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Authors: Heather Van Fleet

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Resisting Fate (Predetermined)

BOOK: Resisting Fate (Predetermined)
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Sunshine Press
Martinsburg, West Virginia

 

 

 

Resisting Fate
Copyright ©2013, Heather Van Fleet
Edited by Victoria Kennedy

Proofed by: Kimberly Wilkerson Wise & Krista Ames

ISBN: 978-1-939978-08-0

 

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Sunshine Press.

 

www.sunshinepressbooks.com

 

 

 

Resisting Fate

 

 

 

Predetermined Series: Book One

 

 

 

 

 

Heather Van Fleet

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

 

To my husband: Thank you Chris, for being my rock throughout this entire process. You were the one person who showed me continuous support, and never
ever
gave up on me. Thank you for not yelling at me when dinner wasn’t cooked, or when the house was a mess. And thank you for not getting mad at me whenever I’d stay too late at Starbucks on a Friday or Saturday night to write. Thank you for listening to me cry, and hugging my tears away. And most importantly, thank you for kicking me in the butt when I felt like giving up. If it weren’t for you, then this book would never have been possible. You are my best friend, and I love you with every ounce of my being.

To my little ladies: You three are the reason why I wrote this book. You all inspired me in ways you might never even understand. Thank you for being patient with mommy, and thank you for giving me hugs and smooches when I needed them the most. I love you all so, so much, and I truly hope that you all believe in following your dreams like I have someday.

And finally, to my mom and dad: Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving me and supporting me, and being patient with my little quirks and bad habits. Thank you for listening to me when I needed ears, and thank you for being there for me when things didn’t always go as planned. I couldn’t have asked for two better parents, and I love you both so very much.

 

Seventeen-year-old Emmy O’Connell is the epitome of a hot mess.

Her boyfriend’s been shipped out of town to some boarding school four states away. Her step-douche is constantly drunk and badgering her. And then there’s her good-ole-mom… The lady is nothing more than a miserable shell of a woman. She’s turned off all of her feelings
and
her ability to be a good mother as well, leaving poor Emmy and her four year old brother Jamie to suffer. Life couldn’t get much worse, right?

Enter the elusive, cocky, and oh-so-broody Jack Hartman…

The jerk cousin of her boyfriend becomes Emmy’s worst nightmare…times ten. He’s cruel. He’s insensitive. But he also has this strange little ability over her – he makes her weak in the knees with the single touch. No matter how miserable or amazing Jack makes her feel, Emmy can’t seem to deny him, especially when he takes on the role of her protector –her pseudo-knight in a black leather coat.

A knight who also happens to ride in on his black Harley, instead of a white horse…

And to make a bad situation worse…

Werewolves and teens shouldn’t mix! But what can Emmy do when she finds herself thrown head first into the center of it all. Can she handle the supernatural mess her life rapidly becomes or will she fight against the inevitable fate her heart desires?

 

Chapter One

He was coming for me again.

Crap!

Like always, the fear building inside my chest threatened to paralyze me, making me feel as though I had no other choice but to submit to the panic. I was determined to fight it, to take the situation into my own hands.

I’d had enough.

I explored the hall for the blank face that was inevitably about to appear. And as if on cue, the faceless, tall man who always made due on his threats was before me.

“It’s time, Emerly.”

I narrowed eyes at his shadow, and whipped my book bag out in front of me. Maybe I could use it as a weapon of sorts, a weapon I knew damn well wouldn’t do me any good against this guy.

“No,” I growled, “You don’t get it do you? I’m not the person you need! You’ve got it wrong. You always have it wrong!”

A throaty chuckle escaped from his mouth as he reached into his pocket. Dammit…he was early this time.

“Stay away from me with that needle, dude. You could totally be using that thing to feed your crack habit. They have classes for stuff like that, ya know, trust me! My step-douche is an A-plus student.”

“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

He shook his head, flicking one of his free fingers out to the side. I stiffened, and like always, everything around us froze into place. The clock on the wall, the kids walking the hall, the flickering lights… Everything!

No! Not yet, I couldn’t let it take me. I had to get away!

“I wouldn’t run if I were you. Nobody will know. Nobody will care either… Especially not your–”

I didn’t let him finish. I was getting too damn tired of our constant game of cat and mouse! It was time to end this while I still had the breath in my lungs.

