up kind of way.
“All I’ve ever wanted was a home. And I found it and it was shattered, and then I found it again in that hotel room,” he says frantically. “I realized everything was going to be all right because I had you.”
My eyes lock with his. “Then stay.”
His head shakes. “You know I can’t. I’m a wanted man and there’s no getting out of this mess.”
I grab onto his arm, holding him with a grip of death. “My dad’s a lawyer. He can fix this.”
“How would we explain a bullet through Rake’s brain?”
“We could start with the fact that he’s a psycho and build the case from there.”
He drags a thumb across his lip. At least I know he’s contemplating staying. A long, drawn-out breath and a shrug later, I realize it was false hope. “I’m sorry.”
Tears build up in my eyes. “Then get in your Jeep and run.”
“Not without you,” he says between clenched lips.
I force a smile. This is an impossible decision, but I have to keep a face of resolve. It’ll be easier this way. “I’ll stay behind and handle everything. And when it’s all over, you can come back to Lakeview.” There’s a good chance he’s right, that somehow the police will pin equal blame on all parties involved, but something feels wrong about leaving now. I’ve only said goodbye to two and a half people. Tyson at the carnival and Dylan in my post-death, pre-resurrection dream. And a half-assed letter to my mother.
“Then I’ll be back someday.” He grabs both of my hands. “Because a life without you isn’t an option.”
“You’re telling me,” I say, relieved, as I wipe my eye with a thumb.
He laces his fingers with mine, holding them tight as he kisses me softly. The touch of his lips brings a million memories to the surface, every single emotion imaginable present in the smoothness of his touch. “I love you,” he breathes into my mouth before pulling away.
The sirens grow louder. They are well within a minute’s distance. “You should go.”
His head bows to the side. “Are you sure you won’t come?”
I give him a slight nod, afraid my words would betray me. His fingers slide out of mine slowly, as if he’s hoping I’ll grab onto him and never let go. Every further micrometer he slips, the strength in my legs grows weaker.
He looks back at me longingly as he slides into his seat. When it sinks in, and he accepts the fact that I’m not going, he turns around and steps on the gas. The wheels turn slowly. I give him one last perfect smile. The steady flow of tears follows instantly.
I don’t know if he’s driving ten miles an hour or if my world has come to a sudden halt. Blue and red flashing lights spin over a rolling hill less than a half mile away. My head tells me I should step off the road and into the grass but goddamn if my heart doesn’t have other plans.
“Blue!” I scream at the top of my lungs, waving my hands like the final girl in a horror film trying to hitchhike a ride after all her friends have been cut into piec
es with a chainsaw. Is it just me or are his wheels now turning faster? He must have seen the lights.
I give my entire body a shake and kick my feet against the asphalt beneath me, running faster than I’ve ever run. “Blue!” I scream again. “Stop!”
He’s not slowing down and I’m losing ground while the cops behind me gain it. If they see me in the street, running from the scene, I’ll surely spend the rest of my life in prison. “Please stop.” I mean to scream again, but it comes out as a whimper. My lungs pull tight, and I throw myself onto the surface of the road in defeat as Blue begins to fade into the distance.
I cry into the cracks of the road, giving myself in to the overwhelming sobs of loss. Then I hear screeching brakes. When I look up, I see Blue’s legs running past the red brake lights of his Jeep. My lips quiver on the verge of the revelation that my brief bout of insanity didn’t cause me any more grief.
My feet rise before my head, a physical impossibility, but that’s the way it feels. I rush toward him, launching myself into his arms.
“You’re so stupid,” he says, and I know it’s the best sort of compliment. “So fucking crazy.”
“I know, right?”
“What made you change your mind?”
I kick my legs out from around him and hop onto the ground. “It took me a few seconds too long to figure it out. But if I let you drive away, then all of this would’ve been for nothing.” He nods his head and I assume that he’s agreeing with me, but I can’t be too sure. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, take me home, Blue.”
His lips purse, his head pulls back. This is normally the part where he’d scratch his head. “I thought you just said you wanted to leave.”
I shake my head, pursing my own lips along with him. “Have you already forgotten? Home isn’t in Lakeview.” I grab his hand and place it to my chest. “It’s right here. Always here.”
“I fucking love you.”
He pulls me into a passionate kiss. Every part of him sinks into me, his lips so perfect against mine. It’s only been a few long hours since the last time we were so close together, but it feels like a lifetime.
I press against his chest, pulling back, taking a breath, and speaking all at once. “I think we should go.”
He nods and pulls me into him again. We melt together, unfazed by the sirens closing in on us. “Yeah, we should probably go.”
When he pulls back and grabs my hand, preparing to sprint to the Jeep, I pull him tight against me, needing to taste every bit of him to know that I’m making the right decision.
I am.
The sun rises over the trees as we hop into the Jeep, ready to leave this life behind and start anew somewhere else. We peel out against the asphalt, leaving tracks of evidence behind, but I’m positive Blue couldn’t care less. The moment his foot hit the pedal, we all became fugitives. Well, he’s already a fugitive, but my point should be clear.
