by L. S. Pullen
FOREVER EMBERS
L.S. PULLEN
Copyright © 2021 by L.S. Pullen
Forever Embers
Text copyright © 2021 L.S. Pullen
All Rights Reserved
Published by: L.S. Pullen
Beta Read by: Kirsten Moore
Edited by: Liji Editing
Proofread by: Crystal Blanton
Cover Design & Formatting by: Leila Pullen
Photo: Licensed Adobe Stock
The right of L.S. Pullen to be identified as the author of the work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, Designs and patents act 1988.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters in this publication are fictional and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Contents
Quote
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Letter to Reader
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by L.S. Pullen
“You've a good heart. Sometimes that's enough to see you safe wherever you go. But mostly, it's not.”― Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere
Chapter One
Charlotte
Shifting the bags into one hand, I manage to get the door open without incident before transferring the one with the wine back to the other hand. It’s quiet when I enter, and there’s no one around. The front door was unlocked, so my boyfriend––Shaun––is likely still in his office. I’m about to call out when a noise catches my attention—a muffled groaning sound.
Hesitantly, I creep forward until I reach Shaun’s office door. It’s slightly ajar, and through the crack, I see him sitting; the chair pushed away from his desk. It takes me a moment to work out what is wrong with the picture I’m seeing, and when I do, I’m sick to my stomach. Between his thighs, there’s a woman on her knees. Unable to move for a voyeuristic moment, I stare, listening to him grunting in pleasure as he pulls her hair and fucks her face.
The weight of the bags in my hands reminds me why I’m here, and my surprise quickly turns to anger. Snapping out of my frozen state, I not so quietly shove the door open, and his eyes bounce to mine. I see red when he doesn’t even have the good grace to look remorseful. Instead, his lips curve into a sleazy smile, and he shudders whilst coming in her mouth.
“What the fuck?” I say, and before I can stop myself, I launch the carrier bag holding his favourite overpriced Chinese takeaway at him. It narrowly misses, exploding in a messy heap beside them both.
Kelly, his admin assistant, scrambles to her feet wide-eyed and an expression of shock plastered on her face. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and I push down the urge to throw up. I’ve always been nice to her, which makes this situation even worse.
Shaun stands, shoving his limp dick back into his trousers as he surveys the chicken chow mein and beef in black bean sauce strewn across the putrid beige carpet.
Good, I hope it fucking stains.
“I’m so sorry,” Kelly stutters, her eyes dancing between Shaun and me.
So much for women supporting women. Her fake-arse apology only intensifies an internal burning rage that’s so foreign to me. I’m a paramedic, for fuck’s sake, I help people.
But right now, the urge to cause Shaun bodily harm is real.
“You fucking cheating bastard!” I hurl the prawn crackers at him, but he swats them away easily.
“What did you expect?” he says, tightening his belt buckle before adjusting his shirt. “You were never fucking present.”
What the actual fuck?
He doesn’t even attempt to be contrite. Up until this moment, I had always thought Shaun was handsome with his blue eyes, blond hair and his perfect fucking veneers. Seeing him now, arrogantly unapologetic, all I see is ugliness, and my entire body vibrates with adrenaline.
“I expected you to be monogamous, for starters,” I reply.
“You expected me just to sit around and shrivel up?” he says, raising an eyebrow in a challenge, and it only fuels my anger. Granted, it’s been over a month since we slept together, but between my shift work and him working late, it’s been hard.
I propel the carrier bag holding his favourite red wine, which I swear leaves fucking fur on your teeth. This time he has to dart out of the way, so it doesn’t hit him. The bag splits, and the bottle shatters against the wall. I watch with some sense of satisfaction as it rains down, dripping all over the top of the cabinet.
“You crazy fucking bitch,” he says, his voice laced with venom. “You’ll fucking pay for that.”
“Fuck you I will.” I turn on my heels and call out over my shoulder, “Safe to say we’re over.”
I’m angrier with myself for ever trying to please someone like him in the first place. I’m exhausted from finishing a week of night shifts and only managed to grab a few hours of sleep this morning. And yet, I still drove forty-five minutes out of my way to surprise the arsehole.
My clothes itch and are suffocating me now. God, I loathe how I dressed just to please him.
“You were shit in bed, anyway. Why do you think she was sucking me off in the first place?”
I stop in my tracks and spin back to face him. Kelly’s standing, her mouth agape, not sure what to do with herself. I’m still trying to work out if she’s a victim or not.
