Thorneless (Rose of Thorne Series) (24 page)

BOOK: Thorneless (Rose of Thorne Series)
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Haven’t read Book One,
Rose of Thorne
yet?  Here is a sneak preview!!

 

 

Sebastian

People always have that one day, that one specific moment that they wish they could change or just erase. For me, that day is September 8, 2005. Some mistakes are impossible to make right and the words, ‘I’m sorry,’ can’t begin to express your deepest remorse. Shame and regret for leaving her that night still fill my days. Hell, for getting behind that damn wheel knowing that I’d had too much to drink. Since then, I keep my days busy with work and numb my pain at night with countless women. No matter what I do, the nightmare that I know as reality is right there waiting when I close my eyes at night.

Every night, it’s the same dreaded dream. Bright lights flash before my eyes, and the sounds of screeching tires and glass shattering roars in my ears. Then, there is the deafening silence. The smell of burning rubber on pavement mixed with tequila on my clothes fills the air. Twisted bodies hang from the mangled remains of what once was a family’s car. I can see her beautiful, angelic face and the bright red blood that runs down her flawless cheek. And then, her breathtaking turquoise eyes open briefly, and I can see the reflection of my own dark soul.

I jolt awake from my nightmare, and desperately try to catch my breath. My body is soaked in sweat, and my charcoal colored sheets now cling to my damp skin. Seven long years have passed since that awful night, yet it haunts me as if it were yesterday. I wish I could say that the dream is just a silly nightmare, but for me, it is reality. I have learned to accept it as my punishment, and live as a tortured soul for what I have done, for what I can never take back. It will forever be a wrong that I can never make right. But today is different, because today, I can take no more. Today is the day that I decide to face the past and to find those turquoise eyes. Now, I am a Thorne in search of his Rose.

Skylar

Sweet sixteen should be one of the best days in a girl’s life. For most teenagers, sweet sixteen is an epic milestone, a milestone that signifies that you will finally be looked at more as an adult and less as a kid.

Sadly, my sweet sixteen was not sweet for very long. In a matter of seconds, a wonderful, magical day turned into a sad day of mourning. Simply said, it was both the best and worst day of my life.

I don’t remember much from the night of the accident, but I cling to every sweet memory of what an incredible day it started out to be. I remember the complete happiness that I felt as my parents surprised me with dinner at my favorite restaurant, La Cado, located an hour away from our Austin, Texas hometown. It has been seven long years since the night of the accident, and yet, I can still feel their warm arms around me and hear their sweet voices singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. I remember their excitement when I opened my silver Tiffany bracelet and the enormous smile on my Daddy’s face when he playfully smeared icing on my nose. Yes, I remember every single, magical moment, but for all the good I remember, there is also the bad.

I can still see the lights of the car as it swerves into our lane. I can still hear my parent’s desperate cries when our cars make impact. I remember reaching out to hold my little sister’s hand as she cried out in agony for our parents. And then, I remember the deafening silence and the darkness that came soon after.

Ruled a hit and run by the Highway Patrol, I still can’t quite understand how someone could drive away from an accident. How can someone go on with his everyday life as if nothing has happened? No one will ever step forward to take the blame for the accident, but I have had to learn to let go of the anger, and just live day to day.

If you ask, I will tell you that a large part of me died that day. My dreams of dancing, of my father walking me down the aisle, they are all gone. My world is forever shattered. Three days after the accident, I buried the two most incredible loves of my life. I would have willingly allowed them to bury me right along with them, but instead I had to bury my grief and be strong for my little sister. So, I do the only thing I can do… survive. I am, after all, a Rose by name. Waiting to bloom, and yet, wilting fast in the sun.

 

 

Skylar

7 years ago….

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY,” my parent’s exclaim as they place a beautiful blue Tiffany & Co. box in front of me. Tears spring to my eyes because only in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would get something from Tiffany’s.

“Open it, silly,” my little sister Sophie chimes in from across the restaurant table. I can’t help but laugh at her giddiness, and I pick up the box to remove the blue velvet bag inside it. I gasp at the silver clasp bracelet that I’m holding in my hands. My parents aren’t wealthy people, and I know this had to have cost them a lot.

“Oh, honey? Don’t you like it?” My mother asks, her face now in a worried frown.

“Of course, I love it! It’s just way too much!” I say, still in complete awe over the beautiful bracelet.

My daddy grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Nonsense, this is my daughter’s sixteenth birthday, and she deserves something special! Besides, did you see the inscription on the inside?” He asks, leaning in closer to me. “See there, we’ve gone and had them scribble something on it, so now, there’s no taking it back.” He nudges my arm as he makes his joke.

