Just an Illusion - EP
Just an Illusion
EP
D. Kelly
Just an Illusion EP
Copyright © 2017 D. Kelly
Editing by – Beyond DEF
Cover design by – Regina Wamba – Mae I Design and Photography - http://www.maeidesign.com
Formatting by – Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright
Original lyrics written by Dee Kelly
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information contact
Dee Kelly www.dkellyauthor.com
This book contains mature subject matter and is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, sexual situations, and alcohol consumption.
EBOOK - 978-1-64007-444-6
Dee Kelly
P.O. Box 940123
Simi Valley, CA. 93094
Table of Contents
Books by D. Kelly
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Amelia – Present Day
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Amelia – Present Day
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Amelia – Present Day
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Amelia – Present Day
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Amelia – Present Day
Chapter 23
Amelia – Present Day
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Acceptance Series –
Breaking Kate – Book One
Catching Kate – Book 1.5
Releasing Kate- Book Two
Loving Kate – Book Three
Christmas with the Houstons – Book Four
Stand Alone Novels
Chasing Cassidy
Sharing Rylee
The Evolution of Us (Coming Fall 2017)
The Illusion Series
Just an Illusion – Side A
Just an Illusion – The B Side
Just an Illusion – EP
Just an Illusion – Unplugged (Coming January 2018)
http://www.dkellyauthor.com/all-books
http://www.dkellyauthor.com/mailing-list/
For anyone who has ever been submerged in the darkness and found your way through to the light, this book is for you.
Warning – Per the request of The Side B reader group. Please have wine, tissues, and chocolate in hand. I’m pretty sure if you’ve read The B Side this is a given, but I’m doing my due diligence by extending the warning.
“Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.”
– Ernest Hemingway
Amelia
Present Day – Two Years After The Tour
Last night, as I wrote about the crash, my hands trembled with such force Karen had to take my computer away. I spent the rest of the night crying, wrapped in her loving arms. Everything changed that night. One moment I was making love to Noah, and the next … total chaos. There were only two things I knew instinctively that night: I’d lost Belle, and I was in labor.
What happened after the impact has never been clear to me—mostly flashes of memories, which are hazy at best. Not being able to piece together the particular order of events was driving me crazy. For months, I struggled with soul-stealing nightmares, until I read the first part of Sawyer’s new journal. I’m not sure why he started with the accident, other than it was the coping mechanism he’d learned in therapy. But when he trusted me with his pages—all his innermost thoughts—it softened my heart. He let me read them because he wanted me to have a clear reference of what they saw, what they heard, and what they went through. He also wanted me to realize I wasn’t alone in what I was going through. They needed to be able to lean on me as much as I was leaning on them.
When I read his words, my world spun on its axis. I tried pretending I was reading a story and it wasn’t my life within those pages. But when I finished, pain shot through my chest as if I’d been stabbed in the heart with a dagger. Each breath more painful than the last, it felt as if it were being pulled out one millimeter at a time. Once I recovered from the shock, I was numb. I thought knowing would change something, make me feel better somehow. In a way it did, but in other ways, everything was worse.
That night irrevocably changed my life. It changed all our lives. Each of us lives with gaping holes in our hearts which will never be healed, no matter how much we try. And in the beginning, I didn’t try. I gave up; all I wanted to do was die.
I now see it wasn’t fair of me to put my grief above theirs while each of them, in the midst of their own issues, willingly took on mine. They tried so hard to lift me up just the slightest bit each day. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to not take a handful of pills and end it all. I thought everyone would have been better off without me, but in the deep recesses of my mind I knew I couldn’t leave Nate without his mother. He was the shining star in my darkness, even if it took me a long time to admit it. Motherhood wasn’t ever my dream, and Nate’s entry into the world was unconventional, but my son is the spitting image of Noah. He owns my heart just like Noah has since the moment he first smiled at me. Last night, before I went to bed, I sent him the second part of my pages. It was late, and he was probably asleep, but I had to do it before I chickened out. Besides, I owe him those pages … and so much more. I want to work my way through this for him, for us, for our family. I’m just not sure I’m strong enough.
This morning, I woke to the sun streaming through my window. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon rolls leads me to the kitchen, where Karen sits with my Kindle.
“Good Morning, Amelia. How do you feel today?” With love in her eyes, she passes me a cup of coffee.
“I’m okay.”
“Good, and you will continue to be okay,” she says as she places a roll on a plate with a fork and a knife for me. “I finished the first part.”
The moment of truth. “What did you think?”
