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Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1)
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Beautifully Shattered
Courtney Kristel
Copyright © 2015 by Courtney Kristel
Ebook formatting by Jesse Gordon
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
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
About the Author
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all of the readers that want to hide away, cry, or scream at the top of their lungs. It may not always be easy, but it does get better. Keep holding on. Life is beautiful, including the shattered pieces.
Acknowledgments
A special thanks to my very first reader, my sister Heather. Thank you for believing in me and pushing me to follow my dreams. Words can never describe how grateful I am for you being here for every step of the way, every word I typed, and every thought I had. Because of you, this story came to life. I love you.
Thank you Dad for helping me make my dream a reality. You have always helped me with reaching every goal of mine. You are the best dad a girl could ever ask for. I love you Daddy.
Monica, you are as much to thank for this story being finished as anyone else. Your love for the characters was the push I needed to finish. Thank you for all of your nagging and staying up until 4am reading the first draft. Now it’s your turn to see what I put Heather through. Love you big sis.
Twinsy, thank you for being you. I am so grateful that you would always listen to my ranting even though you had no idea what I was talking about. Thank you for stepping in when I needed you the most. You will forever be the first person to ever know my dream to write.
My wonderful editor, Stacy Juba, THANK YOU! Your insight has helped me tremendously. Without you, I would have ripped my hair out. You’ve made this whole process so much easier. Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback, emails, and comments about the plot twist.
The fantastic cover couldn’t have been done without the amazing designer, Danielle Hurps. Thank you for the numerous cover designs, and all of the other artwork. You’re incredibly talented.
Prologue
Connor nods to the left, indicating that Jax is striding our way. Stubbornly I stare straight ahead, refusing to face the man who has destroyed me. I wave my hand at my family, conveying that now is not the time for me to confront Jax.
“You’re here to celebrate my last meet of the year, not to force me to talk to him,” I mutter to Connor.
Connor doesn’t say anything as he walks the short distance to my family. Connor bends to whisper something in Hadley’s ear. Her thirteen-year-old self jumps up and down, giddy to do Connor’s bidding.
His footsteps become louder the closer he gets. I breathe deeply, enjoying my last breath of fresh air until he leaves. The Thai aroma almost brings a smile to my lips. I really wanted greased-filled pizza, the kind that is so delicious you know it’s blocking your major arteries, but because he’s here I wanted to make him suffer. So of course I chose the one food he hates. I even gave him a vindictive sneer when he searched the menu for something he would be able to stomach. Once he’s near, his scent will invade my senses like it always does; everything will disappear leaving only Jax. I can’t let that happen, not anymore. Because of what he did, I can never forgive him. I have to forget the love I still feel for him.
My brother says something to Dad, but I don’t catch it. I’m too focused on listening to the way Jax’s steps sound on the concrete. He’s almost near me. I go for indifference as my Mom studies my reaction. I fear she’s aware of why I’m suddenly anti-Jax, but she has yet to voice her suspicions. I used to stay up late at night wishing that Jax would change, crying into my mom’s lap while she ran her fingers through my hair, consoling me for something I can’t be honest about. My wishes never came true. I should have known that Jaxon Chandler would ruin me.
I slide on my sunglasses even though it’s cloudy. The rare Southern California storm has arrived. Hopefully it’s gone by tomorrow, or the barbecue my parents have planned for my seventeenth birthday won’t happen. Not that I’m in the mood to celebrate. Every spring, for the past eight years, I’ve looked forward to my birthday for one reason. Jax. He always sneaks in and gives my present to me in private. Our tradition is now broken, like us.
I check whether anyone is watching us. They’re not, their attention glued to my little sister showing off some ballet move. Without turning to see if he’s following me, I stalk behind the Thai restaurant. His footsteps thud against the pavement.
He starts in as soon as we’re deep enough in the alley that my parents won’t hear me shouting. “Ads—”
I whirl around, eyes blazing. “No! You lost the chance to call me that when you stepped onto the plane.” I stab my finger into his hard chest. “You lost the chance to ask ANY questions! You have no right to speak to me!”
His arms hover over me, as if he wants to touch me. He’s fighting the same battle I am. If he pulls me into his arms, I’ll melt into him. His pretty words will wash over me; everything will disappear. Jax isn’t the sun, he’s the darkness, preventing me from shining. I can’t let him in again.
Decision made, I step away. His arms fall to his sides. “Why are you here?” I demand.
“Please give me the chance to explain. You stopped taking my calls, you’ve locked your window. You leave when I come by.”
I laugh. “So you thought ambushing me earlier, at my swim meet and in front of my family, was the right choice? You thought if I laid eyes on your handsome face, all would be forgiven? I HATE YOU, JAXON! Nothing you can say will ever make me forgive you.”
