Awaken Me (The Jaded Series Book 4) (2 page)

Looking down at the gun in my hand, regret and guilt churn in my stomach. I flat-out lied when I made that promise to Anna two years ago. I promised her I’d be happy, knowing that I never would be again. But I had to give her what she needed. Knowing deep down she was saying good-bye and that was the last time I was going to see her beautiful face, I said the only thing that would give her peace.

It’s been over two years since my heart turned cold and stopped working properly. Two years since I’ve seen Anna or held her in my arms. Two fucking years since I’ve looked into her bright blue eyes. Two years, and it still feels like yesterday. Some people say I should move on and let my grief go. But it’s not just the grief I hold on to. It’s the guilt of lying to Anna and not keeping my promise. The regret for not being there when she needed me. The rage for not killing the bastards who took her away from me.

Yes, I still grieve for her with my whole being and have not let go of her, but she hasn’t let go of me either. It’s like there’s still a connection between us that can’t be severed.

I grip the cool black metal in my hand tightly and bring it closer to my face. I flipped off the safety so the little red dot is visible. Red means fire. With shaky hands, I bring the barrel of the gun up under my chin. My finger slides across the trigger and rests there.

Of their own accord, my eyes flicker over to the picture I have on the nightstand. It’s of me and Anna. I have my arm wrapped around her neck. Her head is tilted up, while mine is bent toward her; our foreheads are resting against each others’. I had just pulled away from kissing her.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the picture, but it’s no use.

I take a deep breath and apply light pressure to the trigger. I know at this point asking for forgiveness is useless, but I still send up a silent prayer, asking Anna to forgive this one last sin.

Gathering my courage, I squeeze the trigger the rest of the way…

Click.

All I hear is a fucking click.

I pull the gun away from my chin and look down at it. I didn’t chamber the damn bullet.

A big rush of air leaves my lungs, and I glare down at the gun. Knowing that I won’t have the courage again tonight, I put the gun back down on the nightstand and pick up the bottle of Jack instead. Uncapping it, I take a big swallow and relish the burn it leaves in my throat.

Anger and disappointment rush through me. With a roar, I rear back and throw the half-empty bottle at the wall. It connects with a loud crash and the amber liquid goes everywhere.

I’m angry because I couldn’t follow through. My beautiful Anna is dead, and I’m left here. I was the one that was supposed to protect her. I should be the one in a cold grave. Not her. I’m the one who failed her.

I get up from the bed, ignoring the mess across the room, and walk the short distance to the bathroom. Once I’m in front of the mirror, I grip the edge of the vanity and look at my reflection. I look like shit. My eyes are bloodshot with shadows under them from drinking too much and lack of sleep. My face looks pale and gaunt. My eyes travel to my naked chest and stomach, and I notice that I’ve lost weight. The muscles are still there, but not as bulky. My stomach is starting to sink in and my ribs are a little more pronounced.

I release my grip and turn to the shower. Once the water finally turns hot, I pull the curtain back and step inside. The hot water does nothing to settle my nerves or help the never-ending sorrow.

Knowing that I need to present myself halfway decently, I start the task of doing just that. The last thing I need is people knowing just how dark my world has become. I have to mentally prepare myself for what’s to come and the pitying looks I know I’ll receive.

Because tomorrow I go home.

Chris

I pick up a book from the shelf that has a black-haired Adonis on the front cover. The guy is standing on the porch of an old farmhouse with his hands resting on the railing, gazing out across the yard. He’s in nothing but a pair of faded jeans and a cowboy hat. His dark tan, bulging muscles, and six-pack abs send a tingle to my girly bits.

Shit. I’m pathetic.

I’ve never understood Bailey’s obsession with reading these romance books, but after looking at the guy on the cover and my never-ending dry spell, I can totally see the appeal.

I open the book to the middle, skim over a page, and immediately see the words “yeah, baby, fuck my fingers good.” I’m no prude by any means, but that makes me blush. I continue reading and the more I do, the hotter I get. I really need to find some action soon.

“Whatcha looking at?” Bailey whispers in my ear, causing me to jump and drop the book.

I’m sure my cheeks are still pink when I look at her after picking up the book. I’m just glad she didn’t catch what part I was reading. Bailey and I are very close, but that doesn’t mean I want to read erotica with her.

“Oh, I’ve read that one. It’s a good one. You should get it,” Bailey says, eyeing the book in my hand.

I glance down at it and see the cowboy again. “Hmm… maybe I will. The description looks good.” I’m lying. I haven’t even read what it’s about yet. But from the tingles the guy on the front is giving me and the short paragraph I read inside, I think I’ve finally found something to perk up my libido. Lord knows the only other thing, or rather person, that’s gotten my motor running lately wants nothing to do with me.

I wipe the thought from my mind before it takes hold and regret and sadness have a chance to swarm me.

Bailey takes a step closer and lowers her voice even more. “It’s definitely something you want to read when you’re alone though. There are scenes in there that’re very… arousing.”

I barely contain myself from laughing at the red that’s creeping up Bailey’s cheeks. I may be embarrassed to read such explicit material with Bailey hanging over my shoulder, but talking about sex is another thing. Bailey has always been cutely shy and blushes at the smallest mention of anything sexual.

“What do you have?” I ask Bailey.

She looks down at the book with a loving expression, her hands caressing the cover like it’s the most precious thing. There’s excitement in her eyes when she looks at me. “Just the final book in a series I started a while back. It came out a few days ago. Mrs. Stewart held it for me.”

“So, in other words, I won’t see you for the next couple of days?” I say with a laugh.

She looks at me sheepishly. “I know it sounds bad, but I’m going to ask Jaxon to watch Amari for a bit today. I’m dying to know what happens with the two main characters. I’ve been waiting months for this.”

