CARA L. SILVER
A Broken Past
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © 2020 by Cara L. Silver
Cover Design: Cara L. Silver
ISBN-13: 979-8695702972
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher, except for brief quotes used for reviews and certain non-commercial uses, as per copyright laws.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
To those who believed in me.
“At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”
-Albert Schweitzer
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
My high school graduation should be one of the happiest days of my life. Should be. Unfortunately, having my family here makes it anything but. I guess I should just be glad that they even showed up.
My mother and I have never been on great terms. I have spent my entire life trying to make her proud of me but have never succeeded. She favors my sister over me, always has and I’m sure she always will. I don’t think that will ever change.
Minutes after the graduation, my sister disappears. No surprise there. Why would she stick around? I mean, it’s not every day that her younger sister graduates but I’m assuming her boyfriend is more important. My mother comes over to me and gives an awkward hug.
“Congratulations.” She says it out of obligation. Even when she tells me she loves me; it doesn’t seem like she means it.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you coming home? Your sister needs your help with her resume.” You have to be kidding me. I just graduated and here she is asking me to help my sister with something. Nothing ever changes.
“Shouldn’t she do that herself? It is her resume, not mine. Besides, I have plans with my friends.” I scoff.
“Don’t be like that. Your sister needs you.” That’s the thing. Everyone needs me but no one is ever here when I need them. No one ever cares about me.
“I have to go. I’ll see you later.” I wave and walk away from her. Normally, I would have gone home like a good girl and do as my mother says, but not today.
So many times, I have wanted to tell her that I got accepted to USC with a full scholarship. But something deep down told me that it would be pointless, and she would just make me feel guilty for leaving her.
Instead, I saved a bunch of money and got myself a plane ticket to get the heck out of here. That’s right. I’m leaving all of this behind and moving to sunny California. No more snow. No more cold weather. But best of all, no more drama and no more dealing with them and their bullshit.
I’m done being stepped on by everyone around me. It’s time for a fresh start. I’m finally saying goodbye to the old Danika McKinley to make way for the new me.
Chapter 1
"I said No! I don’t want to do this. Stop!” My feelings are perfectly clear, but he won’t stop. I try to push him away, but he is so much bigger than I am and a hell of a lot stronger.
“You know you want it” He shouts in a demanding voice. The sound vibrates my entire body. I still try to push him off me but it’s no use, I can’t fight him, and I definitely can’t reason with him. So, I give up and just stare at my white popcorn ceiling and let him continue what he’s doing. He finishes, puts his clothes back on and just like that he is gone… and I am left feeling alone, cold, and ashamed.
My eyes open abruptly. I look over at the clock and it is 2:00 o’clock in the morning and of course I am drenched in sweat, again. The nightmares just keep coming back. Instead of trying to go back to sleep, I just sit on my bed against my headboard, awake holding my knees to my chest and cry. It has to get better, right?
At some point, I dose off and wake up again to the sound of my alarm. I get out of bed and sluggishly make my way to the bathroom to get ready for my first class of the day. I head over to the shower stalls and take a quick shower. When I get out of the shower, I look in the mirror to see the mess I have to work with. The reflection that looks back at me seems to be typical lately. My almost black, wavy hair hangs midway down my back. My face appears tired and I have huge dark circles under my dark brown eyes. Luckily, I seem to be the only one in the bathroom at the time, so I don’t need to worry too much about judgment. I walk back to the room, I pull out my makeup bag and cover up my imperfections so I can be “Little Miss Perfect”, or at least I try to be but I still could never get my mother’s approval. Trying to live up to her expectations has been a struggle since I was in junior high school, but I have become a master at hiding my issues.
My roommate is just staring at her computer. Sarah seems nice enough, but she keeps to herself, when she’s here. She always seems to look like “Barbie”; with her long blonde hair, blue eyes, and her make-up always perfectly done. I do not think I have seen her not look gorgeous. We haven’t really held a full conversation since we moved in together and honestly, I’m not exactly the extrovert who loves social interactions so I’m okay with it. Judging by the few times we have interacted; she seems to be quite the opposite of me. Though, it would be nice to have someone to share things with.
I say “goodbye” but only receive a small wave without any further acknowledgement. Her eyes never leave the computer screen. Maybe one day we can be friends, but I am still afraid to let anyone in. I am still broken, and I am afraid someone will break me even more if I let my guard down. I don’t think I can pick up anymore pieces of myself.
I leave my dorm and walk to my “Econ” class. I moved to California to attend USC to have a fresh start. But on days like today that start with those awful nightmares, it just seems that I am the same old Dani and that will never change no matter how far away I am. It is all really taking a toll on me.
