Текст книги "Fallen Too Far"
Автор книги: Abbi Glines
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Fallen Too Far Copyright © 2012 by Abbi Glines
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its many distributors.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
For information concerning the cover art please visit Sarah Hansen’s website at http://okaycreations.net/site/
Editor:Stephanie T. Lott a.k.a. Bibliophile
Published by Abbi Glines 16125 County Road 13 Fairhope, AL 36532
Dedication
To Liz Reinhardt who was my own personal cheerleader while I wrote this book. You come across people in life that become one of those friends you can’t imagine life without. Liz is one of those friends.
Acknowledgments
This book would have never made it to publication without the following people reading it and giving me invaluable advice and encouragement:
Colleen Hoover, Liz Reinhardt, Elizabeth Reyes, Tracey Garves– Graves, Angie Stanton, Tammara Webber, Autumn Hull and Nichole Chase. They all were there when I wasn’t sure I should release this one. They didn’t let me doubt myself. This book is thanks to them. Love you all ladies.
Sarah Hansen who designed this amazing cover. She is brilliant. I love her and she’s pretty dang fun to hang out with too. Trust me… I know ;)
Keith, my husband, who tolerated the dirty house, lack of clean clothes, and my mood swings, while I wrote this book (and all my other books).
My three precious kiddos who ate a lot of corn dogs, pizza, and Frosted Flakes because I was locked away writing. I promise, I cooked them many good hot meals once I finished.
To the coolest agent to ever grace the literary world, Jane Dystel. I adore her. It is that simple. And a shout out to Lauren Abramo, my foreign rights agent who is doing an amazing job at getting my books worldwide. She rocks.
Stephanie T. Lott I’ve worked with many editors and I really love this one. She’s fabulous.
Chapter One
Trucks with mud on the tires were what I was used to seeing parked outside a house party. Expensive foreign cars weren’t. This place had at least twenty of them covering up the long driveway. I pulled my mom’s fifteen– year-old Ford truck over onto the sandy grass so that I wouldn’t be blocking anyone in. Dad hadn’t told me that he was having a party tonight. He hadn’t told me much of anything.
He also hadn’t shown up for my mother’s funeral. If I didn’t need somewhere to live, I wouldn’t be here. I’d had to sell the small house that my grandmother had left us to pay off the last of mom’s medical bills. All I had left was my clothes and the truck. Calling my father, after he had failed to come even once during the three years my mother had fought cancer, had been hard. It had been necessary though; he was the only family I had left.
I stared at the massive three-story house that sat directly on the white sand in Rosemary Beach, Florida. This was my dad’s new home. His new family. I wasn’t going to fit in here.
My truck door was suddenly jerked open. On instinct, I reached under the seat and grabbed my nine-millimeter. I swung it up and directly at the intruder, holding it with both hands ready to pull back on the trigger.
“Whoa… I was gonna tell you that you were lost but I’ll tell you whatever the hell you want me to as long as you put that thing away.” A guy with brown shaggy hair tucked behind his ears stood on the other side of my gun with both his hands in the air and eyes wide.
I cocked an eyebrow and held my gun steady. I still didn’t know who this guy was. Jerking someone’s truck door open wasn’t a normal greeting for a stranger. “No, I don’t think I’m lost. Is this Abraham Wynn’s house?”
The guy swallowed nervously, “Uh, I can’t think with that pointed in my face. You’re making me very nervous, sweetheart. Could you put it down before you have an accident?”
Accident? Really? This guy was beginning to piss me off. “I don’t know you. It’s dark outside and I’m in a strange place, alone. So, forgive me if I don’t feel very safe at the moment. You can trust me when I tell you that there won’t be an accident. I can handle a gun. Very well.”
The guy didn’t appear to believe me and now that I was looking at him he didn’t appear to be real threatening. Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready to lower my gun just yet.
“Abraham?” he repeated slowly and started to shake his head then stopped, “Wait,
Abe is Rush’s new stepdad. I met him before he and Georgiana left for Paris.”
