Inhale, Exhale

By

Sarah M. Ross

* * * *

Copyright © 2013 by Sarah M. Ross

Formatting by
JT Formatting

Amazon Edition

All rights reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  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 owners.

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For Aunt Paula

You were my number one fan and my biggest cheerleader.

I miss you

PROLOGUE

“This is your fault, you stupid son-of-a-bitch!”

I twisted out of the arms holding me back and rammed my fist in his face again, seeing nothing but red. I continued to pound the bastard’s face until I was once again pulled off him.

“I swear to God, if you ever so much as even think about stepping in the same zip code as her ever again, I will rip out your spine and feed it to you before breaking every bone in your body.”

The prick lay on the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to take a ragged breath. Red, mucus-streaked blood dripped out of his mouth and down his chin. He spat out a tooth, spraying blood on the ground at my feet. He never bothered to try to stand back up. It was a smart decision on his part, because I’d just knock him back down.

“Dude, enough!” JT tightened his grip on my arms as blood dripped from my knuckles.

The fucker’s eyes held genuine remorse as he glanced around the room at each of us. “I had no idea this would happen. She wasn’t supposed to do that. They weren’t supposed to hurt her. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for everything,” he moaned.

The words and his regret weren’t enough to make up for his actions, but before I could strike again, he whispered, “Please, tell me she’s going to be okay. That she’s not…”

The words broke me. My vision blurred behind the tears that welled in my eyes. Was she going to...? She couldn’t…? How did this happen? How did I let myself fail to protect her? She trusted me, and I let her down. I wanted to blame him, but really I had no one to blame but myself. I failed her.

My shoulders slumped as all my anger turned to fear. Fear for her. Fear of a future without her in it. I needed to see her, needed to make sure she was okay. But that wasn’t possible now. The only thing I could do was wait. Sit and wait for however this turned out.

Because no matter what happened, by the end of tonight my life would never be the same again.

CHAPTER ONE

When I was about six, my dad had begun to call me his little Monkee. People always assumed I was a tomboy who climbed trees, but that wasn’t it at all. No, Daddy called me that because I was always daydreaming. His little “Daydream Believer,” just like the song. I was always in my head more than I was in the world. And today was no exception. But today, I wasn’t daydreaming; I was trying to relive a dream from last night.

With the top of the VW Bug convertible down, the wind rushed through my ears, drowning out the chatter around me as my eyes slid shut. I turned up toward the sun, enjoying the heat on my face as my long, brown hair whipped around me and tangled. It would be impossible to tame it later, but it felt so good to let go of everything, and I didn’t want the feeling to end.

“Hey! Are you even listening?” Ava chastised, playfully shoving my shoulder to get my attention. I hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation of my best friends beside me, but they were used to it by now. “Hello? Earth to Jillian!”

I shook my head, bringing myself out of my thoughts and back into the present. Grabbing a hair tie from around the stick shift, I threw my hair into a messy bun until I could brush it out later. I wanted to leave it free to give the sun a chance to lighten it a few shades like it did every summer, but I’d save that for another day.

“I’m sorry, Ava.”

“Daydreaming again?”

“Sort of. I was thinking about this dream I had last night.” I paused for a moment, mustering the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on my mind since I woke up five hours earlier. It sounded so stupid in my head; I knew it would sound even worse out loud. But these were my best friends, and I needed to talk this out before I went crazy.

“Have you ever woken up from a dream and thought it really happened?”

“Yeah, every time I dream about me and Chris Hemsworth.” Trish sighed, thinking of her favorite fictional boyfriend.

“No, I mean, like the dream was trying to tell you something. Send a message.” I groaned. This was sounding even stupider than I thought, and nothing was coming out right. “What I’m trying to ask is, do you believe dreams can be prophetic?”

Ava turned down the sounds of Bruno Mars blasting through the speakers. “Huh? Like what, you’re some kind of fortune teller now? What exactly was that dream about? Am I going to win the lottery?”

“I don’t remember a lot of the specifics, but I can’t shake this feeling I was with someone else.”

