All That Remains

by Michele G Miller

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty- Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  A Note From The Author

  Other Titles by Author

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  If you’ve loved the From The Wreckage series

  Killing Me Softly

  Me After You

  All That Remains

  By

  Michele G. Miller

  All That Remains (From The Wreckage, book 3)

  Michele G Miller

  Copyright © 2014 by Michele G Miller

  Kindle Edition

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental.

  For more information:

  http://michelegmillerbooks.com

  Cover design by Starla Huchton of Designed by Starla

  Edited by Samantha Eaton-Roberts

  To my readers. You are MY anchor.

  “When he kisses her, storms rise beneath her skin;

  For she is the ocean, and he is her moon.”

  ~ Unknown

  Fear, guilt, and jealousy all rear their ugly heads as Jules and West strive to figure out what they want now that they've emerged from the wreckage of the storm.

  A year has passed since the night Jules Blacklin and West Rutledge were thrown together by a tornado.

  Now college freshmen, they’ve worked hard to overcome the tragedies of their pasts to start anew.

  As they embark on their future, there is one last obstacle standing in the way of them finding complete happiness: themselves.

  Prologue

  West

  Gilded Copper.

  It’s the color he searches for every time he steps onto the sprawling A&M campus. A fiery red, laced with golden highlights that curl around a slim porcelain neck as it arches back inviting his lips in for a taste.

  Nine months ago, he twisted that copper hair around his fingers as his lips skimmed the slim column of her throat reveling in the taste he could never get enough of. Nine months ago, he climbed behind the wheel of his Jeep to take her back to his place to enjoy more of her taste when an angry addict decided to play chicken with them. Nine months ago, he’d slammed his vehicle into a silver sports car, breaking her body and his heart.

  Seven months of counseling have brought him back to the place where he was his happiest once upon a time. He stands under the heavy branches of The Century Tree at A&M watching couples come and go, holding hands on their way to someplace or another, and it reminds him of her.

  He doesn’t do it often, stand under the tree and allow himself to think of her. He usually reminisces in his room, in private, where he’s able to beat himself up for all the ridiculous choices he has made. In the almost two months since he walked out of the rehab, he’s maintained his distance, choosing to stay at the house he shares with his brothers and Mindy, or on campus at Freemont. Freemont, the junior feeder college across town from A&M where he’d made the conscious decision to start school instead of attending A&M.

  It was a decision not entirely of his own making, but it was a good decision in the end. He’s rekindled one of the many loves he’d given up when his mother passed away six years ago. He is now playing quarterback for Freemont Junior College as a walk on. His first game is a little over a week away. Nine days and he’s not sure how much anonymity he will have anymore. At some point, he has to find her and tell her where he is and what he’s doing. He owes her that much.

  His body is too weary to think of such things. He’d come to the campus to hang out with Austin and take it easy, and yet, here he is, under the tree again, wondering when he will see her. He has no idea if she’ll be here for fall semester or if, perhaps, she’s already there. He can’t imagine her giving up the dream she had to attend A&M, regardless of all that happened. He stands there, wondering what she will say when he reappears in her life. He’s tempted to call Danica back at Crestdale Victory Center, the rehab, and get another one of her pep talks; instead, he decides to skip hanging with Austin and go home. He should leave before he gets the notion to knock on every dorm door on campus calling her name.

  As he prepares to leave, laughter rings out nearby and he pauses as the familiar music reaches him. His pulse speeds up as he peers across the campus to a couple.

  Gilded Copper.

  Every muscle in his body tenses at the sight of her. Darkness is encroaching, long shadows growing everywhere he looks, but there - across the grass walking away from where he stands - God is shining the last bit of his August sun on Jules Blacklin’s silky red hair. The strands are sending off imaginary sparks as her hair swings along her back in vivid contrast to the white top she is wearing.

  A million words come to, and leave, his parted lips before he is able to utter them. The second he comprehends how perfect this moment is, how it must be fate for her to be here at this exact time; he’s also reminded that two inches over is a person walking next to her. Her arm is threaded through his, and as she throws her head back while laughing merrily at something he’s said, her partner turns his head and West is punched in the gut by a betrayal of epic proportions.

  Standing by the girl he once pledged to marry is one of only three people he has always trusted with every ounce of his being. Smiling at Jules, his hand lifting and tugging playfully on her long ponytail, is Austin. West’s brother.

  One

  Seven Weeks Earlier

  West

  “It’s crazy how little you can actually know about yourself.”

