Fire and Ice: Rekindled (The Fire and Ice Series Book 2)

by Delaney, Kiara

  Fire and Ice

  Rekindled

  Kiara Delaney

  Copyright © 2015 by Kiara Delaney

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, facsimile, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Characters, views, and opinions depicted do not necessarily reflect those of the author.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Visit my website at: https://www.facebook.com/Kiara.Delaney.romance

  Follow Me On Twitter: @Crave_Kiara

  Dedicated to Joe Kline.

  You will be missed...

  "We're all going to die, so it might as well be

  love that destroys us."

  -Jonny Ox

  Table of contents

  Preface

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Soundtrack

  Other books by Kiara Delaney

  In The Blink Of An Eye (Preview)

  Preface

  Kellan

  Hailey shifted nervously, biting her lip. The same soft, pink lips I had traced with my tongue dozens upon dozens of times. It was my queue to leave, before I got sucked in even further. Without acknowledging her, I turned and walked quickly out of the building, as I lit up a smoke to calm my nerves, making my way towards my car.

  Before I could get my hands on the car door handle, the bar's back door wrenched open, and Hailey bolted out, running towards me, stopping just inches in front of me, her breathing kicked up a notch from the short jaunt. She breathed out, "Wait, Kellan...I don't want you to go..." she paused before continuing, "Like this. I mean, I don't want things to be like this between us," she stammered out, her eyes pleading with me.

  My mind was telling me to run like hell, as far and as fast away from her as I could get. But she had my goddamn body on overdrive. I don't know if it was the events of the day, my longing for her that I'd tried to bury for so long, or her proximity, but I couldn't take another fucking minute without tasting her.

  I tossed my smoke, and in one smooth move, I grabbed her face with both hands and crushed her lips to mine, forcing them open with my tongue, and delving deep inside. She moaned low, going limp in my arms before she wrapped her arms around my neck, threading her hands in my hair, and digging her nails into my scalp. Our tongues tangled together in deep exploration, desperate for each other, as we both fought for air. The kiss was rough, urgent, and I ended it quickly, abruptly tearing my lips from hers to peer into her hazy eyes as I said, "You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it."

  Prologue

  Kellan

  Jim Carrington. There's a name I thought I'd never hear again. When I left Chambers three years ago, I left in a hurry, and didn't plan on ever looking back. Every memory I left behind in that God forsaken town was painful and putrid. Being in that town was drowning me, and nearly ate me up alive. My last hours in Chambers had me questioning my sanity, and were driving me to my brink. I had to get out while I still had some semblance of my mind left intact. The best laid plans...

  Jim was a good guy, and I left him hanging, but I had to do what was best for me. I was a selfish prick back then, and not much has changed since I've moved to Reno, other than I've managed to get my degree in business, a semester early to boot, and I'm managing an upscale nightclub, which is affording me the opportunity to learn the skills I'll need to open my own place...soon I hope.

  Getting out of the familiar scenery brought me back to true North. I'd forgotten the man I was deep down. Caring and sharing weren't my thing, and it was for a damn good reason- it got me fucking nowhere. And when I'd gotten the call about the funeral, I desperately wanted to shrug it off and say, "Why should I care?"

  The selfish prick perched on my shoulder is trying to convince me that I shouldn't. Like an ice pick, he's trying to drive into my mind what I already know to be true. Caring doesn't amount to shit; doesn't get you shit, and leaves you looking like a moron when you realize it was all for naught.

  Now, contradictory to standing logic, there's an extraordinary amount to be gained by being an exceptional asshole. Believe me, I've been on the path to enlightenment for some time now, so I think I've rid myself of the 'caring' bug, and being an asshole is like an inherent trait for me.

  Caring didn't stop my mother from dying of cancer. Begging and praying to God day after day, as she wilted away in front of me, didn't stop her from dying. Her caring about me, and making my father promise her on her deathbed to take care of me, didn't make him give two shits in the end. What did I get for caring about my asshole father while he slowly tried to drink himself into a coma? I got my ass beat for asking him when he'd be home, so I could have dinner warm for the miserable fuck!

  "You? Cook dinner? What the fuck are you gonna make for dinner? Cornflakes? Stupid kid. I bet your precious Mommy never even taught you how to fry a goddamn egg...lazy bitch. I'll be home when I'm good and goddamn ready. You listenin' to me you little faggot?"

  Oh, yeah...Chuck was a real gem. I was twelve fucking years old! Of course I knew how to fry a fucking egg. And don't think for a second I didn't consider proving it to him and spicing it up with some spit.

