by Adams, Kira
He reaches out, caressing my face. His lips meet mine almost immediately with a sense of urgency and hunger. “I fucking love you, Bryce,” he says as he pulls away. “I’m sorry for being a jerk.”
I shake my head back and forth. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.”
He reaches under my legs, keeping them spread, but pulling me closer to him.
“What are you doing?” I ask, smiling.
“Well, I’m giving you the apology you deserve,” he replies in a cocky tone and then I feel his warm breath on my inner thigh.
Oh, dear.
* * *
“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?” Tyson asks, running his hand gently through my hair.
We are cuddled up on the bed together, mentally preparing for my court appearance today.
I breathe in deeply. “Eleven.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Tyson props himself up on his elbow, staring at me questioningly.
“I could spend the rest of my life in jail for killing that son of a bitch,” I choke on a sob.
Tyson pulls me in closer, comforting me. “He tried to kill you, Bryce, twice, you were acting in self-defense. Just be you today. Show them how what he put you through affected your life.”
I nod, nuzzling my face into his chest.
“Think of it this way, if you do go to jail, I’ll have a prison wife,” Tyson jokes, raising his eyebrows.
I smack him in the chest. “Oh, you shut up!”
Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I’m either going to spend the rest of my life being punished for a crime I committed, or I am going to be given a second lease on life. I’m terrified how the jury will swing.
“Seriously, though,” Tyson’s voice grows serious. “I’m with you every step of the way. You ready to get going?”
I sigh, my eyes darting around our bedroom. I love this new home we’ve created. I may never see it again, so I savor the time I have left. “Yeah, it’s time.”
He took away your life – you fought to get it back. There’s honor in that. I hope the jury will hear my story.
* * *
“Ms. Turner, I’ve never seen quite an impact as I have today during your trial. Your story was, unbelievable. You had jury members in tears within the first ten minutes. I can’t even begin to imagine the hell you have been living in. The hell Mr. Baxter put you through. You’re a very beautiful and courageous girl, Ms. Turner, I think life dealt you a rough hand, and I think you’ve been dealing with it as best as you can. I think you were a good girl who met the wrong guy. Mr. Baxter deserved the highest level of punishment, and I wholeheartedly believe he got it. Karma is a peculiar thing. As for the charges of Involuntary Manslaughter, we the jury find you innocent on all counts. Furthermore, we are willing to open a countersuit against the state of Arizona for failing to locate and detain Mr. Baxter before he caused any further physical damage to you and your loved ones.”
The courtroom erupts with cheers and it startles me. Tyson jumps up from the bench behind me, wrapping his arms around me, joining in on the victory celebration.
As we exit the courthouse, there are news stations and reporters scattered about, all yelling different questions at me. Flashes are going off every few seconds as my picture is being taken over and over again.
“Bryce! Bryce!” One voice sticks out among the rest. “What are you going to do now that you are free?”
I step up to the microphone the reporter is holding out toward me. “I’m going to live my life.”
Other reporters are shouting out their questions, but we maneuver past them and back into Tyson’s Bug.
Tyson glances at me before hitting the gas. “You were amazing.”
I blush. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Where to now?” he asks, his eyes darting between me and the road ahead.
“I don’t care. Surprise me.”
Tyson grins back at me and then takes off with a jolt.
I have the rest of my life ahead of me. No more tip-toeing through life. It’s my turn to experience it.
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Our love was epic. Our pain was inevitable.
We shared demons, but his were always darker than mine.
We always fought them head on.
Until tragedy changed him, and he lost his way.
I’ll do anything to help him find his way back home.
Things won’t be the same until he’s just Caspian again.
Ginger and Caspian's relationship has always had its ups and downs. Now their greatest loss might bring them their greatest gift. As they work out their grief, accept their loss, and figure out how to move forward, they'll discover if their love can stand the test of time.
*This is a standalone novella and a spin-off series from the Hollywood Timelines series featuring Caspian Norwood and Ginger Teague, characters introduced in The One Thing*
Briana Gaitan
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 or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
www.brianagaitan.info
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Copyright © 2015 by Briana Gaitan
Lyrics from “Ginger” used with permission by Josh O’brien.
First Edition, 2015
This is a work of fiction.
All characters appearing in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead are purely coincidental. This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. They are used throughout this book in an editorial fashion only.
For My mom, for teaching how to love reading.
Thank you for picking up Just Caspian!
