Thundering Luv (10 page)

Colin’s blood drummed rapidly through his veins. He released Jewel, his heart ripping in two, eyes watering. “Jewel, I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to be with you more.” His voice cracked.

Jewel’s shaking hands removed the necklace he’d given her. “Colin, you’re a selfish creep, and I never want to see you again. Tell them all what a good job you did making a fool out of me.” Jewel threw the necklace at him, and this time, she didn’t miss. It hit him directly over his heart. Then she ran out of the beach home.

Colin fell back on the couch, and for the first time in a long time, he pressed his fingers against his eyes, and let the tears fall.

Jewel wasn’t happy to be home. But since she got there two weeks ago, she’d taken some of Colin’s advice. The walk upstairs to her mom’s room was a long one, but she’d told her mom what she thought of her new fiancé, then what she felt about all the men she’d been dating. Her mom listened and cried, then hugged Jewel. It was the best, most freeing thing she’d done since her father left. After that, Jewel called her dad. Jewel figured since she had the courage she may as well get everything out in the open. Thanks to Colin’s advice, she reminded him that although he loved his new wife, that she, his daughter, would never go away. Her father surprised her by apologizing. Then he told her he’d put his wife in her place. Her father promised he would come visit for Christmas.

With all that had happened in the last two weeks, Jewel should be happy, but she wasn’t. Her heart felt empty. Every night she went to bed in tears. She’d fallen in love with Colin, and it wouldn’t go away. No matter how much he’d hurt her, everything inside her ached for something she couldn’t have.

He’d called the morning they left the beach, even showed up at the beach house—she told Megs not to let him in. When she’d seen Colin’s phone calls or texts, she didn’t answer. Matter of fact, she stopped even looking at or answering her phone at all.

Today was the first day of school. Jewel didn’t want to go now that she realized the sick game that had been played on her. Now she’d be alone, even more so than she was before. Spending time at the beach with Colin gave her hope that after school she wouldn’t have to rush home and stress about her mom ignoring her, the loneliness of having no real friends, or the rejection of having a father that didn’t love her. She had Colin and his love was something she was looking forward to holding onto when she got home. Now that was gone and although her parents came around, the solitude she felt now was unbearable.

When she went to school she’d be the butt of another joke. This time though, Jewel didn’t want to put on the phony face of happiness and confidence she’d been wearing the last few years of high school. Jewel would show herself. This year was the first time that she didn’t even show up to cheerleader practice. That wasn’t her dream anymore. Creating poetry, even music to go with it was something she wanted to pour herself into now. Colin taught her that. To go after what she really wanted without trying to fit in—be what people thought she should be. But none of those dreams really made her excited anymore.

Now she just wanted Colin. She wanted to believe he wasn’t in on the joke. That he really did love her. It hurt so bad that she didn’t even want to get out of bed to get dressed for school.

Her mom opened the door to her room. “Your ride is here.” Her mom had her platinum curls up in a similar ponytail to Jewel’s.

“Thanks Mom, I’m ready.” Jewel put on her backpack and pulled down her skirt.

“Oh, by the way, tell Megs there will be no wedding, so don’t bother going to the bridal shop this Friday.”

Jewel smiled. “Really?”

Her mom nodded, her blue eyes watering. “I regret putting you through the last few years. You mean more to me than anything.” She hugged Jewel. “Now go, enjoy your senior year without worrying about your old mom.”

“I will try.” She kissed her mom on the cheek.

Jewel watched her mom leave, and pivoted around to get her purse off the bed, just as the bedroom door opened.

A large, warm hand closed on her shoulder. “Jewel?” Colin’s deep, tortured voice sounded behind her.

She dropped her backpack and spun around. “Uh…”

“Shh. Hear me out. Please.” Colin dug in his pocket and pulled out the necklace he’d made for her.

Jewel’s fingers itched to touch the one around his neck. But she stood still, fighting not to cry and beg him to never leave her.

“Look, I messed things up with you. I didn’t know anything about the scam the jocks ran on the cheerleaders because my cousin and I don’t even say two words to each other. I found out from Jake after I told him I was upset with you because of how Tank reacted to you breaking up with him.” Colin took a step closer. “But what I wanted to say was that if I was your boyfriend, that if you broke up with me, I was afraid that I’d be in much worse condition than Tank ever was. I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want to lose you…or what we had.”

“Colin, I...” Jewel starved to kiss him, to cry, to let him know she forgave him.

“No, listen. I-love-you,” his voice cracked, “and I…please, Jewel, please say you’ll forgive me and I will spend everyday showing you how much I need you in my life. I won’t leave you. I won’t push you to do anything you’re not ready to do. Just p-please take me back.”

