She blinked. "Really?"
"I'm giving you a choice." Dr. Green offered.
She nodded. "Let me pack."
"We'll stay at my friend Ricky's for a day or two because I'm sure the cops will want to speak to us, but after that, we're going back to Boston."
Madeline was throwing a few things into a bookbag from under her bed. It was only a few moments then she was by my side again. She interlaced her thin fingers with mine, and I glanced down at her.
"Are you ready?"
She smiled.
"Yes."
Epilogue
“You’re up.”
Turning around, I watched as Sawyer sat up in bed. His shirt was wrinkled from sleep. Those eyes still caused the breath to pause in my throat. Sawyer grinned at me. Walking over to him, he slid over for me. I picked up the blanket on the bed and went back under the covers beside him. He and I both slid down. The pressure of his arms embraced me close to his chest. This hug was home to me. That building I grew up in was never the safety zone I needed, but Sawyer’s arms, that was my peace, my home.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“He’s in jail now. It didn’t take the jury long to find his ass guilty, and he can’t hurt you anymore.” Sawyer whispered. “Dr. Green even found evidence that my dad was messing with your test results, so you’re immune system is just about back to normal.”
I nodded. “I know.”
I felt him stroke my hair.
“That’s just it. I’m free for the first time. For the first time, I’m able to figure out my life instead of being dictated to me.”
I tilted my head so that I could look into those eyes.
“It’s a lot to take in.”
I nodded. “I could finish school here with you, or I could get a job. I don’t need to be poked or prodded ever again. I don’t even have to attend another press conference. For once, I just get to be me, whoever I wanted to be.”
I smiled. “I’m glad.”
He leaned and connected our lips.
“So, what’s first on the agenda of the rest of your life?”
I grinned.
“Donuts.”
Sneak Peek
Against the Current
Awakenings 1
Coming 2021
Prologue
The bright, warm sun hadn’t been seen in days, and there still didn’t seem any sign of it coming back any time soon. The ground was dark and thick with mud. The clouds were bushy, dark as a steady breeze swept through the water and onto the beach. The world was covered in a grey haze. A pale, feminine figure stood alone on the edge of the cliff. The fog drifted around the ends of her dress. Water repeatedly smacked against the sharp, jagged edges of the rocks below her. The water splattered around. The woman’s gaze was steadily focused out towards the horizon, unmoved despite the weather. She was covered in a white linen dress with a thin white shawl draped at her elbows. Her light blond hair danced in the wind.
The young woman’s hand was a metal lantern that held a candle that dully licked the air behind the glass. Below, the woman waves gradually crashed against the murky, sandy shore. A gust of wind came towards the land. The woman took a glance over her shoulder before looking forward. The woman spread her arms wide, and the fabric fluttered about. She titled her head back and leaned forward.
1
Blair
Cardboard boxes sat nestled inside one of another in the corner of my room. A couple of layers of tape were poking up at the seams. The once black marker that had my name spread across the side was now a faint grey shade, stripped from the waves underneath the cardboard’s surface. They claimed this would be the last move for a while. If I had a dollar every time, I had heard that.
I plopped down on the bed as my eyes went around the grey room. It wasn’t the worst color a room had been when we moved in. The top was that pink room that had a green carpet. I kept telling mom I felt like I was living in a watermelon. She told me to stop being dramatic. That was until I taped little pieces of black paper on all the walls. When my mom came into my room later that day when she saw the watermelon, she took me that day to pick out a color to paint the room. I got to enjoy the color about a month before we were getting our orders to move again.
My mattress sagged slightly under me, and the worn material of the comforter was under my palms. It was an olive shade, so it wasn’t terrible against the grey. Things would kind of match until the next move. I was a junior in high school, and this was my tenth school. My eyes scanned the room. There were faded squares on the walls. I wonder what it was like to live somewhere long enough to leave memories on a wall.
“Blair! Can you come down and help with dinner?” my mom’s voice carried up the stairs.
Glancing around the room, I sighed. It was what it was at this point. Pushing myself off the bed, I dragged my feet out of my new room. Next to my room was the bathroom, then across from my door was the room my sisters were going to share. Their boxes were outside the door as I squeezed by. Their joyful screams traveled up the narrow hallway. Maybe I didn’t want to go that way. Hopping down the stairs, a wall of totes and cardboard greeted me. Winnie was sitting in the middle of the kitchen in her diaper and a shirt. Her caramel hair was in corkscrew curls, perched on top of her head with a tilted bow. Her round, blue eyes found me, and a wet smile spread across her face.
“Bee!” Winnie squealed, and she spread her arms out wide.
Thuds came from the side room. Persephone went into the room and was barefoot in a short sleeve, maxi dress. Her brown hair was tied back in a waist-length braid. There was a chocolate smile mustache on her face. The edge of my baggy jeans swung by my feet as I ruffled the top of Winnie’s head. Crossing my arms, my hands slide by my bare arms. My mom had her brown hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. She was in jeans and a short sleeve top, but she was wearing skinny jeans, unlike me. There were a few pots and pans on the white counters. The entire kitchen was white. With us, it wasn’t going to last.
“Bumble Bee, can you help cook dinner as I finish up in here. Winnie is finally done with her tantrum so that I can unpack.”
Persephone raced out of the room, and I heard the back-door slam. I shook my head.
I smirked. “Not our Winifred.”
My mom glanced over her shoulder with one eyebrow high.
“You can’t even say that with a straight face.”
“Still not as bad as Persephone.” I retorted.
My mom shook her head, causing the bent strands to wobble on the top of her head.