“Well, I may be biased, but I think it’s one of the best stories I’ve ever read. Even if you don’t publish this as the story you owe them, I think you could still publish it and it would be a best seller.” The way her eyes twinkle confirms she’s not placating me.
“I’m not sure that’s something I’d ever do. Mostly, I’m curious to see what he thinks about it all.”
“You know he supports you in everything you do. He always has.” That is also the truth. “I’d like to stay and read the second part while you write the ending.”
“You’re welcome to stay and read, but I’m not sure I’m going to be finishing.” Not after last night.
“Amelia,” she squeezes my fingers in hers, “what do we always say?”
“The only way out is through,” I whisper.
“Yes, and sweetheart, you’ve already been out and through. Sometime
s, you have to go back and shut the door that was left open in your rush to escape. Another will open, but you have to first close that door.”
The tears begin to pour freely from my eyes. “But what if I can’t?” My sobbing words fall on her shoulders as she pulls me close to her.
“You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Not only can you do this, you will do this. I’m not saying it’s not going to hurt, but losing him would hurt much, much worse.”
“Why is he so stubborn? Why is he making me do this?”
Her eyes soften as she meets my gaze. “Because two years is a long time to watch the woman you love wither away in front of your eyes. I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s right, Amelia. You’re not living, you’re existing. There’s a difference.”
“Living hurts.”
“No, sweetheart. Pain hurts, tragedy hurts, loss hurts. But living makes the pain less. It moves the tragedies into the past. Loss should be a reminder to live each day to the fullest.”
Live today like there’s no tomorrow.
Sniffling, I ask, “How do you stay so positive?”
“I’m not sure being positive has anything to do with it. There’s a cycle to life, Mel. Everyone is born with a death sentence. When we choose to live our days being sad and miserable, it’s a slap in the face to those who would give anything for one more day. Especially when those people are the ones who would be moving heaven and earth to make you whole again. It’s time for your light to shine again …for good this time. No more peeking out into the light only to retreat into the dark.”
I hate that she makes sense. Even worse, she’s absolutely right.
“Karen, can you call Anna? I’m going to take a shower. Tell her to bring her Kindle and tequila. If anyone else deserves to read this as it happens, it’s her.”
“Of course, but I also think we need to call Rory. Let’s put all these demons to rest.”
Rory. She’s got every right to be here. This divisiveness is killing their family.
“Okay. Rory, too. But warn her about the sex and not to read it. I can’t be responsible for traumatizing her. Not again.”
“Consider it done.”
I’m not sure there’s enough tequila in the world to write this last part of the story, but I’ll try for him. Fortunately, a couple of years ago, Sawyer wrote out what happened that night, hoping it would help with my memory. All I need to do now is hold on to the courage to retype his words before having to find my own again.
The Accident
Sawyer
Two years ago
With the exception of Cadence – we’re having a boys’ night. Noah declined the invitation to join us because he didn’t want to leave Mel so close to her due date. I know I wouldn’t have.
“Do you think Noah is going to knock Mel into labor?” Wyatt asks, and the rest of the guys snicker. But not me. I’m too excited.
“I fucking hope so. I can’t wait to meet Noah’s kid. My nephew is going to be the shit.”
Noah and Mel are probably going to have the most perfect kid in the world. The two of them are so sweet and even-tempered. Mel’s got a little bad girl tucked away deep inside; it’s a riot when she releases her. Like the time she punched that girl at the hotel. That was one of the best things I’d ever seen. Or like the time I kissed her in my bathroom. Damn …I know I’m not supposed to think of her like that anymore, but that was still one of the hottest experiences of my life and I didn’t even make it to second base. Noah is a lucky bastard.
“Sawyer, Luther wants to talk to you,” Mac calls out, catching my attention. I love talking to Luther; we could shoot the shit for hours, but typically not at night. He likes to stay focused on the road when it’s dark.
“Hey, Luther, what’s up?” I ask, climbing up to the front.
“You see that?” he asks, gesturing in front of us. “My guess is it’s still a few miles out.”
About a quarter mile ahead of us, all I see is Noah’s bus and fog. Lots and lots of dense fog.
“Where’s the next exit?”
“About five miles ahead,” he replies.
“Call it. Tell the drivers to get off for the night.”
“You got it, boss.”
We don’t take chances with weather. I’m extra conservative that way, but I’ve seen people die before their time in tragic ways. I’m not going to be responsible for someone else’s death because my tour takes precedence. Fuck no. Life takes precedence.
“Guys,” I call out, “we’re stopping for the night. Bad fog up ahead.” My phone is already in my hand and I’m calling Noah. Suddenly grabbing onto the wall for support, a wave of nausea strikes me.
