Shattered Love (Blinded Love Series Book 1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  They’re probably going somewhere to get high, drink, and play video games the rest the day. Foreshadowing the rest of their pitiful lives. It was the anger in me speaking, curling into spiteful words. Deep down I knew Hunter was more than that.

  When the last bell rang, I only experienced trepidation. My footsteps moving toward the gym were less than eager. When I walked in, Coach Nancy opened her arms, bringing me in for a quick hug. “Jaymerson, we are happy to have you back. Now I know you need to be careful, but I thought we could use you in front and coordinate it so you don’t have to go up in a stunt or be used as a base.”

  I would basically do fluff moves and chant. Before, I’d been the one doing flips in the air or tumbling on the floor. Dad had encouraged gymnastics at an early age. I had given it up when I turned twelve, but I tumbled pretty well for our routines. Not anymore.

  I hadn’t considered it a loss until now. Thinking about not doing the stunts rendered cheerleading even less appealing. The other draw had been being part of the group, the popularity, the friends, and the unspoken expectation that the captain of the football team should be dating a cheerleader. I recognized why girls wanted to do it, but it wasn’t my kind of fun anymore. And the camaraderie I once felt was now strained animosity.

  “Oh, look who is back.” Savannah walked off the mat, crossing her arms. “To grace us with her presence.”

  Coach Nancy’s gaze darted over to Savannah in confusion and then back at me. She had no idea our friendship had dissolved into gooey tar.

  “How lucky are we?” Savannah glared at me, her voice full on condescension. “To have you back.”

  Let the harassing begin.

  “Well, let’s get started.” Coach Nancy clapped her hands together, trying to end the strange vibe in the room. “I’m going to throw you in. I am sure you will catch on quick. Madison can help you.” Out of the girls, Madison was the nicest, but even she looked less than thrilled at being volunteered to be my tutor.

  I picked up the routine quickly but with little enthusiasm. My mind began to wander, and I lost count.

  “The other way,” Madison whispered, knocking her shoulder into mine. I stumbled, knocking into Chloe, at the base of the pyramid, who teetered. Savannah’s feet slipped from Chloe’s hold, and she crashed to the ground.

  Her butt hit the mat with a thump. It was a little fall, something she would normally laugh off, jumping right back up. She and I were used to going up in the stunts. We both had fallen from two to three tiers up, but the redness blistering Savannah’s cheeks told me she would not brush this off like she normally did.

  “Did you see that?” Savannah leaped up, pointing at me. “She did it on purpose.”

  “No, she didn’t, Savannah.” Coach Nancy swished her hand. “She accidently hit Chloe.”

  “No. I saw her. She didn’t trip.” Chloe not surprisingly backed Savannah.

  “Are you hurt, Savannah?” Coach sighed.

  “No, but—”

  “Then we’ll continue on. The state championships are soon, and I want you girls at your best.” Savannah continued to protest. “Enough, Savannah,” Coach snapped. “All of you take a five-minute break, and whatever issue you have, I want gone. Your problem does not return to this mat. Understand?”

  The group nodded in consent and wandered away to get water or check their phones. I headed for the water fountain, knowing the problem wouldn’t go away.

  “Why don’t you do us a favor and leave? No one wants you here.” Savannah came up behind me. I took a drink, wiped my mouth, and turned around. She stood with her hands on her hips, a snarl curling her top lip. Savannah was treating me like I had betrayed her. She could be flaky and vapid, but when she narrowed in on something—a boy, a pair of jeans, a grudge—she got what she wanted.

  And she wanted me gone.

  “We brought you into our group. Let you be a part of us, and this is how you treat us?”

  “Let me?” I scoffed.

  “Yes. You wouldn’t even be a cheerleader if it weren’t for me.” She tapped her chest. “You can’t dance, and you can barely cheer. The only thing going for you was you’re little and could tumble. Oh, and you were dating Colton.”

  “Be honest. Colton was the deciding factor. Not the rest.” I put my hands on my hips.

