Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Extras

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  On the Edge by Mari Brown

  Chapter 1

  Learning to Forgive by R.D. Cole

  ISBN-10: 0-9912894-2-0

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9912894-2-4

  Book Cover- Berto Designs

  Photographer: Chuck Condron with XE Photography http://www.xephotography.com

  Designer: Rebecca Berto with Berto Designs http://bertodesigns.com

  Model: Damien Ray Decent (Dirdy) https://www.facebook.com/damiendecent

  Editing/Formatting: Indie Express LLC https://www.facebook.com/Indieexpress

  Published in the United States of America

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any other information storage and retrieval system without the written permission from the author, except for brief quotations in a review.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is not transferable and may not be resold, shared, or given away to other people. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher's permission. Criminal copyright infringement including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  If you’re reading this, then it’s for you. I dedicate this book to all the readers who take chances on Indies, support us, and love our stories as much as we do.
  Nov 4, 2012

  Blaire

  Today is the day I say my final goodbye, but the words refuse to leave my tight-lipped mouth. It’s not supposed to be this way. We have so many plans we’ve made that we still need to do. Plus, I’m not ready to lose you. I’m not ready to never see you again. You’re the one person who always went first to make sure that it is safe for me… The person who shared every secret with me and vice versa before we even took our first breath.

  You were my protector and knight, the reason I kept going when I wanted to give up. You hid my darkest secret and never looked at me differently. You promised you would never leave me. But you lied. Just like everyone else.

  Now, I stand above the wet ground, watching as the brown box lowers deeper in the earth while you rest in there… cold, alone, not breathing. Except… I’m the one who can’t breathe without you.

  My mind travels from just a few days ago to the present. The finality sets in, and no matter how hard I try to wake from this nightmare, I can’t. My hands grip the sides of my metal chair as my head starts to swim, and black spots enter my vision. The crack in my heart opens more with every word that passes the minister’s mouth.

  Benji may be resting in peace, but I’m the one who will never know peace. A lie and a needle have ripped my peace away. I can’t fix this or go back in time, but I can make a promise to my friend… my brother... my twin. I will never forget him, or the reason he’s gone from me. Never forget his laughter or his love. And especially the last thing he told me. Of the life that will never be because of one person.

  Two weeks later

  “No… no… no! Come on, you piece of crap. Go just a little further, please? I promise, as soon as I can, I’ll get you whatever you need. Just please, for the love of all that is holy, keep going.”

  My prayer lands on deaf ears. Or whatever this old Toyota uses to listen to my rant because it sputters as smoke pours out of the hood.

  I know it runs hot, but I put my last two gallons of water in the stupid thing a few miles back. Fuck my life. Why is this happening to me? Why didn’t I take the time to get the stupid thing fixed? Because Benji always told me not to let people take advantage of me, and the idiot at the automotive place wanted me to pay an arm and a leg to repair whatever is wrong. I only have so much money left and that would have left me broke.

  Feeling forsaken, I pull over and punch the steering wheel over and over again. Please, let this be a damn nightmare. What am I supposed to do now? I’m not used to being on my own. My whole life, I’ve had Benji, but not anymore. Now I have nobody. Who did I piss off in the universe that has it out to make my life a living Hell? Tears form as it dawns on me that there’s nothing around and no traffic coming my way on this deserted road. I’m somewhere in BFE, Nevada with a broken down ‘83 Toyota Camry and two hundred dollars to my name.

  After stepping out of the car, I kick my tire and scream, desperate that someone will hear me before I rot on this road to nowhere. Hell! Call the crazy bus to come get me. I don’t care. I just want to… to… Crap! I have no idea what I want anymore.

  It’s my own fault I’m here. The need to get away had me packing up and running from what I knew and what my old dreams were at one time. All I ever wanted was one moment of pure happiness. Something I’ve always seen in others. But I’m left feeling disgusted with myself and with nowhere to go.

  More screams emerge before the tears try to come once more. But I’m tired of crying, tired of feeling sad. Wiping the moisture away, I focus on my anger and look toward the sky before I shout again. “Ahh!” When my voice starts to feel scratchy and cracks, I stop and catch my breath.

  My eyes look up toward a cloudless sky as I try to think of my next move. Except my mind can’t help but notice how its beauty is so opposite to how my life is. Where it’s serene, I’m such a damn mess. While growing up, peace was something I never knew.

  Breathing deeply, I can’t help but wonder if Benji is up there somewhere. If he is, I hope he can see the finger I’m holding up. “What did I ever do to deserve this? Huh? Well, I got news for you, Benjamin, I’m going to go to Vegas and live our dream without you. You hear me? I’m going to make it big and have all the money we always talked about when we were growing up. While you just sit up there, or wherever, and do nothing.”

  But I’m only filled with gusto because I have no desire to sing or touch an ivory key ever again. I don’t know what I plan on doing when I get to Vegas, but it
won’t be music. Maybe I’ll become a showgirl. Yeah right! The very thought of random people watching me sends shivers down my spine. I’ll probably waitress like I’m used to doing. Maybe I’ll get a cat so I won’t feel so alone.

