by Lisa N. Paul
by
* * * *
Breaking to Breathe
Book Three
The Charistown Series
Copyright © 2014 by Lisa N. Paul
Cover Design by Mae I Design and Photography
Formatting by JT Formatting
Super Dandy Publishing
First Edition July 2014
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, 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 the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction:
Lagavulin, Godiva, Starbucks, Jack Daniels brand, Vicks brand, The Ritz-Carlton Luxury Hotels, Jean Nate, Revlon, Converse, Chucks, Dionne Warwick and The Psychic Friends Connection, Sharpie Brand marker, Post-it note Brand, Denny’s Restaurant Company, Band-Aid Brand, Zippo Manufacturing Company
License Notes
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One – He Loved Her
Chapter Two – Something Fruity
Chapter Three – Better Choices
Chapter Four – Hot Men With Tight Ends
Chapter Five – You’re HER?
Chapter Six – The Rules
Chapter Seven – You PLANNED it!
Chapter Eight – A Tough Chic
Chapter Nine – Nuttier Than A Fruitcake
Chapter Ten – Just Kidding, Man…Kind Of
Chapter Eleven – And The Other Half?
Chapter Twelve – Dirty Man
Chapter Thirteen – Plain And Simple
Chapter Fourteen – Vicks Vapo Mess
Chapter Fifteen – Bitter Pill
Chapter Sixteen – Fishing, Huh?
Chapter Seventeen – I’m Sorry
Chapter Eighteen – Sweet Man
Chapter Nineteen – We’re More Than Just Friends
Chapter Twenty – No Mercy Tonight
Chapter Twenty-One – How Things Are Done
Chapter Twenty-Two – Call In Reinforcements
Chapter Twenty-Three – It Is Tomorrow
Chapter Twenty-Four – She Fights Like A Dude
Chapter Twenty-Five – Payback
Chapter Twenty-Six – No Raspberry Truffles?
Chapter Twenty-Seven – All The Crazies
Chapter Twenty-Eight – This Punk Own This Place
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Welcome To Charistown
Epilogue
COMING SOON
Acknowledgments
About the Author
For My Moms (of blood and of marriage)
Life has been…wild these past couple years
It’s shown us what little control we really have in the universe.
The two of you have SHOWN me that broken doesn’t have to mean ruined
That true strength comes from the pieces of ourselves we hold on to when the façade crumbles.
And that as long as we are breathing, we have the power to continue on.
I love you, both.
CATE WHITE-KNUCKLED the steering wheel of her Nissan Maxima, staring intently at the washed out road ahead. The quick swishing of the windshield wipers was no match for the torrential rain Hurricane Leo was dumping on the East Coast. Her dear friend sat to her right, imploring Cate to try getting out more than just their work-related events.
“Ells, you know I love you, but you must stop obsessing over my life. Aren’t you the one who always says ‘it’s the quality of the people in your life that’s important, not the quantity’?” Cate released a long sigh before continuing, “I’m content with the way things are. After all, I have you as a best friend, now that’s quality.” The wind howled, punctuating her statement and shaking the car as another bucket of rain slammed against the windows.
“God, I hope the store doesn’t flood,” Cate worried. “I’d hate to go in tomorrow only to find our entire livelihood was wiped away by Hurricane Leo while we stayed at the casino to gamble after the Wilson’s party.” She flexed and tightened her grip on the wheel once again as she drove slowly up the 412 South.
“Catey Cat, the store is fine, and the storm will bring no harm to Shout It Out. I promise you.” Elliot’s voice was full of assurance. “I know you think I’m full of shit, but one day you will believe me. I have a gift.” Cate smiled, giving silent thanks to the darkness that shrouded the car so her friend of twenty years couldn’t see the typical eye roll Cate gave every time her friend mentioned her “gift.”
Elliot was the proverbial All-American girl, with her cork-screw blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes, and Cate’s opposite in both the looks and personality department. Where Cate was the ideas person, finance guru, logical head of reason, and woman behind the scenes of their rapidly growing PR company, Elliot was the sales-woman extraordinaire who had customers eating out of the palm of her hand. She wasn’t fake or just out to make a buck. She knew how to give each customer exactly what they wanted for their business. If a customer had an idea that wasn’t going to have the desired outcome, then Elliot led them in a different direction. It was almost amazing to watch her doing her job.
However, in Cate’s opinion, while Elliot had always been bubbly and overly friendly, since her accident, she had become a little strange as well—with her ominous thoughts and her wayward glances. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s rude. I’ve told you time and time again, when the doctors brought me back to life, things changed. I changed. I know things now. I can’t describe it, but I do. I know the store is fine, just like I know how lonely you are inside.” Her friend sighed, “I mean, look, we’ve been friends since the fifth grade, so there aren’t many secrets between us anyway, but now….now I can feel your heartache, and it doesn’t have to be there. You keep yourself hidden from the world, and it isn’t healthy. And you can keep trying to dodge it, but eventually love is gonna find you and when it does, you’ll know the world is a better place because you met the person that’s meant for you. I just want you to keep your mind open…”
Cate inhaled sharply. The last thing she wanted was an argument with her best friend. An argument that she would be having just for the sake of the fight, because in her heart, she knew Elliot was right. She was lonely. She had been for many, many years. But she wasn’t ready to step out from her dark corner, and if she was being honest, she didn’t know if she would ever be.
