Read Underestimated Online

Authors: Jettie Woodruff

Underestimated

BOOK: Underestimated
3.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

This book is a work of fiction. References to real

people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations

are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and

are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive

are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and

dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are

not to be interpreted as real.

Warning! This is not your everyday fall in love

romance. This book contains disturbing situations, strong

language, graphic, sexual content, some forced, some not.

If it's your happily ever after love story that you are

looking for, you should probably move on. If you are up

for the ride, stick around and it may just turn into a love

story after all.

Dedication

To Syd for all of your feedback and support.

To Ms. C. Barr for the hours of perverted conversations

while this book was being transformed.

Only at the warehouse.

Copyright© 2013 Jettie Woodruff

All rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any

manner whatsoever without written permission of the

author.

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

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Of all of the thirty-six alternatives, running away is

best.

I couldn’t hold my eyes open for one more second.

I had just driven two thousand nine hundred and fifty four

miles, fifty seven hours, not including the six hours that I

tried to sleep at the Motel 6,
twice
. Thirty four more

miles, according to the robotic voice coming from the box

stuck to the windshield of my not so new, used car.

The closer I got, the more my nerves began to

stand on end. What the hell was I doing? Who does this?

Who walks away from their life to start all over? And

when I say all over, I truly mean all over. My entire

existence had been nothing but an illusion.

My name is no longer Morgan Kelley. That one

would take some getting used to. I spent hours of my long

drive going over the aspects of my new life with my

invisible friend in the passenger seat. We actually had

hours of conversations, okay, so they were one sided, but

they were without doubt, conversations. I had even given

my new friend a name and called him slash, after the three

inch gash in the cheap vinyl seat.

My name is Riley Murphy. I moved to Misty Bay,

Maine from Carson, Indiana when my company

downsized, and I lost my job as an advertising rep. The

small two bedroom cottage was a gift from my late

grandmother. “Wow, a small cottage in Misty Bay,

population, one thousand seventy five.” I interrupted my

life studies when reality sat in for the millionth time since

I had left Las Vegas. I mean Indiana. “Dammit Morg...

Shit, I mean Riley.” I need to sleep. I just need sleep. I

can’t function. I know this. I have it all embedded in my

brain. I am going to be fine, and there is nobody from

Misty Bay, Maine looking for me. I had to stop. I couldn’t

repeat my new life out loud or to myself, one more time.

Not if I intended to keep my sanity in tack. It was already

on the verge of toppling over.

“Turn right in one point seven miles,” the robotic

voice instructed. I turned right and was on a curvy

blacktop road barely wide enough for two vehicles. The

coast was absolutely breath taking, and did wonders for

my nerves. I reached over and cranked the handle, rolling

down the passenger side window. My nerves calmed even

more when I heard the waves crashing to the rock walls

below me. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be living

by the ocean. I could walk along the beach anytime I

wanted, and I would too, I promised myself.

‘Welcome to Misty Bay,’ I finally read the

homemade wooden sign, situated in the fresh spring, green

leafed trees off the side of the road. I drove through the

small town, looking out every window in the car. My head

spun around until it wouldn’t rotate any further. One bank,

one post office, one grocery store, one small library which

looked like it would fit in the one that I use to go to in Las,

I mean Indiana, at least ten times.

‘Reminiscent,’ I read as I pulled to the curb. This

was where I would be working. Me, working in a coffee

shop slash, hippy store. I had never had a job in my life. I

felt a little whinsical thinking about it. I looked into my

rearview mirror. I still had the bruise just below my right

eye, but I had four days to get settled before I started

work. It should be gone by then.

I waited for the school bus to pass and continued

on my journey, excited to finally reach my destination.

“Turn right,” the voice instructed again. I made a right and

was on a one lane graveled road. It was a quaint little

neighborhood, and an older gentleman waved as I passed

him retrieving his mail. “Arriving at destination, on right,”

I was informed. It wasn’t what I was expecting at all. The

cottage was sort of by the beach, and I hoped there was a

strategy to get off of the mountaintop to enjoy it. The aqua

blue color of the house had to go. Who in their right mind

would paint a house that color? It was the ugliest blue I

had ever seen. I actually had a sundress pretty close to that

color. I wouldn’t be wearing that, I decided when I got out

of my car. It was the beginning of May and the temperature

might have been sixty. When I left Las, I mean Indiana, it

was ninety nine.

