More Than Lies

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Authors: N. E. Henderson

BOOK: More Than Lies
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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Epilogue

A note from Nancy

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Published by N.E. Henderson

P.O. Box 2214
Madison, MS 39130

 

Copyright © 2015 Nancy Henderson

http://www.nehenderson.com

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used as fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

Disclaimer: This novel contains sexual content.

 

First edition September 2015

 

Editor: Jessica Grover

Interior design by Nancy Henderson

Cover Designed by Cover It! Designs

Cover Photography by 123rf.com & Dollarphotoclub.com

Beth Ates did initial editing from the prologue through chapter seven.

 

ISBN-13: 978-0-9912444-7-8

ISBN-13: 978-0-9912444-6-1 (eBook)

FOR CHARISSE

Thank you for getting me to the end. Love you!

“Shane,” I call out as I run out the door of my bedroom, hauling butt down the stairs to find my brother. He is by far the coolest person I know and I want to be just like him when I grow up. He’s eleven years old, but he tells people all the time that he is six years older than I am, he’s not. I’m five and my birthday falls the month before his does, so he is really only five years older than me.

“Shane,” I shout a little louder as I land on the next to the last step. Steadying myself, I leap to the bottom. “Yesss, I made it,” I squeal when I realize I have finally jumped down without landing on my butt. This calls for another jump off the ground as I throw up my fist high into the air.

Dang, where’s Dad when I need to show off my moves?

Once all my excitement settles down I remember why I ran down into the living room in the first place. My brother!

Eyeing the room, my brown eyes land on the picture sitting on the end table next to the couch. It displays the face of a pretty woman with blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She looks happy in the photo. Mom says, this was her best friend since diapers or something like that. My mom gets sad when she stares at that picture. I don’t know why she keeps it around if it
hurts her heart
as she says it does. I’ve never met the lady. I don’t know why that is, if she and my Mom are such good friends.

I turn my head, looking away from the picture. Shane’s not in here, so I head into the kitchen where I find my Mom is pulling stuff out of our refrigerator. She’s always in the kitchen, or so it seems. At least when she isn’t at work, being a doctor. I’m not complaining though, because she makes the yummiest things in here. And by yummy, I mean, YUMMEE.

“Hey, baby,” she says with a broad smile turning around to speak to me. She’s wearing her pink apron with lots of flower on it over her dress. This has to be a good sign.

“I’m NOT a baby, mom.” I mean, really, I’m five. I’m not a darn baby anymore, but she doesn’t seem to get this even though I tell her daily, a bunch of times a day, in fact. And she claims I have a one-track mind, and can’t remember what I’ve been told from day to day. Pretty sure it’s the other way around, lady. Not that I’m going to tell her that. No freakin’ way! I’d get the back of my head smacked in a heartbeat and that stuff is not fun. Not that it hurts, because it doesn’t, but it’s embarrassing as heck and she always does it in front of my friends or my brother and his friends.

“Sweetheart, you will always be my baby for forever and ever. You know that, right?” Her voice is like an angel and when she’s baking, mom’s usually singing and going on and on about how this is her only time to relax and enjoy peace and quiet. Whatever that means. My mom is a confusing person for sure, but then, so is my grand-maw. I’m so glad I’m a boy.

“Where’s my brother?” I ask, purposely ignoring her question. I will not be a baby forever. I’m a big boy, who does big boy things, just like Shane. I peer up at her and wait. She’s smiling as she closes the fridge and now has a ton of stuff laid out on our countertop. I know she is about to bake something that I’m going to love. The
baby
calling will be forgiven. I so love this lady because she knows the way to my heart. Through chocolate!

“Out back. I think Shane’s—” I stop listening once she’s told me what I want to know. Now I’m opening the sliding glass door that leads to our big back yard. Our back yard rocks. We have a big wooden swing set with two slides and a sandbox underneath. Not to mention a ginormous pool. I’m not allowed near the pool unless mom or dad is outside, plus there’s a gate with a lock and I’m not tall enough to climb over it, yet. Swimming is my favorite thing to do. Too bad summer is not year round. I’d be in that sucker right now if it were. I mean, why do we need winter? Cold weather stinks, it’s freakin’ cold. Well, maybe for that one day a year when Santa visits, but other than that it should be summer all the friggin’ time.

