All is Lost (All Series, Book 2)

by Marie Wathen

  Please God, let someone find us, I pray silently.

  Waverly jumps her time line to high school and rambles through heavy lidded eyes for a while about hating on jocks and cheerleaders. I take offense at first, since I was a cheerleader throughout my middle and high school years, but after another twenty minutes, to my surprise she bashes every click. She even trash talks those groups that she was part of, who swore they were nothing like the popular clicks.

  “Why is it necessary to remember this bad stuff?” I ask.

  “Because, the bad shit made up Waverly Collins just as much as the good stuff.”

  Getting sleepier, she curls onto her side and shares about her dashed hopes of going off to college. After internally fighting through a few moments of embarrassment she reluctantly tells me that her family couldn’t afford to send her until after her oldest brother Bry finished medical school. Apparently, the Collins family consists of mostly blue collar workers, but Bry was the one son who wanted more and was determined to provide his family with some of the luxuries that I take for granted on a daily basis.

  However, when the time came Waverly passed on her free ride at her brother’s expense and picked up a waitressing job, which eventually turned into a bartender position at Club Toxic. Apparently, she loves it, and hopes that one day she’ll have a club just like it.

  Finally, Waverly becomes somber when she starts talking about Morgan. The girl is so in love with that big dummy that I begin crying thinking about how horrible I was to Tristan. As she recounts the last time she saw Morgan she starts with their verbal attack on each other that signified the end of their relationship. Before long she recedes through telling me about feeling unworthy because of her family’s status on the island, their special arrangements and she finally tells me about the night she met Morgan.

  “When Morgan showed up at Toxic for the first time, he strolled into the place like he was god’s gift to everything,” she chuckles softly. “His attitude about being front and center was like staring into the sun, it was positively blinding. I watched him walk past me while I was working the downstairs tables and followed him with my eyes as he took a seat next to my brothers, Ian and Jack at the VIP bar.” She smiles and a strange butterfly sensation blossoms in my stomach at the pining look in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t focus on my tables for shit. After an hour of screwing up Tox made me clock out and go home. Instead, I went upstairs.”

  Shaking her head slowly, she glances up at me with moist eyes and whispers, “Anna, I can’t forget Morgan. I just…” Thick tears flow down her cheeks and she wipes them away with her fingertips. “Please don’t let me forget him,” she begs through the final drips of her emotions.

  My heart cries out for Tristan once again. “I won’t. Just tell me everything and I promise that if that time comes I will be there reminding you of every last detail.”

  She takes a few minutes to compose herself before starting again and I mentally shake myself out of the torment she is facing with losing all of these precious memories.

  “A couple of really beautiful and rich women walked over and joined them before I finally found the nerve to cross the area over to the bar. My hesitation wasn’t from them or Morgan, it was from seeing my ex-boyfriend, Tyle working the bar. See, he is the reason I know so much about Ryske and it is the reason we broke up. The side effects the drug had on him were bad.”

  She shivers like the memory makes her physically ill. “He became a different person. One second he was sweet, loving and would be singing along with some silly song stuck in his head. But then the very next second he switched to pure evil. His words were cruel, and it was like his body would instantly repel those good things away because he would become violently ill.”

  That explains her reaction before sharing, I note. “What the heck?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I thought that maybe he had some type of psychosomatic disorder. It was freaky as hell. The drug was killing him slowly, but he refused to quit it and I couldn’t stand by supporting a habit that was stealing him away from me. Apparently our break up was a wakeup call for him because he finally got off the shit. Unfortunately, it still rules his world.”

  She looks away into the dark room and sighs heavily before starting again, “Anyway, I forced down my apprehension and joined Tyle behind the bar. He smiled at me sadly, but kept his mouth shut for the most part. While I was helping him clean up, I kept my eye on the ladies and Morgan. After a few stolen glances, I noticed he was watching me too. I have never been more enthralled by any one person in my life. He was magnetic and provocative. But above all his charm was why the women latched onto him. My brothers were definitely playing second fiddle to him and it was beginning to rub me the wrong way. I know that sounds strange, but I was kind of bothered by the fact that this stranger swooped in and had these tourists eating out of the palm of his hands. All the while my big goofy brothers were practically standing on top of their heads begging for some attention,” she laughs weakly.