I burst out laughing at his words, and his calloused hands gently pat my cheek. He always knows the perfect thing to say to make people feel at ease. It is a quality that I pray I have one day.

My daddy carefully opens the clasp, and the etching inside is the beautiful words that my parents always say to me. ‘
Love is forever. My forever is with you.’

“Thank you so much! I absolutely love it!” I exclaim through my tears.

My daddy grins, and with a kiss on my wrist, he clasps the bracelet and says, “We love you more than you will ever know, my baby girl.”

With tears still running down my face, I stand and throw my arms around my parents’ necks.

“Oh, how I love you all!” I say and smile at my happy family. There is no way that my birthday can get better than this. Unless, of course, an acceptance letter from Baylor Dance Academy is waiting at home for me.

It’s late when we leave the restaurant, and I know we still have to drive an hour back home. My daddy kisses me on the forehead as he opens the car door for my sister and me. I slide in the backseat and smile at her yawning face; even at twelve, she is still totally adorable. My parents are laughing about something on the radio, so I pull out my iPod and ear buds, and begin listening to some music. As we start our journey home, I can’t take my eyes off my new bracelet, and I smile at how the lights of the city sparkle off the silver.

About an hour later, my sister is sleeping soundly beside me, and I notice that we are almost home. As I stare out my window, thinking how bright the stars look, headlights in our path suddenly blind me. I hear my mother scream, and feel our car jerk to one side. My sister is now awake and crying beside me. I grab her small hand, and watch as my daddy’s strong hands grip the steering wheel for dear life. I hear screeching noises, and then the lights come closer and closer. The last thing I remember is feeling the impact, and the screaming suddenly stops. My head pounds as I struggle to open my heavy eyes. I need to check on everyone, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to open them. I hear heavy footsteps coming towards us, and then everything goes black.

The sounds of sirens awaken me.

“Can you hear me, miss? Miss?” I slowly blink at the older man’s words.

”You are going to be all right, sweetie. We are transporting you and the little girl to the hospital.”

The oxygen mask over my mouth mumbles my voice. The EMT notices and slips it to one side. My head is pounding, and I taste blood in my mouth.

“Where are my parents? Are they coming too?” I manage to ask.

The two workers look at each other with a pained expression on their faces. Neither will answer me, so I try to sit up on the gurney.

Lord, please let them be okay! Why will no one tell me anything?

“Where are they?” I demand. I feel the world begin to spin around me, and I can’t seem to hold myself up.

“Just lay back, sweetie. Okay?” the female EMT urges, and gently presses me back onto the stretcher.

“NO! Tell me where my parents are! PLEASE, TELL ME!” I start screaming at them. But they don’t have to say anything because the looks on their faces tell me everything that I need to know.

“NO! NO! PLEASE NO!” I scream pushing myself up again. Pain and dizziness overwhelm me, but I don’t care. These people are lying to me. I’ve got to get out of this ambulance, and back to my parents and sister.

“We are going to have to strap her down, or she’s going to hurt herself worse,” the male EMT shouts before he begins buckling my arms down.

“Shhhh. I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.” The female EMT standing over me gently consoles me.

The man rubs something cold on my skin before sticking a needle into my arm. The medication works its way into my body, and then the world slows down and fades away. I embrace the darkness because this can’t be real.

Yes, that’s it. I’ll wake up, and it will all just be a terrible dream.

I wake to find my best friend Kylie Reynolds, and her father Steve sitting in my hospital room. The Reynolds family are not only my neighbors, but also my adoptive family. Ever since Kylie and I were little, either she is at my house, or I am at hers. Our parents always joke that we are actually twins. Mr. Steve stands and walks over to me as I continue struggling to rouse myself fully.

“Skylar, sweetheart, can you hear me? It’s me, Mr. Steve. Kylie is here with me too, honey. Please open those beautiful eyes, darling,” he begs and gently squeezes my hand.

My eyes flutter open, landing on Kylie’s horrified, tear-stained face. In all the years that I’ve known her, I don’t ever remember seeing her this upset. And then, it all comes back to me, and I begin panicking.

My parents!

“NO! NO!!! Where are they?” I say screaming at my best friend and her father. Kylie climbs into the bed, and wraps her arms around me while sobbing into my chest.

