Broken Heart (The Broken Heart Series Book 1)

by Angel Rose

  Broken Heart

  Book one of the Broken

  Heart Series

  By

  Angel Rose

  Legal

  Broken Heart (Broken Heart Series No 1)

  Copyright © 2015 Angel Rose

  This book contains adult content intended for mature audiences only.

  18+ and older.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Professional Editor, Chelsea Kuhel

  MadisonSeidler.com

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1508605225

  ISBN-10: 150860522X

  DEDICATION

  For my Husband,

  You are my Heaven on Earth.

  For my Mother,

  Thank you for always being by my side, you are my hero.

  For my Father,

  For always telling me that I can do anything.

  For my Boys,

  You are my Rock and God’s gift.

  For my Sister (My Best Friend) and nephew,

  Thank you for your friendship, humor and love. No one can laugh

  like we do…no one.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To S,

  Thank you for helping me kick start this book!

  To Lizbeth,

  Thanks for reading the first draft of my book and reading it in 3 days!

  To Linda, Bessy, James, Victoria and Evelyn,

  Thank you for being the first readers of this book and supporting me.

  To Tierra, Ivy and Eileen,

  Thank you for being true friends and for always being there for me when I needed you.

  To Chelsea,

  Thank you for editing my book, I couldn’t have done it without you.

  To Authors, Alessandra Torre, Lauren Calhoun, Colbie Kay, Liberty Parker and Scarlett Finn,

  Thank you for helping out a newbie and for your encouraging words, advice and coaching me along the way.

  I hope you enjoy the book as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  -Angel Rose

  CHAPTER 1

  “Please! Please! Don’t…don’t hurt her!” I could hear myself screaming but my body was paralyzed in silence. I was trying to wake up, but I couldn’t move a muscle. Mind over matter, Jenesis, wake up! I struggled to push my body to roll off of the bed, hoping to shock myself as I

  hit the hardwood floor. I slammed against the cold, oak wood face first as the rest of my body followed with a bang. Dammit! Shit! I lay on my belly, my cheek pressed against the floor, my

  eyes tightly shut as the pain from my head and face radiated throughout my body. I opened one eye first, and then the other. My vision was blurry, and the side of my head throbbed. I closed my

  eyes slowly as tears trickled down my cheeks to the side of my mouth as I thought about my childhood.

  Another nightmare filled with the same intense feeling of panic and fear, still grabbing at that little girl who hid underneath her mother’s bed to escape the monster…her father. My hands were trembling as I lifted myself leaning on my elbow, and using the other hand to rub gently on the

  tiny knot that was forming on the back of my head. I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand as the salty contents covered my lips. I leaned up on my knees and stood, slowly reaching

  over to the lamp on the night table, desperately trying to find the switch. I turned on the light and shook my head. God, Jenesis, you’re pathetic!

  Twenty years old and you’re still having nightmares about your father. I sat up on my bed and leaned my head against the headboard trying to catch the last breath I felt I had. I glanced over at the door as I heard keys jangle and watched as the doorknob slowly turned. Vivian walked in.

  “Oh my God! Jenesis, what’s wrong?” she asked as she rushed to my bedside. I closed my eyes in pain thinking about what I was going to say next. I wasn’t prepared to tell her that I had another

  nightmare. The simple truth was that my nightmares were getting worse, and I didn’t have any excuses left. I grabbed my pillow and placed it over my face.

  “Another bad dream, Jenesis? Answer me, please,” she asked softly as she placed her arm around me, prying the pillow from my face. “With your father?” she whispered as she recognized the horror in my swollen, hazel eyes as the pillow flopped on the bed. I reached out to her, and she

  hugged me tightly. I took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh of relief. I felt safe in her arms, but I sensed her hesitation as she slid her hand through my hair.

  “Shhh…it’s okay; it’s going to be okay.” She held me tightly around my neck. I unraveled myself from her arms, staring at her as I sat up and folded my legs underneath me. I shook my head because I knew it could never be okay…never.

  “It’s…It’s…never going to be okay…never.” I sniffled as my voice quivered.

  “Jen, how long do you think you’re going to last like this before you crack up? You need professional help. Do you hear me? You need help,

  Jen.” Her voice was stern, and her sympathetic mood quickly changed from worried to ‘this is bullshit!’

  “I know, I know. I’m going home next week. We’ll talk about going to therapy.” The knot in my head pulsed. I gave her a quick glance, and then my eyes followed the sound of rain tapping gently

  against the window. She glared at me. She knew damn well I wasn’t going to say anything to my mother.

  “You’re not going to say anything to your mother, are you? What happens when you see your father again?” Vivian walked towards the window as she scowled at me through gritted teeth. She was pissed and seemed angrier than usual.

  “Vivian, please,” my voice pleading, “don’t be like that…I can’t upset him. You out of all people should understand.”

  “Understand? Why should I understand? You’re going to be twenty-one years old, when are you going to grow up?” A shadow of discontent spread over her face. She looked down at the floor shaking her head.