He drops to his knees in front of me. His hands dig into my hips as he looks up at me. I wipe my angry tears away. I won’t cry because of him. Jaxon Chandler has been the reason for too many of my tears. No more.
“I’m here. Doesn’t that count?” he says against my stomach.
We’re standing in front of the dumpster. The stench should be overwhelming, but all I smell is Jax. I torture myself with the woodsy scent, hating that I’m enjoying his close proximity.
It takes a second too long for my legs to carry me away from his touch. “It’s too late. You should have stayed in New York.”
“Ads—”
I shake my head as I back up. “I never want to see you again. I’ll be fine without you.” I grab my iPod from my pocket.
“I want to—” His words die as I insert my earbuds and leave the alley.
Coldplay blast in my ears, blocking out Jax. I lean against the brick wall of the restaurant and watch my family in the parking lot. My heart stops when I feel him
behind me. He makes no move to touch me. He leans over until his breath pours over my bare shoulder.
His nearness still has the same effect it always has on me. I shouldn’t have given him such power over me. He makes me feel helpless. I can’t be the lovesick teenager anymore. I have responsibilities now. I allow myself to breathe him in before pushing off the wall and wandering back to my family.
Each step takes me further from the man I love.
As much as I hate him, I can never regret us.
“There you are, Adalynn. Where have you been?” my mom asks as I reach the car.
My spine stiffens. I know we’re going to fight. That’s all we do now. I hate fighting with my parents, but I can’t tell them the truth. I promised myself if he got on the plane then we would be over. All he is now to me is Logan’s best friend, a guy I have to avoid at all cost. He has no right to be more.
I never meant to fall in love with my brother’s best friend, but twelve years ago I fell for his charming smile. As the years went by, little by little I allowed him into my heart. I thought he was my knight in shining armor. I was wrong. As I settle into the backseat of my dad’s Range Rover, I have only one thought.
Jaxon Chandler will be the death of me.
Chapter One
Six years later . . .
Every Tuesday is the same for me. I work at the bakery in the mornings, go to my therapy appointment in the late afternoon, and finally I have dinner with the guys. The only thing that changes is the location. I live a simple life, well, as simple as I can manage after causing my parents’ and sister’s death six years ago on my seventeenth birthday.
My body automatically tenses. I stare at the blank eggshell walls in my penthouse and shove those memories in the back of my mind before they can haunt me. I tell myself to relax, but no matter how many times I try to get comfortable on my suede couch, I can’t seem to unwind. Ed Sheeran plays in the background, but the solace I usually feel listening to the calming music is missing. My hands itch to do the one thing that will bring a peaceful calm over me. I visualize using the sharp blade I keep taped underneath my sink, feeling the cold of the steel as it nips my skin. I can practically see the blood dripping down my thigh. I slap those images away, too. I’m not that girl anymore.
As soon as I woke up today, I immediately knew something was off. I can’t put it into words; it’s something that I can feel all the way to my bones. I haven’t been able to shake off this sensation all day. I try concentrating on anything but today’s date. It’s almost as if my mind is in a war with my heart. My soul won’t let me forget and my mind attempts to push me past it, to move on. Something changed between the time I closed my eyes last night and when I opened them this morning.
I’ve been in and out of therapy ever since the accident. My brother, Logan, insists that I continue to see Olivia White since I have made “noticeable progress” with her over the other therapists that I have seen since the accident. If he has to go out of town for work he leaves either Connor or Jax, his two best friends since childhood, to babysit me. In other words I’m not to be left to my own devices.
Within these last six years, Logan has become less of a brother and more of a parent. He moved me from California to Manhattan, sent me to college for a business degree, and bought me a penthouse in walking distance from his place. I refused to move in with him after graduation so he made sure that he didn’t have to wait in New York traffic to visit me. He feels better knowing that I’m close, so I don’t fight him on it.
Before the accident I wouldn’t have stood for Logan treating me like I’m made out of porcelain. After? I allowed it because I didn’t care about anything. Now I’m starting to crave the independence I gave up to my brother without a fight.
He takes protectiveness to a whole new level. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had one of my doctors insert a GPS tracker in me. I can’t really blame him, though. I’m the reason that we have no family and he’s almost lost me twice. He won’t allow there to be a third time.
It’s my night to host this week’s dinner. The boys had to leave for an emergency at the office, but promised to bring dinner. I already laid out the white plates that Logan bought me when he purchased the penthouse. Everything in here is white, just the way I like it. The only color comes from a painting, mounted above my couch, that the interior designer snuck in. It’s a shadow of a girl holding a bright yellow umbrella while the storm rages on, falling from the dark, unforgiving night sky. I allow it to stay because I can’t care about pointless decorations when all my energy goes into not giving up.
I’m antsy, counting the minutes since the guys left. Once they return, they’ll distract me. They’ll buy Thai food to please me, even though Jax hates it, they’ll paint smiles on their faces, and not voice what’s on everyone’s mind. Today, May 21, six years ago, my life was consumed by darkness, stealing my every promise of a happy future.