It doesn’t matter where we go. We’ll never be homesick again.
Epilogue
Charlie
I lost everything but my heart. It’s fragile, always one heartbreak away from shattering, but it is there. I know this because every time Blue touches me—or even looks at me—it skips a beat. All these months later, and everything still feels brand new. Freud would say that’s something else entirely, but he’s also dead, so what does he know?
The carnival closed about two hours ago and the rest of the crew has long gone to sleep, preparing to rise again in less than seven hours. I should be in bed too, but I’ve come to understand what Blue meant that night we sat on the porch discussing his troubling sleeping patterns. I’d rather be awake while the rest of the world dreams because, in the stillness of silence, life becomes more vivid than any closed-eye fantasy.
Blue, ever the gentleman, loaded me into the trenches of the Ferris wheel and sent me to the top of the world. Then he shut the power off because it’s not exactly within company guidelines to play with the machinery after closing.
A hand folds around the edge of the bucket as Blue pulls himself into the rocking seat and my heart skips a beat. See, I told you. Every damn time. It’s peculiar how this particular ride has come to soothe me after years spent dreading the revolver of death.
Blue sits down, hands me a beer, and wraps his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder and take a swig. Every Friday night, it seems to be the same thing. Blue and I ascend the heights of the tallest carnival ride, meditating in silent love because we know it’s two against the world. Or at least two against the law.
Someday, maybe soon, we’ll have to leave the life of the carnival behind. Our past will catch up to us. There was already a close call a few weeks back when a detective came knocking. We’re both fugitives of both the law and of our own pasts. We can’t change either, but regret isn’t an option. That’s a dangerous path to go down.
Now, I can’t begin to explain the whirlwind. I wouldn’t know where to start. The only thing I know is that during these past few months of moving from temporary home to temporary home, one thing has remained consistent—my love for him. It’s undying, it’s beautiful, and it’s everything I never knew I was missing.
The pain fades but the wounds remain. I’m not the same girl that walked into the county fair last August. I’m not the same girl that flipped a car going sixty miles an hour in a reckless bid to save the man I love. I’m always changing. Always evolving. I’ll return home someday and pray I’m able to pick up the pieces of my broken life.
For better or worse, Jimmy Clay changed my life—because he’s a fucking liar. And I thank him every day because, without him, the chances that I would’ve met Blue are slim. But the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that chance isn’t the same thing as fate, but it’s something more akin to a carnival ride.
Yeah, life is just like a carnival ride.
CARNIVAL NIGHTS (Carnival #1.5) Available Now
AMUSEMENT (Carnival #2) Coming Soon
Sign up for the K.B. Nelson Newsletter here
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads
Reviews are important for all authors. If you enjoyed this book, I’d love for you to share your thoughts on the platform you purchased it from. I love to chat with readers, so feel free to drop me a line on any of the platforms listed above, or through email.
Author Bio
At any given time, you can find K.B. Nelson doing one of two things; getting lost in the lives of fictional characters, or getting lost on actual highways. K.B. Nelson writes New Adult and Contemporary Fiction.
Back-Up
Book 1 of The Back-up Series
A.M. Madden
Back-Up
A.M. Madden
Published by A.M. Madden
Copyright ©2013 A.M. Madden
First Edition, ebook-published 2013
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The use of artist and song titles throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way been seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. 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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
www.ammadden.com
Chapter One
&nbs
p; Leila
Calm down, Leila…
Nervously tapping my foot, I keep repeating the same words over and over in my head. I have never been this anxious or nervous in my entire life. I can’t believe that I am here, sitting in a recording studio and waiting to audition for a real live rock band. Devil’s Lair, a band I love and have been following for years!
Every child is asked the rhetorical question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be a rock singer.
Most answer and change their minds hundreds of times before they become adults. Not me. My answer has always been the same…singing rock and roll. That’s always been my dream, mission, and goal. Two key factors played a huge role in my career choice. First off, I can sing. Secondly, I grew up in a household that loved to listen to classic rock. I think I knew the words to Born to Run before I knew The Itsy, Bitsy Spider. Singing rock makes up as much of my DNA as being Italian does.
This audition is huge for me. It seems so surreal that I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I want this so badly that I’m not sure how I’ll survive the disappointment if I don’t get this job. The optimist in me tries to reason with the pessimist. Obviously getting this job would be my first choice. But if I don’t get the job, this is a great experience for me that can easily open other doors and opportunities. I believe in fate and I believe things happen for a reason. There’s a reason that I’m here.
It was a lucky tip that got me here. It’s very hard to get your foot in the door. I don’t have a rich famous record producer as an uncle. American Idol isn’t my thing. Hoboken, New Jersey isn’t exactly the birthplace of rock singers either. I constantly scour the papers for opportunities to get my voice heard. I’ve entered competitions and won many of them. Besides what I’ve been doing, I’m at a loss for other ways to put my dreams into motion. These last few years have come up empty and I’ve been increasingly becoming more frustrated.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 84