  “He was our friend. It’s what friends do,” she hissed. “But you wouldn’t appreciate the concept.”

  “Yeah, Savannah, and you are the epitome of a true friend,” I said so sincerely, her eyes narrowed in confusion. “When it suits you.”

  I saw it a little too late. Savannah’s hot temper coming at me. It was a combination of a slap and a push. What she lacked in technique she made up in ferocity. I flew against the wall, another blow creaming the side of my face. My arms flew up, defending and fighting back.

  “You bitch!” Savannah screamed.

  The air split with the sound of a shrill whistle. Coach ran for us, followed by the rest of the squad, but my fury was centered on Savannah. The anger building in me for so long was finding its way to the surface. I was shorter and smaller than Savannah but I held my own, retaliating with a fierceness that overpowered hers. The anger ran deep and strong. I struck her face, and my already sore hand throbbed harder.

  “Stop it!” Coach Nancy jumped in between us. “Both of you. STOP!”

  Savannah got one more smack in before Coach divided us, her hands held up, holding us back. Both Savannah and I breathed heavily in and out.

  “What is going on?” Coach exclaimed. “You two should be ashamed. You’re friends.”

  “No, we’re not,” Savannah said coldly, touching her cheek with a flinch. “Why are you here anyway?” Savannah yelled, still held back by Coach’s arm. “You don’t want to be. And we don’t want you here.”

  “You’re right,” I spoke. My lip stung. I reached up and my fingers came away wet with blood.

  “Whatever is going on, I will not accept this behavior on my squad. At all. Now start talking before I decide to suspend you both for a few weeks. Possibly from the state championships if our team achieves it.”

  “You can’t do that.” Savannah gaped at Coach.

  “I can and I will.” We all knew it was an empty threat. Coach could not do without Savannah. On the other hand, they had gotten used to being without me and built routines without me. I was frivolous.

  What am I fighting for? The threat of being suspended sent relief down my spine. If I wanted to stay, this should have scared me into wanting to fight for it. But it didn’t. Quite the opposite. What am I staying for? To make my parents happy? To do what people expect of me?

  I patted at my bleeding lip and stepped back. Coach Nancy’s hand dropped, her gaze landing on me.

  “I don’t want to cause tension in this squad. I think I should leave.”

  “No, Jayme. It’s not—”

  I held up my hand, cutting her off. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, Coach, but I quit. I think it’s for the best.” The whole room stood still. Even Savannah seemed stunned at my sudden resignation.

  I turned to leave, but Coach grabbed my arm. “Jaymerson, I don’t want you to quit. We can work this out.”

  “I don’t think we can.” When I smiled, a burst of soreness rocked my cheek. “But it’s not about that. You should have a girl who wants to be here. Who dreams about being on the squad and will give everything to it.”

  “And you are not that person?”

  “No. I’m not.” I pulled free of her grip, walked over to the bleachers, grabbed my stuff, and left the gym. No one spoke or tried to stop me as I left another piece of my old life behind.

  My mother still had my grandparents’ car, but it was my dad who was going to pick me up on his way home from work. He wouldn’t be back in town for another hour. I texted him I no longer needed a ride, omitting the reason why, and jumped on the bus. Our neighborhood had a bus stop at the end of the road.

  Wearing practice shorts, sneakers, tank, and lig
ht jacket I shivered in the cold while waiting for the bus in front of the school. I bundled my coat tighter around me and hooked my bag over my shoulder, dipping my chin inside the warmth of my jacket.

  “Whoa, someone got into a tussle.” The bus driver gaped at my face as soon as she opened the door. “You look too sweet to be getting in a fight.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I retorted, making my way down the aisle to an open seat.

  My mind replayed what happened, reliving the rage and relief. I was glad I finally made my decision about the squad. It was done and there was no going back. Anger at Savannah still bubbled in my veins, keeping me from capturing the scenery as the bus toddled through downtown. Businesses closed at five in our tiny town and most were dark. Night came early this time of year, and the moon already dangled in the sky.

