Read Shatter Me (The Jaded Series, #1) Online
Authors: Alex Grayson
SHATTER ME
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The Jaded Series #1
ALEX GRAYSON
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he Jaded Series #1
By Alex Grayson
Copyright © 2014 by Alex Grayson. All rights reserved.
Cover Design and Formatting by Kim Black at
TOJ Publishing Services
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
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ince the beginning of Shatter Me and throughout the whole process it has been my husband and daughter that has suffered from the time spent away from them. I gladly dedicate this book to them with my sincere apologies for the neglect and frustration it has caused. I love you both so much and thank you for understanding the importance of Shatter Me.
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his book contains content like rape, drugs, and hard situations that may trigger bad memories for those that has been in similar situations. Not suitable for anyone under 18.
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I'm running, as fast and as far as I can. My past is trying to shatter me, but I am determined not to let it. I've come this far, I won't let it break me now.
I had to stop in a small town to get enough money to run again, but I found myself wanting to stay. The reason? Jaxon Walker. He doesn't make me so afraid. He comforts me. But how much comfort will it take before my walls shatter? And what happens when my past finds me? Will it destroy me finally or could Jax possibly save me?
My name is Bailey Winsor and this is my story.
Chapter One
J
aded Hollow, OH – 6 miles ahead
I release a sigh, exhausted and nervous about my next stop on my long and tedious journey.
I’ve been driving since eight this morning, with a couple of stops in-between for restroom breaks and gas stops. It’s coming up on nine at night. I need to keep moving. I don’t want to give
him
the opportunity to find me.
Him,
being Steven, my worse nightmare, my worse fear, my husband. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice in the matter because my gas tank is running on fumes and my pocket book is getting low. I need to find a way to make a little cash before I move on.
My arms hurt from holding onto the steering wheel for so long and my legs are cramping from the constant push of the gas pedal. I’m so hungry I fear my internal organs will dry up and turn to dust due to lack of nourishment. I’m exhausted to the point where my eyes have that sandy, papery, gritty feel and I’m worried I might dose off behind the wheel.
Needless to say I’m ready to get out of my cramped, beat up old car that I bought for five hundred dollars at the beginning of my unplanned but wanted trip. All I want to do is get a quick bite to eat, fall into bed, sleep like the dead, and not get up for a week. I know finding a place to eat won’t be a problem. I’ve seen signs for Maggie's Diner up ahead in Jaded Hollow, which state it is an All-night diner. It’s finding a place to crash that will be an issue.
With about fifty dollars to my name I can’t even afford to rent a hotel for the night. Sleeping in my cramped car is definitely not appealing, but I have done it before and am prepared to do it again. I just hope I can find work in this middle of nowhere town that is to be my home for a short amount of time. Sleeping in my car for a few nights I can deal with, but I really don't want to wake up with a crick in my neck and cramps in my legs every day for weeks at a time until I can afford a place to stay.
It is dark out so I can't really see the landscape around me. From what I can see from the light of the moon and the shine of my headlights I am surrounded by woods. The road is curvy and there are a few small hills.
I slow my car when I reach a wooden sign that welcomes me to Jaded Hollow, OH. It looks old and the scene on it represents the country town I’m about to enter; a farmhouse with silos sitting behind it and a field of corn.
I speed back up, anxious to reach my destination. About a mile past the welcome sign I start taking notice of my surroundings. It’s important to familiarize myself with where I’ll be staying just in case I need to flee again. He may come for me and I need to know where I’ll be safe.
Large houses start appearing. The only reason I can see them is because their porch lights illuminate the front stoops. Many of the houses are at least a couple hundred feet from the road and sit on large amounts of land.
Further down the road bright orange street lights dot both sides of the road. Smaller houses start popping up on either side of the road, along with businesses thrown in here and there. There’s a post office on one side and an outdoor shop on the other.
There’s also the Jaded Hollow Public Library, a red brick building with a large, colorful brick book that sits right out front. There is a gazebo that’s off to the left and a small swing set and slide right beside it. I can picture a mother sitting in the gazebo reading her book as a little girl swings close by. With the image in my head, my stomach cramps and my eyes sting. I immediately push the image away before it has the chance to cripple me.
As I slow down to a stop at what appears to be the only red light in town, I notice a building that houses three motorcycles and five cars. The building sits on the corner of County Road 14 and Big Bulge Road. There are several lit advertisement signs on the windows and front of the white building, most of which are advertising different types of beer. The largest lit sign reads
‘Jaxon's Pub’
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The light turns green and I creep along. Up ahead on the left a simple red sign shows that I have finally arrived at Maggie's Diner. There are several cars parked in front of the light blue building.
I park my car next to an old red pick-up truck, pull the key out of the ignition and lay my head back on the headrest. Not only is my car running on empty, but I am as well. With a deep breath I force myself to grab my purse and drop my keys inside. The air is nippy when I step out of my car so I grab my gray hooded sweatshirt that shows the Cookie Monster chomping on cookies, and slip it on.