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Other books by Briana Gaitan
The Last Thing
The One Thing
Bash
Maria
Ethereal Underground Trilogy
“I’m not a rock star. I’m just a guy. Just Caspian.” -Caspian
I put the car in park and roll down the window so I can get a better look at the dirt road looming ahead of us.
“All the way down there?” I ask, quite certain we’re lost. The lonesome road looks to stretch on for miles, fading into the horizon as the sun peeks over the Rocky Mountains. New Mexico is pleasantly warm, but the terrain is brown and boring. I make a few more mental comparisons to LA before rolling the window back up. This trip is long overdue, and it should be under better circumstances, but it’s not.
Caspian sits up from his reclined seat, rubs his red eyes, and looks around.
“Yeah, it’s a few miles down.” His voice is rough as if he’s been screaming all night. “Keep going. It’s the only house for miles. Can’t miss it.”
I tap my nails along the steering wheel for a moment before pulling onto the road. It’s the type of road that people use to hide dead bodies or grow pot. The type that leads to nowhere except someone’s extreme privacy. Is this what people mean when they say ‘living off the grid?’ How do they get delivery all the way out here? What if they get a pizza craving in the middle of the night?
We’ve been driving in silence for hours, and Caspian is teetering on the edge of something dark. I can tell from the way his knee bounces up and down and how he keeps rubbing his hand on his jeans. He’s a bundle of nerves, but not the excited kind. Every once in a while, he’ll run his hands down his face and let out a horrible groan, as if he were trying to wake up from a nightmare. Sad thing is, this is the worst kind of nightmare. The cold sweat kind that keeps your heart beating for hours
after it’s over. I try to empathize with what he’s feeling, but I’ve never had to go through something like this before. I’m too afraid I’ll say the wrong thing, but mostly afraid of saying nothing. I don’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t make him feel better. Best thing I can do is put on my par acting skills and be here for him.
He perks up as a large adobe style home appears in the distance. His nervous twitches get even worse and for a moment I’m afraid the car will topple over from all his fidgeting. I’m glad we’re here though. I ran out of coffee a few hours ago, and I’m not used to pulling all-nighters. A girl needs her beauty sleep, know what I mean?
As the car stops, I reach out to push his blond hair off his forehead. He rewards me with his signature goofy grin, the only grin I’ve seen from him since the call came. The call that made us drop everything and make the twelve-hour drive from our house in LA to his parents’ place just outside of Albuquerque. When he realizes what he’s doing, the smile fades, and with the loss of that momentary smile, my heart sinks further into my chest.
“Thank you, Deena. Thank you for coming with me.”
He’s the only one who calls me by my given name. To the rest of the world, I am Ginger. Ginger Teague, soap opera actress and most recently, movie star. He kisses the back of my hand before taking a deep breath and opening the car door. I do the same, trying to stay calm. Now that I’ve had a moment to appreciate New Mexico, it’s actually kind of breathtaking. Picturesque in a way. Fresh air and a clear sky. There’s only one downside, the place is kind of dusty, but the house is so distracting I hardly notice the lack of greenery. It’s huge. I mean, huge in a way that you’d expect a billionaire to live here. One would never expect this to be the home of a dentist and a simple schoolteacher. Business must be good.
It could be a southwestern castle with its vista architecture and large stone walls, but it has a modest homey feel to it, just like Caspian’s whole family.
We reach the entrance, and like a man on a mission, Caspian throws the front doors open. Without missing a beat, he falls into his father’s waiting arms as his mother looks on. The scene is heartbreaking and humbling. All I can do is stand back and let them have their moment.
“Pops,” he mumbles into the older man’s shoulder. This should be a touching moment. Father and son reunited after so long, but the somberness of it all only cause tears to form in the corner of my eyes.
The impromptu family reunion continues as Caspian’s other brothers enter to greet him. First Peter then Ed take their turn embracing him. All the brothers are named after Pearl’s favorite books The Chronicles of Narnia. Finally his mother, Pearl, looking exhausted, wipes her hands on her apron and gathers him into her arms. I shift uncomfortably regretting all the coffee I’d consumed on the road. What should be a beautiful reunion is marred by the absence of Tirian, the oldest Norwood brother that I’ll never get to meet.