At least the sun always seems to shine here, and it is wonderful to see palm trees instead of snow. The campus is beautiful and always so clean and perfectly maintained. Anything is better than living with my family that I can never seem to please. But I have been here for two months and still don’t seem to fit in. I don’t seem to fit in anywhere. I never have and don’t think I ever will.
When I arrive to my class, I just slump into a seat and wait for the professor to start the lecture. I sit pretty close to the front. I save the front row for the true suck-ups, but I still want to be close enough to make sure I get all the information. Professor Mullens seems pretty cool and down to earth which is always a good thing for a class that’s first thing in the morning. He isn’t too bad to look at either. He is tall, probably about six foot two inches and is the youngest professor I have ever seen. He looks like he should be on a billboard somewhere with his dark hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes. If I have to guess, he probably had just gotten his degree and began at USC shortly after, because he doesn’t look like he is much
more than twenty-five. His class is extremely entertaining since girls seem to hover around his desk and just flirt non-stop until he tells them to sit down. It is quite amusing to watch and I usually just snicker to myself when they have to turn around looking defeated and mosey back to their seats. I hate economics, but the comical entertainment and the eye candy makes the class tolerable.
At the end of his lecture, I walk up to his desk to turn in my assignment and he gives me a quick smirk that makes my insides twitch.
“Thank you, Ms. McKinley.” He smiles almost seductively.
I smile and nod as I walk away. Holy Crap. He really knows my name? I would never think that with all the students he must have to deal with. And not to mention, that smile. Was it really flirtatious or I am just imagining that part? Obviously, that is a crazy thought, but I will say this, he is very easy on the eyes. I quickly walk out the door, trying to hide my giddy smile.
After class, I make my way to the local Bistro for work. I am still a little flustered, but I have an eight-hour shift ahead of me, so I have to get my shit together. I definitely can’t be feeling like some nitwit with a crush while working. I might end up walking into a wall or a table.
The Bistro is a quaint little place. The owner, Gary, is a sweet older man with a heart of gold. I walked in a couple of months ago, when I first moved to California and practically begged him for the job. At first, he said that he didn’t have anything available, but I couldn’t take no for an answer. The Bistro is the closest place to my dorm that didn’t seem awful to work at. I would come in and ask daily if he had any openings.
My savior, Gary Haskell, finally agreed to let me work part-time, which, thankfully, is all I really need. I had managed to get a full scholarship to attend USC, but I need money for my books, food, and any other necessities.
Not to mention, that I am still trying to save up for a car. Living in California without a car is beginning to be a nuisance. I am basically trapped at the campus and I have to walk everywhere. The campus is enormous, but most of my classes are relatively close to my dorm. The upside to walking everywhere is that it keeps me in shape.
“Hi, Danika” Gary whispers as I walk into the Bistro.
“Please call me Dani. How are you today, Gary?” Hoping my frustration doesn’t radiate in my tone. I hate being called by my full name. It reminds me of home and the life and people I left behind which I am trying so hard to forget.
“Still on this side of the dirt, so I can’t complain.” Gary replies and smiles.
I smile back at him as I bus and clean the tables that no longer have patrons at them. I put on my apron and mentally prepare myself to serve a bunch of entitled trust fund kids. Most of them I recognize is passing around campus. It’s usually the same crowd and more times than not, they leave crappy tips. But I have to keep a smile on my face and hope they don’t notice that I really can’t stand most of them.
The Bistro is a small place that has about ten tables and Gary recently updated the interior to reflect more of a French décor. It has freshly painted tan walls with a faux stone accent wall. There are even French styled posters hanging on the walls to give it a Parisian feel.
I really enjoy working here and Gary is like the father that I never had, well the father that never cared enough to be in my life. We have bonded a lot over the last couple of months. I think he is lonely. His wife passed away twenty years ago, and they never had any children. He is always trying to get me to leave early so I can make some friends, since I am new to the area. I always refuse because Los Angeles is definitely way out of my comfort zone to go venturing off. And I really just want to work to make some extra money and I have little to no interest in trying to mingle with random people. That is not what I am here for. I am dead set on just getting through school and work without any interruptions. My scholarship is dependent on me keeping up my grades so that is my one and only priority.
It is extremely busy for a Monday, but at least it makes the day go by rather quickly. Around 1:30, the rush starts to die down a bit and I am about halfway through my shift. I am abnormally exhausted. I wonder how I am going make it through the next four hours.
