Beyond Repair (35 page)

* * *

“I swear,” I grumbled as I walked into the grocery store with Mia and Chris. “I never remember these snack days. I can’t believe I forgot again.”

“And I have karate tonight, too,” said Mia. “I guess we should get McDonald’s.”

“Yeah, we probably only have time for that,” Chris said, pulling out his phone and looking at the time.

I wasn’t going to say no to french fries. “Sounds good to me.” I picked up two bags of grapes in the fruit aisle and figured I’d go with my old standby. “Let’s grab some yogurt and head to McDonald’s,” I said, turning around and jumping when I realized there was someone right behind me.

The guy who I’d almost bumped into was a dead-ringer for Pierce. Same douchey-gelled brown hair, same height, same creepy smile.

I blinked, waiting for my body to react and my mind to panic. But there was nothing. No fear, no loss of breath, no urge to use hand sanitizer.

Well, that was not completely true. I did feel kind of sorry for the guy. He probably thought that douchey haircut looked good. “Excuse me,” I said, walking by him.

Chris took the bags from me, and we all continued down the aisle. “What kind of yogurt, Mia?”

Mia picked up a box with princesses on it. “This one.”

“Great, you hold on to that,” I said, picking up three more. “Let’s go.”

The elderly cashier smiled at us. “She is precious,” she said to me. “She looks just like you.”

“Thanks,” I replied, swiping my credit card through the reader.

“Except the hair, of course. She has blond hair just like her dad.”

I turned toward Chris, who shrugged and grinned at me as he picked Mia up. Smiling, I turned back toward the cashier. “Just like her dad.”

The End

The following charities use their funding for cancer research or to help families heal:

http://www.cancerresearch.org/

http://www.stbaldricks.org/

http://wish.org/

http://www.thyca.org/

http://www.reactthyroidfoundation.org/

Acknowledgements

Thank you for reading
Beyond Repair
. The following people had a part of this book through critiquing, beta reading, answering questions, and being a support system for me. I am so lucky to have them all.

Big thanks to my husband, my kids, Stacie, Kishan, Gina, Megan, Anna, Marianne, Bigga, Bobbi, Taylor, Kate, Sophie, Dom, Ann, Joe, Rafiq, Katheryn, Chelsey, Ariel, Ella, Jenny of Editing4Indies, Bree of Vivid Words Editing, Najla of Najla Qamber Designs, Stacey of Champagne Formats, Erin of Southern Belle Promotions, Ena of Enticing Journey Book Promotions, and Daina of Epic Literary Promotions.

I also want to express my gratitude to everyone who takes the time to write reviews and to the bloggers who promote my books. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

About the Author

Kelly Lincoln is pretty lame but she’s okay with that. She enjoys reading, inappropriate jokes, all things Disney, and spending time with her family. She lives in the northeast and drinks way too much Diet Coke.

For information about other published works and upcoming releases, please visit
www.kellylincoln.com
. You can also find Kelly when she’s avoiding writing on Facebook at
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKellyLincoln?ref=aymt_homepage_panel
or on Twitter @KLincolnWrites.

If you would like to be notified via email when Kelly has a new release, please sign up for her newsletter on
www.kellylincoln.com
.

Insignificant

Now available

When Taylor was four years old, she became an orphan and her childhood spiraled into darkness. She spent years lying, hiding, and avoiding any love offered to her until she was old enough to run away from all the threats of her past.

Now twenty-two, Taylor doesn’t think she’s worth more than being the kind of girl a guy hooks up with in the back room of a bar after her band plays. She definitely isn’t the one you bring home to meet Mom and Dad.

An unlikely rescue puts her in Ethan’s sight. He’s her total opposite, though. Ethan is a sexy dork who sees beyond Taylor’s guarded exterior. He sees past the tattoos and piercings. He sees
her
.

But they both have secrets capable of destroying their relationship. And if Taylor’s past ever catches up with her, the consequences could be deadly.

Due to explicit language, sexual content, and dark themes, reader discretion is advised.

Turn the page to read Chapter One.

Insignificant

Chapter One

There’s not enough alcohol in the world to deal with this shit.