Racing towards the exit, his quick footsteps fell in behind me. Dread crept through my veins, because he obviously didn’t feel the need to run after me.

That’s how I knew I was in trouble again.

“Tsk, tsk little girl…you’ve really done it this time.”

The sting of the sharp needle hit my throat just as I gripped the locked exit.

Ah, hell…I didn’t make it.

“Thought maybe you’d shake it up today, huh?” He snickered. My vision began to blur. My knees trembled, and I fell to the cold tile as his final words of hatred poured from his mouth. “Too bad you deserve this more than anyone.”

My lids grew heavy, and closed seconds later. My world went black. Once again, I had fallen into the oblivion of nothingness.

“Oh, Em-my? Are you going to wake up sometime this afternoon, or should I call the sandman, maybe let him steal you away for the night?” I jerked my head up from resting on my arm, smacking the metal shelf above me with a thump.

C
rap that hurt.

I
rubbed the mark, feeling all too guilty. Mrs. Martin, my boss, stood over me. I bit my lip and shrugged. What could I say? I had no real excuses this time…

My five minutes of relaxation on the job apparently had turned into a full-on power nap, leading to yet another cryptic nightmare that I couldn’t explain, or even begin to understand. Lucky for me though, Mrs. Martin so happened to be my ex-boyfriend’s mother, and loved me like her own kid. She might have given me a break due to that little fact, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath, especially since this was the third time within a week that I’d let this happen.

I’d been busy restocking the shelves at Martin’s Rock Climbing Supplies and Adventures since I arrived at nine. It was meticulous and boring, but it was a job and it paid money, and I
really
needed money.

“Yeah, I’m awake. I’m sorry, Mrs. Martin. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I lifted my hand, trying to straighten my unruly red locks, while using the other one to wipe the drool from my cheek. From the sad smile on her face, I’d say that I wasted the effort.

“Is it your stepfather Emmy? Please tell me he hasn’t started drinking again…?”

I pursed my lips, shrugging my shoulders as I stared up at Mrs. Martin with what I hoped was an innocent face. I threw in the whole yawn and stretch thing too, praying to the big guy upstairs that she wouldn’t read the guilt underneath my facade. Of course, she only frowned harder at me.

Damn. Caught.

She leaned against the shelves, crossings her arms as she let out an irritated sigh. She studied me, tapping her fingers along her arms. Crap…the woman didn’t believe me. I couldn’t exactly blame her, seeing as though she was spot on with her assumptions and all. Still, I didn’t want her to know the entire truth, especially since I’d been in a sort of denial myself.

The last thing I wanted to do was try to explain to this perfect mother and housewife, that the only man who’d ever been what society called a
male father figure
in my life, was hitting the bottle again. Nor did I want to tell her that he didn’t get home until four o’clock that morning. Then there was that teeny, tiny detail where he kind of beat my mother’s face into a bloody pulp again.

Nope, definitely not the story I wanted to share with her today…or ever, actually.

That wasn’t the only reason for the black circles under my eyes. But telling the mother of your ex, that her son’s absence, and some cryptic nightmares were the
real
sources of your problem, probably wasn’t an appropriate subject to bring up.

“Um no, he’s not drinking again. I uh…had a headache all night, that’s all.”

Worst liar ever, Emmy Grace…

“Huh…” Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as she studied me some more. I tried not to cringe and waited for the inevitable
you’re lying
to slip from her lips. Surprisingly, and thankfully, it didn’t come.

For some unknown reason, she still wouldn’t drop the step-douche thing completely, only the part about the step-douche’s drinking problems. The man I hated more than anyone in the world may have been an open season topic for this lady, but for me it was an annoyance that I’d never been able to avoid.

“Anyway, did your stepfather ever call that roofing company my cousin works for over in Jones County? I know they’re hiring for the fall season, so at least he’d have some sort of income coming in.”

I shook my head no, and looked away. I didn’t want to tell her another outright lie. My conscience was already eating away at me as it was.

Really though, wouldn’t she have
loved
 to know that the moment I gave that number to the douche bag, he pitched it in the garbage can nearby, saying something to the effect of, “If I wanted a damn job, I’d find it my Goddamn self.”