As I approach the entrance a man appears out of nowhere and startles me. I automatically allow my russet brown hair to fall in front of my face on the right side. This is born out of habit from trying to hide the hideous scar that runs from the corner of my right eye to my ear. People tend to stare, which makes encounters uncomfortable. So, to avoid any tense moments I learned real quick to hide behind a wall of hair anytime I am in the vicinity of people.
I peek at him from under my eyelashes. He looks to be in his early 30's. He wears a black hat that he turned backwards. His hair is dark and I can tell that he keeps his hair short by the stubble that peaks out from just below the hat by his ears. I can’t really see from the lack of light, but it appears he has dark eyes. Although he sports a five o'clock shadow you can see that he keeps his face clean-shaven. He has on a dark gray t-shirt with a black thermal shirt underneath that covers bulging muscles. He also has on a pair of worn form-fitting blue jeans and a pair of tan work boots. Overall, he is a very good looking man. At another time and place I would really appreciate his looks. But not now, I never want anything to do with a man again.
When I glance at him, he smiles and says, “Hey, sorry if I startled you.” His voice is rough, but still holds a smooth edge to it.
I duck my head a little and reply. “That's okay, I'm just a little jumpy.”
He grabs the handle to the door, opens it, and gestures for me to enter. “Ladies first.”
I notice the hand that holds the handle has a black and blue web tattoo. It starts at the center of the back of his hand and extends all the way to his fingers. I can’t see his palm, but I’m pretty sure that the tattoo continues to wrap around to the front of his hand. The webbing also wraps around each of his fingers. I briefly wonder what the significance is but then shake my head. It’s none of my business.
When I walk inside the diner I notice that it looks like a traditional diner that you see in movies and TV shows. It has a long white counter that has attached red vinyl stools right in front of it. Behind the counter is all the kitchen equipment a business needs to serve food and drinks; industrial stove and oven, microwave, racks of dishes, silverware, and all the food prep. There are two waitresses wearing red aprons standing behind the counter. One has to be in her mid 20's while the other in her late 50's to early 60's. She has a very grandmotherly look to her. A middle aged man and woman are sitting at the counter.
Along the front and side walls there are white tables with red vinyl booths. Salt and pepper shakers, a napkin holder, and two menus sit on each table. Several of the booths are occupied by a variety of people. One holds a young teenage couple, another a couple of older men, and the third a lone female drinking a cup of coffee.
The walls are littered with various pictures of people in their everyday life. One is of a couple of kids on a swing set. Another is a black and white photo of a man and a woman swinging on a hammock wrapped in each other’s arms. There is also an old picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a building that looks like Maggie's Diner a 100 years ago.
The man that startled me walks in and the bell on the door rings when it shuts. He starts walking towards the end of the counter where a portion of it lifts up, allowing people to move back and forth from behind the counter. The younger waitress runs from behind the counter and literally jumps on the guy once she reaches him. She wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and plasters an enormous smile on her face. Holding her up with one hand on her ass, he grabs a hand full of hair and slams his mouth down on hers.
I hear some chuckles from some of the patrons. The grandmotherly waitress behind the counter has a twinkle in her eye when she says, “Alright you two, break it up. Anna, you get back to work and you,” she says, pointing to the man, “go have a seat and I'll bring you a nice steaming cup of coffee.”
After another minute of tongue action the couple reluctantly break apart. They stand there staring into each other’s eyes when the man smiles hugely. “Hey, Anna Banana.”
“Hi, Nick,” the waitress replies in a breathy voice, her smile just as big as before. I think the nickname he gave her is corny and sweet at the same time. You can tell these two people are irrevocably in love. For a few seconds it makes me wish that I could find that kind of love, but I know that kind of love is rare and not meant for me.
I move away from the couple and make my way over to one of the booths in the corner. I drop my purse on the seat, sit down, and grab the plastic menu. I’m not real picky on what I eat, as long as it doesn’t taste like sawdust or have a beating heart. I’m pretty desperate for any food at this point.
Most of the foods are the same as any diner you come across. They have a large variety of breakfast dishes, the usual hamburger and fries, several different kinds of melts, and a select few dinner dishes, which included a roll, two veggies, and a salad. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. They offer coffee, sweet tea, coke, diet coke, fresh lemonade, milk, and water.
I close the first menu and pick up the second one. This menu is different than the first. It isn’t plastic and looks like it is just a thick sheet of paper that has pictures of desserts printed on it. To not be laminated and around food and liquids all day the menu is in perfect shape. There are pictures showing Kristen's Supreme Banana Pudding, Jay's Chocolate Crinkles, Barb's Coconut Cream Swirl, Brenda's Chocolate Cake Surprise, and Grandma Rosy's Pecan Pie.