Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) (39 page)
Read Something Like Redemption (Something Like Normal #2) Online
Authors: Monica James
Quinn nods, drawing me close so I’m flush against his chest.
“Okay,” he replies.
“You’re crazy,” I whisper, shaking my head, our breaths mingling into one exhalation.
Quinn smirks. “I stick to my word, Red. I would kill for you.”
And I know he means every word.
Chapter 33
Ask me Tomorrow
I’ve never felt so many raw emotions as I do now.
You’d think crossing the border would make me feel free. But it doesn’t. In a way, I’m caged in another manner. I’m trapped in my past, and now that past is about to become my present.
“Are you okay?” Quinn asks as we drive our stolen pickup into Alberta. Somehow something worked in our favor and we were able to sneak across the border undetected. We’ve been driving for miles—sorry, kilometers—to get here. Right now I’m not sure how I feel.
“Ask me tomorrow,” I reply honestly, my eyes focused on the minivan in front of us as I blindly pat Lucky.
Quinn looks over and nods, and thankfully, he doesn’t push.
As we wait for the light to turn green, my eyes never waver from the bumper sticker in front of me.
It reads:
“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”-William Shakespeare.
I’ve never heard this quote before, but now it sings to me like a tune especially orchestrated for me. My quest for redemption has taken on so many different meanings, but now I realize that after all this is over with, I need redemption for myself. I want to redeem myself from all the awful things I have done in the past, and I’m the only one who can deliver that salvation. It isn’t in the stars to find that new beginning, but within me. And that redemption starts now.
My heart begins beating frantically as we pull into the street I’ve memorized by heart.
“I once heard this story,” Quinn says randomly, as I twist my hands in my lap.
I look at him, waiting.
“About a little boy, who just wanted to belong,” he continues as he chews on his lip ring.
“His whole life, he just wanted to be part of something humble, something good. And he couldn’t understand why his life wasn’t like everybody else’s. But the older he got, he realized that life isn’t anyone else’s to own, but his alone. Life is what you make it. Family is what you make it,” he concludes, his eyes never leaving the road.
I know the little boy is Quinn, and I listen intently, as this is the first bit of insight he has given me. Vague or not, I give him my full attention.
“What happened to the little boy?” I ask, realizing we’ve stopped in front of the place I’ve been dreading.
Quinn turns to me as he shuts off the engine. “He grew up and realized that it’s okay to make mistakes, because you’ve always got tomorrow to try and make amends.”
I swipe the tears from my eyes as I crawl over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Thank you.”
Whatever Quinn’s story, we will deal with it together, just like we always do. We’re both scarred souls drawn together by tragedy, but we’re trying damn hard to break the binds of our past.
“You ready?” Quinn asks, as we both stare at the mansion in front of us.
“Ask me tomorrow,” I reply again.
Quinn kisses my temple and I take that as my cue.
“Will you come with me?”
“Try and keep me away,” he replies.
As I set my feet on Canadian soil, I feel like I’ve just taken a step in quicksand. And if it weren’t for Quinn’s warm hand in mine, leading me toward my future, I’d crumble to the ground.
This is another crossroad in my life, which will shape me into who I become. This moment will either make or break the connection I’m so afraid to make.
As we walk up the stairs of the extravagant home, I feel underdressed and unprepared for what I’m about to face. I try to smooth out my sleep-ruffled locks, but my fingers snag and I give up. Quinn presses the doorbell for me, as my shaky fingers are fiddling with my frayed sweater.
As the sound resonates inside, I jerk and turn on my heel. “I can’t do this,” I cry, descending the first step faster than the wind.
But the door opening stops my retreat and I turn slowly, seeing a sight I was so not expecting to see.
A girl with eyes just like mine looks at me with an arched, sculptured brow. “Can I help you?” asks the bored teenager, looking at me with obvious distaste, but as her eyes fall to Quinn, they pipe up in interest.
“Hi, handsome,” she purrs, leaning against the doorjamb.
I would rip out her eyes if I could speak, but I can’t. Nor can I move.
The teenager licks her glossy lips as she concludes undressing Quinn. She then narrows her eyes at me, waiting for me to speak.
