What's Left of Me Read online

  Table of Contents

  What’s Left of Me

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Kimberly Lewis

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 Kimberly Lewis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9852752-6-6

  Printed in the United States of America

  Cover Design by Kimberly Lewis

  Cover image purchased from Dreamstime.com

  Edited by Samantha Wheaton, Redlineediting.com

  DEDICATION

  For my best friend Ashley.

  1

  JENNA

  I’ve never been afraid of the dark. Ever. Monsters under the bed, bogeymen in the closet … none of that ever fazed me as a child. But now, at twenty-five? The heavy footsteps against the porch planks right outside my open window quickly remind me that monsters are indeed very real, and my peaceful night in the woods has veered into the unknown.

  Reaching for my phone, I hide beneath the bed covers to douse the illumination from the screen. The “no signal” notification sends a jolt of terror down my spine that travels throughout my body as I realize the danger of my situation. I’m in the middle of nowhere with no one to run to for help, and I start to panic.

  The moment soon passes though and something inside me shifts. Suddenly, I’m invincible—or just incredibly stupid. I quietly step out of the bed and tip-toe down the tiny hall with my back pressed against the wall, like I’m a top secret agent in an action flick only I’m armed with nothing. My eyes dart around the main area of the house, searching for anything I can use to defend myself. The moon glowing through the window sheers grants me the ability to make out the shapes of objects … and him. The lurker. My intruder. I see him through the glass panes of the door with his head down as he toys with the lock and he’s big. Much bigger than my five-and-a-half-foot frame.

  Fear grips me tight in my chest, but my incredible stupidity—I mean invincibility—takes over and I dart for the kitchen, snatching the metal teapot from the stove top and crouching behind the center island. I close my eyes and pray he didn’t see me. The door slowly opens with a soft creak; I hear his shoes thunk against the hardwood floors, although I have no idea how I even manage to hear anything over the deafening pounding in my ears. Taking a few deep breaths, I carefully ease my head around the side of the cabinet just as a duffel bag drops to the floor with a thud. My heart takes off. Who knows what’s in that bag of tricks, but I refuse to find out and fall victim to whatever this creep has planned.

  Gathering every ounce of courage in me, I emerge from my hiding space and lunge toward the man, swinging the kettle with everything I’ve got. I aim high, hoping to knock him in the head, but he’s so tall that I’m pretty sure I only manage to hit his shoulder. A deep, surprised grunt slices through the silence, and I’m high on adrenaline knowing I’ve inflicted him some pain. I draw my arm back, ready to strike again, when two large hands firmly grab hold of me and throw me up against the wall. The kettle slips from my grip and the back of my head throbs, but I keep fighting—”defeat” an unknown word in my vocabulary. I kick and squirm, but his whole body presses against me, immobilizing me and proving that I’m no match for him.

  “I’ve already called the cops, you filthy pervert!” I lie, hoping to instill some fear into him with the threat of law enforcement. “They’ll be here any second, so you better get your hands off of me!” I wiggle again, straining at his impressive grip and scream at the top of my lungs when the sound of my name stops me.

  I know that voice.

  “Jenna?” the man repeats softly. “Is that you?”

  Blood rushes back through my limbs as I’m freed of his hold, and even though my initial instinct is to flee, I stay put, comforted by the growing familiarity of this man. The lights flick on, and I blink against the brightness before focusing on the image in front of me.

  I know him.

  “Cole?” My breathing is erratic from all of the excitement as I attempt to calm myself. I have a hard time believing that it’s him, but it is. His dark hair is still short, but significantly longer than he’d worn back when he was in active duty. Dark stubble now covers his once clean shaven jawline. And his eyes, the same warm brown I remember, hold a depth of sorrow I knew all too well.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me, concern creasing his brow. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  I can’t stop staring at him as he backs away, but I force my brain to function and answer his question. “I’m okay,” I say. “You scared the crap out of me, though. What are you doing here? I haven’t seen or heard from you since …” I let my thought trail off.

  “It’s been a long time,” he says, and I see a ghost of a smile flick across his mouth.

  “Four years,” I clarify. “Does Emma know that you’re—”

  “No,” Cole interrupts me. “No one knows.” He looks at me with an almost panicked expression and timidly asks, “She’s not here is she?”

  “Your sister would be a pretty terrible best friend if she were here.” I shake my head and laugh, unable to help myself.

  A soft chuckle escapes from Cole, and for a moment his brown eyes don’t seem so haunted. “True. I’m kind of glad she wasn’t here to help with that covert attack.” He rubs his bicep and looks around at the floor. “What’d you hit me with?”

  I bite my bottom lip and feel my cheeks grow warm. “Your mom’s tea kettle.”