Pearl holds her hand out and motions for me to join in on the family group hug. I give her a tight smile and move closer. My family was never the touchy feely kind, so their embracing takes some getting used to. I’ve only met them a few times, but they’ve never excluded me. Right now, I want to be excluded. It feels wrong to share in their mourning. I know that sounds selfish, and maybe I am, but I didn’t know Tirian. I wish I had, he sounded like a wonderful man. Nonetheless, in our few short months together, I never got the pleasure. Tirian always missed family holidays and vacations because of work obligations.
“Take care of my baby boy. Take care of him,” she whispers into my ear. “He’s going to take this harder than the rest.”
She’s right. Caspian is the most sensitive out of all his brothers. Edmund is the hopeless romantic and a dentist like his father while Peter is the fatherly one. To me, anyway. Caspian? Caspian feels too much or too little. There is no in between for him. This will be one of the cases where he’ll feel too much and be overwhelmed by the velocity of it all. I excuse myself to the bathroom so they can have their family time. You know, discuss personal matters and cry.
When I’m finished relieving myself, I find everyone gathered in the kitchen around a large round oak table.
“How did it happen?” Caspian asks as I sit down next to him.
“This all feels so unreal. He just got back from another trip,” James’ voice cracks, and he pauses for a moment to remove his wire spectacles and wipe the tears from his eyes, the same crystal blue orbs that all the Norwood brothers share. I only knew the facts about Tirian. He was a pro bono doctor. Highly respected. He and his family moved from place to place to provide health care to those in need. They’d lived all over the world. From the far reaches of Africa to an orphanage in Mexico.
“He and Alyne went shopping for Ryker’s birthday. Some guy at the mall began shooting. We don’t know all the details, and we don’t know why. Dozens were injured. Tirian was shot —” James trails off, and Pearl begins stacking waffles on everyone’s plates. My eyes wander over to the marble countertops that are filled with pastries, cakes, and croissants. It’s clear that Pearls been busying herself in the kitchen to take her mind off the loss of her son.
James inhales deeply before speaking again. “He died instantly. Alyne is in the hospital. Gunshot to the chest. We’re not sure if she’s—if she’s gonna make it.”
“Why are we here and not at the hospital?” Caspian tries to get up, but his father puts a hand on his shoulder, sitting him back down.
Pearl sniffles into her apron. “Well, apparently in-laws aren’t considered family so we can’t be in her room. We were in the waiting room most of the night, but someone has to take care of Bella. I don’t think she quite understands what’s going on. ”
Caspian nods as he struggles to calm down. “Where is my little Bella-bee anyway? I want to see her.”
“Still asleep.”
“And the man who shot Tirian?”
“Dead. The police gunned him down.”
Caspian’s face changes expressions a few times. It’s hard to read him, but I think he was hoping that the gunman being dead would ease his pain, but it doesn’t seem to be working.
With somber faces, everyone moves to hold hands. The reason why goes over my head, and for a moment I think we’re all going to sing a song. Caspian is a musician, after all. Maybe this is where his love of music came from.
“We’re saying grace,” Caspian whispers as he takes my hand in his.
I’ve never said grace before, especially not holding anyone’s hand. Even though I grew up in the Bible belt, my family wasn’t very religious. We were more of the holiday Catholics. Christmas, Easter, confirmations, baby christenings. You know, the events where my father thought alcohol might be served. Caspian had warned me his father was pretty into the God thing, which is surprising because Caspian isn’t spiritual at all.
I follow their lead and take Peter’s hand in my other. I bow my head, same as them.
“Dear Heavenly Father, please give us the strength to get through this terrible day. Help us to remember that everything happens for a reason, and that Tirian is in a better place. Please—” He’s silent for several more seconds, and we wait for the rest of his prayer that never comes. Eventually, he mutters amen.
The rest of breakfast goes by in a blur. I’m tired, nervous, and eager to get some sleep. I’ve spent the past week working on different gigs. Promotions and special appearances while Caspian stays at home, producing and writing songs for different friends. Though Caspian and I have been together for five months, being around his family is new to me.
After we eat, Pearl won’t let us help clean up. Instead, she insists we get some rest. Caspian leads me down a long hall towards my room. Caspian will be staying in his old room next door.
“Don’t they know we live together?” I hiss when I realize the sleeping arrangement.
“My parents are a bit old fashioned.”
He sets our bags on the ground and pulls a few blankets from the antique wardrobe in t
he corner.
“Hello? It’s like a million degrees outside. I don’t want a blanket. Why are you ignoring me? Talk to me.” I grab onto his shirt as he walks past me preparing the room. He pushes me off and straightens out the collar.