Walking down the steps leading into the yard, I see my brother walking out of the gate toward the front yard so I pick up my pace and follow him.

“Shane, wait for me.” I call out.

He stops, turning to look in my direction as I run toward him. I see another boy walking up behind my brother. I’ve only seen him one other time. Shane told me his name is Trent, and he moved in a few blocks from our house not too long ago.

“Whaaat do you wannnt?” my brother drags out as he crosses his arms across his chest. “I’m busy, Shawn.” He’s been giving me this same speech for a month now and it’s as annoying as the first time I heard it. He’s been busy ever since he met that Trent kid. Now my brother never has time to build Legos or play with me in the backyard. He used to love swinging on the big tire swing with me while Dad swung us or even jumping on our trampoline. Now he’s always gone with the new kid or closed inside his bedroom playing the guitar he got for Christmas. And I don’t like either.

“I want to show you what I drew. It’s so coo—”

“I’ll check it out later. I’m going to hang out with Trent, now.” He turns away from me.

“Hey, so what do you want to do, today?” Shane asks Trent, ignoring me.

I don’t hear Trent’s response to my brother because something small and purple catches my attention. It’s standing behind Shane’s new friend. The purple thing is moving. The deep, dark color reminds me of Donatello from The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Donny is no Raphael, but he’s still a Ninja Turtle, so he’s cool in my book. When the purpley thing slides from behind Trent, I see it’s a girl. She is staring back at me and smiling like she’s shy or something. The thought occurs to me that she is a very pretty girl.

Whoa dude...stop right there. Wrong! Girls are not pretty. They’re girls and that purple I saw was her dress, a gross, yucky dress. Again, thank you Jesus I am a boy.

I walk closer, standing next to my brother, so I can get a better look at this non-pretty girl. She has long wavy blonde hair that comes down to the middle of her back and her eyes are really dark. At first glance I think they’re black, my favorite color, but upon looking a little harder I see that they are the darkest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. Her eyes kind of remind me of the sky when it’s really dark outside. They’re big, round, dark blue globes that are staring back at me.

So NOT pretty.

“She can stay here with Shawn.”

I pause my train of thought about non-pretty girls and glance up to my brother’s face. Who can stay with me? Her? I wonder if she likes to play Legos. Do girls like Legos? Hmmm...I never thought about that before. I don’t have any friends who are girls. Does she want to be my friend? She looks about my age. What do girls do for fun? I draw and do a whole lot of other cool things.

“Naw, dude, Taralynn comes with me. You want me to go down to the creek, she comes too.”

“Taral—” Uhhh, I don’t need this now. Come on, dude, just say it. Taralynn. I can say it in my head, why can’t I say it out loud. “Taral—” It still doesn’t come out right. She’s still smiling at me though, but then goes back to hiding behind her brother shyly. Stupid “L” sounds, I’ll just call her Tara. It’s safer to stick with Tara. No need to look stupid in front of this girl or my brother for that matter.

“Can I come too?” I ask, with a little bit of hope in my voice. If Tara’s going, I should be able to go, too, right? My brother looks down at me, I can already tell before he speaks, he’s going to say no. I used to be his best friend. Now he never wants me around, or so it seems, and I don’t know why.

“Stay here. I won’t be gone long.” And with that he leaves me standing alone in the yard. When Tara doesn’t follow her own brother Trent tugs on her hand to pull her along. I see her smile fall from her face and soon they are all out of my sight.

What makes her so special?

Why does she get to go and I don’t?

She’s even a girl, a stupid girl, in a stupid purple dress.

And my brother ends up being gone all day, not returning until its time for dinner.

Stupid Tara with a stupid name I can’t even say.

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