Prologue
~ Huntley ~
I know first-hand how hard life can be. I don’t pretend that it’s all butterflies and roses. When I moved to Breckinridge, Alabama, it was so that I could start over and forget about my past, even just for a little while. I had it all figured out then. I would go to college, graduate and then start my career as a child psychologist. For the most part it was simple, fool proof. Until Grayson Carter walked into my life.
He crashed into me at full speed and I found myself addicted to how he made me feel.
They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes but as I succumb to the darkness and the pain, I get a glimpse of what could’ve been mine. I feel a little hand slip around mine and look down, only to be met with green eyes that match Graysons’. The brown-haired little boy looks up at me and smiles before running away laughing. I watch, mesmerized, as Grayson appears, running after the little boy.
“No daddy,” the little boy squeals. He runs towards me and I open my arms for him to jump into. “Mommy!” he squeals again.
I kiss his forehead. “Mommy’s here,” I coo.
Grayson wraps his arms around us and I feel peace in this moment, unaware of what’s real and what’s not.
All I know is that I’m happy, and safe, and home.
Chapter 1
~ Huntley ~
“Are you ready sweetheart?”
I spin around at the sound of my aunts’ voice. She’s standing in the doorway to my old bedroom with a box tucked under her arm. “I’ll be down in a minute,” I reply
I take one last opportunity to look around my childhood bedroom, remembering where everything once stood. It would be impossible to forget this place but I would never be able to recall the few good memories it held. Those were all tainted, the innocence ripped apart and thrown away.
Thinking about my mother was difficult, especially when the house still smelled like her. It had been just over four months and her vanilla perfume still lingered everywhere, wrapping itself around me like a blanket. Every time I looked in the mirror, it was as if she was staring right back at me. I had her long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, heart shaped face and button nose. That was where our resemblance ended. Where she was short and willowy, I had inherited my fathers’ taller and slightly muscular build. Thinking about my parents brought a wistful smile to my face, the melancholy of the moment palpable.
I quickly wipe a tear that rolls down my cheek and pick up the rest of my meager possessions.
This was it. I was about walk out on seventeen years of memories and never look back. Was I ready for this? I had no idea. All I know is that I need a new beginning, a chance to start over and try to move forward with the pieces of my life that were left over.
As much as I want to forget the events that have lead me to this point, I wouldn’t be able to. They are of such a nature that remembering them would continue to keep me alive and safe. I need to remember how my mother died; it is a constant reminder of how close I came to making her mistakes. It has taken months to build the carefully constructed walls that now protected the pieces of my frail heart.
Moving to Breckinridge, Alabama wouldn’t keep me safe, I knew that, but it was the closest thing to home I’ve ever really had. I spent countless summers there visiting my Uncle Alex and Aunt Emma and after everything around me fell apart, it seemed the most logical place to go to. I needed family and since I didn’t have parents, my uncle and aunt were the next best thing. Literally.
“Ok, let’s get the show on the road”, my Uncle Alex yells from the front seat of his truck. My aunt meets me at the bottom of the stairs and pulls me into a one-armed hug before walking me to my Jeep.
As we pull away from the curb I look back one last time, wishing that my parents were here with me. The familiar ache that had made itself at home in my chest not so long ago returned and as soon as the small two bedroom, dilapidated house disappears from my view I promise myself that no matter what, no one would ever get close enough to break me again.
** ** ** ** **
It feels like days before we arrive in Breckinridge. It’s a quaint little town where everybody knows everybody and most people who were born here, died here.
My exhaustion is diminished as soon as we park in front of the apartment building where I’ll be staying while I attend Whitley University. I’d argued with my uncle and aunt over getting my own place since they lived twenty minutes away from the main campus, but eventually got them to concede. I got them to understand that it was never about whether or not I was welcome to stay with them, I needed my own place and the chance to experience college the way I was supposed to. I needed some form of normality. Admittedly, that in itself wasn’t going to be easy.
My apartment is on the fifth floor and the only two bedroom apartment left without a tenant. I was still deciding whether or not to get a roommate but figured I could use the extra room as a guest room in the meantime. The idea of having a complete stranger move in with me made me all sorts of uncomfortable, my imagination drifting to ending up with a potential serial killer or closet pervert for a roommate.
When I open the door and walk in there is no chance of suppressing the thrill that comes with finally having a place I can call my own.
The small foyer opens up to a spacious open plan living area, kitchen, balcony and another hallway to the left that leads to a master bedroom, guest bedroom and guest bathroom. Hardwood floors stretch through every space and compliments the earth tones that spread across the walls. It immediately feels like home. My little home.
To my surprise, it has already been furnished, with plush leather couches, a large brown shag carpet, and all the electronic equipment imaginable. Thinking how busy my aunt has been furnishing this place makes me laugh. She always goes above and beyond and I love her more for it.
Walking into the master bedroom, my attention immediately falls on the king size bed in the middle of the room. The covers are all ivory in color, and soft, with huge matching pillows. I would have to thank my aunt for buying me all this. I know they can afford it but I hate the thought of them spending money on me. It’s definitely a step up from the single bed I grew up with. In fact, everything around me is luxury I’m not accustomed to.
The feel of the plush white carpet under my toes is amazing, spreading across most of the hardwood floor. The walk-in closet, filled with new clothes, shoes and accessories catches my attention next
Oh. My. Goddamn… this stuff must’ve cost a fortune…
I let out a small gasp at the sight of the gorgeous clothes that I assume are now mine. The shoes are just as beautiful. I giggle when my eyes catch sight of not one but three, pairs of cowboy boots, all in different colors. It would be wrong not to have them, living in a place like this. This town was as Southern as they came.
“Did I get your sizes right sweetheart?”
I jump, startled at the sound of my Aunt Emma’s voice. “Aunt Em, this is too much! I can’t accept all this!” It really is too much.
“Oh nonsense! I may have gone a little overboard but it is nothing less than you deserve. Your Uncle Alex and I want you to feel at home, because as of right now this is and always will be your home. Besides, I didn’t want you starting you first day of classes tomorrow stickin’ out like a Barbie doll at a Rodeo.” She smiles and opens her arms, a gesture I’ve become very familiar with when she wants to hug me.