  “So, was it the fact that he charmed them that led you to wanting him?” I ask. Considering the source of the charm was Morgan Walker I couldn’t stop the automatic eye roll.

  She laughs again. “Yeah, I guess, but there were other things. Particularly, it was the fact that even though he had their undivided attention, they didn’t have his. Once he made eye contact with me he didn’t release me from his hypnotic gaze. Not until Tyle bumped into me and caused me to drop an eighty year old bottle of Scotch. I started cussing and flopped down on my knees to clean it up. While clearing away the broken glass, I heard a catty comment followed by an irritating cackle, coming from those two bitches.”

  My eyes grow wide at the thought of feisty Waverly being taunted.

  “Yeah, so I cleaned up the mess and sauntered my happy ass right up to them. I got in the bigger bitch’s face and told her to get the hell away from my brother or I would take her ass outside and sling-blade her. She didn’t know that I made up the term sling-blade just to scare her. The threat was enough to scare her friend shitless and within fifteen seconds they vanished down the stairs.”

  My mouth hangs open and I blink several times while she looks at me with an amused expression. “Dang, remind me not to cross you. Whether or not there really is a sling-blade, you might just be crazy enough to invent one.”

  Waverly laughs and says, “I’m so sleepy Anna, but back to the night I met Morgan. Once the women were out of the picture, I took the open seat next to him. Without Ian and Jack catching on I carefully flirted my ass off all night. It really wasn’t all that difficult to keep it on the down low. There was some stupid dart competition going on that captivated almost everyone in the VIP area.” We smirk at each other, knowing how weird the local boys get with their unofficial greatest pastime. “By the end of the night my flirting paid off. Morgan gave me his phone number and as they say the rest is history.”

  “Oh no, you, Waverly Collins you do not get to stop there. Remember you wanted me to know all the details so that I can remind you later on when…” I freeze realizing that I am being cruel, insinuating that she will forget Morgan.

  Waverly averts her eyes and says, “Some other time okay Anna? I’m completely wiped out. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open another moment.”

  “Yes,” I nod, touch her elbow and say, “Waverly, I’m sorry this is happening. But I’m glad you shared it all with me.”

  She doesn’t respond for a long time and I think that maybe she is already sleeping, but finally she clears her throat and whispers, “When we get out of here, please don’t let anything stop me from finding Morgan and telling him all of it too.”

  Whether it is from the emotional dump or just plain exhaustion, we stop talking. Sometime later not realizing that I had curled up with my back pressed against Waverly’s, I wake up to the sound of approaching footsteps. Fear of who could be walking down the long corridor, flagrantly takes the driver’s seat of what feels like an emotional high stakes Indy race
. Panicking I twist around and cling tightly to Waverly. We sit up together and remain completely silent as the door slowly cracks open with a thick, metal groan announcing our captor.

  From the other side of the small flickering torch, a man steps in and I recognize him instantly. He stands in front of us in strange attire with his handsome face covered by a thick, murky cover-up. His odd eyes initially latch onto mine before roaming down my body and then they slowly move to scan Waverly. I sneak a glance at her and the recognition isn’t showing on her face. Through furrowed eyebrows, she glares at him and rises to her feet. Not wanting to be the only one sitting on the ground I follow suit.

  Slightly lethargic, Waverly stumbles toward him and places both hands on her hips to steady herself before saying in a sleepy voice, “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but we are not some damn pawns for you to use. You better let us go now or I promise you that when I get out of here I will make your life a living hell.”

  He stares at her briefly and I notice several emotions quickly play through his features, ranging from sadness, shock, and defiance.