Mr. Steve sits beside me and puts his strong arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, precious girl, but your momma and daddy are gone, baby. The impact of the accident killed them both instantly. The fact that you and your sister even survived is an absolute miracle. I am so sorry, baby girl,” Mr. Steve speaks to me gently as he rocks me against his strong chest. I cry until I am so weak that he has to lean me back against the bed. Kylie stays in bed with me and keeps her arms around me.

“What about Sophie? Where is she?” I ask her.

“My mom is sitting with her right now. She should be discharged later tonight. She is fine, Sky. Really! She just has bumps and bruises. We haven’t told her anything yet, but she’s been asking all night to see you.”

In a matter of hours, my whole world has gone from being absolutely perfect to complete devastation. I have no idea what I am going to do now. How do you tell your baby sister that you are all she has left?

The Reynolds handle all of my parents’ funeral preparations for us. They also take my sister and me in until my parents’ personal business is finalized. My parents didn’t have a will or anything, so no one is listed as guardians for us. To my knowledge, I only have two living relatives left: Granna, my dad’s elderly mother, and his brother Trevor, who has spent most of his adult life running from the law. Kylie’s parents want us to stay with them, but my Granna insists that we come to live with her. She only lives five miles away, but to me, she’s asking us to move across the world.

Kylie and her mother help me pack up my sister’s room and mine. Never before did the realization of how hard it is to take all the little things off the wall hit me, but with each item I remove, I feel as though I am dying that much more. The movers pack everything that we’re taking with us, and for now, the Reynolds will store the rest.

I stand in my driveway, watching the movers place the last remaining box in their van. The house is nothing but a shell now, much as I am. It once represented so much joy, but now, it feels like nothing but an empty void. I walk slowly through the only home that I have ever known for the final time. I put my hand on every possible surface as if I am taking the memory with me.
Touch.
I put my hand on the kitchen counter where my momma and I tossed flour on each other while making my daddy’s favorite cake. We always made such a huge mess, but we had so much fun.
Touch.
My hand slides across the butterflies that adorn my little sister’s bedroom wall. My daddy and I spent the rainy afternoon painting them to surprise Sophie.
Touch.
My fingers trace the names and dates written on the hallway wall. My parents had religiously measured us to chart our growth over the years. I wish I could cut this out of the wall. I don’t want the marks covered with paint. I don’t want them erased as if we were never here. I snap a picture with my phone so that I can have this with me wherever I am.

I can’t fathom another family making memories here; the sold sign out front is painful enough to look at. With one last look around, I shut the front door. I see Sophie’s heartbroken face as she stares back at me through the car window. While all I want to do is break down and cry, I know I can’t. I have to be strong for that sweet face in the window that’s looking back at me. She needs me now more than ever, and I need her just as much.

I open the door of my dad’s red Honda, and slip behind the driver’s seat. Reaching across the seat, I grab my sister’s hand and gently squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay, Soph. They are with us no matter where we live. Just close your eyes and we’ll be away from here soon, okay?”

She nods and closes her eyes as we follow the moving van down the street. I said I wasn’t going to do it, but I watch the house slowly fade in my rearview mirror. Behind my sunglasses, I blink the tears back and silently bid farewell to my happiness.

 

Sebastian

“Hey, man, Case is throwing a ‘summer’s over’ bash at his parents’ lake house tonight. Are you in?” My best friend, Jackson shouts through the phone.

“Yeah, man, I’m in. I’ll see you there in a bit,” I say before hitting the end button.

I am glad to have another reason for not attending another of my father’s stupid business dinners. I grab my car keys and head downstairs. I am about to turn the corner when my father’s cold voice echoes down the mansion hallway.

I hate him. I hate this house. I hate everything about my life. Ever since my mother died when I was eight, I can’t remember loving much of anything. My father’s new flavor of the week usually frequents the house, and even the housekeeper and other employees don’t stick around long. I can’t blame them though. He is simply too arrogant and cruel to be around for long. He pushes me in academics and never allows failure. He’s gearing me up to work with him at his design firm, and that’s the last fucking thing I want in this miserable life.

Like most teenagers, I drown myself in whatever distraction I can find. For me, it’s always been sports. I love the release it gives me, and it allows me an excuse to stay away from home. While growing up, my father never came to any of my games, and honestly, most of the time, I never told him what I was doing. I just signed the permission slips myself and no one was ever the wiser.

As I’ve gotten older, partying and girls have become another favorite past time of mine. I easily forget about my troubles when I drown myself in the bottom of a bottle, and I do it every chance I get. Too many times, I wake up with some girl wrapped around me, and have no memory of what has gone down. No matter the hangover, I am right back at it the next chance I get.

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