Paris? Rush? What? I waited for more of an explanation but the guy continued to stare at the gun and hold his breath. Keeping my eyes on him, I lowered my protection and made sure to put the safety back on before tucking it under my seat. Maybe with the gun put away the guy could focus and explain.
“Do you even have a license for that thing?” he asked incredulously.
I wasn’t in the mood to talk about my right to bear arms. I needed answers.
“Abraham is in Paris?” I asked needing confirmation. He knew I was coming today. We’d just talked last week after I’d sold the house.
The guy nodded slowly and his stance relaxed. “You know him?”
Not really. I had seen him all of two times since he’d walked out on my mom and me five years ago. I remembered the Dad who’d come to my soccer games and grilled burgers outside for the neighborhood block parties. The Dad I’d had until the day my twin sister Valerie was killed in a car accident. My father had been driving. He’d changed that day. The man that didn’t call me and make sure I was okay while I took care of my sick mother, I didn’t know him. Not at all.
“I’m his daughter, Blaire.”
The guy’s eyes went wide and he threw back his head and laughed. Why was this funny? I waited for him to explain when he held out his hand. “Come on Blaire, I have someone you need to meet. He’s gonna love this.”
I stared down at his hand and reached for my purse.
“Are you packing in your purse too? Should I warn everyone not to piss you off?” The teasing lilt to his voice kept me from saying something rude.
“You opened my door without knocking. I was scared.”
“Your instant reaction to being scared is to pull out a gun on someone? Damn
girl, where are you from? Most girls I know squeal or some shit like that.”
Most girls he knew hadn’t been forced to protect themselves for the past three
years. I’d had my mother to take care of but no one to take care of me. “I’m from Alabama,” I replied ignoring his hand and stepping out of the truck myself.
The sea breeze hit my face and the salty smell of the beach was unmistakable. I’d never seen the beach before. At least not in person. I’d seen pictures and movies. But the smell, it was exactly like I expected it to be.
“So it’s true what they say about girls from Bama,” he replied and I turned my attention to him.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes scanned down my body and back up to my face. A grin stretched slowly across his face. “Tight jeans, tank tops, and a gun. Damn, I’ve been living in the wrong fucking state.”
Rolling my eyes, I reached into the back of the truck. I had a suitcase and then several boxes that I needed to drop off at the Goodwill.
“Here, let me get it.” He stepped around me then reached into the truck bed for the large piece of luggage my mom had kept tucked away in her closet for that “road trip” we never got to take. She always talked about how we’d drive across the country and then up the west coast one day. Then she’d gotten sick.
Shaking off the memories, I focused on the present. “Thank you, uh… I don’t think I got your name.”
The guy pulled the suitcase out then turned back to me.
“What? You forgot to ask when you had the nine-millimeter pointed at my face?” he replied.
I sighed. Okay, maybe I’d gone a little overboard with the gun but he’d scared me.
“I’m Grant, a, uh, friend of Rush’s.”
“Rush?” There was that name again. Who was Rush?
Grant’s grin grew big once again. “You don’t know who Rush is?” He was extremely amused. “I’m so fucking glad I came tonight.”
He nodded his head toward the house, “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
I walked beside him as he led me to the house. The music inside got louder as we got closer. If my dad wasn’t here, then who was? I knew Georgiana was his new wife but that was all I knew. Was this a party her kids were having? How old were they? She did have kids, didn’t she? I couldn’t remember. Dad had been vague. He’d said I’d like my new family but he hadn’t said who that family was exactly.
“So, does Rush live here?” I asked.
“Yeah, he does, at least in the summer. He moves to his other houses according to the season.”
“His other houses?”
Grant chuckled, “You don’t know anything about this family your dad has married into, do you, Blaire?”
He had no idea. I shook my head.
“Quick mini lesson then before we walk inside the madness,” he replied stopping at the top of the stairs leading to the front door and looked at me. “Rush Finlay is your stepbrother. He’s the only child of the famous drummer for Slacker Demon, Dean Finlay. His parents never married. His mother, Georgianna, was a groupie back in the day. This is his house. His mother gets to live here because he allows it.” He stopped and looked back at the door, as it swung open. “These are all his friends.”