“What’s up, Sawyer?” Noah sounds happy as can be.
“Hey, we wanted to give you a heads up. We’re pulling off the freeway in about five miles for the night. Have you noticed the fog out there? It’s insane so we’re calling—”
My words are cut off when I see the explosion of light ahead of us. On the other end of the line, I’m met with blood-curdling screams before the call drops completely. The sound of metal against metal carries through the night. It’s muted by our soundproofed bus but still audible. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, but I instinctively know it’s about to change our lives.
My heart races as Luther slows the bus and talks to the other drivers, telling them to do the same. My mind is processing a million thoughts a minute as the guys yell, trying to understand what the fuck just happened.
“Call for help. Tell them we’re going to need choppers.” Luther is moving before I even get the words out of my mouth.
They hadn’t even entered the fog yet, but something took out their bus. As soon as our bus stops, I’m off and running. I’m shaking like a leaf and have no idea how my feet are even moving beneath me. All I do know is I need to get to Noah fast. Something is wrong with him; I can feel it.
Please, God, protect my family.
“Holy shit, Sawyer! Holy shit!” Wyatt’s screams travel through the night air behind me.
The ominous fog is still a bit in the distance, leaving the devastating scene in front of us clear and vivid. I’ll never be able to erase this from my mind. The entire front quarter of the bus has been sheared off and is ten feet away with a massive delivery truck impaled in it. The road is littered with glass and debris, and jagged metal and sparking electrical wires make it difficult to determine how to get inside.
My thoughts continue to race as I cry out frantically for Noah, Mel, and Belle. My heart sinks in my chest knowing there’s no possible way Harold survived the impact. Hell, I’m not sure any of them could have. The bus is askew on its side, blocking the entire roadway.
“Noah! Mel! Belle! Please answer me! Where are you?” My frantic cries are balanced on a sob as I fight back my tears. I can’t lose my shit, not yet, they could still be okay. We have the safest buses in the industry. They have to be okay.
Mac and Ryan are right behind me, and the echoes of Warren and Darren arguing in the distance about who will take Cadence back to the bus catch up to my ears.
“Noah, please answer me!” I scream.
The electrical system is sparking like crazy, and someone is working on spraying it down with a fire extinguisher, but I’m just focused on getting into this bus any way I can.
Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I carefully make my way through. Everything is in disarray. The kitchen and living area items are comingled; everything seems to be piled on top of something else. The impact was so significant it eradicated all the safety options put in place to keep the furniture down. My gut is screaming no one could have survived this. But I won’t believe it—can’t believe it—until I know for sure.
The others are calling out, having made their way into the bus with me. Their pale, stricken faces take in the scene with wide, fear-filled eyes.
“Alright, you guys, let’s move things carefully and see i
f we can find them,” I instruct, tears streaming down my face. I’ve never been so fucking scared in all my life. My family is in this disaster zone somewhere, but I have to remain calm if I’m going to be any good for them.
“Shh … do you guys hear something?” Darren asks.
Someone is moaning. Thank God. It means someone is alive.
“Over there!” Wyatt screams.
Mac and Ryan jump into action, moving the couch and table off the victim. It’s Noah. My tears begin to fall harder, but I don’t care as long as he’s alive.
Falling to my knees next to him, I check his pulse. It’s strong, but he’s not moving. “Noah, can you hear me? Noah! Answer me!” My wounded cries go unanswered, but he continues to moan.
“Do you guys see the girls anywhere?” I call out as they carefully work their way through the bus, moving furniture one piece at a time.
“Noah, please talk to me. Do you know where the girls are?”
“Sawyer,” he gasps, as if breathing is the most painful thing in the world. “Mel … my room.”
“What about Belle? Was she in my room?” I press, hoping to keep him talking until help arrives.
“Belle … flew. She flew, Sawyer,” he answers through gasping breaths.
What the fuck does that mean?
“Is she in my room, Noah? Belle … did she go to my room?”
He gasps again, an awful, wheezy sound escaping him. Fuck, where are the emergency crews?
“She flew out … outside.”
No. He’s just out of it. That can’t be right.
Before I have a chance to say anything, Darren runs outside.
“Someone go with him!” I shout. Ryan runs after Darren and I hold Noah’s hand tightly. “We got you, Noah. Everything is going to be okay. Keep breathing.”
“Mel … find Mel.”
“Sawyer,” Wyatt says, leaning down, “go to Mac. He found Mel. I’ll stay with Noah.” Wyatt is crying as he sits next to Noah and takes his hand from me. I don’t want to leave him, but I need to check on her.