  “How do you mean?” Dr. Steel’s ever moving pen stops working over her notepad as she tilts her head up, her small eyes narrowing as she looks at West.

  The first time she’d looked at him that way, he’d felt as if he were a bug under a microscope. Her features always remain smooth, unchanged by anything he says; but those eyes? Those eyes are comparable to the tractor beam from the Death Star; they latch on, and West feels as if she’s pulling every bit of his soul from him.

  “I’m amused, that’s all.”

  She pushes her tongue forward making a clucking sound, once. It’s a tell. One of the many he’s picked up on from her in his seven months at Crestdale. It means they’ll sit there all day until he spills the proverbial beans. He starts to wo
nder if he should have kept his mouth shut.

  “All right, all right,” West mutters, sinking farther into the leather chair in her office. He props his feet on a stool in front of him, the picture of a relaxed man. If only. “I was thinking about it all last night. Football, my mom, the tornado… Jules.” He stops there, because saying her name always cuts him just enough to make him pause, the need to take a breath is overwhelming.

  The pause, the breathing, it’s one of his tells. She’s picked up on the way he pauses every time he speaks Jules name during his time at Crestdale. Dr. Steel sits there quietly and she waits, as she does every time, knowing he will continue on in a moment.

  “I’m glad I decided to stay here this past month,” West admits for the first time out loud.

  “Do you think it’s helped?”

  “Yeah.”

  When Dani had suggested he wasn’t ready to go home and fight for Jules, he’d been angry at first. As if she knew anything about him, about their relationship, anyway. She was right, though. West wasn’t ready to face Jules yet because he hadn’t faced himself.

  “West, do you think you can tell me about the night of the tornado?” The way she speaks with very little inflection amazes him. The soothing monotone words never feel threatening the way everyone else's always does. Somehow, it made her easier to talk to. The family grief counselor he’d seen right after his mom passed away always put emphasis on his name, drawing it out with her southern Texas drawl. Obviously a transplant to the south, Dr. Steel’s sentences are quick and to the point.

  “Again? Haven’t you heard it enough?”

  “I’d like to hear more about your time spent with Jules. We need to talk about her before you leave, don’t you agree?”

  He shrugs, well aware of his issues with talking about Jules. For the past seven months, six required by the deal his dad made to get him out of any trouble over the wreck and the one extra one he decided he needed to admit to his issues, they’d covered all of his issues with his family. They’d yet to discuss his trouble with Jules. That one scares him still. Talking about her means he’s closer to trying to see her, and seeing her means she can say no to hearing him out.

  Reluctantly, he looks up from the leather bracelets on his arm and answers her. “Yeah, we can.”

  She lets out a small sigh, and West can just make out the slow sinking of her shoulders as she releases the air. It makes him smile for some unknown reason.

  “You can begin wherever you want, West. It’s your story to tell.”

  “It’s thinking of Jules and our story that made me think about how little I knew about myself.” She nods; a silent urging, telling him it’s okay to continue. He appreciates the way she listens to him without putting words in his mouth. “Before her, I thought I was maybe a little screwed up, a little depressed still over my mom, angry at the world… you know all that angst-ridden, teen cliché stuff. After her, I knew what I really was.”

  Her brow raises, and her pen once again moves over the pad of paper on her lap.

  “I was wrecked.”

  Two

  West

  “I hated going to the Shack on Friday nights, it was always packed full of football players, cheerleaders, and all of the students who wanted to be around them. The ones who were hoping for instant popularity because they were seen with the cool crowd. Do you know how many girls give it up to jocks in the back of their pick-ups for a chance to hang on their arms for a few weeks?” West asks, his face twisting in disgust. “I hated that scene.”

  “Then why were you there?”

  “I was there before the crowd rolled in. Ironically, I was flirting with a girl who worked there. She was a friend of Lauren’s, and she seemed willing to hang out, so I was waiting for her shift to end. I can’t even remember her name anymore. It would have meant nothing to either one of us.”

  “It?” Dr. Steel cocks her head.

  “Sex.”

  “So you were hanging around hoping to score with some girl you didn’t know.”

  Those words coming from Dr. Steel’s lips sound crass. West nods, stifling a laugh with a shrug. “Um, yeah. Basically.”

  “Basically? Did you do that often? Sleep with girls for no reason?” His brows raise as she adds, “Well, for no reason beyond the obvious ones?”

  He feels the heat in his face at her obtrusive questions, but she looks cool as a cucumber. Her right leg crosses over her left, the tip of her shoe tapping the air to the beat of some unknown song as she takes notes on the little pad in her lap. She is not easily shaken. Her face – similar to her monotone voice - is always a clean slate of thoughtfulness.