  The bus slowed, then stopped. A familiar strip-mall building with a Reconstructive Fitness & Therapy sign on the door drew my attention away from my internal thoughts. Most days it was open till eight or nine, for all the people who had to work or go to school. This week they had closed for Thanksgiving break, giving their hardworking employees a full week off.

  I assumed to see it dark and closed. I did not expect to see Hunter’s blue pickup truck in the parking lot.

  What is he doing here? Does he not know it’s closed? He was standing right next to me when Justin informed us. Is he driving again? Is he allowed to with his leg?

  But all those questions were pushed aside by a current of rage. The cut in my lip, nail scratches over my chest, and the bruise penetrating my cheek were suddenly his fault.

  The bus doors closed, the driver stepping on the gas. I reacted without thought. “Stop!” I yelled.

  The bus came to a screeching halt, rocking the bus back and forth. I tumbled into the aisle, almost falling with the violent sway. Grabbing my bag, I moved to the back doors. When they opened, I rushed down the steps, trying not to think about what I was going to do.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The front doors were locked so I went around to the alley, trying the door in the back. The handle twisted in my hand. The knob rattled, telling me the lock inside had been broken. I smirked. Hunter could break into a building. Why was I not surprised? I slunk down the unlit passage, nerves heating my body.

  The sound of a treadmill rolled into my ears the closer I got. He broke in to run? How demented is that? I opened the door and slipped in without him hearing me. Hunter wore basketball-style shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead. He grunted in pain, pressing the arrow button up another level. His muscular back rippled through the thin T-shirt. The ass Stevie loved to ogle flexed as he pushed his legs harder. Everything about him sent thunder into my lungs.

  “You are a coward.”

  “Shit.” Hunter jumped, twisting around to see me. “You scared me.”

  “Good.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  His lids narrowed. “What the hell happened to your face?”

  “I stood up for myself.”

  “Who. Hit. You?” Each word was a demand.

  “Does it matter? We aren’t friends anyway, right?”

  He sucked in a deep breath and twisted his head back around, stabbing at the buttons. His legs moved to match the treadmill’s pace.

  “Like I said, you’re a coward, Hunter Harris.”

  “I’m a what?” He slammed the stop button.

  “A coward.” I marched up to the treadmill. “You accuse me of not having the guts to be seen with you, when it’s you who has the problem.”

  He grabbed onto the rails, whipping his head to me. “I’m the one with the problem?”

  “Yes.” I bobbed my head.

  He gave a derisive laugh. “You think I don’t want to be seen with you?”

  “I think you imagine yourself all sacrificing and doing the right thing for me, when in reality you are taking the easy way out for yourself. You don’t stand up. You hide.”

  He twisted fully to face me, peering down. His large frame dwarfed mine, but I didn’t let it bother me. Or at least I tried to appear he didn’t intimidate me.

  “It’s what you do. Disappear into the background because it’s easier than standing up.”

  His eyes flickered anger. “You know nothing about me,” he seethed.

  “Because you won’t let me. You don’t let anyone. I realized I only know rumors about you, little things Colton said, what kids at school say. What’s true? What’s false? I have no idea.” I threw up my arms. “I appreciate not wanting to talk to just anybody, but me?” I pointed to myself. “If anyone could appreciate what you’re going through, it would be me.”

  “Not even you would understand.”

  “Why?” I slammed my hand on the handrail. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Hunter growled something under his breath and faced forward again.

  “I am doing you a favor, Jaymerson.” He hit the start button, and the treadmill jolted forward again.

  My fist curled in a ball and dropped to my side. He punched at the up arrow, his limp growing more apparent the faster it went.

  “Fine.” I nodded more in defeat than in anger. It might have been selfish, but the loss of our insignificant friendship made me even more volatile and unbalanced and alone. I stepped away, fixed on the exit.