“You probably manipulated her and told her what she wanted to hear, just like you did with me. And F-Y-fucking-I, you never once got me off, you fucking sack of shit. I think that says more about you than it does about me. Good luck, Kelly. You’re going to need it with this prick.”
And this time, I walk away without looking back.
I drive in a rage-filled haze, daring anyone to be dumb enough to pull out on me or get up my arse as I make my way home. Before Shaun, my relationships barely lasted a couple of months, a few weeks at the most. But he was a persistent bastard; I’ll give him that.
When I walk through the front door, I slam it so hard behind me the picture in the hallway rattles. I pause a moment, expecting it to come crashing down, but thankfully it stays put. I kick off my flats, annoyed at myself for not wearing heels. It’s not even like I towered over him when I wore stilettos or wedges.
“What the fuck?” Violet comes rushing out of her room in only a pair of knickers. I’m not even
phased by it anymore. The girl doesn’t give a shit about covering up in front of me.
“Sorry,” I say.
“What the hell has you so upset?” she asks, holding up her finger before disappearing and then reappearing as she pulls on her work shirt, sans bra.
“Just caught Shaun with his dick down Kelly’s throat.”
Her eyes go wide before she bursts out laughing.
“Thanks,” I say and walk off into the living room, grunting as I fall onto the sofa and cover my lap with a cushion.
“Sorry, it’s just not a visual I want to think about. He’s such an arsehole. I told you ages ago just to dump him.”
I clench my jaw. The last thing I need is an ‘I told you so’ from my best friend, but she’s always been about the tough love.
“I know, but I kept thinking it was me who was the problem, you know?”
She leans her head on my shoulder.
I chew on my fingernail and let out a huff. “And I just wasted fifty quid on his favourite takeaway.”
“Where is it?” she asks, leaning over me to check by the front door.
“I threw it at him, along with that nasty red wine he likes.”
She pouts. “Next time, toss the wine and hold onto the food. That’s just a waste.”
I scoff at that, thinking how I’d sip that shit just to pacify him, and the thought grates on me.
When did I become that woman?
I never thought I’d be one to change to accommodate a man, but I have. Barely any makeup, a long top covering my arse and cleavage, and a pair of skinny jeans, even though it’s the middle of fucking summer. Apparently, my outfits were too revealing. He didn’t like other men staring at what’s his, so I started to cover up. I scoff at that, because it’s no easy feat––I’m a busty woman with thick thighs and an arse.
“That’s going to be an interesting clean up. And there won’t be a next time.”
She smiles in solidarity. “Amen to that, sister, and it serves him right. It’s karma if you ask me.”
I rest my head back and close my eyes.
Vi bounces up, and I turn my head, squinting out of one eye, her face way too close to mine for comfort. What is it with this girl and personal space?
“Fuck it. I say you come out tonight and celebrate your freedom.”
I shake my head. “You’re working,” I retort.
“And your point?” she asks, eyebrows raised.
And the truth is, I don’t have one, and anything has to be better than moping around here. I mean, it’s not like I have a broken heart, I know what that feels like, and this is not it.
“Fuck it, why not. Let me go change.”
She gets to her feet, pulling me up with her. “Damn straight.” She swats my arse and pushes me towards my bedroom.
“Hurry up. My shift starts in half an hour.”
Ridding myself of what I’m wearing, I rifle through my drawers and smile when my fingers connect with my favourite faded jean shorts, followed by a plain white vest top. I then dig around in the bottom of my wardrobe for my wedges. Fuck Shaun and his straying dick, from this moment on, I refuse to be anyone but me.
I’m angrier with myself than him. I should have listened to my gut—it’s not like we were soul mates. And I can see them more clearly now, the red flags. I sure as hell am no longer going to feel guilty about all the times I was so closed off.
I learnt the hard way that nothing lasts forever, even if I do enjoy a romance book and am a sucker for a ‘happy ever after.’ Hell, maybe it’s some kind of warped trauma response—enjoying the fantasy of something you won’t ever have. After being separated from my brother––Olly––at such a young age when our parents died, I struggled to open up. But my foster parents adopted me, and it was only when I got sick and ended up in hospital that I began to let them and my adoptive brother––Alfie––in.
It's where I met Violet and her brother, Max. He and I were both having treatment… I’m flooded with a sense of nostalgia as my chest becomes tight. I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, refusing to allow the memories to resurface like they always do when I think of Max.