  Cole spots it and lifts it from where it landed. “Lucky for me she doesn’t keep a cast iron pan lying around,” I hear him mutter.

  A smile curves my lips as I take the kettle and move past him into the kitchen.

  “So what brings you to my parents’ lake house at this hour?” Cole asks as he trails behind me. “I take it from the jammies that you’re sleeping here?”

  “Yes.” With my back turned to him, I place the kettle on the counter and glance down at my “jammies.” The long bottoms were okay, but my thin cami left little to the imagination. “My apartment is in unlivable conditions at the moment, so Emma asked your parents if I could stay here.” I cross my arms over my chest in an effort to cover up and turn around to look at Cole. His eyes quickly flick up to mine; when I realize he was most certainly staring at my backside, my cheeks flush again, and I’m instantly filled with a shyness I can’t really explain. The little flutter in my stomach is also a reaction I can’t quite process.

  “Unlivable conditions?” he asks. “Like what?”

  “Like half of my apartment is nothing but soot and scorched memories.” Cole’s eyebrows crease in confusion so I elaborate. “My neighbor apparently left a candle burning unattended. The fire took all of her place, part of mine, and her neighbor’s on the other side.”


  “Jesus, Jenna,” Cole replies with a concerned expression. “You weren’t home, were you?”

  He moves toward me, and the action appears to be purely out of concern, but it still makes me feel strange. Cole Sullivan has been a part of my life from the time I was six years old—ever since I moved from Indiana to Virginia and instantly bonded with his younger sister over our mutual love of My Little Pony and annoying our older brothers. But not once in all of our years knowing each other do I remember him ever looking at me like … that. It wasn’t so much the worried look on his face that threw me, but the devastation that mingled with it—like if anything bad had happened to me he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  “No,” I tell him and shake my head. “I was out when it happened.”

  “Thank God,” I hear him say softly. “Why didn’t you just stay with Emma?”

  “Because she’s hosting your Uncle Roy and Aunt Marina along with their three kids for the week,” I answer. “They came down for your mom’s big birthday bash this coming weekend.” I meet his eyes and stare at him intently. “Enough about me, though. I’m more curious as to why you’re here, Cole.”

  2

  COLE

  ”I’m coming back to Virginia.” My palms curl around the edge of the countertop as I lean back into it, patiently waiting for Jenna’s reply.

  “For how long?” Her voice is soft as she draws her eyebrows together, creating a tiny wrinkle between them, and I’m almost positive she’s replaying my last trip home in her mind.

  Four years may have passed, but that day, and everything leading up to it, sits fresh in my head. I battle with those unsettling thoughts every single day and night. But right now? All I can think about how pretty she is. All of my memories and any pictures I own would never do justice to her actual presence. Even her standing here in front of me, wearing those pink flamingo pajama bottoms and her blonde hair knotted on the top of her head, still does something to me. She always has.

  “For good,” I tell her, and she acknowledges me with a small nod then pushes herself away from the counter.

  “Your parents will be happy about that, and Emma too.” Jenna grabs a stemmed glass from the cabinet above and holds another out for me.

  “I’m good.” I graciously wave her offer away and try not to let it get to me that she didn’t include herself in that “happy to have you back” comment. After all, why should she be happy to see me? “Thanks, though.”

  Closing the cabinet behind her, Jenna retrieves a bottle of wine from the fridge and pours herself a glass. “Why the secrecy?” she asks and takes a drink. “Why not just tell them you were planning to come back?”

  I shrug. “Thought it’d be for the best. Although now I wish I had told someone, so we could’ve avoided this whole scaring the crap out of you thing.” I shoot her a grin, praying I still have some charm, and meet her gaze.

  Her green eyes shimmer with amusement, and it travels down to her mouth as she pulls her glass away to smirk. “That would’ve been nice.”

  My grin widens and I move to grab my duffel bag from the floor. Having abandoned my original plan to lay low at the lake house, I now need to figure out where I’m going stay for the next week. “I’m really sorry I startled you,” I say and pull the bag’s strap onto my shoulder. “And even though this isn’t the most ideal time, being the middle of the night and all, it was really good seeing you.” Crossing the short distance, I grace her with a soft nod and reach for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Jenna asks, and I stop with my fingers curled around the handle. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “Well … yeah,” I answer her, stumbling over my words a bit. “I can’t stay here and impose on your space—especially since I just showed up out of the blue. I’ll just sleep in my truck tonight and find somewhere else to—”

  “Cole Sullivan, you’ll do no such thing,” Jenna states with a firmness no doubt perfected from her years of teaching. “This is your parents’ place, so if anyone’s leaving, it’s me.”

  “I’m not about to kick you out, Jenna. You need the place more than I do. It’s seriously fine. I’m sure I can get a motel room or something.”

