Caught up, p.1
Caught Up, page 1
Caught Up: Drawn Series Book 2
By, M.A. Stone
Table of Contents
Prologue ~ Aaron
Chapter 1 ~ Aaron
Chapter 2 ~ Chloe
Chapter 3 ~ Aaron
Chapter 4 ~ Chloe
Chapter 5 ~ Aaron
Chapter 7 ~ Chloe
Chapter 8 ~ Aaron
Chapter 9 ~ Chloe
Chapter 10 ~ Aaron
Chapter 11 ~ Chloe
Chapter 12 ~ Aaron
Chapter 13 ~ Chloe
Chapter 14 ~ Aaron
Chapter 15 ~ Chloe
Chapter 16 ~ Aaron
Chapter 17 ~ Chloe
Chapter 18 ~ Aaron
Chapter 19 ~ Chloe
Chapter 20 ~ Aaron
Chapter 21~ Chloe
Chapter 22 ~ Aaron
Epilogue ~ Aaron
Caught Up © 2014
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author or publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at stonemelissa2380@yahoo.com.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead are coincidental.
Special thanks goes out to Scott Hildreth, D.L. Roan, Beth Cranford and Give Me Books Blog for allowing me to mention either themselves or their literary works in this novel.
I do not own the rights or copyrights to the brand names mentioned in this book.
I believe that if I should die, and you were to walk near my grave, from the very depths of the earth I would hear your footsteps
~Benito Perez Galdos
Prologue ~ Aaron
1999
Racing up the stone walk to my porch, I was immediately stopped from climbing the steps by a police officer. There was an ambulance parked on the front lawn and yellow caution tape everywhere. The police officer held me back a bit, widening his stance. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“This is my house, I have to get in there!” I yelled, pointing to the door of my house. I counted to ten, as I tried not to kick his ass. I wasn’t afraid of going to jail because some asshat with a badge wouldn’t let me into my own goddamned house.
“Daddy!” a voice yelled, making my head snap to the left. Bleu, my daughter, stood near the porch with tears on her face, holding onto the hand of her twin brother, Axel. She ran and threw herself at me, dragging Axel with her. Axel was dirty and one of his knees was scraped.
“Bleu, princess, what happened?” I asked kneeling down to her eye level. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, her cheeks were dirty. Axel stood next to her sniffling too. He let her go and started to cling to me. I picked both of them up and walked over to the oak tree in the front of our yard. Before I could talk to them, my neighbor, Blake, walked over, still in his fireman’s getup. His daughter was best friends with Bleu.
“Blake, what in the hell happened?” I asked, stepping toward him. He looked at his hands and then back up at me. His eyes were filled with tears and he sighed long and hard.
“Aaron, it’s not good. It’s... Angel...” he said, unable to finish.
“What about my wife? What about her?” I demanded. Axel whimpered in my arms and I kissed the top of his head.
“She’s...well, the kids found her inside. She’s...gone. She was a... mess... Aaron,” he said. “The kids ran over and we called the police.”
My vision grew hazy as I dropped to my knees and held my children tight to me. Blake put his hand on my shoulder and I openly sobbed. Looking up, I took a deep breath.
“Where is Beau?” I asked, looking around for him wildly. All I could see were police cars, an ambulance, and my neighbors.
“He’s still at school with Michael. The rugby team had an away game tonight in Willowvale,” he replied. The information didn’t really process, but I nodded anyway.
“Listen, let me take the kids to my house. The police need to talk to you,” he said, as he put his hand on my shoulder. Bending down, I kissed Bleu and Axel. Bleu looked up at me and she touched my cheek with her hand.
“It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll watch Axel and play with Abs,” she said, kissing me. I kissed her back. Without letting go of Axel’s hand, Bleu took Blake’s hand as they walked toward his house. Axel looked back at me, his sock monkey clutched in his little hand. I gave him a smile and he returned it. I watched them walk into Blake’s house. Running a hand through my hair, I willed my heart to keep beating, my lungs to keep taking in air.
