Redemption (Forgiven Series)

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Authors: Rebecca Brooke

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Redemption (Forgiven Series)
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Redemption

Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Brooke

 

Cover Design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design

www.maeidesign.com

 

Editing by Ryn Hughes of Delphi Rose

https://www.facebook.com/DelphiRose‎

 

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin of Fictional Formats

https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats‎

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

 

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

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

 

All rights reserved.

Prologue

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

 

 

 

To Josh and Danielle, the sky is
never
the limit. Why stop at the clouds when you can reach for the stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

FORGIVENESS is the first step on the road to REDEMPTION.

—Unknown

 

 

 

“You can’t keep doing this to us!” Mom screamed from the living room.

Mom and Dad were fighting again, so I was hiding out in my room. I hated to see Mom upset, but that’s what happened every time he came to stay with us.

“I can do anything I fucking want, you dumb bitch,” Dad shouted back.

“How am I supposed to pay the bills and put food on the table, Alan?”

“Not my problem. You wanted to have his sorry ass, you deal with it. Now my back’s feeling better I don’t need to stay here anymore,” he barked.
Why didn’t my dad want me?
Things used to be different. Before the accident… before the pills.

“Your back only feels better because you’re taking the pills again.”

“So what? You need to get off my back and realize I’ll never be happy with you.”

The front door slammed shut. After a few minutes I decided to be brave and go find Mom. This wasn’t the first time he’d walked out on us. Mom had tried to tell me once that Dad loved us but he was sick, and that’s why he would say mean things. I saw him taking the pills one time. When I’d asked him what they were, he’d just yelled at me and sent me to my room until Mom came home.

In the kitchen, Mom sat at the table with her head in her hands. I walked over to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. “Mom, are you okay?”

She lifted her head slowly, like it took all of her strength just to look me in the eye. Shiny trails left by newly-shed tears marked her face and her eyes were red and bloodshot. Once again, he’d made her cry. Someday I would be big enough to make him stop. She reached out her hand to touch my cheek. “Yeah, baby boy, but it’s going to be just me and you again.”

“I like when it is just the two of us,” I said, and I really did. Even though Mom was sad when Dad left, things got better. We were happier without him.

She pulled me into her arms. “Oh, baby, you should be able to grow up with both of your parents. Those stupid pills took your father away from us.”

I wasn’t sure what
those stupid pills
were, but I’d seen him take them ever since he’d fallen at work. From that day on things had never been the same. Before that day, my dad and I were close. He was the one who taught me how to catch a football, and on Sunday afternoons we’d go fishing. Then everything changed. At first it was hard to get used to the way things were and I missed who my dad used to be, but I liked what they had eventually become. I didn’t miss my father when he was gone. Most of the time, I hoped that this time would be that last. That next time he showed up on our doorstep, my mother would slam the door in his face.

 

But he always came back, and she never slammed the door in his face.

 

I really, really wish she had.

 

 

 

“Shit, man, I can’t believe graduation is only a few months away,” Tyler said looking at me out of the corner of his eye, a huge smile on his face.

“Thank God. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take,” I said, shaking my head.

He started laughing. “You do realize that by accepting a scholarship you’re going have to
actually
study?”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “I know, but it’ll be different in college. I’ll be able to take classes I actually like, not this stupid crap they make us take.”

We continued the drive back from school, joking about graduation. Tyler always picked me up and dropped me off when my car wasn’t running. We pulled up outside my house and I reached into the back to grab my bag.

“Dude, whose car is that?” Tyler asked.

I looked at the car in the driveway. I’d never seen it before but I knew exactly who owned it. We hadn’t seen him in five years and I’d hoped we would never have to see him again.

“SHIT! I don’t feel like dealing with that asshole,” I fumed.

“Are you telling me that’s your dad’s car? When was the last time you saw him?” Tyler turned to face me. His eyebrows arched and his hands relaxed on the steering wheel so I knew he was curious. Tyler was one of the few friends who knew about my dad’s issues with the drugs. He was actually there the last time my father walked out on us—back when I was a scrawny twelve year old. That time I’d told him if he ever came back, I’d throw him out myself. Mom had promised after he’d left that she was never letting him come back again. He’d practically wiped out Mom’s bank account and we’d struggled for a while after that. No way I was doing that again. A month shy of my eighteenth birthday, this time I was going to kick that fucker out of my house, and out of our lives, for good.

I scrambled from the car without answering Tyler’s question, but heard his footsteps as he followed me toward the house. I threw open the front door and saw the son of a bitch standing in the living room. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mother sitting on the couch, her head in her hands as she choked back the sobs.

“What the fuck are
you
doing here?” I yelled.

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way, I’m your father,” he bellowed. The sound of knuckles cracking filled the air as his fists clenched at his sides. It’d been five years, but he still wore the same sneer on his face. He took a step toward me and I knew he expected me to back down, but what he failed to realize was that I wasn’t intimidated by him anymore. Back when I was twelve he seemed like a giant. Now, at six foot two, I had a good four inches on him and, thanks to Coach busting our asses at the gym, I had an extra twenty pounds of muscle.

“You’re not my father.” I shot him a look of disgust. “You gave up the right to call yourself that when you decided to walk out on us for the pills,” I snapped.

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