“Ells, I’m not saying that you don’t have a…gift or sixth sense of some sort. But come on you have to admit it’s a strange thing for someone to just accept. We’ve been friends forever. Last year when you were struck by lightning right in front of me…” Cate let out an exaggerated breath. Memories of that day would be forever burned in her mind. Watching the paramedics load her onto the ambulance, the sight of her body shudder beneath the electric paddles as they attempted to resuscitate her, and the relief when her chest began to rise and fa
ll with her breaths, that day was branded deep into her soul. It was nestled side by side with the personal horror that changed her life and defined Cate as a person. “By the time the ambulance made it to the hospital, you died on the freaking stretcher. You DIED, Elliot!” Cate’s frantic voice echoed through the car. “By some miracle, they were able to bring you back and since then you swear you can, what, predict the future? I’m sorry, but it seems strange.” She took a few deep cleansing breaths as she focused on the road ahead of her.
“Love and couple-dom isn’t for everyone, Ells. Some people are better off alone. I’m one of those people. Besides, you aren’t with anyone. Why don’t you work on fixing yourself up on a date and let me be? And since we’re talking about your ‘gift,’ if you’re so damn clairvoyant, why didn’t we win a shit load of money tonight at the casino, huh?”
“It’s not that I can predict the future necessarily,” Elliot’s exasperated tone relayed that Cate succeeded in getting her friend to back off the love topic, at least for a little while. “It’s more that I see flashes of things. I don’t always know what they mean or when they are going to happen or for that matter, if they have already happened. But I can…wait…Cate, slow down!! There’s something up ahead… CATE!” The fear in Elliot’s voice took form, leaping from her body to Cate’s and causing the little hairs to rise on the back of her neck.
“What’s wrong?” Cate asked, unease gripping her gut as she dropped her speed even more and cautiously drove around the bended road. Elliot jerked her head as if trying to shake off something unsettling.
Suddenly, through the pounding rain, she saw what her best friend had warned her about just thirty seconds before. Pulling over to the flooded side of the storm deserted road, she gasped at the carnage before her.
“What the hell?” Wide eyed and panicked, Cate stared at the scene. Shattered glass and twisted metal painted the dark area. “It’s hard to see clearly through the rain, so I’m gonna get out and see if there’s anyone in that car, because if there is, judging by that,” she nodded to the wreck, “they’re gonna need help.” She stole a quick glance at her friend as she swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt. “Elliot,” she snapped, unable to hide the heart-stopping fear surging through her body, “Here, take this.” She shoved her cell into her friends shaking hands, “Call 911. Fast!”
She opened the car door and ran through the rain to the only other car on the road. The one that was upside down and hugging the electrical pole like a long-lost lover, the one with the man lying beside it. Yep, that car.
Kyle didn’t think he was dead. There was no way that death could hurt this much. Not even the fires in hell could burn his chest the way each slight inhalation did. He would know—he had spent most of his life trying unsuccessfully to escape the hot blackened pit of agony.
Grunting, he attempted to angle his face away from the rain, but his vision immediately blurred from the pain that shot through his skull. He couldn’t be dead. Living felt like thousands of blades ripping him apart one tear at a time. Living felt like slow asphyxiation, interrupted by small breaths every so often just to make sure that death didn’t come too quickly, too peacefully. No, he had to still be alive.
He didn’t remember what happened or even where he was, but it was dark and wet all around him. His mind spun as he tried to sew together pieces of the day. The warm coppery liquid running from his mouth contrasted sharply with the cold streaming wetness that pelted his chest and arm. He felt heavy, cold and so damn tired. He was ready. He was ready to stop fighting. He wanted nothing more than for the pain to go away, for the guilt to leave his burdened soul, for his heart to finally stop aching, but it didn’t. Instead the cold, wet air sank deeper into his skin, causing tremors to shake his broken form. Every movement was a prayer unanswered. “God, please, please just let me die. I just wanna die.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. I’d never be able to live with myself.” The raspy feminine voice startled him. “Were you thrown from the car? Or did you move yourself?” She asked, her tone gentle but reassuring. The wild hissing sounds of the storm lessened in the seconds after her arrival.
“I think… I moved some, but then I… passed out,” Kyle wasn’t certain if he was dreaming this whole conversation, but even if he was delirious, he appreciated the company and the kind voice if these were to be his final moments on this earth.
“If you can, try not to move any more. Okay?” The warmth of her breath against his battered skin made it difficult for Kyle’s tired mind to focus on the angel’s words. “Can you understand me? You may do more harm if you move before the ambulance gets here.” Wait, she was real? She called for help? Pain seared through him; he felt flames lick his leg as he tried to move the useless limb.