“Mr. Drawn?” said a voice behind me. Turning, there stood a tall man in dark dress pants, a blue dress shirt, and a black tie. He ran a hand through his graying black hair and looked at me grimly. He looked familiar.
“Yes?” I said.
“I’m Detective Kirkpatrick. We have some questions for you,” he said.
“When can I see my wife?” I said. I just wanted to hold her, tell her that I was there. She had to be alright. He looked down at the ground and then back up, as if he was struggling to give me an answer.
“Sir, we are trying to find out some things. It didn’t look like anyone broke into the house. There was a sign of a struggle, but nothing to indicate a break in. Your wife was stabbed numerous times. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell you every detail of the murder,” he responded in his no nonsense, clipped voice.
“Murder? My Angel was murdered? How? Why? I want to know. I need to know,” I replied, forcing myself to calm down, balling my hands into fists. I could feel tears streaming down my face, burning into my skin. My Angel, my love, was dead. She can’t be dead. No, it was a mistake. This wasn’t happening, not fucking happening. Angel was going to walk out that door any minute and give me a pissed off look because the police had parked on her lawn. Any minute now.
My blood burned with desperation and I couldn’t get my head around a world without Angel in it. It was like the Earth tilted on its axis and we were all going to slide off into nothing. I really wanted to slide off into nothing.
“I, uh... no one told you what happened?” he asked. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. I was going to chop off his fucking hand if he fucked with his hair one more time.
“No. No one. I came home, to move back in with my wife and I find this here. Please. Tell me what happened?!” I cried.
“Sir, are you sure? We can go down to the station. We don’t have to do this here,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I looked down at his hand like it was a poisonous snake.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. So tell me what in the fuck happened to my wife before I lose my fucking mind!” I said through clenched teeth.
“Your wife was stabbed over 25 times. She was nearly decapitated, sir. Once we perform the autopsy, we’ll be able to determine if there was a sexual assault,” he said softly. With a moan, I fell to my knees. My beautiful Angel. Her light blonde hair, her huge blue eyes, the quiet softness of her voice. I would never see or hear it again. Some monster took her away from me. What was I going to do?
“Sir? Are you alright?” he asked, looking at me with concern. I looked up at him and then shook my head. Was he a fucking idiot? Of course I wasn’t alright!
“No, Detective, I’m never, ever going to be alright,” I responded grimly. He nodded, looked at me and walked away. He went over to a uniformed police officer, they began to talk and then they looked over at me. All I could do was stare at my front door as they wheeled out a gurney with what looked like a body bag on it. I closed my eyes and heard a high pitched scream. I came to realize after a few seconds, that it was me.
***
The trial was long and drawn out. I had been visiting my son, Matt, well, I had driven there but he wasn’t home. So I turned around and came right home, back to my Angel. Kaci wasn’t at the loony bin where she belonged and Kellan were nowhere to be found. Kellan couldn’t vouch for me because she had not physically seen me. Because I couldn’t prove that I wasn’t in my house murdering my wife, I was suspect number one. They used the fact that we were separated for a time, that I had a history of being in trouble, and being a bit of a hot head. I couldn’t account for my whereabouts. The cops had contaminated not only the scene but the evidence, well, some of it was “lost.” She had been killed with my knife, my fucking initials were on it. A knife I had lost over ten fucking years ago when I was with Kaci. It didn’t matter that my prints weren’t on it. And let’s not forget the lead detective was the brother of a man who sent me to jail over twelve years ago. The cops therefore pinned the murder of my wife, my only love, on me.