A tall, willowy, strawberry blonde wearing a short royal blue dress and a pair of heels that I’d break my neck in if I tried to wear them stood there staring at me. I didn’t miss the distaste in her scowl. I didn’t know much about people like this but I did know that my department store clothing wasn’t something she approved of. Either that or I had a bug crawling on me.
“Well, hello Nannette,” Grant replied in an annoyed tone.
“Who is she?” the girl asked, shifting her gaze to Grant.
“A friend. Wipe the snarl off your face Nan it isn’t an attractive look for you,” he replied, reaching over to grab my hand and pull me into the house behind him.
The room wasn’t as full as I’d assumed. As we walked past the large open foyer an arched doorway led into what I assumed was a living room. Even so, it was bigger than my entire house or what had been my house. Two glass doors were standing open with a breathtaking view of the ocean. I wanted to see that up close.
“This way,” Grant instructed as he made his way over to a… bar? Really? There was a bar in the house?
I glanced over the people we passed by. They all paused for a moment and gave me a quick once over. I stood out big time.
“Rush, meet Blaire, I believe she might belong to you. I found her outside looking a little lost,” Grant said and I swung my gaze from the curious people to see who this Rush was.
Oh.
Oh. My.
“Is that so?” Rush replied in a lazy drawl and leaned forward from his relaxed position on the white sofa with a beer in his hand. “She’s cute but she’s young. Can’t say she’s mine.”
“Oh, she’s yours alright. Seeing as her daddy has run off to Paris with your momma for the next few weeks. I’d say this one now belongs to you. I’d gladly offer her a room at my place if you want. That is if she promises to leave her deadly weapon in the truck.”
Rush narrowed his eyes and studied me closely. They were an odd color. Stunningly unusual. They weren’t brown. They weren’t hazel. They were a warm color with some silver laced through them. I’d never seen anything like them. Could they be contacts?
“That doesn’t make her mine,” he finally replied and leaned back on the sofa where he’d been reclining when we walked up.
Grant cleared his throat. “You’re kidding, right?”
Rush didn’t reply. Instead he took a drink from the longneck bottle in his hands. His gaze had shifted to Grant’s and I could see the warning there. I was going to be asked to leave. This wasn’t good. I had exactly twenty dollars in my purse and I was almost out of gas. I’d already sold anything of value that I possessed. When I’d called my father I had explained that I just needed somewhere to stay until I could get a job and make enough money to go find a place of my own. He had quickly agreed and given me this address telling me he would love for me to come stay with him.
Rush’s attention was back on me. He was waiting on me to make a move. What did he expect me to say? A smirk touched his lips and he winked at me.
“I got a house full of guests tonight and my bed’s already full.” He shifted his eyes to Grant. “I think it’s best if we let her go find a hotel until I can get in touch with her daddy.”
The disgust on his tongue as he said the words “daddy” hadn’t gone unnoticed. He didn’t like my father. I couldn’t blame him really. This wasn’t his fault. My dad had sent me here. I’d wasted most of my money on gas and food driving here. Why had I trusted that man?
I reached over and grabbed the handle on the suitcase that Grant was still holding. “He’s right. I should go. This was a very bad idea,” I explained without looking at him. I tugged hard on the suitcase and he let go somewhat reluctantly. Tears stung my eyes as the realization that I was about to be homeless sunk in. I couldn’t look at either of them.
Turning, I headed for the door, keeping my eyes downcast. I heard Grant arguing with Rush but I blocked it out. I didn’t want to hear what that beautiful man said about me. He didn’t like me. That much was obvious. My dad was not a welcome member of the family apparently.
“Leaving so soon?” a voice that reminded me of smooth syrup asked. I glanced up to see the delighted smile on the girl who had opened the door earlier. She hadn’t wanted me here either. Was I that revolting to these people? I quickly dropped my eyes back to the floor and opened the door. I had too much pride for that mean bitch to see me cry.