However, when I remain mute, gaping at her familiar appearance, she barks, “Look, go bother someone else.” She flicks her long, black hair over her slender shoulder. “Whatever you’re selling, we’re
definitely
not interested,” she scoffs, and is about to slam the door shut when my legs finally move and I launch up the stairs, placing my boot in the doorway.
“Gee, rude much?” she taunts, and this close to her, I can see why Quinn is staring, mouth agape.
“Is… is Cynthia Lee home?” I finally get out without choking on my tongue.
She tilts her head to the side in interest. “How do you know her?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I just—is she home?” I look at this stranger, who can’t be who I think she is.
“Fine. Whatever…Mom!” the teenager screams over her shoulder.
Mom?
Oh my God. Is she? But surely she can’t be. As I look at my expression mirrored on the face of this teenager, I know it’s true.
“Who’s at the door, darling?” I hear a sweet voice ask before the door opens wide, and a middle-aged woman with black hair and icy blue eyes comes into view.
In this moment, everything is heightened. The harsh sound of my breathing, the frantic beating of my heart, but most of all, my brain stuck on repeat, screaming, This can’t be her! This can’t be her!
“Mia?” she chokes, her trembling hand covering her gaping mouth.
I know with every fiber of my body that this is the woman who abandoned me—who left me alone with a monster. This is the woman who ruined my life.
“Hi… Mom.”
Acknowledgements
Limitless Publishing—You guys are truly amazing. Thank you for believing in me.
My brilliant editor, Toni Rakestraw—Thank you for ‘getting’ me and for making me laugh with your bubble comments. Editing has never been so fun!
Daniel, Thank you for being my muse. I love you.
My amazing family—Mum, Dad, Daniel, Fran, Matt, Samantha, Amelia, Gayle, Peter, Luke, Leah, Shirley, Buckwheat, Dacca, Mitch and Jag- Thank you for your unconditional love and support.
Louise—You’ve been with me from the very beginning and without you and your support, I would be a mess. My fellow cat lover furever!
Gemma—I am so, so proud of you. Thank you for staying. P.L.L for life!
Jaz- Thank you for showering me with Efron and Leto pics. These get me through the day!
Ben and Logan, thanks for the booze! Ps. Ben, you’re the best laptop resuscitator.
Ariana McWilliams—Without you, I would be a mess. Thanks for everything! Nothing is ever too much for you, and I appreciate your help so very much. Thank you for not laughing at my technology phobia. I’ll learn how to make a Google Document thingie...one day.
My fellow authors and friends: Lisa Edward, Beth Michele, Kathy-Jo Reinhart, Ilsa Madden-Mills, Kendall Grey, Beverly Preston, Nina Levine, Justine Elvria, Hazel Robinson, Colleen Hoover and Lisa Swallow—Thank you for all the support and laughs. I love you ladies to bits!
To all the bloggers who helped get Something like Normal and the I Surrender Trilogy off the ground, I thank you. A big cuddle to Ellie from Love N. Books for bringing me to Vegas!
My readers—Your support means the world to me. Thank you for believing in me and my characters.
I suck at these, so if I’ve left anyone out, I’m sorry!!
Oh, and I want to thank: coffee, lip rings, tattoos, Chihuahuas, Lucy Hale, chucks, New York, glitter, lip gloss, pizza, Disney Princesses, Zac Efron, grilled cheese sandwiches, Phoebe, mermaid screams, cats on YouTube, and my purple pen- You kept me sane... well, semi sane.
About the Author
Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne Rice, William Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson.
When she is not writing, Monica is busy running her own business, but she always finds a balance between the two.
She enjoys writing honest, heartfelt and turbulent stories,
hoping to leave an imprint on her readers, and her inspiration comes from everyday life. She is an Amazon bestselling author in the US, UK, Australia and Canada.
Monica James resides in Melbourne, Australia with her wonderful family, and menagerie of animals. She is slightly obsessed with cats, chucks, and lip-gloss, and secretly wishes she was a ninja on the weekends.
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/authormonicajames
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/monicajames81
Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/author/show/6937440.Monica_James
Blog:
http://monicajames81.blogspot.com.au/
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