Fifteen years. I was sentenced to fifteen years. The jury, found me guilty of involuntary manslaughter. My children had minutes to say goodbye to me. My sister, Almeida, had agreed to take custody of them. Beau barely looked at me and didn’t say a single word, his blue eyes filled with so much pain. His little face a mask of stone. Poor Bleu, she looked destroyed. She screamed when she hugged me and then I had to go. She even kicked the police officer. My heart, already ripped to shreds, nearly exploded at her reaction. Axel just clung to me, burying his face into my leg.
“I’ll take care of them, Aaron. I promise,” said my sister as she cupped my face and then hugged me tight. Tangler patted m y shoulder, at a loss for words. The guards led me away and that was the last I saw of what was left of my family. I had lost everything. Absolutely everything.
Chapter 1 ~ Aaron
I realized early on in my life that all the shit you see in Disney movies and all those fancy words you read in greetings cards, they’re not real. Not everyone gets their happily ever after and those few lucky bastards that do, well, sometimes one man’s happily ever after can be another man’s nightmare. Once upon a time, I had the most amazing woman. She was everything. Hell, I was shocked that she even fell for a guy like me. And then she was gone, taken from me and I was alone, rotting in a jail cell. Alone like when my mom died and my yaya years later. Now, I’m not that kind of guy who sits there and feels sorry for himself. Never have been. I move on, pushing the pain deep inside, but I never forget.
How can you forget? How can you forget a laugh, a smile, the smell of a woman’s skin after you’ve been buried deep inside of her and she screams out your name as her nails rake down your back? How can you forget the way this person, your one and only person, molds into your body when you lay in bed together at night? How your hearts beat together as she rests her head on your chest? Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, you can’t. If you could, erase all that pain, would you? Can’t do that either. You either wallow in it, move on somewhat, or you do like I did. Once I got out of jail, I drowned my sorrows in women, booze, and bikes. Whatever dulls the pain and makes the constant movie reel of memories stop, even for one moment.
Some people don’t understand why I just ran away from my family and friends. You would think because my wife had died almost thirteen years ago, I wouldn’t miss her so much, that I wouldn’t run away from any and all happiness. They would be wrong. Dead wrong. Did I miss Angel? Yes. The pain of missing her, it was like inhaling razor blades and then trying to breathe around them. That is what the pain feels like, times one hundred million. But here’s the fucked up thing about your heart and your head, those two are never in sync. So I felt all this pain and yet I missed something more than just Angel. I missed being with someone. I was also scared. I was scared shitless of losing someone else like I’d lost her. I’m not an idiot about what happened to her. I think, deep down, I had a pretty good idea of who was involved with my wife’s death. Couldn’t do anything about it while I was in prison and now, the only person who might know the truth is dead. So the real question I had to ask myself: did I want to go through all that love bullshit again? Yeah. I did. But, I highly doubted that there’s a woman out there who could truly handle me and my moods. In and out of the bedroom. Was I jealous of my kids and their happiness? A little. But in the same breath, I wanted nothing but the best for them. Yeah, my head was fucked!
Speaking of my head, it currently felt like someone had tried to split it open with a baseball bat. Slowly, and with great effort, I cracked opened my eyes and winced a bit. I looked to my left. My insides cringed and my head throbbed a dull bass beat. Lifting my head up, I discovered that I wasn’t alone. The woman lying next to me was face down on the mattress, her leg thrown over my hip and one arm hanging off of the bed. She was skinny, with bleached blonde hair with three inch black roots. She was naked, a tattoo of a dragon snaking down her ribcage. Her skin smelled like stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey. My stomach dropped and my eyes wildly searched around the bedroom until they came to rest on the nightstand. Box of condoms, check. Though I was far from relieved. Yes, the box was there, but that didn’t mean shit. Cocking my head to the side, I looked down at the floor where her clothes and mine were tossed. Bingo! Three torn condom wrappers lay on the floor next to the bed. Looking up at the ceiling, I breathed a sigh of relief. My bed companion muttered in her sleep and I closed my eyes when she rolled over. She sat up and threw on a t-shirt, coughing loudly as she shuffled to the bathroom.