Instead, I pull out my makeup bag with determination and brush on a little powdered foundation to take away the shine, followed by a few good strokes of my mascara wand, lengthening my lashes. A light coat of eyeshadow, and then just to give Shaun the final up yours, I coat my lips in a deep red lipstick, smacking my lips together. My violet eyes pop, and the shiny painted lips against my red hair says fierce to me.
Your loss, Shaun.
Giving myself a final once over in the mirror, I slip into my wedges, loving the way they elongate my legs. Fuck you Shaun and your little-dick-man syndrome. For a second, I debate donning a pair of stilettos to really show him but decide the wedges will be safer for all the dancing I plan to do. As a paramedic, my day-to-day footwear consists of steel-toe-capped boots, so I don’t fancy punishing myself with a week’s worth of blisters. Reaching for my kimono, I go to pull it on and then say, “Fuck it” and drop it back over the chair and swap my purse into my small clutch. I refuse to hide my body.
Just as I leave my room, Vi meets me in the hallway.
She gives me a once over and whistles.
“Fucking hell, girl, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d be all over you,” she says, swatting my arse before grabbing her duffel bag. “Don’t forget I’m out after work, so let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll get Marco to get his brother to take you home.”
Even though we’re literally within walking distance from the club, we have a girl code when it comes to getting home safely. Luckily for us, Marco––the bar manager––has a brother who owns a local cab firm.
“Let's do this,” I say.
Because tonight, I’m free to be unapologetically me, without worrying about my image-conscious boyfriend—or more importantly, ex-boyfriend.
Chapter Two
Ethan
The music is cranking. It’s wall to wall crowded, and with the lights low, the dance floor can barely be seen––which is the point, I guess. Nathan, my cousin, pretty much dragged me to this new club. It was this or sit in my old childhood room at my mum’s house, moping after my best friend—the woman I let go over a year ago—the one whose heart I broke. Instead, I’m nursing a glass of coke, watching random people dancing, laughing, and joking around as they get even more intoxicated.
He disappeared to take a piss over twenty minutes ago. Fuck knows where he’s got to. He’s probably pulled some woman and got distracted. So, here I am, leaning against the bar, letting my eyes roam around the crowded club, trying to decide if I should just leave when a voice talking loudly over the music catches my attention.
“I already politely said I’m not interested three times, Vi. Three,” she says, exasperated.
The sound of her voice has me turning to my side, straining to hear her talk again.
“Oh, come on, the best way to get over someone is to get under them,” comes the reply from a woman behind the bar.
“Not helping,” she replies, but I hear the smile in her voice. “Besides, I’ve learnt my lesson. Shaun was a mistake.”
I move, desperate to get a glimpse of the woman behind the rich and silky-smooth voice, but her back is to me. My eyes roam down the length of her body. Her red hair is loose down the middle of her back. A white top that glows like a beacon under the fluorescent lighting is tucked into a pair of denim shorts, leaving her long legs exposed down to a pair of wedges. Damn, if she doesn’t have curves in all the right places…
I’ve never considered myself a legs man before, or so I thought. An image of those legs wrapped around my neck while I pleasure her with my tongue pops into my mind and makes its way straight to my dick.
What the hell?
Just then, as if sensing my eyes on her, she turns her head. Her eyes meet mine and––fuck me dead on Sunday––piercing blue-violet orbs stare back at me.
>
A slap on my back pulls me from her hold over me and brings me back to reality. I turn to Nathan, his face staring down at his phone as he types away before glancing up.
“Sorry, man, something’s come up. I need to go. You ready to split?” he asks, but he’s distracted and eager to get out of here.
“Nah, I’ll stay a bit longer. It’s cool, man.”
He nods, bumps his fist with mine, and before I even get the chance to say bye, he’s disappeared into the swarm of people.
When I look back, I can no longer see the woman who caught my attention, and disappointment washes over me. Scanning the crowd, I spot her, swaying her hips, hands in the air as she dances to her own beat. Her eyes are closed, caught in the moment. And damn if I’m not captivated and fixated by her every move.
And that’s when I see a guy gazing at her in a lascivious way as he moves closer—too close. Her back is to him as he puts his hands on her hips. Her entire body tenses, and I stiffen when she shakes her head at him. But he continues forwards. Abandoning my drink, I ease my way into the sea of clubbers, drawn to her in a way I can’t explain, determined to make sure that prick understands the word ‘no.’
Chapter Three
Charlotte