  Finally settling on boredom he returns his eyes to me locking gazes once again. Never taking his eyes off me, he says, “Waverly, if you even remember what happened after the amount of drugs you’ve had, I would fully expect for you to do just that.”

  “So you know who we are? Great!” She says agitatedly. “Now, how about you give us the same respect? Who the fuck are you and what do you want with us?” She demands, noticing the way he’s glaring at me she steps between us, completely blocking his view.

  “What you need to know is that no one is going to find you here and that I very well could be the last person you ever see.”

  That shut her up and causes a woozy feeling to possess my stomach. I turn away and pray that I can keep from being sick. Shocking me out of my mind entirely, he rushes over to me and gently helps me sit down. A few moments of sitting helps quell the nausea, but seeing him up close confirms that I do know him.

  His mouth tips up at the corners before asking, “Are you alright Anna?”

  I nod and my voice cracks as I say, “What’s going on? Why are you doing this to us?”

  He flinches at my words like I just stabbed him. Wordlessly, he stands and walks back toward the door. Pulling it closed and locking it again, he hesitates at the small window staring down the long passageway.

  Clearing his throat he says, “Ladies, I’m sure this will sound farfetched after everything that has happened, but I actually saved your life.”

  He walks away without an explanation and Waverly begins screeching for him to prove that he really wants to save us by letting us out of this hell hole.

  Several minutes pass before she finally calms and returns to her position beside me against the wall. She lets out a long, slow breath and then follows that up with a cuss under it.

  I turn to her and ask, “Waverly, did you recognize him?”

  She glances at me completely confused and says, “No. Why did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?”

  “That was one of the guys who took us,” I answer.

  “Well, no shit Sherlock. I thought maybe you meant that you’ve seen him before he abducted us from the hospital.”

  I nod, “I have and so have you.”

  “Dammit, I don’t remember him. Anna who is he?”

  Utterly terrified by the fact that she can’t remember him, knowing that she knows him on a personal level and baffled by what his plans for us could be, I stare into her eyes, swallow my apprehension and then with barely a whisper I answer, “Tox.”

  To be continued…

  Please continue reading for a special excerpt from All This Time (a standalone spinoff and prequel to Be All).

  About the Author

  New Adult Author of the All Series (four book series). Marie Wathen is a wife, mother of two and earlier this year she became a Lola (her version of grandmother). When she isn’t writing her other career is in law enforcement. Marie is a fourteen year veteran dispatcher at her local Sheriff’s Office; it is also where she met her husband Barry. Born and currently living in Central Alabama, she enjoys a serene life in the country, but lives for the excitement of large cities.

  Besides writing some of Marie’s other passions include reading, traveling, and family time that includes southern home cooking. Although Marie has been a storyteller her entire life, Be All is her first publication. Marie’s genre includes, but is not limited to, Romantic Suspense. She is currently collaborating on a Romantic Paranormal Thriller series that will release in 2014. The journey on Willow Island will continue next in Worth it All (All series, Book 3) expected release date is mid spring. However, Marie is currently working on a standalone / prequel in the series All This Time (Sam’s Serendipitous story) releasing February 2014.

  Marie welcomes you to connect with her.

  Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/MarieWathenAuthor

  Twitter: @mariewathen

  Email: mariedwathen@gmail.com

  Acknowledgments

  This book wouldn’t have been possible without the support of certain people and it never would have made it to publication without some special people reading it, giving me invaluable advice and great encouragement.

  My gratitude to the following:

  Kayla and Kaitie, I love you, more than words.

  Auderia DeStafino, again thank you for keeping me sane when the crazy shit surfaced. And to Devan Rhayne, for still thinking I’m the coolest. I think you’re fabu too!

  My girlfriends for a thousand different reasons Barbara Gonzalez, Loretta Barks, Paula Price, Lisa Carr, Karen Martin, Debra Good, Krystle Foster.

  To my big, loud Italian family: Thank you DeStafinos for all the special moments and stories that will live on in my heart.