“Is it his back again sweetie? Is that why he’s been refusing to find work?”

I sighed, frustrated with lying like it’s nobody’s business and irritated with her because she wouldn’t let the subject drop. Besides, the step-douche’s back hadn’t been hurting him for over a year. He liked to use that excuse so he didn’t have to work.

“Yeah it’s his back.” Keeping the responses short dodged outright lies. It was too easy to keep my voice even, while the lies continued to roll off of my tongue.

I turned away from her to go back to work, noting right away how shaky my fingers had become. I clenched them tight against my sides, praying she wouldn’t notice.

That dream…
Damn the thing.

I shook my head. Why in the heck do I let those things get to me? I mean, yeah, sure, the last one was worse than all the others, more realistic even, but still, it was only a dream, nothing more.

No more thinking about dreams. No more talking about my step-douche’s blatant lack of motivation too. And no more chatting about his constant alcoholic state either. Or the fact that he was on two different types of antidepressants for his depression, and a drug or two here and there for his supposed back issues. What can I say? I’ve never been a share-my-personal-drama-stuff kind of person. Some secrets, in my opinion, are better left unsaid.

She cleared her throat; it was a blatant attempt to gain my attention I’m sure. I didn’t look back at her, even though I could almost feel the burn of her eyes against my back. It was unnerving, to say the least. Nobody, especially someone as secretive as I was, appreciated being dissected. I knew she was probably trying to be compassionate with me, but I always wondered if the lady was also secretly judging me for the mistakes made by my family. Hell, maybe she was happy that her son left me! Who knows? It didn’t matter, she could think whatever, I was me, and I wasn’t going to change.

Was she contemplating telling me something else? I sat up a little straighter, biting my bottom lip as I eagerly awaited her words. Secretly, I was hoping it had something to do with Zachary. But like always, I was left with nothing more than disappointment as she moved around me. My shoulders sagged. Damn. I needed to stop getting my hopes up. Zachary was gone. And I was good with that. Well, that’s what I kept telling myself…

Mrs. Martin didn’t like to discuss Zachary much. If anything, she tended to avoid the subject of her son altogether. It had only been four months since he left for boarding school, but those four months left me in a miserable state of both heartbreak, and confusion. Why his parents up and shipped him away was beyond me…

“Oh, and Emmy?”

I held my breath, my gaze trained on her face as she looked over her shoulder at me. Yes, she
was
holding out on me.

Her eyes beamed with affection, her voice softened like a gust of wind. “If you’d like to get off early today then you are more than welcome. Mr. Martin is actually driving back from Denver as we speak, so he could run you home if need be.”

I blew out a disappointed breath, “Denver? What’s he doing in Denver?”

“Oh, umm…I didn’t tell you?” Glancing down at her flexing hands, Mrs. Martin didn’t seem to want to make eye contact with me.

Uh-oh…what is she not telling me?

“Jack’s following him home today. He agreed to work here part time this fall and winter to help out since Z…” She paused and cleared her throat. “… well he’s going to be helping out with the store, that’s all.”

I blinked, my green eyes practically popped out of my head at the mention of my ex’s cousin’s name. The last I had heard, Jack Hartman was away at some reform school where he was supposedly getting help with behavior and anger management issues

Jack Hartman was that A-typical bad boy who drove a Harley, didn’t have friends, and beat up anybody that got in his way, family members, specifically cousins, included in that list. I shivered. Goose bumps danced up and down my arms. That guy scared the absolute crap out of me.

I gaped at her with wide eyes and I nodded. I needed more deets about this little development that came spilling from her mouth. The sound of the front door’s jingling bell interrupted my line of questioning, and she used that moment to slip away.

“What the hell?” I whispered to myself, watching her brown hair flow accordingly behind her. I groaned, finally standing, but only to lean my head back against the metal shelf. My unruly hair covered my right eye in an always annoying fashion, and I swatted at the frizz to clear my vision.

Okay, so I was beyond disturbed as to why Zachary’s parents were letting Jack come home to stay with them, especially after everything that had happened in the past. Zachary and Jack were best friends at one time, but it all changed when Jack went all-out psycho on Zachary over some girl that he supposedly wanted, but Zachary got instead. Well, at least that’s what the rumors said.

BOOK: Resisting Fate (Predetermined)
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