  “That’s not fair. I have to keep the peace. She loves him. I can’t hurt her. I just can’t,” I implored. I grabbed her hand gently as she snatched it away from me furiously. She took a step back away from the bed then turned her frustrated eyes at me.

  “I don’t know why I care so much…you don’t give a damn about yourself. You’re one of the smartest people on this goddamn campus and yet the dumbest fucking person I’ve ever met. You’ve let your father ruin your life for years…and you’re okay with that. He’s beaten your mother

  every day for as long as you could remember; and not to mention abused you, too. You don’t have to get hit to be abused, Jenesis…this is crazy! You know what? I’m tired of saving you from your

  phantom, the monster in your closet…the monster hiding underneath your fucking bed, the father you can’t seem to stop forgiving!” she barked angrily in my face as her brown eyes widened, her

  face inflamed with anger. “This shit is ridiculous, already! I’m tired of the drama, I’m moving out!” she said harshly as she stormed out of the dorm room and slammed the door behind her.

  The slam of the door shook my insides sending tiny stabs directly to my heart. I glanced over at the door waiting for her to reopen it and apologize for her insensitive behavior, but she didn’t. I

  hurriedly walked across the room to the window to catch a glimpse of her before she walked out of my life forever, but all I saw was the rain pelting the campus grounds. I don’t know where she

  went
, and I started to regret this senseless argument. She was my best friend, second to my mother, and I cherished our friendship and the love and understanding we had for each other. No one understood me like Vivian…no one.

  A few days had passed, and Vivian’s absence stung my broken heart. We had a routine of eating breakfast and a casual lunch and dinner together regardless of how far away our classes were.

  Now, as every hour passed, my loneliness didn’t allow me to forget her. She moved across campus, irrefutably, to forget the pain I’ve caused her over the last three and a half years. I was selfish and

  didn’t comprehend how my nightmares, crying, depression, and most of all drinking, ruined her college experience. Unlike me, Vivian was strong because she went through exactly what I went

  through with my father. Her mother was a fall down drunk, too, with an abusive mouth ready to rip through her at any given moment. Though she endured that abuse for years, her inner strength

  was undeniably what kept her going. She was different. She shrugged her mother off and cursed her back without fear or remorse.

  She always told me she didn’t care if her mother lived…or died. She was emotionally scarred from the moment she was able to understand the meaning of “Little bitch,” but she didn’t let that impede on her life, and when she was accepted to Penn State, she packed her bags and got the fuck out of

  there. We both vowed we’d dorm together and fight the demons that wanted to possess us and ruin our lives. She won the battle…but I lost.

  ***

  My pain didn’t subside the following week, either. My midterms were approaching, and this semester’s classes seemed harder than ever. I tried to concentrate on the fact that I was going to go home for

  Thanksgiving soon. I couldn’t wait to see my mother. One more week and I would be home. One more day and I would celebrate my twenty-first birthday. I’d be legal, whatever that meant. I could

  drink, I could vote, I could get married. None of the above interested me except…maybe drinking…no…maybe not. At least not like my father.

  I pretended to read in the common room downstairs, hoping Vivian would pass by to visit Danny who lived on the first floor. How boring. Here I am pretending to read when I should be out with some guy who sent me a dozen roses or white orchids for my birthday, treated me like a queen and

  worshipped the ground I walked on. But no! I had to sit here alone the day before my twenty-first birthday, waiting to see if my best friend would pass by and forgive me for torturing her for the

  last couple of years with my childish nightmares. I never really had a steady boyfriend. I guess I had my father to thank for that. It was hard to trust anyone, let alone a man; my father had destroyed

  the very notion of a Knight in Shining armor. I can’t believe I let him get the best of me, even after all these years.

  I waited a little while longer, contemplating whether I should call her myself. My heart was wounded, and I couldn’t fathom the thought of losing my best friend, my second best friend. I

  loved her; she’s been there for me, always. I went back upstairs to my room, called my mother, and spoke to her for a few minutes. My father wasn’t home so she had a little time to talk. Usually

  when he’s home he’s bitching and yelling at her, making her panicky so she can hang up with whomever she’s talking to.

  My mother and father were planning on taking a “mini vacation” to the Pocono Mountains tomorrow night. I just don’t understand why my mother is still with my father. When she said she

  was going on vacation with him, I was so livid inside. My blood boiled, but I knew I couldn’t say anything to her. She loved him, and I didn’t know why. She loved him so much she was sick over

  it. Why? How could you love a man who beat you every day you were married? What kind of love was that?

  My mother rambled on and on about the vacation and how thrilled she was to get away. She assured me she would call me for my birthday before they left. I was pleased she was excited to take a

  break, she really needed it, but I was fearful about my father drinking. He was such a belligerent drunk. I worried about them both, but I worried about her more.