God bless Bailey and her romance stories. But then again, according to Bailey, it was the fictional happy endings that helped keep her sane while she was running from her crazy husband. No way could I ever fault her for that.

“You know Jaxon. He takes any and all opportunities to spend as much time with Amari as he can. But let me know if he can’t take her. I’d love to spend the evening with beautiful Amari.”

She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Thank you, Chris. I know it sounds ridiculous, but besides you, these books were my only friends for a while.”

I smile tenderly at her, understanding her meaning. “I know. And I get it.”

After a few more minutes of browsing the shelves, we make our way to the front of the library to check out our books. Mrs. Stewart is behind the counter showing a volunteer how to check books back in. When she sees us, she smiles and walks over.

“Hello, Bailey and Chris. Did you find everything you wanted?” she asks, and grabs our small stack of books.

“We did. I wanted to thank you for holding the book for me.”

The older lady smiles kindly at Bailey as she scans our library cards and then taps keys on the keyboard. “You’re very welcome, sweetie. I remember how excited you were when you found out we were getting it.” She leans closer to Bailey when she continues. “I started the first book a couple days ago.”

“That’s wonderful!” Bailey says happily. “I should be done with this one before you get through the second one. You won’t have to wait like I did.”

When Mrs. Stewart picks up the book that I’m checking out, she looks at me and smiles wickedly. “This is a good one too, Chris. Just make sure you read it in private. There’s this one scene where they’re on a horse…” She wiggles her eye brows suggestively. I catch her meaning and my eyes nearly bug out of my head. Don’t get me wrong, to each their own when it comes to reading material. It’s just I would have never pegged the sweet grandmotherly looking woman in front of us for reading something so naughty.

I glance at Bailey when I tell Mrs. Stewart, red staining my face again, “So I’ve been told.”

They both share a chuckle, making me even more curious about the book I’m checking out. It also makes me impatient to get home to start it. Luckily, it’s the weekend and I don’t have to be at Jaxon’s until this evening.

“You ready, Freddie?” I ask Bailey once Mrs. Stewart is done with us.

“Yep!”

“Wanna grab some lunch at Maggie’s before you pick up Amari from Lilly’s?” I suggest once we leave the library. Lilly is Jaxon’s mom. She’s about the only person Jaxon will let watch Amari without a fight.

She looks down at her watch before replying. “Sure. I’ve got about an hour before I have to be there.”

We walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cool breeze. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to winter. Being a southern girl, I never had much chance to see snow. This will be my second winter here. The first winter was mild and only got a few inches. I’m hoping this year will be different.

“Did you hear Karyn and Ethan’s twins are a boy and girl?”

Shocked, I glance at Bailey. “Oh wow! No, I hadn’t heard. That’s wonderful news. I thought they were going to wait until they were born to find out what sex they are.”

“I guess they couldn’t wait any longer. They were both tickled pink when they came in to Maggie’s yesterday morning and told me and Jaxon. They get both a boy and girl with one go.”

We laugh, happy for Karyn and Ethan. They’re lucky. It’ll be tough on them in the beginning, especially since they are new parents, but I know they’ll love it.

On the way to the diner, we’re stopped a couple of times by people walking down the street. I love living here. Everyone has been so nice. It’s a small community, but it’s one that’s close and the people are willing to help out their own, even if you didn’t grow up here. A lot of small towns like this are reluctant to accept new members, not wanting to share their territory. You don’t get that here. You’re considered one of them as soon as you drive into town.

We’re almost to the diner when Bailey’s next words have me tensing. “Looks like Nick is back.”

I look up and see Nick’s big dark gray truck rolling down the street. A mixture of emotions flood through me, and I’m not sure which is dominant. On one hand, the thought of seeing Nick again has me excited and impatient. On the other hand, I’m nervous. There’s no telling of the reception I’ll get from him. The last time I saw him was the morning after the night I was almost kidnapped by Damien, my brother Jase’s ex-psycho-boyfriend. Memories of that morning bring a flush of embarrassment to my skin and butterflies into my stomach. I close my eyes, trying to push the images away. The first part of that morning I loved. The second part, not so much.

When I open my eyes again, Bailey is watching me sadly. I look away from her, not wanting to see the pity on her face. I’m aware that my friends know of my feelings for Nick. Nick’s also made it quite clear to everyone his feelings toward me.

Almost from the moment I met him I’ve felt a connection to Nick. The pain I saw in his eyes made my chest hurt. No living person should ever look that dead. I tried so hard to be a friend to him, to try to help him through his pain, but he’s always pushed me away. At first, it wasn’t sexual. Don’t get me wrong, Nick is about as hot as hot can get, but it was the deep-seated pain that drew me to him and had me wanting to help. But no matter what I do or what I say, he never lets me in. As a matter of fact, he seems to push me further away than anyone else. I have no idea what I did to make Nick hate me. And he does. You can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. There’s so much venom there that I’m surprised I haven’t died from the poisonous look. I know I should just give up, but there’s something about him that won’t let me.

“Chris—” Bailey starts, but I cut her off.

“I’m fine, Bailey.” I try to give her a smile, but it’s forced, something I’m sure she sees. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. I wear them on my sleeve so everyone can see. I don’t do it on purpose; I just could never hide them.

“Let’s go get lunch so you can get your baby girl and I can go start my book.”

After watching me for a few more seconds, she nods, grabs my hand, and we both walk to the door of the diner. Right before we walk inside, I turn and see Nick’s truck stopped in the middle of the street. I would swear his head is turned in our direction, but I know it’s wishful thinking. No way could I tell through the tint on his window. Not to mention, Nick has no reason to look this way. He certainly wouldn’t be looking at me. He can’t stand the sight of me. He’s told me so with not just his actions, but his words on more than one occasion.