“Your father still holds it over my head, naming her after Hades’ bride.”
“I don’t blame him. Way to pick a fitting name, by the way.”
She sighed and shook her head. I couldn’t see her, but I would’ve bet that she rolled her eyes.
“I was working on all that Ancient Grecian stories at that time.”
My mother, the romance novelist. When she was pregnant with me, it was during her first couple of contemporary stories. Persephone was during this weird ancient time period she was going through. Thank God that was a short phase. I however, didn’t mind hearing about all those ancient God and Goddess stories. Then the last couple of years has been her Victorian and Regency timeframe.
I went past my mom, grabbed a frozen pizza, then breadsticks out of the freezer, then plopped them on the counter. Walking into the other room, I opened a teal tote and moved some papers until I found the cooking sheets. Carrying them into the kitchen, I preheated the oven.
“This house doesn’t seem so bad, right?”
I glimpsed over at her as she was placing glasses into a cabinet.
“We’ve been here four hours,” I muttered.
“Well, at this point in that house in Maryland, we found that raccoon in the house.”
I bent over, laughing hard.
“Oh, my God, your screams were so loud!”
“I’m sorry when one opens the bathroom, they do not expect to find a furry friend.�
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I ripped open the pizza box and placed the pizza on the pan as I continued to laugh.
“I was upstairs thinking about that watermelon room.”
She smiled. “That was funny. This house is in a nicer neighborhood. I have a room for my writing, and you don’t have to share with either of your sisters. The school is in the distance that you can ride your bike.”
I shook my head as I put the pizza in the oven.
“That bike has a lot of miles on it. I love that thing.”
“If you need a new one, we can get you a new bike.”
I shrugged. “Nope, I’m good.”
My mom turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“I’m an awesome chef.”
My mom threw her head back and chuckled.
“You are so talented; you should have your own television show.”
She came over and hugged me. My mom kissed the top of my head.
“Where is dad anyway?”
“Probably cursing me right now.” She said and went back to unpacking.
“Is he putting your bed together?”
She nodded. She was pulling some of her decorative mugs out and placing them next to our tall glasses.
“You’re going to be lucky if you have a bed tonight. Dad swore last time that he was going to throw that thing in the backyard and burn it.”
“I know, but he loves me.”
I rolled my eyes and threw the breadsticks into the oven as well. Almost as if on cue, I heard a loud curse from the other room. Winnie squealed and banged on one of the pots on the floor.
“I’m telling you, mom,” I started. “her first word is going to be a curse word.”
Her brown eyes cut to me.
“Don’t you jinx me.”
I laughed.
“Only with all my love.”
“Go check on your dad and make sure he’s not making firewood, please. They don’t make beds like that anymore.”
“Okay, listen for the timer.”
Walking past Winnie and the stairs, I turned into my parent’s first-floor bedroom. There were a couple of dressers spread out with some boxes on top. My dad was in jeans and a grey shirt. The word ‘Army’ was in black, block letters across his chest. As if the movers didn’t already know why they were helping us. His brown hair was a little lighter these days as it had white sprinkled in.
“Hey, dad.”
My dad crouched down near one of the legs of the bed.
“This thing might be real-wood, but it wasn’t meant to be messed with this much.”
I knew how that bed felt. One too many moves in my taste too. I crossed my arms over my chest as I stared at my dad.
“Mom wanted me to check-in and make sure we weren’t having a bonfire tonight.”
Another curse escaped his lips, and he sat down.
“Is dinner almost ready?”
He was avoiding the big wooden subject in front of him.
I smiled. “Pizza is in the oven.”
He glanced over at me with a wide grin on his face. “That’s my girl.”
I laughed. “Okay, I’ll tell mom the bed survived another move.”
My dad pointed at me with the screwdriver. “Its last move.”
This time it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“This time, I mean it. They’d have to make me a millionaire to move.”
“Huh.”
“I mean it, Bumble Bee. This old body says retirement isn’t far.”
“If you retired, mom would kill you.”
He chuckled.
“Probably, but that still means the last move. Your mom won’t be moving if I’m not asking her to.”
I laughed. The loud beeps from the kitchen echoed.
“Dinner is ready.”
“I’ll be right in.”
I nodded and went into the kitchen. Using a couple of dish towels, I took the pizza and breadsticks out of the oven. I could see wisps of steam drifting up from the molten cheese. My mom was beside me taking out robin’s egg blue plates out of a box. My dad came into the room with Persephone thrown over his shoulder in high giggles. Winnie was still on the floor and began to clap her chubby hands. Dad placed Persephone down on her feet, and he picked up Winnie. Dad kissed her on one of her round cheeks. He put her in her highchair. I brought my plate to the table and sat on one side of Winnie. My parents got the ends of the table, and Persephone sat across from me. Mom had cut a couple of pizza pieces into tiny bits then scraped them onto Winnie’s tray. Persephone went straight for the breadsticks.
“Another successful move.” My dad grinned.
A half-smile formed on my face. My mom was beaming. My sisters were smiling, but I was not as sure as they were.
Other Works
Young Adult
End of the Line Series
End of the Line
Going Rogue
Off the Beaten Path
Family Ties Series
Family Ties
Invisible Bonds
Project US
A Storm on the Horizon
Adult
Beneath the Scars Series
Beneath the Scars
Call for Help
Define a Hero
Novellas
Treble with Music
Best Friends
Mistakes Series
Shadows from the Past
Whispers in the Woods
Footsteps in the Alley
A Howl for a Resistance
Moonlit Eyes
Anthologies
Christmas Lites
Beaker to Life Page 15