Tears were falling down her face. “Colin, I love you too. Never stopped. Can’t stop. I shouldn’t have doubted that you were nothing like those bums. I was shocked and hurt on so many levels it just bubbled up and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me? Can you still really love me after the way I hurt you?” Jewel hoped so.

Colin kissed her like she was his air, and he was drowning. He lifted her up in his arms and spun her around. “Do you want your necklace back?”

Jewel laughed, filled with so much joy tears fell down her face. “Yes! And I want you Colin…just you.”

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PURGATORY REIGN, by LM Preston (Sample)

Closer. Come closer.
Peter’s large frame leaned on the door to the gym, the one thing he actually liked about the rundown, makeshift group home. He beat his fist against the wall and listened to the kid scream obscenities while searching for him.

The bully was just who Peter wanted to see. Peter hungered to kick the bastard’s brick-head the last two days for roughing up a younger kid. He didn’t want the reason for the fight to be too obvious, or else Pastor Finnegan would lecture him about turning the other cheek and all. But Pastor Finnegan could save that forgiveness monologue for someone that needed it—Peter didn’t. He’d given up on turning the other cheek the day his life went to crap. Peter refused to call him by that long last name, and the Pastor usually let it slide—if he was in a decent mood. Even so, the old man was hard to shake once he got a sermon started. Being the only authority figure in Peter’s life for the last eight years, the old lunatic had grown on him.

The burly dark-haired boy bellowed, “Peter! Where’s my money?”

Peter’s jaw clenched. And he taunted Remmy with his middle finger pointed up. Then he flicked his chin with his fingers to egg the kid on further, knowing the bully would charge him. The big, dumb ones always did.

Remmy’s face reddened and with balled fist he barreled toward Peter. Peter whirled and pushed Remmy’s head down to the floor.  Remmy’s soft, bulky frame shook as his arms slid out and he grabbed for Peter’s calf. Breathing easy, a sneer on his face, Peter slid out of Remmy’s reach to kick him on the shoulder. Remmy’s upper body jerked back and he howled; his pale blue eyes filled with fury.

Peter reached down, and snatched Remmy up by his collar with ease, then slammed him against the frame of the door. His elbow was firmly placed under the stocky bully’s chin, putting just enough pressure on his neck to strangle Remmy’s cough. “I’m the head dog here! You pull that move with another kid I’ll kick your teeth in without nothin’ to hold me back. The cash I took from you…consider it payment for me not wiping your sorry face across the floor.” Peter yanked back his fist, preparing to knock punk out cold.

“Peter! You stop that. Boy. I’m warning you.” Pastor Finn’s gruff command froze Peter’s fist in place.

Peter’s eyes narrowed at Remmy’s cocky grin. Exhaling, Peter pulled his fist back further and landed a blinding blow to bully’s nose, knocking him out cold on the floor. Punching the maggot out was worth whatever punishment he’d face.

Pastor Finn’s firm hand grabbed hold of Peter’s black curly mass of hair. “You’ve pushed me too far this time, boy! To the cellar, and clean it, that’s where you’re sleeping tonight.” He whipped Peter around to face him. “Your allowance for the week is cut off. Now git!”

Peter stared at Pastor Finn’s tall, bulky chest. Looking the man in the face could cause him to get even a worse punishment. A serious beat down that only Pastor Finn could deliver. Who’d ever think a retired cop would want to become a pastor? The offbeat man of God could read him like the back of his hand. Today though, Peter wasn’t in the mood for it.

He had to roll out. Get some air. He’d been in this dump for what seemed like forever, and was never allowed off the grounds. Some strict stupid rule Pastor Finn drilled into them. Peter had been sneaking out for as long as he could remember. And he was doing it again today. Beating the new bully up proved to be a great diversion for some fresh air.

Peter nodded at the pastor and, with a spin, headed in the direction of the cellar.

“Stay down there until after breakfast. Maybe hunger will make you remember the rules here.”

Peter slowed his stride. “Right, Pastor Finn. I get the point.” With a grin sliding across his smooth chocolate face, he casually walked toward the cellar.

He let out a sigh, thankful no one would follow him into the depths of the rundown parish. Peter figured if the place wasn’t on so much land to hide the raggedy dump, the state would’ve condemn it. He dragged his hands along the jagged cement block walls leading to the basement stairs. The old lunatic used the basement as storage for all kinds of explosives, weapons, and antiques. Peter belted out a chuckle as he remembered teasing Pastor Finn about being an undercover hoarder.

Navigating his way around the stacked boxes, bins, and racks, Peter stopped just past the six-foot statue of one of the saints. He swore the old dude stole it from some real church for his rundown chapel on the other side of the huge basement—the one in which he forced all the kids he collected, or that were sent to him, to sit for two-hour sermons.