Just as I am cleaning up after my last table before my break, a group of guys appears at the door. They look to be about my age. Most of them, I recognize from classes or from walking around campus, but there is an unfamiliar face. My heart jumps a little at the sight of him, since I don’t think any person should be that beautiful. Actually, the word beautiful doesn’t even do him justice. He’s magnificent. He is tall, I’d say probably around six foot three or maybe even a little taller. And I think I can see his abs through his shirt. Scratch that, I can definitely see his abs through his shirt. If he isn’t an athlete, he should be. His dark brown hair is slightly spiked with a little bit of wave. I try not to be too obvious but when his alluring chestnut eyes meet mine, I seriously think I lose consciousness for a minute. I definitely stare at him for way too long; before I figure out what I am doing. I am pretty sure I may even be drooling a little, but I quickly snap out of it. There is no time for gawking. I have a job to do. Holy Crap. What is wrong with me today? First, Professor Mullins and now my mysterious man. My? Really? I don’t even know his name and I am somehow claiming ownership of him. Yikes. I have lost my mind. Maybe I got a fresh batch of female hormones today.
“Let me pull two tables together for you.” I say to them trying to get some professionalism back.
The mystery man grabs one of the tables and slides it toward the one I’m pushing. So, I hesitantly look over without trying to make eye contact and say, “Thank you.” I certainly don’t want to start drooling while he is this close to me, but I can feel the heat from his body pulling me in, like some sort of hot body beacon.
Gary comes over and tells me to take a break, so I take him up on the offer and let him take care of the table. I already feel red and flustered and am clearly in no condition to interact with the gorgeous guy. I quickly grab my favorite book of poetry and a sandwich. I try to hide behind the counter to get a few minutes to myself. Of course, this is just a pathetic attempt to clear my head from the beautiful man that just walked in and gave me goosebumps all over. It is extremely hard to concentrate because I can hear them banter back and forth from their table.
When my break is nearly over, Gary asks if I can finish up the slip for the table of guys. I finish up my last bite of sandwich, close my book and go over to the register to finish up the slip.
As I bring the slip out in the leather holder, I try to be polite and not make a fool out of myself. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
I recognize one of the guys from my English class. Toby says with a smirk, “I’ll take your number.”
“I’m flattered, but I meant something off the menu.” I can feel the sassiness in my reply. I hate being put on the spot, so my defenses are already up. He’s cute. Not even close to his friend, but still cute. More in like a I can be your friend sort of way. He has light hair, closer to blonde, but not quite blonde. He is also tall, but not as muscular. Regardless of how cute, I just don’t have energy for any of it.
“I told you, you couldn’t get her number, jackass.” The strong and deep voice matches his dark and mysterious appearance.
“Can you help me out here?” I can see the defeat in Toby’s eyes as he gazes back at me.
“Well, I guess I can do you this one favor…” I write down a fake number on the slip and hand it to him. He probably isn’t going to try to call anyway. I’m sure he just wants to impress his friends with some added gloating of getting the girl. And I probably will never see him again, so I don’t really think too much of it.
“That means you pay for lunch, Cam.” Toby belts out as he stares at the now named mysterious guy who sits across from him and slips over the bill just before ripping off the part with “my number”.
Cam looks up at me from his seat and gives the look of desperation that literally makes my heart melt. God, thos
e eyes. He pulls out his wallet, puts his credit card in the slot and hands me the folder.
“I’ll be right back.” I say to him as I take the leather folder back and head back to the register.
I run the credit card and of course I look down at the card to see what name was given to this perfect specimen of a man. “Camden Carter” I mutter under my breath. Even his name sounds hot.
I bring the folder back to the table so he can sign the copy and say, “Have a good day”, as I walk back behind the counter.
After they all leave, I return to clean the empty table and pick up the payment folder. When I open it, I see that he actually left a decent tip. That’s a first for any of the clowns that normally come in here.
I finish up my shift and take the long walk back to my dorm. I am so exhausted. I have plenty of work but after the day I had, I can’t seem to focus. Sarah isn’t back yet, so I run to the bathroom to take a quick shower and slump on my small, twin bed. I grab my laptop and start to watch reruns of my favorite T.V. show, FRIENDS. The show makes me forget about my problems somehow.
I hear a notification “ding” and see that I received an email on my school address from someone I don’t recognize. I am usually really good about not opening random emails, but something inside tells me that I need to open this one.
The email just reads…
You owe me a lunch!
I am so confused. I have the urgency to reply even though I know I shouldn’t…
Excuse me? Who
the hell is this?
You tried to be clever
A Broken Past Page 1