Once I was safely outside I let out a sob and headed to my truck. If I hadn’t been carrying my suitcase I’d have run. I needed the safety of it. I belonged inside my truck, not in this ridiculous house with these uppity people. I missed home. I missed my mom. Another sob broke free and I closed the door to my truck locking it behind me.
Chapter Two
I wiped my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath. I couldn’t fall apart now. I hadn’t fallen apart when I’d sat holding my mother’s hand as she took her last breath. I hadn’t fallen apart as they lowered her into the cold ground. And I hadn’t fallen apart when I’d sold the only place I had to live. I would not fall apart now. I would get through this.
I didn’t have enough for a hotel room but I had my truck. I could live in my truck. Finding a safe place to park it at night would be my only problem. This town seemed safe enough but I was pretty sure this old truck parked anywhere overnight would draw attention. I’d have the cops knocking on my window before I could even fall asleep. I would have to use my last twenty dollars on fuel. Then I could drive into a larger city where my truck would go unnoticed in a parking lot.
Maybe I could park behind a restaurant and get a job there too. I wouldn’t need gas to get to and from work. My stomach growled reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since this morning. I would need to spend a couple dollars on some food. Then pray I would find a job in the morning.
I would be okay. I turned my head to check behind me before I cranked the truck and backed out. Silver eyes stared back at me.
A small scream escaped me before I realized that it was Rush. What was he doing standing outside my truck? Had he come to make sure I left his property? I really didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I started to turn my eyes away and focus on getting out of there when he cocked an eyebrow at me. What did that mean?
You know what? I really didn’t care. Even if he looked ridiculously sexy doing it. I started to crank the truck but instead of the roar of the engine, I was met with a click and some silence. Oh no. Not now. Please not now.
I jiggled the key and prayed I was wrong. I knew the gas gauge was broken but I’d been watching the mileage. I shouldn’t be out of gas. I had a few more miles. I know I did.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel and called the truck a few choice names but nothing happened. I was stuck. Would Rush call the police? He wanted me off his property so badly he’d come out here to make sure I left. Now that I couldn’t leave would he have me arrested? Or worse, call a tow truck. I did not have the money to get my truck back if he did that. At least in jail I’d have a bed and food.
Swallowing the lump lodged firmly in my throat I opened the truck door and hoped for the best.
“Problems?” he asked.
I wanted to scream to the top of my lungs in frustration. Instead, I managed a nod. “I’m out of gas.” Rush let out a sigh. I didn’t speak. I decided waiting on the verdict was the best option here. I could always beg and plead afterward.
“How old are you?”
What? Was he really asking me my age? I was stuck in his driveway, he wanted me to leave and instead of discussing my options he was asking me my age. The guy was strange.
“Nineteen,” I replied.
Rush raised both his eyebrows, “Really?”
I was trying hard not to get pissed off. I needed this guy to have mercy on me. Forcing the snide comment that was on the tip of my tongue back, I smiled. “Yes. Really.”
Rush grinned and shrugged. “Sorry. You just look younger.” He stopped and his eyes trailed down my body and back up again slowly. The sudden heat in my cheeks was embarrassing. “I take that back. Your body looks every bit of nineteen. It’s that face of yours that looks so fresh and young. You don’t wear makeup?”
Was that a question? What was he doing? I wanted to know what my immediate future held, not discuss the fact that wearing makeup was a luxury that I couldn’t afford. Besides, Cain, my exboyfriend and current best friend, had always said I didn’t need to add to my looks any. Whatever that meant.
“I’m out of gas. I have twenty dollars to my name. My fatherhas run off and left me after telling me he’d help me get back on my feet. Trust me; he was the LAST person I wanted to ask for help. No, I don’t wear makeup. I have bigger problems than looking pretty. Now, are you going to call the police or a tow truck? I prefer the police in case I get a choice.” I snapped my mouth closed ending my rant. He’d pushed me too far and I hadn’t been able to control my mouth. Now, I’d stupidly given him the stupid notion of a tow truck. Dangit.