From the backseat, Trish pulled her feet up and sat on them, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on my headrest. “You mean someone other than Christian?”

Ava gasped, and the car swerved a little onto the shoulder before she righted it. She always was the most dramatic one of our trio. Even her looks were striking, with her pitch-black hair cut in a blunt bob that angled down, highlighting her high cheekbones and her signature cherry red, pouty lips. “That’s insane! You and Christian have been together since we were sophomores in high school. He loves you like crazy. And with your four-year anniversary coming up at the end of the summer, I’m pretty sure he’s going to pop the question.”

I frowned.
Huh, that should not be my first reaction to the thought of my boyfriend proposing
. I shook off the errant thought. Of course I was excited. It was just this stupid dream that made me frown.

“I know, I know. And I love him, too. It was a stupid dream. Never mind. Forget I brought it up.”

“Oh no,” Trish clucked. “You’re not getting out of it that easily. This sounds like a juicy dream, so spill it, missy!”

“It was nothing. Really.” I turned to look back out the window but knew neither Trish nor Ava would let it rest at that. I wasn’t a good enough liar to pull it off, and they knew me too well. I sighed.
Might as well get this over with.
“It was…intense. We were holding hands walking down the beach over by the lighthouse, and then he stopped and turned me, staring in my eyes. But the thing was, it wasn’t Christian. It was someone else. And we were connected in a way I’ve never felt before.”

Trish balked in the backseat, placing her hands on her ample hips and rolling her baby blues at me. “Pfft! What, like soul mates? Those only exist in rom-coms and cheesy romance novels.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes to try to picture the face that hung just outside my memory. I wanted to capture the feelings of the dream once more—if only for a second.

“No, not soul mates. You know I don’t believe in those. It was more like we were completely compatible. Like he got me, and we clicked together. Pieces of a puzzle or something.”

“But you and Christian have that, sweetie. You guys are perfect together,” Ava reassured me.

“Yeah, you’re right. We are.” I smiled, trying to convince myself the stupid dream meant nothing. Christian and I were great together, everyone said so. Sure, there were a few things I would change about him if I could—things that worried me about our future—but all couples had that. After all, no one was perfect. “Like I said, it’s stupid. It didn’t mean anything.” I tried to keep my tone light, indifferent even, but I couldn’t shake the hint of longing that snuck in.

“So, was this dream guy at least a hottie?” Trish asked from the backseat, wagging her eyebrows at me.

Heat flushed my face, and I turned away to hide from Trish’s view. “Um, I don’t remember,” I lied. It was a partial lie. I didn’t remember what the guy in my dream looked like, but I remember how my body tightened when our eyes met—that intense heat flared to life within me and brought an almost unquenchable sense of longing as we moved closer together.

I wished I could go back to sleep right now and dream about him again. I tried falling back asleep after waking up with my heart racing, but it was impossible. The dream was just out of my reach when I closed my eyes, even when I tried to remember the quickly fading details.
I feel like Tantalus
, I thought.

“Girl, you can try to hide the blush all you want. We’ve been friends for too long for me not to see through that. Spill. And this time, I want all the juicy details. This must have been one hell of a dream to make you turn the shade of a ripe tomato.”

I continued to attempt to hide the evidence, but Trish would have none of it. She began poking me under the ribs—the spot she knew I was most ticklish. She knew I had no defenses against tickling. I squealed, bending over to try to protect the sensitive area, but she was unrelenting.

“Okay, okay!” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “I give up. Uncle! I’ll tell you, stop tickling me, please.”

Trish relented, resuming her seat in the back of the car and pumping her arms triumphantly.

“I already told you, I don’t remember any of the specific details. I only remember how being with him made me feel. It was like…” I paused, trying to find the right words. “I’d never wanted to be with someone so badly in my entire life.”

“Wow, it sounds intense. So now you think this dream is going to come true?” Ava made the turn into the mall entrance. It was packed, as usual for a Saturday, so we began the hunt for a spot to park.