  “Just … stay. Please?” Jenna says, and her voice is softer this time. “We’re old friends, so let’s help each other. I’m sure we can work this out somehow.”

  Old friends. That’s all we were and all we are. God help me if she really knew how I felt—how I’ve felt every day since I was seventeen but was too stupid to take my chance when I had it.

  “Plus,” she continues, “the company would actually be quite nice. It’s kind of scary how bad things could have ended up if it hadn’t been you sneaking into the house.”

  The image of what could’ve happened if this had been a different scenario flashes through my brain, and every muscle in my body tenses. It takes me a minute, but I relax knowing nothing like that is going to happen as long as I’m here to protect her. “All right,” I say and place my bag by the door. ”I’ll stay.”

  Gunshots pierce through the still silence—sharp pops of each bullet exiting the barrel echo as a woman cries out. The air around me vibrates with insane energy as my heart races, making adrenaline pump like wildfire through my veins. I dive for cover and reach for my firearm but—fucking hell, where is it?

  “Oh my gosh! Cole, I’m so sorry!”

  Jenna? What the fuck is she doing? She shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous. Where is she?

  I glance around, my breathing heavy and uneven as I try to pinpoint her location, but everything’s so goddamn blurry. And the ringing … God, the ringing in my ears makes it damn near impossible to hear her. But I have to find her and get her out of here. I have to save her. I can’t fail again. I won’t.

  “Cole?”

  Her sweet voice surrounds me, comforts me, soothes me, and I realize I’m not in a war zone but crouched in front of the sofa. I breathe hard and wipe the sweat that coats my forehead. Jesus. I haven’t had an episode like that in months. My chest rises and falls with every deep intake of air, and I try my hardest to calm my uneasy nerves.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Jenna tells me, and I turn to see her standing with her hands braced against the back of the sofa. “I was just trying to cook some breakfast but ended up toppling over the Jenga tower of pans your mom has in the cabinet.” She smiles and a wave of calm washes over me.

  “It’s okay.” I release a heavy breath and scrub my hands over my face once more before standing up. When I look over to her, I instantly notice the rosy color in the apples of her cheeks as her eyes meet mine. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, so my near-nakedness must have taken her by surprise. “Sorry,” I say, relaxing my breathing as I reach for my bag. “I’m just gonna grab a quick shower.”

  Steam fills the room, and the hot water eases the tension in my muscles as it cascades over my skin. When I exit the bathroom, dressed in a t-shirt and cargo shorts, I’m greeted with the aroma of coffee and bacon.

  “That smells good,” I say appreciatively. “Mind if I grab a cup of that coffee?”

  “Not at all,” Jenna replies as she works on flipping the bacon and dodging the grease as it spits from the pan. “Help yourself, there’s plenty. Do you want some bacon or eggs too?”

  From the corner of my eye, I take in her appearance and hold back a grin. She’s still wearing those pink flamingo pants, but she’s thrown on a baggy t-shirt over that rather skimpy top she wore last night. “I’m good with coffee for now, but thanks.” I grab a mug and fill it to the brim.

  “Suit yourself, Sullivan,” she says and promptly adds bacon and eggs to the plate sitting next to her. “More for me.” With her now filled plate in hand, Jenna moves to the table and dives into her meal. “Oh crud, I left my coffee sitting by the—”

  “Stay there, I got it.” Grabbing her mug from the counter, I walk over and join her at the table.

  “Thanks,” she says as she ta
kes the mug from my hand before taking a careful sip.

  I nod and relax into my chair. “Got big plans for today?” Lame, I know, but I’m a little rusty at this small talk thing.

  Jenna doesn’t seem to notice, though. She acknowledges my lame attempt with a nod as she chews her food and points out the sliding glass door with her fork. “I have a date with that lounge chair and a book I’m about halfway through.”

  I lift my eyebrow and take a drink from my mug as I give her a skeptical look. “Is that all you’ve been doing the entire time you’ve been here?”

  “It’s my summer vacation,” she tells me. “I can be as lazy as I want, and you know what?” She licks her fork clean, just a delicate sweep of her tongue along the side, before tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m really good at it too.”

  It takes me a good few moments to realize she’s referring to herself as good at being lazy and not … yeah, I’m probably going to hell for what I was imaging her being good at.

  “That’s just crazy,” I tell her and shake my head in disapproval. “Here you are in one of the prettiest places on Earth, and all you’ve done is sit on your butt?”

  “And read,” she protests. The way her nose crinkles when she says that makes her look downright cute.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t have that.” Jenna looks at me like I’m nuts. Hell, maybe I am for what I’m about to do, but I can’t sit idly by and let another once in a lifetime chance pass me. I lean forward and cross my arms over the table. “Let me take you somewhere you’ve never been.”

  3