Rush tilted his head and studied me. The silence was almost more than I could handle. I’d just shared a little too much information with this guy. He could make my life harder if he wanted to.
“I don’t like your father and from the tone in your voice, neither do you,” he said thoughtfully. “There is one room that is empty tonight. It will be until my mom gets home. I don’t keep her maid around when she isn’t here. Mrs. Henrietta only stops by to clean once a week while Mom is on vacation. You can have her bedroom under the stairs. It’s small but it’s got a bed.”
He was offering me a room. I would not burst into tears. I could do that later tonight. I wasn’t going to jail. Thank God.
“My only other option is this truck. I can assure you that what you’re offering is much better. Thank you.”
Rush frowned a moment, then it vanished quickly and he had an easy smile on his face again. “Where’s your suitcase?” he asked.
I closed the truck door and walked over to the back of the truck to get it out. Before I could reach for it, a warm body that smelled foreign and delicious reached over me. I froze as Rush grabbed my luggage and pulled it out.
Turning around I looked up at him. He winked at me. “I can carry your bag. I’m not that big of an ass.”
“Thank you, again,” I stuttered, unable to look away from his gaze. Those eyes of his were incredible. The thick black lashes that framed them almost looked like eyeliner. He had an all-natural highlighter around his eyes. It was completely unfair. My lashes were blonde. What I wouldn’t give for lashes like his.
“Ah, good, you stopped her. I was giving you five minutes and then coming out here to make sure you hadn’t completely run her off.” Grant’s familiar voice snapped me out of my daze and I spun around thankful for an interruption. I had been gazing up at Rush like an idiot. I’m surprised he hadn’t sent me packing again.
“She’s gonna take Henrietta’s room until I can get in touch with her father and figure something out.” Rush sounded annoyed. He stepped around me and handed Grant the suitcase. “Here, you take her to her room. I have company to get back to.”
Rush walked off without a backwards glance. It took all my willpower not to watch him walk away. Especially since his backside in a pair of jeans was extremely tempting. He was not someone I needed to be attracted to.
“He is one moody sonuvabitch,” Grant said, shaking his head and looking back at me. I couldn’t disagree with him.
“You don’t have to carry my suitcase inside again,” I said reaching for it.
Grant moved it back out of my reach. “I happen to be the charming brother. I’m not about to let you carry this suitcase when I have two very strong not to mention pretty damn impressive arms to carry them with.”
I would have smiled if not for the one word that had just thrown me for a loop. “Brother?” I replied.
Grant smiled but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I forgot to mention that I’m the kid of Georgianna’s husband number two. She stayed married to my dad from the time I was three years old and Rush was four until I was fifteen. By then, Rush and I were brothers. Just because my dad divorced his mom didn’t change anything for us. We went to college together and even joined the same frat.”
Oh. Okay. I hadn’t been expecting that. “How many husbands has Georgianna had?”
Grant let out a short hard laugh then started walking toward the door. “Your dad is husband number four.”
My dad was an idiot. This woman sounded like she went through husbands like she did panties. How long before she got rid of him and moved on?
Grant walked back up the steps and didn’t say anything else to me while we headed toward the kitchen. It was massive with black marble countertops and elaborate appliances. It reminded me of something out of a home decorating magazine. Then he opened a door that looked like a large walk in pantry. Confused I looked around then followed him inside. He walked to the back of it and opened another door.
He had enough room to walk inside and put my suitcase on the bed. I followed him in and scooted around the twin size bed that left only a few inches between it and the door. It was obvious I was under the stairs. A small nightstand fit tightly between the bed and the wall. Other than that, there was nothing.
“I have no idea where you are supposed to keep your luggage. This room is small. I’ve never actually been back here.” Grant shook his head and then sighed. “Listen, if you want to come to my apartment with me you can. I’ll at least give you a bedroom that you can move around in.”
As nice as Grant was I wasn’t about to take him up on that offer. He didn’t need an unwanted houseguest taking up one of his bedrooms. At least here I was tucked away so no one would see me. I could clean up around the house and get a job somewhere. Maybe Rush would let me sleep in this small unused room until I had enough money to move out. I didn’t feel like I was imposing so badly back here. I’d find a grocery story tomorrow and use my twenty dollars for some food. Peanut butter and bread should get me through a week or so.