  MY BETAS!!!!! Simone Nicole, Merilyn Dignum, Venture Cecena, Angela Pratt, Heather Terranova Armstrong, Elizabeth Bartholomew, and Mitzi Jo Reeves. Love cannot describe what I feel for you for putting up with horrible grammar, embarrassing spelling boo-boos, all the revisions, letting me harass you with tons of questions and giving me the guts to publish my second book. (Which I know we all can agree is better than the first <3)

  My Kick Ass Bloggers!!! Tour DeBlogg (Angela & Savannah) Angela Pratt (I Feel the Need, the Need to Read), Savannah Mae (Say What, Savannah Mae?), Breezy Kirkpatrick (Breezy BeautyandBooks) Natalie Catalano (Love Between the Sheets), Tyeesha Webb (Momma’s Secret Book Obsession), Tonya Nagle (Turnthe Page), Brandi Money & Shawn Verdin (Book Geeks Unite), Judith Frazee (One More Chapter), Megan Gallt (Novell Grounds) Reading Past My Bedtime, Paranormal Romance and Authors That Rock, Swoon Worthy Books, Obsession is a Book, Readers Candy for taking another chance on a nobody. I cannot express how important you all are to me. Without you I would still be talking to myself on a lonely Facebook page. You all have my highest respect and eternal friendship. I thank you!

  To my editor: Pamela Snyder, thank you for not only doing a wonderful job, but for loving the story and digging some of my silly quotes.

  Arijana Karcic, with Cover It! Designs, thank you for another stunning book cover. I know you weren’t sure about where I was taking us, but this spectacular and distinctive cover is absolutely what I envisioned. You’re such a badass!

  So many Indie Authors inspire me daily through the interwebs that I can’t name each of you, but if we’ve ever had a conversation you should count yourself in this form of appreciation. Specifically, Lindy Zart, Danielle Taylor, Merilyn Dignum, and Rachel Higginson–my idol, and her love story in the Star Crossed series that mused Breesan’s relationships and eventual destiny. I do this because you did it first and because of your words, both written and encouraging.

  All the Facebook & Twitter friends, thank you for liking, retweeting, commenting, sharing, encouraging, buying and loving BE ALL, and then begging for more adventures on Willow Island. I am beyond blessed because of each of you and I adore you all. I
read, laugh and sometimes cry at each of your Amazon and Goodreads reviews. Bless you for taking time out to honor me.

  Thank you especially to my God for this life, these and all the other unmentioned characters and storylines, both real and fictional, that you created and brought into my life.

  All This Time

  Prologue

  I say goodbye and turn around walking away from a future with the man I love. I fade away into an angry mob yelling for justice and forcibly guiding me toward the perimeter of the hospital property. These people are hungry for someone to crucify. My heartbreaks with the crush of reality and everything I experienced in the last forty-eight hours. I manage to bury my internal meltdown and steal one last glance over my shoulder. The camera crews flash their lens toward the front steps of the now empty emergency room. Canton City Chief of Police Jackson Summers and his sergeant gather for an impromptu press conference. Echoing shouts of the chief’s name by the reporters, demanding his attention, are the only sounds I hear as I reach my car.

  A melancholy smile spreads slowly across my lips as I slide in behind the steering wheel. I punch the gas pedal, heading west and within two hours I cross over the Alabama state line. Six more hours of driving and I will be on a ferry crossing the Gulf of Mexico, heading back to my home on Willow Island.

  I truly believe in fate, destiny and all the other descriptors that determine your future. I even buy into the whole superstition of taking a bite from a fortune cookie before reading the tiny piece of wisdom tucked inside. The difference between those little scraps of hope and destiny is sometimes fate doesn’t hold up its end of the bargain and deliver everyone a fairytale ending. That is exactly what happened to me. I got a heavy dose of cruel happenstance. Destiny’s design has a hand in every detail that brings me back to Willow Island today. The course of events that leads me back are just as hopeful and tragic as I have learned to expect from this unpredictable journey we call life.