I trailed my finger around the rim of my almost empty drink, trying my hardest to ignore the train wreck taking place next to me. We'd just played a killer show and our “quick drink before we leave” turned into “watch drunk girls throw themselves all over the guys.” A few weeks ago, when they hadn't known what to do with the attention, it was funny. But now that my friends, Jason and Ben, were turning into little man whores, it was kind of …

A chick sitting on Jason’s lap let out the loudest, fakest laugh ever.

Nauseating.
I drained the rest of my drink.

The bartender took my glass. “Another?”

“No, thanks.” Another would have been awesome, but I really didn’t have the money to blow on drinks. Besides, the last thing this bar needed was another piss-drunk chick.

The girl who laughed was so fucking drunk that she would have fallen off Jason’s lap by now if he didn’t have his arms hooked around her waist, rubbing the strip of bare skin visible between her jeans and tank top. He said something in her ear and she laughed again, then leaned into him so he could support her as they slid off the barstool and started walking toward the back room.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time. Six minutes. This was a record for him.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked over at the chick straddling Ben’s lap, pretty much dry fucking him. “Yeah?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You into him?”

“Ben? No. He’s all yours.”

“Not him. The singer. The one you were looking at who just left with
my
best friend.”

I laughed. “Nope. Not into him, either.”

Still rocking against Ben, she continued. “Good, because she thinks he’s hot and has wanted to hook up with him since she saw him here last week. And she doesn’t need you fucking it up.”

Ben grabbed her hips. “Don’t worry about Taylor. She has a boyfriend. She fucked him in the back room before we went on.”

Nate wasn’t technically my boyfriend. We were more exclusive fuck buddies. And what I did a few hours ago—lay on a cement floor while he rammed into me for a couple of minutes—was the most that I’d seen of him in two weeks. But it wasn’t really the time to explain that to a drunk chick who was looking out for the best interests of her friend’s vag.

I was actually kind of jealous. I’d moved around a lot over the past four years but had settled down in Silver Falls about six months ago because I got a really awesome customer service job. I became good friends with Jason, Ben, and AJ when I joined the band, but I didn’t have any female friends to talk with about girl shit.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, I have a boyfriend.”

She didn’t acknowledge me. Instead, she swallowed Ben’s face.

Gross.

I turned away and scanned the room for AJ. Maybe I could hang out with him until it was time to leave. Out of the three guys, he was the one I was closest with, and based on his history, he wasn’t going to be hooking up with anyone.

Sure enough, I spotted him without a girl. Instead, he was talking to Jason as the drunk chick hung off him. Jason shook his head and released his grip. She stumbled, and AJ caught her while Jason staggered back to the bar. Ten seconds after his ass hit the seat, a girl was next to him on the chair I’d just abandoned.

I headed over to AJ. “What the hell happened there?”

He looked relieved to see me. “I think she’s going to barf.”

I turned my attention to the girl. Sure enough, she was dry heaving. “Help me get her to the bathroom, and I’ll take care of her.”

Because it was almost closing time, the bar was clearing out and there was no line. I took her from AJ and dragged her into a handicapped stall, shoving her in front of the toilet just before she started puking. I pulled her hair back with one hand and put my other on her back, holding my breath as she emptied her stomach.

Finally, her head shot backward, and she leaned against the wall. I squatted in front of her. “You okay?”

Her dazed eyes focused on me. “You look like Ariel. Except …” Her hand reached out to touch my lip ring, but I grabbed her wrist to stop her. She was just hanging onto a toilet seat, after all.

“Yeah, I get that sometimes.” People loved to make
The Little Mermaid
reference about me. It was the whole red hair, blue eyes thing. Only thing was, I couldn’t be further away from being a princess. “You here with anyone besides your friend who was into Ben? They’re probably fucking by now.”

I dodged out of the way as she tried to tap my nose with her finger. “My friend, Ryan. He saw you playing. He thinks you’re hot.” She sang the last word and gave me a dopey smile.

“Do you think Ryan can take you home?” I’d only had one drink, but I wasn’t comfortable driving and I didn’t have the money to put her in a cab.

