Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1) (54 page)

BOOK: Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1)
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I
do a double take—that sounds so calculating. Words Colin said to me when I
first joined him on the campaign trail come back to me:
I leave very little
to fate, Charlie
.

Ella
interrupts my thoughts. “Yes, but then you started fucking her, and you’re
losing sight of what matters here. She's not part of the equation. While you’re
with
her,”
she says, with venom dripping from her fangs, “your opponents
are campaigning harder. They’ll gain support.” She pauses for a moment before
continuing. “Don’t you see what you’re doing here, Colin? You’re trying to
recreate Abby; she looks just like her. You can’t get back what you thought you
had. Abby’s gone.”

Oh
my God. I was right; he wants me to be Abby.

“Get
out,” he says chillingly, with finality.

“I
won’t leave. I’m going to save you from her and from yourself. I have always
supported you, Colin, and for the life of me I can’t figure out why at this
moment you want to be with her. She killed her baby, for God’s sake, what the
fuck is wrong with you? She’s a murderer.”

The
room swirls around me, lights blinking in front of my eyes. He told her. How
could he betray me this way? I grab my stomach, bowled over from the pain,
rocking myself silently in the chair.

Colin’s
voice is low; mean even. “That’s enough, Ella. You don’t know anything about
her. Don’t you ever broach that topic again or I swear to you, I will end our
relationship all together. You will no longer be a part of my life in any way.
Do you understand?”

She
pauses for a moment. “No Colin, I don’t,” she says, her voice conciliatory.
“You told me when this started she was just a distraction, something to keep
you relaxed—
a good fuck
is an exact quote. You assured me she didn’t mean
anything to you, that you could walk away anytime. Now is the time. You’ve had
your distraction; you’ve had your fun. Let’s just hope you haven’t caught a STD
from the whore.” Ella finishes with low distain etched in her voice.

The
blood has completely drained from my face. A distraction? A good fuck? Walk
away at any time? My head spins, ears ringing, and the room is going in and out
of focus. I vaguely connect that Colin is talking now, loudly, but his voice is
drowned out by the ringing in my ears.

I
have to get out of here. Standing to look for an escape, I immediately confirm
I’m trapped in the bedroom. I'll have to walk directly into the lion’s den to
flee. Oh, I’m such a fool.

Tears
threaten in my already blurred vision. The voices suddenly stop, silence
piercing and unnatural to my ringing ears. Suddenly, light brightens the room,
my eyes closing involuntarily at the unexpected change. When I open them, Colin
is filling the doorway, his eyes unmoving as he stares at me, mouth open in
shock.  

“Charlie,”
he says, a tremor sounding in his voice. Surely my arrival is very unexpected.

Surprise,
you fucking bastard!
I want to shout, but I’ll try to leave with some
dignity. Looking into his eyes for what seems like an eternity, I see there’s
shame within the depths, shock, and something else. Fear?

“Charlie,”
he says again, “I wasn’t expecting you today.” He moves into the room to greet
me.

Quickly
I lift my hands in front of me, blocking his approach. “Don’t” is the only
thing I say, but it holds so much vehemence he stops immediately. I’m
infuriated. So much so, I’m afraid the tears will come, not from a broken
heart—those will come later—but because I’m so incredibly mad, at him, at Ms.
Bitchy and at myself.

Ella
takes that moment to rear her ugly head, poking it through the door. “If you’ll
excuse me,” she says, the words dripping with joy. “Colin, do let me know if
you need anything.”

His
back is to her; Ella’s look is meant solely for me, and it is one of pure
hatred, her lip curled on one side in a snarl, eyes sharp with animosity. Her
mouth turns into an evil smile and casually she strolls away, using the door I
so wish I had never entered and want to use now. This is the end. The end to
what I had hoped was the beginning of my love story. It’s not to be so, another
tragic chapter in the life of Charlie Carter. An involuntary tremor shakes my
body; wrapping my arms around myself, I try to quell the quake.

Without
saying anything to Colin, I skirt around him, keeping a large perimeter,
backing out of the door. He’s watching me like I’m a caged animal; his eyes
remain wide and wary, but they never leave mine. Seeking escape, once I’m in
the living room I turn quickly to go, noticing my carry-on by the couch. That
was his clue I was here; my black carry-on with the magenta bow tied to the
handle.

“Charlie,”
he says again, pleading. “Don’t go; let me explain. Please.” His voice is low,
heartbreakingly low. I turn in response to his plea, not to offer solace, but
to let him see me, the pain a stroke drawn perfectly in my lifeline. Freely
letting the floodgates open, I peruse the file I found on his computer in my
mind, I think about the fact that I look like his dead wife, his betrayal, and
his careless thoughts about me. I let him see the agony, my face contorted with
pain. I want him to know for just one minute how his duplicity lacerated my
heart.

Colin
flinches, his arm reaching for me as he begins to walk forward again, trying to
offer comfort. “Don’t—touch—me,” I hiss.  “How could you be so cruel?” I
ask with loathing, my voice breaking.

“Charlie,
I don’t know what you heard—”

“I
heard everything!”

“No,
you didn’t Charlie. You couldn’t have heard everything you need to know. I
haven’t spoken to Ella about how I feel about you. That’s private, and none of
her business. Please, let’s sit down and talk. I'll explain everything to you.
Please,” he pleads again. Here he is, Mr. President, turning on the charm, the
believability
factor
.  I’m sure it’s so I don’t write a scathing article about his
true character. I was right. All politicians are the same, lying sacks of shit.