  The only thing Chuck cared about was getting shitfaced and letting off some steam while he was on his benders by beating the shit out me. God forbid I ask, "Hey Dad, where you been all night?"

  "You're a nosy little shit. You got some mouth on you, kid."... Caught a beating.

  "Hey Dad, can I go with Jordan to the skate park?"

  "You sure do like hangin' around with that little homo, don't you? You a homo, boy?"... Caught a beating.

  "Ain't you got nothin' better to do than watch TV, runnin' up my electric bill? You think money grows on trees, ya little lazy shit?"... Caught a beating.

  "You know, I swear to Christ, sometimes I think you ain't even my kid."

  (Jesus, I wish.)

  "Maybe your mother was fuckin' the mailman."

  "Don't you ever talk about Mom like that!"

  "You should see your face...bet your real daddy's been walkin' past this door every da
y hopin' you wasn't his kid."

  "Shut up, Dad. You're drunk."

  "Whadyou call me, you little shithead? You callin' me a drunk?"

  "I didn't call you anything, Dad."

  "So now I'm a deaf drunk, huh? You think I'm stupid, Shit For Brains?"

  "I never said you were stupid... Dad, just go to bed."

  "You don't tell me what to do in my own house, you stupid little bastard. I'll beat your goddamn brains in, you little sonofabitch!"

  "Don't you fucking touch me...I swear to God!"

  "Ho, ho...big talk, little man. Whatchya gonna do?...That's what I thought...nothing. You don't have the balls."

  "Shut up, Chuck."

  "C'mere...let me check under your skirt an' see if you got any balls, Daisy."

  "Chuck, get the fuck off me, man!"

  "Let's see if you can take your old man, kid? Whatdya say? I'll give you the first punch, you pussy."

  One punch. That's all Chuck needed. While the fucker writhed around in his own blood, curled up on the kitchen floor with a broken nose, and a mouthful of cracked teeth, I didn't even bother to revel in his misery. You better believe I kicked the dickhead while he was down, too, before I stepped over his fetus-like form, slamming the door behind me, as I left the prison I'd been captive in for the first fifteen years of my life, flipping it, and him off as I walked backwards down the sidewalk. Fuckin' right I did. Why? Because I didn't have a fucking care in the world once that blow had landed Chuck square in the face. I kept walking and never went back. Chuck sure as hell never bothered to look for me.

  Despite my troubled youth, and lack of empathy for those around me, there were people who cared about me while I lived in Chambers, regardless of the fact that I rarely returned the favor.

  Jordan and his parents helped me get on my feet, and Jim gave me a job washing dishes at the bar when I turned sixteen. I hated sponging off Jordan's parents, so I usually ate at work, and even though Jim said I was allowed to have one meal per shift for free, I always stuffed five bucks in Gail's apron when she wasn't looking. She'd covered more than one speeding ticket for me over the years, and even paid my fine to get me out of juvie when I got hauled in once, so I figured slipping the five bucks a day into Gail's apron somehow put me in the black with the balance sheet of justice.

  Favors I could handle, but I didn't do handouts. Owing others wasn't my thing. The only things I did care about were getting the respect I felt I deserved, and earning enough cash to get the fuck out of Chambers.

  But then Hailey happened. Jordan and Hailey happened...Hailey and I happened. And yeah, I cared for her. Shit, I thought I loved her. But in the end, Jordan and I both paid the price for caring about her.

  So why am I headed back to the town that I spent half of my life trying to get out of, and the last three years trying to divest my system of? I can think of only one reason...I'm a glutton for punishment.

  Chapter One

  Kellan

  After I'd checked into the small, but sufficient local hotel, depositing my duffle bag with a couple of days worth of everyday clothing, and a hanging bag containing my suit for the funeral, I decided to head over to the bar and visit my old haunt; mainly out of respect.

  I was still driving my sleek, black Camaro, and she was still in pristine condition. She was the one gal that I could always count on to never let me down, and I treated her like a princess. Princess.

  As I pulled to a smooth stop outside of the familiar bar, an eerie feeling overtook my senses at the thought of entering the place. The place that was basically a second home to me for so long, I had lost track. There was no way I could even begin to imagine the amount of time I'd put in here. So many memories came flooding back to my mind, and an unsettling feeling wrenched in my gut.

  The lyrics of Linkin Park's "Easier To Run" flowing through my speakers had me second guessing my decision to return to the place I once called home, and I had half a mind to turn the car around, grab my shit, and blow town for the second time in my life. Fucking coward. I knew once I entered those doors, half the town would jump on me like the plague. I wasn't exactly in the mood to catch up, or play twenty questions. I was here for one reason- to say my final goodbyes, rid myself of my guilty conscience, and finally move on with my life.