“This is perfect. I’m out of the way back here. Besides, Rush is calling my dad tomorrow and finding out when he will be home. Maybe my father has a plan. I don’t know. Thank you though, I really appreciate the offer.”
Grant looked around the room one more time and scowled. He wasn’t happy about this room but I was relieved. It was sweet of him to care.
“I hate leaving you back here. It feels wrong.” He looked back at me this time with a pleading sound to his voice.
“This is great. Much better than my truck would have been.”
Grant frowned. “Truck? You were gonna sleep in your truck?”
“Yes. I was. This, however, gives me a little time to figure out what I’m gonna do next.”
Grant ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “Will you promise me something?” he asked.
I wasn’t one to make promises. What I knew of promises was that they were easily broken. I shrugged. It was the best I could do.
“If Rush makes you leave, call me.”
I started to agree and realized I didn’t have his phone number.
“Where’s your phone so I can put my number in it?” he asked.
This was going to make me sound even more pathetic. “I don’t have one.”
Grant gaped at me, “You don’t have a cell phone? No wonder you carry a damn gun.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a receipt. “You got a pen?”
I pulled one out of my purse and handed it to him.
He quickly scribbled his number down and then handed the paper and the pen to me. “Call me. I mean it.”
I would never call him but it was nice that he was offering. I nodded. I hadn’t promised anything.
“I hope you sleep okay in here.” He looked around the small room with concern in his eyes. I would sleep wonderfully.
“I will,” I assured him.
He nodded and stepped out of the room closing the door behind him. I waited until I heard him close the pantry door as well before I sat down on the bed beside my suitcase. This was good. I could work with this.
Chapter Three
Even with no windows in the room to tell me if the sun was up, I knew I’d slept late. I had been exhausted but a long eight-hour drive and footsteps on the stairs for hours after I’d laid down kept me from sleeping. Stretching, I sat up and reached for the light switch on the wall. The small bulb lit the room and I reached under the bed to pull out my suitcase.
I needed a shower and I needed to use the restroom. Maybe everyone would still be asleep and I could sneak in and out of a bathroom without anyone noticing. Grant hadn’t shown me where one was last night. This was all I’d been offered. Hopefully a quick shower wouldn’t be pushing the limit.
I grabbed clean panties and a pair of black shorts with a sleeveless white top. If I was lucky, I’d get in and out of the shower and be cleaning up before Rush made his way downstairs.
I opened the door leading into the pantry then walked through the rows of shelves that held more food than anyone could possibly need. I slowly turned the doorknob on the door and eased it open. The kitchen light was off and the only light was the bright sun streaming in through the large windows overlooking the ocean. If I didn’t need to pee so badly I would go enjoy the view a moment. But nature was calling and I had to go. The house was silent. Empty drinks littered the place, along with leftover food and some pieces of clothing. I could clean this up. If I proved to be useful I might get to stay until I could get a job and a paycheck or two.
I slowly opened the first door I came to, afraid it could be a bedroom. It was a walk-in closet. Closing it, back I made my way down the hall toward the stairs. If the only bathrooms were attached to bedrooms I was screwed. Except… maybe there was one that people used outside after being in the beach all day. Henrietta had to take showers and use the restroom too. Turning around I headed back to the kitchen and the two glass doors that had been standing open last night. Glancing around, I noticed a set of steps going down and underneath the house. I followed them.
At the bottom were two doors. I opened one and life jackets, surfboards and floats covered the walls. I went and opened the other one. Bingo.
A toilet was on one side and a small shower took up the other side of the room. Shampoo, conditioner and soap along with a fresh washcloth and a towel was on the small stool beside it. How convenient.
Once I was clean and dressed I hung the towel and bath cloth over the shower rod. This bathroom wasn’t used often. I could use the same towel and washcloth all week and then wash them on the weekends. If I was here that long.