“May-be. Maybe he can take
me
home, and
you
home, and the three of us—”

“Wow. Maybe I should get you back to Jason.”

“Who’s Jason?”

Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my head with my hands. I did my good deed for the evening, right? Just talking to this girl was making me feel drunk.

“What’s this mean?” Her fingers trailed along my forearm, over my tattoo of three Chinese characters.

“It means I have scars I wanted covered up.” The words slipped out, and I snapped my mouth shut. That was way more information than I would have normally given someone, but her toilet fingers on my arm distracted me and I was off my game. Luckily, she was so wasted that she wasn’t going to remember.

Besides, it was kind of nice to tell the truth for once.

Her fingers traced the elevated skin of my scars hidden in the tattoo patterns. I let her do the letter ‘x’ and a straight line before I pulled my arm away.

“You cut yourself? That’s
so sad
.”

“I
didn’t.”

She leaned closer, and I held my breath so I wouldn’t breathe the lingering vomit smell as she dramatically whispered, “Then who did?”

“Oh my God, Lindsey!”

I turned to the door to see that Ben’s dry fuck buddy had joined us. “You ready to take care of her?”

She glared at me. “Of course I am.”

Yeah, now that she was finished with Ben. But, whatever, my job was done. “Get her some water,” I said, leaving the bathroom.

I made my way back to the bar where the guys were all sitting. Amazingly, they were alone.

Jason held up his fist as I joined them, and I bumped it with mine. “What’s that for?”

“Each of us nailed someone in the back room tonight. Well, except AJ, but he doesn’t count.”

“Be proud, AJ,” I said dryly, disgusted with myself that I was a member of their little club. In my defense, I nailed Nate before I knew it was going to be a trend. “So, are we ready to go?”

AJ nodded to a man across the room. “That’s the manager. He asked us to stay after closing to talk. It’s got to be something good, right?” His smile faded. “Or he’s pissed because everyone was fucking in the back room.”

“I was back there for like three minutes, tops. No joke,” I said quickly.

Ben patted my arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It was only two.”

“How long was I even in the bathroom with that girl if both you and Jason …” I stopped talking when Ben turned red and Jason looked at his fingernails like he was a girl checking for chipped nail polish. “Shit. You didn’t.”

“They did,” AJ sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Jason’s head shot up. “Look, it was no big deal. I fucked mine against one wall, and Ben fucked that other chick against a different wall, and neither one of us looked. They could see each other, though. The girl I was fucking said she liked—”

“Well. Nice job tonight.” The manager of Sabotage came over to us, interrupting the conversation, and a small surge of hope shot through me. If we got booked again, that would really help me out. The awesome customer service job that I moved here for laid me off two weeks ago. Finding a new one had turned into a fucking pain in the ass because no one was hiring.

“I’m all set for this weekend, but starting next week, I want to book you on Fridays for the next four weeks. Same rate. We’ll go from there.”

AJ, who handled all of this shit for us, nodded. “Awesome, man. Thanks.”

“There’s a problem, though.” He pushed a paper across the bar.

I stared down at the flyer for another band. “That’s not us.”

“Nope. Another band has the same name as you. One of my customers was expecting them. Thought you’d want to know.”

I tried not to groan. It had taken the guys forever to decide on a name. Since I hated to debate, I had stayed the hell out of it.

The manager put his hands in his pockets. “Do I even want to know what Fingerblast means?”

I leaned forward. “Fingerblasting is like really rough fingering.” Holding up two fingers, I continued. “You can do it to a vag or, if you’re into it, an—”

He held up his hands. “You know what? I’m good. But you’re going to need to figure out a new name.”

He moved down the bar to talk to a bartender, and Jason grinned. “So now we can be Starfucks!”

AJ sighed. “We can’t be Starfucks. We’d get sued by Starbucks.”

“How about Fingerjack?” Ben asked. “It’s kind of similar to what we had.”

The manager stopped talking and looked over. “Fingerjack?”

I tried to explain again. “Fingerjacking is when a chick fingers—or fingerblasts, I guess— herself.” I held up my hand, touching my fingers to my thumb to make a circle. “Then she takes the same hand and—”