I opened the gate, just off from the driveway. The

picket fence was nice, and I liked the white, but would

unquestionably be changing the color of the house. I

walked up the small porch and unlocked the door, the door

to my new home. “Wow,” I said out loud to no one. The

living room was open and led to the small dining area. I

walked across the hardwood floor to the other side. I

loved the French doors that led to a nice deck, although it

was further away from the beach than I had hoped. I turned

back to the bright yellow walls on every wall that I could

see. The kitchen wasn’t bad and had updated, modern

appliances, but the bright yellow paint was already giving

me a migraine. The countertops were a dark gray color. I

thought that they were some kind of fake marble, but I

could work with that.

I walked toward the side of the house and peeked

in the bathroom. I was pleasantly surprised. I was happy

to see the rather large claw foot tub, and was gratified to

see that the walls were a pleasant neutral, olive green

color. I liked that room, and it only needed a good

cleaning. I opened the first bedroom door and thought it

would make a nice office. It was small but had a

reasonable size window overlooking the ocean. I could

even live with the light blue walls. The next room was

bigger, but nothing like I was used to in Indiana. I smiled

to myself when I remembered that I was from Indiana and

not Las Vegas. It too had a marvelous view, overlooking

pine trees and also the Atlantic Ocean. The walls were a

soft, subtle gray, and I loved it. One less thing to do. I

noticed how rocky the yard seemed to be, and then it

dawned me. I would have to mow and take care of the

yard myself. At least there was a small shed to keep a

lawn mower. Lawnmower? I didn’t know how to buy a

lawnmower. Where do you even buy those things?

Okay so maybe I didn’t think this through all that

well. I had no bed. Where was I supposed to sleep? The

only furniture left in the house was a table and four chairs.

The table was one of those round plastic outdoor tables

with a hole running through the middle of it for an

umbrella. The four plastic chairs didn’t even match. One

was green, one was white, and two were brown. No couch

either, this was just brilliant. I had the money, and I had

planned on buying new everything. That part I was looking

forward to, however, it didn’t help much at seven o’clock

on a Thursday night. Food! I had no food either. I was so

tired. I honestly didn’t want to go back into town, although

it would have taken me a full three minutes to drive. I

decided to unload my car and at least get a much needed

hot shower. No. I wouldn’t be doing that either. Well I

could, but I had no soap, no shampoo, no wash cloth, and

not even a towel to dry on. I didn’t even have a blanket to

cover up with, let alone lie on.

I unloaded what clothes that I had. Nothing was

mine, not even the clothes that I was wearing. Ms. K had

made me change them and put on the ones that she had

gotten for me. I didn’t even take any of the expensive items

from Drew. Ms. K told me not to, afraid that if I pawned

them, they might be traced, and that was a chance that I

wasn’t willing to take. I didn’t even get the one framed

picture of my Grandma Joyce, the only person who had

ever cared about me or my wellbeing. The pictures of my

life after Drew could have gone up in flames, and I

wouldn’t have cared.

After I had my clothes carried to the room that I

would call mine, I dragged myself back out to the car. I

remembered seeing a Dollar General Store back in town.

At least I could get a pillow, and a couple of blankets to

sleep on. I desperately wanted some bathroom supplies,

and I supposed that I should go to the grocery store.

I went to the Dollar store first, that was my first

mistake. By the time I had bought two hundred and twelve

dollars’ worth of supplies, enough to get me through until I

could go shopping the next day, the grocery store had

closed. I bought a coffee pot and had no coffee for the next

morning. My new adventurous beginning was not in

accordance with how my mind had played it out… at all.

What was I supposed to eat now? I hadn’t had anything

since around noon, wanting to put the miles behind me,

and just get there already. Get there, to an ugly blue house

that was close to the beach, if you could get down the

mountain. Get there to a house without a bed or food. Get

there to a house that I had to wear my sunglasses inside

because the bright yellow paint hurt my eyes.

I unloaded my new belongings. I didn’t put

anything away in the bathroom. It seriously needed a good

scrubbing. Why didn’t I buy cleaning supplies at the dollar

store? At least I could have disinfected the tub. I used the

cheap strawberries, and cream shampoo and a new

washcloth to clean the tub, and then filled it with hot sudsy

water. It felt sensational, and the tension that had begun to

build again started to evaporate. I tried to think about my

BOOK: Underestimated
3.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

High Heels and Homicide by Kasey Michaels
Feel the Burn by MacDonald, Nicole
Misguided Truths: Part One by Sarah Elizabeth
Wild Nights by Jaci Burton
MY FAIR BILLIONAIRE by ELIZABETH BEVARLY,
Nano by Sam Fisher
The God Particle by Richard Cox
Jerry Junior by Jean Webster
The Lady and the Unicorn by Tracy Chevalier