What in the hell had I done this time? Good job, Aaron, letting beer goggles dictate where you stuck your dick. Bravo, asshole! She closed the bathroom door softly. I shot up out of bed and grabbed my jeans, boots and keys. Shrugging on my black t-shirt, I slung my jeans over my left shoulder and sighed as I heard the shower turned on in the bathroom. The room spun a bit and I grabbed the door frame. After a minute, my vision cleared and I was able to walk to the kitchen. There were two empty liquor bottles on the table. Therapy, courtesy of Jack Daniels and the blonde in the bathroom. Shaking my head, I grabbed my leather jacket and walked out, closing the door softly behind me. Looked like I was getting dressed in the hallway—again. This situation was becoming a regular thing, but I really didn’t give a fuck. At least not when it was taking place.
Driving home in my truck, I needed to find a coffee place, fast. I needed caffeine. Spying a Starbucks, I pulled in, turned off the truck, and walked inside. I shivered against the cold as fuck weather and hurried toward the front door. I tried to pretend that I didn’t see the table of women by the door checking me out. I just wasn’t in the mood. At all. My flirting button was broken, had been for years. All I was interested in was a quick fuck. I really couldn’t offer more than that to anyone. I ordered my coffee and leaned on the counter, waiting for my order. A tall woman with short black hair came over. I casually looked at her. She was tall, thin and wearing a really short, black skirt, black suit jacket and heels. She was trying too hard to look young, in my opinion. I pegged her at about forty. I liked them younger and with some curves. Skinny chicks were good for a fast fuck, but nothing else.
“Hey, there. I like your tattoos,” she said and smiled. I smiled back. My fucking head was starting to pound again and I tapped my fingers on the stainless steel counter. She looked down at my left ring finger and saw that it was empty. She smiled, her confidence renewed. Not wearing a ring doesn’t mean shit.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing my coffee from the skinny guy behind the counter. He gave me a sympathetic smile and I nodded. The skinny chick just stood in my way. I looked her in the face, willing her to move out of the way. Yeah, I know, I know, I’m a dick. But I was also tired and hung over.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” I said, looking at her. She smiled again.
“I’m sorry for being so forward, but you’re the handsomest thing I’ve seen in a long time,” she said with a smile. Fuck.
“Thank you for the compliment, darlin’. I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but I have one hell of a hangover. I just want to drink my coffee and sleep this off before I go to work,” I said, looking into her eyes, giving her a small smile. I didn’t want to be a dick, I just wanted to be left alone.
“Okay. I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said softly, stepping aside and walking back to her table. I walked out of there and got into my truck. I could feel her eyes boring into my back.
After sleeping things off for a handful of hours in my rent-by-the week efficiency apartment, I took a quick shower and shaved my face, except for my goatee and got dressed in jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt. It seemed like that was my unofficial uniform lately. I grabbed my keys and left to go to work.
I was working at a shop here in Willowvale, about two hours away from where my family lived. I couldn’t leave the state as a condition of my parole, but I kept in touch weekly with my parole officer. The last thing I wanted to do was go back in jail. The shop was busy, and it kept my mind off the shit swirling around in my head. The alcohol and sex did that too. I was in a bad place, I knew. But honestly, I didn’t care. Angel was gone. Who in their right mind would want to settle down with someone like me? My kids were fine, those that were talking to me. What the fuck did anyone need me for?
“Hey, Aaron, what’s up man?” called out Ace, my boss, wiping his grease covered hands on a rag. I nodded a greeting to him. He was a short guy, long black hair braided down his back. Tattoos everywhere on his tanned, leathery skin.
“You look like shit, man,” he said with a grin, showing his gold tooth. He was a fellow Diablo Demon, like pretty much everyone who worked in the garage. He was good people.
“That’s what happens when an old man parties too hard,” I replied. He laughed. He and I were the same age, fifty-three. He was younger by six months and his stupid ass liked to rub it in.