  ***

  Today was the big day. I slept through the night without having a nightmare, I think. It felt liberating, and I had only hoped that tonight I wouldn’t have one, either. I thought I was going to

  have the recurring nightmare I had every year since I was six. My father squishing my face into my birthday cake, pressing his hand down firmly against the back of my head until I stopped

  crying. I remember as I blew out the candles on my sixth birthday, I got a little too close and the flame singed my little nose, and I began to cry. My father thought I was being a crybaby, so he

  showed me how he deals with crybabies. Maybe he didn’t realize that when birthday cake is covering your nose and mouth…you can’t breathe.

  Twenty-one, not six, no hang-ups, no nightmares, just a day of celebration; a day in which I waited for my mother and my favorite cousins from Brodheadsville to call me and sing ‘Happy Birthday’

  over the phone like they did every year. I carried my cell phone to the bathroom to wash up just waiting for that phone to ring, but...no phone call.

  The excitement of my birthday and the thought of going home in a week made me forget about the birthday calls from my family, except from my mother. I worried a little about her not calling, but she may just be traveling and busy. She’ll call…she always does.

  Some of the girls on my floor came over and took me out into town to celebrate. We went to Damon’s Grill; $3.50 drafts…and I was ready to party! We walked in the bar, and I scanned the room looking for the cutest guy. I ordered a cosmopolitan right away and was ready to party.

  The girls joined me at the bar and ordered fireball shots! Holy shit. I’m going to get wasted. We were drinking and even dancing a little. The music was good and Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO was pumping in the speakers. I looked around at the other girls in the bar with their skin tight,

  skimpy dresses and high heels. It’s a bar for God’s sake, not a nightclub. I was content with wearing a pair of jeans and my favorite pink Penn state t-shirt and pink Air Maxes. I loved to

  dance, and I was good at it, too. I got my loose hips and rhythm from my mother’s Latin side of the family. She could really tear up the dance floor.

  The music pumped louder, and the girls kept buying me one cosmopolitan after another. We stood at the bar cheering “Penn State!” chugging down Pickle back shots, and slamming the shot glasses

  on the bar. The liquor was flowing through my veins creating a brave, self-confident Jenesis. The self-assured Jenesis was lifted up on the bar by her girlfriends and ready to party hard. I lifted my

  t-shirt, twirling it up from the bottom and sliding it through the middle of my bra, making it into a sexy cut-off accentuating my breasts and showing off my flat, tight abs. I felt like I had everything

  under control, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone criticizing me or putting me down. Everyone’s eyes were pinned on me, and I loved every minute of it. I loved feeling sexy without

  anyone judging me, and the liquor ignited my sexuality even more. As I danced on the bar, I noticed a tall, husky guy, with biceps of steel popping out of his t-shirt. He stared me down as I

  swayed my hips from side to side to the tune of Sean Paul’s, “Shake That Thing.” My mother gave me the tools to shake my thing and the breasts and ass to deliver it. He smiled at me, showing his

  pearly whites, and giving me a wink with his baby blues. His blonde hair was slicked back to perfection, and his dimples jumped out at me as he swallowed his drink in one gulp. He stared at

  me intensely up and down with desire in his eyes, as his body gently caught the rhythm of the music. He looked sexy as hell, and I’m sure the alcohol intensified that vision of sexiness and

  maybe even enhanced it, but I didn’t care, I wante
d him to want me and I made sure I shook my ass until he did.

  His look was familiar to me; the same look my father used to give his mistresses when he dragged me along to the bars to meet them when I was a little girl. I shook my head to erase the thought.

  His smile turned into a straight line as he stared at me oddly for a moment. I gave him a reassuring smirk, and he winked at me and signaled for me to get off of the bar. I turned around and kept

  dancing with Stella, my hands sliding up and down the sides of her waist, pressing up against her inner thighs. He enjoyed the show as he bit his bottom lip with lust, then he laughed, and I reached

  out for him. He held me by my waist, and my bare stomach grazed his body. Our eyes met as my body slid down his, slowly, as he dropped me gently to my feet. He shouted in my ear,

  “Hey, I’m Paul.”

  “Jenesis!” I yelled back.

  “Want a drink?” he shouted over the loud music.

  “Sure.”

  He handed me a drink that was lying on the bar, and my eyebrows raised as my lips puckered to the side. I shook my head and waved my pointer finger in his face back and forth, “No!” How the hell are you going to offer me a drink you picked up from the bar?

  “Whose drink is that?” I shouted. He shrugged his shoulders, turned around, and grabbed the nearest girl by the waist, starting to dance. I ignored him, turned around, and danced with someone else.

  We all danced by the bar as the bass of the music shook the bar stools. Stella kept ordering drinks as Ashley and Dina were making out with some jocks from the team near the back. I was drunk,

  my vision blurry, and I could see the guys’ hands all over their bodies. The guy I was dancing with was grinding me from behind so hard I could feel his erection rising. I turned around, motioned

  with my hand, and placed it towards my mouth telling him I wanted to get something to drink. He nodded his head, turned around, and walked away. I was trying to get a free drink, but so far, I was

  batting a zero tonight. I walked over to the bar and grabbed a napkin, wiping the sweat that trickled down the sides of my forehead.