I
will have nothing to do with his plea. I want nothing to do with him.
Surprising myself with the evenness of my voice, I say, “Don’t worry. I won’t
put any of this to pen and paper. I went into this with an open mind, with
wonder and hope that you truly held the moral compass to effect positive change
in this country. I thought you did. I won’t ruin the hope of the American
people who believe in you as I once did.”

Colin’s
face mimics an ounce of the pain I feel. I stare at him one last time, his
beauty unparalleled. I hope I never see him again.

Before
I can leave his hands grab me around my upper arms, shaking me gently, the
intensity of our connection jolting through my body. “Look at me, Charlie.”

When
I won’t do it he shakes me a little harder. “Look at me,
please
.”
Reluctantly, my eyes find his. Pain and fear radiate from them; he is
desperate.

“Please.
Don’t—leave—me.” Each word is staccato, emphasized so I hear it clearly, so I
hear his pain. “We need to talk, and I can explain everything. I . . .”

With
strength I didn’t know was within me I break away from his hands, cutting him
off before he can say anymore. “And listen to more of your lies?” Colin’s
breath is heaving in his chest.  “I saw it all, everything in your
sickening, pathetic file of my life!”

Panic
grips him, his eyes wild and frantic. Shaking his head now, he says, “No, you
don’t understand. Charlie . . .”

“Don’t
fucking say my name, you bastard,” I scream. How many times has he said it,
said my name passionately, or whispered it in my ear as we made love? It was
never that to him. He used me. I’m the lookalike wife, a mirror into his past
he can’t move beyond. I groan in pain and work to slow my breathing a fraction.

“How
could you do this to me? How could you hurt me so badly?” A tear escapes my eye
before I can stop it. Pushing it away violently, I ensure he knows how deeply
I’m scarred. It’s the worst insult possible, but it’s the truth. “I didn’t
believe it was possible to feel pain beyond what Shane Roberts did to me, but I
was wrong, so very wrong.” My voice wavers as the tears threaten to come again.
Colin’s face falls in agony.

There
is one last thing to do. Glancing down at the weight on my wrist, I slip the
bracelet free, my heart wrenching as I do. I've thought of it as a symbol of
his feelings for me, much like his mother described it as. I’ve been wrong on
so many counts relating to Colin. His feelings belong to another, someone he
promised to remember
always

“This
belongs to someone else.” Holding it out, I wait for minutes. His frame is
devoid of all motion so I set it on the side table, next to the couch.

“It’s
my heart, Charlie. The only way I know how to give it.” He appears broken.

What?
I can’t think. My heart is desecrated and thoughts obliterated. I need to
leave. With one last look at his ravaged face I grab my bag, turning to pull
the door open.

“Charlie,
don’t do this. I need you to breathe, to live.” The horror fades behind me with
the closing door, and my only thought is
I’ve lost my heart
.

The
peace and utter completion I’ve always felt with Colin are gone, displaced. I’m
bereft of all feeling. I’m a shadow, an empty vessel moving dispassionately and
all alone.

I
call for the elevator over and over and when it doesn’t come immediately I
throw myself down the stairs, running as fast as I can down flight after
flight. I don’t know what I’m going to do; I’m in a strange city and I don’t
know anyone. I have no idea where I am, or what other hotels are around. Can I
catch a flight? My cell is dead and I can’t call anyone.  

I
walk quickly through the door and into an unknown tomorrow.

°

Midnight
is the first book
in the
McKenna Chronicles
. Charlie and Colin's story will continue with
the release of book two in 2015.

 

Thank you for taking time to read
Midnight
!  If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends about it or leaving a
short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and is much appreciated.

~
EM

 

AUTHOR ELIZABETH MILLER
resides
in
Rochester
,
MI
with her very sarcastic husband and two young boys.
In 2013 she decided to flex her writing muscles and began her debut novel:
Midnight
.
Published in 2014, she continues writing the McKenna Chronicles with the second
installment due for release in early 2015.
Elizabeth
loves to chat with readers.

Contact
Elizabeth
-
[email protected]

 

**Follow
Elizabeth
on
Facebook at:
https://www.facebook.com/midnightelizabethmiller?ref=hl

 

**Follow Elizabeth on Twitter at:

https://twitter.com/EMillerMidnight

 

Acknowledgements

 

I
would like to express the deepest appreciation to my parents: their unwavering
love and encouragement is the foundation for the creation of this dream. To Bryan,
Jackson and Sean who sacrificed their wife and mother to allow me time to live
my dream and see it to fruition—thank you. It means more to me than you will
ever know. Emily and Howard, my first editors—thank you, with all of my heart,
for your support and confidence in me. Lauren McKellar, my real editor. I will
be forever grateful for your support, direction and encouragement. When things
were dark in my world, you helped me find my way to make
Midnight
my dream come true. No words can express my gratitude. To those who have taken the
journey with me, falling in love with Colin and Charlie – Thank you, thank you,
thank you! Your enthusiasm and encouragement keeps me going!!!  Xoxo ~EM

 

 

BOOK: Midnight (McKenna Chronicles Book 1)
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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