  He chuckles at her inclusion of “the obvious reasons” for sex. “I wasn’t a monk, if that’s what you're asking.”

  She clears her throat.

  “West, you just finished telling me how much you hated being around the crowd at The Ice Shack and put down the players who used their status to get sex, but you did the same thing?”

  “No. No, I didn’t do the same thing.” She raises a brow in silent challenge and West squirms in his seat. “I mean, yeah… I did sleep with my fair share of girls, but most of them were friends I partied with. There were no strings attached, no using my assumed popularity to get into some chick's pants. I could list the girls I’ve been with, and they would all tell you we’re still friends.”

  “Friends with benefits, then?”

  He shudders with a smile, “Seriously? How are those words coming from your mouth? You’re a doctor.”

  “A doctor, West. Not a monk.” She laughs, throwing his phrase back at him.

  He laughs with her. Her humor is why he finds it so easy to talk with her. She gets it in a way no other psychologist has in the years he’s been in and out of offices at his dad’s request. She doesn’t look down on him, and she doesn’t tell him he’s too young; she just gets it.

  “So what does my sex life have to do with anything?” he asks after a moment.

  “I’m curious how you felt about these girls. In this month since you’ve opened up to me, you have not mentioned anyone you cared about. With the exception of Jules, of course.” West watches as she flips through a few sheets on her notepad. “Did you not care for any of the girls you slept with?”

  The question makes him feel like a scumbag. As if maybe he is as bad as the guys who use their status as a campus jock to rack up as many notches on their headboards as they can. It doesn’t sit well with him to think anyone would assume he is another prick looking for easy sex. It was never that way and yet, maybe it was.

  “Honestly, I slept with the chicks I was friends with. The ones who knew there would be nothing between us when it was over. I didn’t do relationships. I tried once with Carley, and that was good enough. When we broke up, I decided attachments weren't for me.”

  Dr. Steel’s tongue clucks again. “Until Jules.”

  “Yep.”

  “All right. Tell me the story. Why Jules Blacklin?”

  Why, indeed! he ponders, sinking down into the chair and stretching his legs out. “I saw her standing there that night and I fell for her. It was instant. I was gone before I opened my mouth. I’d known her most of my life; I’d watched her, knew she was with another guy even… but that night when she sat at that table and I looked up… it was over for me.”

  “You fell for her before the tornado hit?”

  “Yeah. In all honesty, I fell for her in the seventh grade. Maybe even before that. But when I kissed her that first time, I turned into a dumb pre-teen boy with a major hard-on and I had no idea what to do. Then my mom took a turn for the worse, and I dropped everything. Like we discussed.”

  “And five years later, you’re finally sitting across from the girl you fell for once and what?” she prods lightly.

  Reminiscing the last year has been a favorite, and most hated, pastime of his. So many things with Jules were perfect and worth the memories, and then there are the things he’d rather forget; the sights, sou
nds, and smells of the wreck that could have killed her. The very wreck that tore them apart.

  “And I gave her crap and fell in love.” He smiles.

  “You saved her life.” Dr. Steel points out unnecessarily.

  “And she saved mine.”

  She taps her pen cap to her lips once and nods. “Why do you think that? Who knows what would have happened that night?”

  West shifts in his chair, looking towards the window as he gathers his thoughts. “I’m not talking about the tornado. I’m talking about life. I mean… yea, there's a chance that if I hadn’t bumped into her that night I might have run and been fine. Or I could have run and been like some of the others who weren’t lucky enough to make it. But, I’m talking about how she saved me from myself. She pulled me out of my shell.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility to place on another’s shoulders. From what I understand, you did the same for her.”

  West jerks back at that. “What do you mean? Did you talk to her?”

  She shakes her head, pursing her lips. “No.”

  “Then, how do you… why, why would you bring her up? Who told you that?”

  “West, it is my job to know all the ins and outs of what has happened in your life so I can help you. You know I’ve spoken to your brothers and father about that time. Now tell me, do you think that’s a fair assessment? You both used the other to lean on?”

  He runs his palm over his face, scrubbing at his tired eyes as the memories come back to him.

  I’ll be your strength, he’d offered her at the vigil when she didn’t know how she’d get through everything. You were my anchor, he’d told her at the cornfield as he explained how he was able to stay so calm when they were trapped in the Grier house.

  “Yeah,” he admits on a shaky breath. “We did lean on each other. We were both so scared and broken separately, but it was as if we were whole when we were together.”