  I took a deep cleansing breath, stepped out of my car, and made my way towards the large double doors gracing the front of the bar, clutching the handle tightly before wondering, once again, if this was such good idea. I straightened my shoulders, standing to my full height, and lifted my head upright as I yanked on the door. Entering the establishment, the familiar patrons, long since set aside in my mind, whipped their heads to gawk at me in awe.

  An unsettling silence set in before I heard the familiar terse voice break in. "Holy hell! Ya act like ya never seen him before," Gail huffed out before hurriedly making her way towards me, standing on her tip toes to throw her arms around my neck, and whispering into my ear with a trembling voice, "Thanks for coming, son. It's good to have you back home." I tentatively returned her embrace, before she continued, "Come on in the back. We can catch up in privacy." Jesus fuck. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Nevertheless, I trailed behind her, noticing a new myriad of faces behind the bar that weren't a part of my checkered past. A small miracle I'd take on a day like today.

  As Gail quietly shut the office door behind us and took a seat at Jim's desk, her eyes glossed over with wetness, as she said, "Sorry, been a long couple of days. Keep thinking I'm all cried out, then seeing you here...shit, Kellan." She turned her head away and swiped a tear that had escaped down her cheek. I honestly didn't know what to say. Really, what was there to say? Death is final, and words don't bring back the dead.

  I looked at her solemnly as she gathered herself. She wasn't one to break down, but I could see this was deeply affecting her. I wasn't really interested in the how or why, but I could see Gail needed to talk about it. "Gail, if you need to talk about it..." I echoed my mind's sentiment, as my voice trailed off.

  Rather than break down into a slobbering mess, she suddenly went numb, saying simply, "Not much to tell. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A classic case of a man wanting to be a hero, and getting in the middle of two guys fighting over a woman," she paused and gave me a pointed stare before continuing, "One guy pulled a knife, and our 'hero' took it in the gut. He was gone before the ambulance got here." Christ. I'm glad I didn't get the gory details over the phone. I had enough shit on my mind without having had to endure the ugly thoughts on the long drive back here.

  "Jesus, Gail. I'm sorry, I had no idea," I said, my astonishment evident in my voice. My curiosity got the better of me. "Tell me you didn't have to witness..." I began to state, before the office door creaked open.

  I didn't have to turn around to see him as he cut in, saying morosely, "Kellan. It's been a long time."

  ******

  Hailey

  I sat on the couch, absentmindedly folding our laundry, as my mind tried to absorb the news of Kellan's plans to return home. My thoughts were saturated with the memories of that fateful night when he'd left me over three years ago. It had taken me months to pick up the pieces after he'd shattered my heart.

  Georgia stood by my side through it all, and I finally took Jordan's advice and called on him for support. He kept his promise...he was there for me when I needed him the most. He had loved me all along, and I was too blind and stupid to see it. He became my rock, and in time, I came to love him too, in my own way.

  In my mind, love came in many forms, and I justified my feelings for Jordan because we shared a common bond; we both truly cared for Kellan with our whole hearts, and he would never be able to reciprocate. When he left, he left the both of us. Jordan merely hid his pain better than I did.

  No one else could connect with our doubts, our fears, our loss, the way Jordan and I could with one another. We tumbled quickly into a love affair, and were married soon after. It seemed like the natural next st
ep at the time, and to say Georgia was happy would be an understatement.

  Jordan was eager to start our new lives, and in some deranged way, I thought it would be the last hurdle to purging my mind completely of even the existence of Kellan Haines. I wasn't thinking about how difficult it would be to cope with the lingering pain, adjusting to married life, going to school, and continuing to work part time. But we managed to scrape by, and I don't regret marrying Jordan. The only thing I regret in my life is the day I met Kellan Haines.

  ******

  Hailey

  I pulled up behind the bar, slid out of my car with purpose, and tucked my t-shirt into my jeans. I was no longer working at the bar as a shooter girl. I'd asked Gail if I could try my hand at bartending, and she was gracious enough to give me a part time position in the evenings so I could go to school during the day.

  Jordan had taken over Kellan's position as leader of the pack, so to speak, minus the callous attitude, and ended up working most days from opening until well after closing. The business had grown at a fast pace, and we usually had enough patrons to keep the staff steadily hopping. Some days it seemed Jordan and I were like ships passing in the night, but we did what we had to do to make it work.