“No, no help.” His voice was barely a whisper while his insides screamed in agony. He knew there was damage, most likely internal bleeding. He felt the life draining out of him, but it was okay. It was time. Fatigue weighed down his body the way his past had weighed down his soul. “I want to die. It’s too hard; I can’t keep living this way.”
“Living is hard, but…” He forced open his lids, needing to put a face to the sexy voice that chose to stay with him during his last few minutes. Not only had this seraph’s words kept him calm, but her face was unlike anything he had ever seen before or maybe he had, and just never noticed due to the lengths he went to keep his dick happy and his head quiet.
There, squatting in the rain was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Her hair, even though completely soaked, was dark auburn and hung over her shoulders. Her smooth skin was probably ivory, but due to the cold wet November weather held a rosy hue. Nothing, though, compared to her eyes. Through the rain, he could see them—incredibly sultry, light brown, almost whisky-like in color as they penetrated him. He wanted to drink in her eyes. Feel their warmth as they flooded his insides and get him high off their beauty. He snickered at the thought—drinking was what caused this mess in the first place—and then regretted his action as the jerky motion sparked even more agony.
Kyle felt the woman’s soft hands touch his scruff roughened cheek. It had been days since he’d shaved, and now even her slight contact had pain roped around him, tying thick knots around his chest, throat, and head. If his pain was any indicator of his physical appearance, he wondered if this stranger was seeing the man who’d spent his life being chased by women. His almost black hair, green eyes, and olive skin had been his saving grace when times were tough and his language when words were unnecessary. Why it even mattered now he didn’t know. Breathing was becoming more difficult, as was thinking, so he tried to let go of the binds that had kept him imprisoned for most of his life and just focus on the beautiful woman before him.
“Do you have a wallet or a driver’s license in your car?” The way her brows furrowed with the question was just as endearing as how she kept her voice soft and her tone light. He admired the strength this woman displayed while taking care of a wounded stranger who would most likely die in her arms. He could barely detect the fear that had to be pulsing through her veins as she continued to stroke his hair with one hand and keep her other on the pulse point on his neck.
“A..are you a…a nurse?”
She ran her fingers through his matted hair and smiled sadly. The awkward silence that followed Kyle’s question led him to believe maybe she wouldn’t answer.
“No.” Her voice was quiet but solid. “I’m just a girl. But sometimes bad things happen, and it’s important to have information with you. It helps to notify your loved ones of your safety as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, right…loved ones.” Kyle instantly regretted the small snort that escaped him, when what felt like a hundred more knives punctured his right lung. He focused on taking tiny little breaths while waiting for the worst of the pain to dissipate. Staring at the alluring face of his angel helped to calm his racing heart.
A web of panic set in for a brief second when she dropped his ga
ze and looked over her shoulder at her car, but the moment her eyes reconnected with his, he felt calmer and more connected. Safer even though he knew his end was near.
“Hmm, maybe she does have a gift,” the woman mumbled under her breath.
“Huh?” He groaned, his injuries making it almost impossible to speak. The woman tucked her sopping hair behind her ear and sighed. He felt a wave of tremors pass through his frame as sleep beckoned him, swallowing him down into quiet darkness.
“Come on. Stay with me.” The woman quickly shifted her body, bringing her warmth closer. The panic in her voice swelled, melting her calm exterior away with the rain. He wished he was able to respond in some way, to tell her he was okay, that her presence made his last few minutes the best he had ever known, but his body would no longer take commands from his brain.
“You can’t die. The world is a better place with you in it.” Her words were soft, almost like she couldn’t believe they were coming from her mouth. “So you need to fight, sweet man. It’s time to fight.”
Those were the last words he heard before the world went black.
He Loved Her
THE NOISES COMING from the garage were loud. The clanking of metal hitting the ground, squeaking of rubber, and the happy moans, both male and female, pulled Kyle’s attention away from the open refrigerator where he’d been salivating over the stocked shelves for an after school snack. So many choices, up for his taking—his kitchen was a hungry pre-teen boy’s dream, which was great because summer school sucked. He hated that his lack of concentration landed him four weeks of math in a smelly, hot, un-air-conditioned building.
When the clamoring in the garage became louder, Kyle grabbed an apple and a sports drink, closed the refrigerator, and padded on the plush carpet over to the door that led out to the garage. He pressed a curious ear to the exit. The sounds of womanly squeals and grunts of manly pleasure brought instant understanding to Kyle’s twelve year old, pubescent body. Knowledge warmed his cheeks. He understood what was happening out there. While he knew most of his friends were grossed out when they talked about their parents “doing it,” relief was the only emotion flowing through his body. Relief that, for once, his father wasn’t screaming at his mother, his mother wasn’t screeching at his father, and he and his brother, Nixon, weren’t trying their best to stay out of the way. If he could have stopped time in that second he would have, because for that one moment, his parents were happy and all was right.