I grab my phone to see if any of the guys have texted. Nope. I’ve been sitting here for almost an hour staring into space. Fantastic. I can’t wait here and do nothing. I become lost in my thoughts and that’s never good. I force myself off the couch and change into workout clothes. Hopefully a few miles on the treadmill will chase this unnerving feeling out of my gut. I send Logan a quick text while I press the L button in the elevator.
Me: Gonna hit the gym. Bringing my phone. Call when you guys are leaving the office. Love you.
I don’t bother to put away my phone. No matter what he is doing, Logan will always respond to me. Always. Best brother award goes to him.
Logan: No problem. You might get a full hour in. This is taking longer than I expected or I would have waited until tomorrow to handle it. Love you too baby girl.
Logan: Oh and don’t forget to do weights too not just cardio.
I roll my eyes. Of course my meathead brother would remind me to do weights. He is such a body builder.
Me: I understand your need to take over the world so take your time. Just give me a heads up so I can shower.
I tiptoe through the lobby, hating how my footsteps echo on the marble floor. I look down and avoid anyone I pass. I don’t have the energy to smile and nod. Not today. Opening the glass doors to the gym, I ignore the Olympic size pool I can see from the entrance. It’s impossible to miss with the glass walls on one side. The pillars have vines wrapped around them, giving it the appearance of a magical place. I’ve never stepped in there even though it beckons me. From here, I know I’ll secretly love the decor, though, because it reminds me of the Greek Gods. Of him.
I head straight to the treadmill to clear my mind. I still don’t understand the point of continuing this stupid, futile charade of seeing Olivia White every other Tuesday afternoon. I think the whole idea is crazy. Nothing is going to change. I don’t want it to change. I don’t want to move on. I can’t. I need to remember what I did, who we lost.
I deserve to suffer unbelievable pain because of my actions. I am barely able to live now and what Liv wants seems impossible. That little voice in the back of my head thinks differently, though. I can do it. I can learn how to live again. I can have more. I want—
Nope, I shove that thought in the furthest part of my mind along with all the useless ones.
After a quick warm-up on the treadmill, I increase the speed. I focus on the sound of my feet hitting the belt with each step. I control my breathing the way my brother hammered into me at a young age when I got serious about working out. I wanted to strengthen my muscles for swimming. I spent hours upon hours training daily, never obtaining enough sleep. A small trail of sweat drips off my forehead and lands on the belt. My surroundings start to disappear as I replay today’s therapy session in my head.
“Adalynn, what do you think?”
I glance up from my hands and see Liv staring at me. I can tell from her disturbed expression this isn’t the first time she’s attempted to jostle me out of my thoughts.
“What’s the question? Sorry, Liv, I either stopp
ed paying attention the moment I walked in, or the moment you brought up my dead parents and dead sister.”
I gawk at Liv, mortified. I can’t believe I actually said that out loud. I swear under my breath. “Sorry, Liv, I’m just distracted today.”
“Addie, you and I both know that I am used to your . . .” She pauses and I decide to help her out.
“Unique sense of humor?” I joke as I collect my long brown hair into a messy bun.
I wish that I took the time to gather my waves into a nice updo like she has done with her honey hair. She always looks so regal, something that I aspire to be. Even in a simple pair of black jeans, I carry myself as if I don’t have a care in the world. I refuse to let anyone see me as the broken twenty-four year old that I am.
“Let’s go with that. I’m used to your unique sense of humor by now. You can’t offend me. I want you to speak your mind. If you need sarcasm to do that, then by all means, just don’t shut me out, especially today of all days.”
Liv is my favorite therapist out of all of them. She always talks to me like I’m a human being, not just someone she has to focus on for an hour to get paid. I respect her as a person, but I still hate that she’s trying to encourage me to talk about them today. Although I was expecting it; after all it is the anniversary of their deaths. May 21, my birthday.
“Okay, I’m paying attention now. What was the question?”
I know the second the words leave my mouth I’m going to regret it. I should have just continued to tune her out until our session ended. My leg bounces up and down, a nervous habit of mine, when I notice the look she’s giving me. It’s the one that tells me I’m not going to take it well, but she’s going to say it anyways.
“I know discussing your family is extremely difficult, especially today. You can talk about them here, to me.” She pauses. “You think you don’t want to be here.” I manage to give a light nod. She is right after all. I don’t want to be here.
My gaze wanders to the panoramic window behind her like it usually does whenever she exposes my past. I can never seem to hold her gaze. Her thoughtful eyes are more knowing then I would like. I watch the outside world as she studies me. I know she’s waiting until she has my undivided attention before she speaks. I sigh loudly before turning my unwilling violet eyes back to her hazel ones.