  I heard Hunter’s hand slam down on the panel, the machine speeding up. He growled and hit it over and over. I glanced over my shoulder. He leaned forward, his features strained as he struggled to keep up with the speed.

  I should have kept walking, let him harm himself. But with Hunter, I acted first, thought later. Years of my father’s wisdom about conditioning and muscle therapy had absorbed into me. All I could see was the damage he was doing to his leg. Pushing it so hard it would never recover.

  “Hunter. Stop,” I called out, but he upped the motion of the machine. “Hey.” I trotted back over to him, reaching for his arm. He brushed me off, pushing his legs faster. His face contorted and he grunted in pain. “Hunter! You’re only hurting yourself.”

  He ignored me, a strangled cry vibrating deep in his chest. His legs suddenly collapsed underneath him, and he crashed down on the machine. The treadmill flung him off and back against the wall with a loud bang.

  “Hunter!” I dashed over, crouching on the floor next to him.

  “I’m fine.” He pushed himself to sit as I persisted in helping him. “I’m fine!” He batted my hands away and collapsed against the wall, his injured legs stretched in front of him. He tilted his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling, breathing laboriously.

  “What the hell were you thinking? You could have hurt yourself.”

  “Yes, Mom.” A smirk hooked up the side of his mouth, but sadness reflected in his eyes. His shoulders lowered, and I sensed his barriers lowering. I slid next to him, my legs barely reaching his calves when I extended them out.

  The parking lot lights streamed into the dark room, generating murky shadows around us. The treadmill continued to roll, creating a soft rhythmic grinding sound, like shaking maracas.

  We stayed silent.

  As intense as Hunter could be, being here with him was the most real and centered I felt all week. I didn’t have to fake being happy or being all right around him. For one moment I was simply me.

  “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.” His voice was low. He rubbed the sweat from his face, brushing his hair back. “This is all some nightmare, and my brother is actually alive.”

  I lay my head back with a sigh. “Yeah, me too.”

  “But you know what really gets me? Most of the time I’m so fucking furious at him. I hate him for leaving me alone. For driving drunk. For looking at his phone. Then I get mad at myself for blaming him when he was the one who died. I was the one who let him die.”

  I kept my mouth closed, hoping this rare moment with him opening up would continue.


  “Selfish bastard.” Hunter slammed his head back against the wall. “Everyone is right. If one of us should have died, it should have been me.”

  My head jerked toward him.

  “You said it yourself,” he jeered. “Everyone, according to Adam, feels this way. Fuck, even my parents think it. Colton was the golden boy, the football star, great student, loved by everyone, on track for an Ivy League school. Model son. All they see when they look at me is the screw-up and said it’s too bad I wasn’t more like my brother. Even as a baby, he was always the one they favored. The one who was the perfect charmer and would follow in dear ol’ Dad’s footsteps. I never wanted that life, seeing my parents and their shallow, fake existence. I hated it. I hated them. I could never pretend. Colton was great at making them happy.

  I gave up trying after a while. Decided I’d rather piss them off instead. Something I was good at.” A pained smile wobbled on his mouth.

  I opened my mouth.

  “Don’t.” He shook his head, anger steaming under the surface. “No matter how stupid people think I am, I can see and hear. I know what they say about me.”

  “You are not stupid.”

  “When did that change?” he scoffed. “I think I recollect you saying something to Colton one time about me being an idiot. Scary, mean, and a loser also came up numerous times.”

  I cringed and glanced down at my hands. I had said those things. “When I recall the times before the crash, it’s like watching a movie…of another girl…someone who was happily one dimensional. I am no longer the same girl.”

  “Do you wish you still were? The girl you were before?”

  I exhaled slowly, finding my words. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s like before I was living with blinders on. I didn’t even think about the possibility of seeing more, but now that I have, even if it’s painful and cruel, I don’t want to go back.”

  Hunter nodded in understanding.

  “And I’m sorry for calling you those things. None of them are true.”

  “Aw, I kinda liked being scary.” He dropped his head over to look at me, grinning.