  The wind blows my hair in my face and makes a chill overtake me. It’s December, and it’s cold. I only have one jacket and a few pairs of jeans in my back seat, so if I need to camp in my car tonight, I’ll have to bundle up. It won’t be the first time, and I’ve certainly slept in worse conditions. Maybe I’ll die and give the birds something tasty to eat. That way I’ll have done something in my life.

  So I wait. And wait. Now the sun has vanished, and the chill from earlier has dropped to almost freezing levels. The car battery eventually died so now every exhale is visible, and my fingers are almost frozen. My last cereal bar has been devoured, but luckily, I haven’t had an appetite lately. It’s been at least an hour since the last car passed, but a lot of help that prick was. He just kept going, not paying any attention to the freezing girl stranded on the road. Fucker!

  I rub my chilled fingers together, desperate to gain feeling and warmth in them, and when I look up, white lights are coming my way. Should I let myself freeze to death or try again? I don’t want to die in my car, so I decide to try once more. The last time I hitchhiked was with Benji when we left our own personal hell the day of our eighteenth birthday. It was the best gift we could have received. Freedom. Or at least we thought we were free.

  I stand beside my car and wave my hands in the air while jumping up and down. Deciding to show whoever it is that I’m a helpless girl, I take my hoodie off and bring my fading red hair over my shoulder. When the SUV keeps going past me, I feel frustrated and pissed, but then I watch in amazement as its brakes light up and it turns around. Excitement and fear cause my heart to beat fast. “Shit!” Was this a good idea? I know desperate times call for desperate measures, but what if this person is on the run? There’s no turning back now, but I’m pretty fast if I need to make a quick getaway.

  When the vehicle pulls up to my side, I hold my breath as the window rolls down. Sitting in the driver seat is a woman who looks to be only a few years older than I am, so I exhale in relief.

  “Need a ride?” She speaks around her cigarette.

  Her blue eyes show no threat, so I decide she’s harmless. Maybe a little wild, judging by her large, showcased breasts and tight clothing. However, wild I can handle, I think.

  “Another lessoned learned. Another wall up.”

  ~Blaire

  10 Months later

  Blaire

  “Hit me, Blaire. Hit me,” Mandy yells from above me as I lie on the mat trying to catch my breath. “Don’t be weak. Don’t cower. Fight, damn it. Fight.” She comes to kick me, but I grab her foot causing her to fall beside me with a heavy thud.

  My entire body aches from her blows, but I stand up anyways ready for more. My wrapped fist swings out to hit her, but she’s too fast and dodges it. My uppercut doesn’t graze her. It’s always like this with her. No matter how many months we practice she’s just too damn fast. We rented out the entire gym tonight while visiting Los Angeles. Tomorrow night we hit the town, but tonight we practice and ready ourselves for the worse situation possible.

  We circle one another preparing for anything to happen. She side steps, and before I know what’s happening, she has me in a backwards chokehold.

  “Fuck, Blaire. When are you going to learn?” Then I feel the cold metal against my temple before I hear the pull back of a gun. “Fight. For. Your. Life,” she whispers menacingly in my ear.

  It’s a do or die situation. She’s taught me how to fight and get even. Since she found me on that highway, she’s made sure her life mantra is with me every day. “Fuck them over before they fuck you.”

  So I fight the best I can and rear my elbow back with everything I have until impact to her midsection is made and I’m rewarded with her releasing me with a grunt. My fist extends out with force to hit her the way she wants me to, but I’m faced with the pistol she never released. My body freezes with fear. “Bang. You’re dead.” Her voice is void of emotion as she pulls the trigger. Relief washes over me because it’s empty, and only a clicking can be heard. My heart is pounding in my ears, and my knees are shaking. She shows no remorse and never apologizes. She is the epitome of the word bitch.

  Mandy is wild, and I can’t deny she’s a bitch, but she’s also a businesswoman who gave me a job. Not a typical one that is five days a week, but one that’s only on Saturday nights, pays a hell of a lot of money, and provides expensive clothes, hotels, and new experiences. Now, I don’t dwell in my anger as much. I use it on some of the world’s richest sleazes. It probably is the only reason I haven’t gone crazy. I find jerkoffs with too much money and not enough sense to stay loyal to their wives, or they have some other dark secrets. Mandy has a men are the enemy mentality, and believes they’re all scum. She says our weekly lessons are for my protection in case one tries to overpower me. You never know what some lowlifes might try even though they’re dressed like gentlemen. So I keep my eyes and ears on alert, trust my gut, and have my gun stashed in my clutch.

  It’s Thursday night, and I’m sitting at a five-star hotel bar in Los Angeles, drinking my glass of Cabernet and scoping out the place discreetly. I’m still sore, and needed extra makeup to cover my lip, but Mandy is a Jack-Of-All-Trades. She can shoot, fight, lie, and even turn a nobody like me into someone unrecognizable. She sits at a nearby table talking to an older gentleman in an Armani suit with graying hair and sporting some heavy bling on his hands. Her usual meal for the night.

  Turning my stool around, my attention goes back to the young bartender in his crisp white button down before taking another sip to calm my nerves. Nausea always tries to set in before I meet my unsuspecting client. The thought of some fucker’s hand touching mine is enough to make me change my mind and walk out those glass doors, but I keep reminding myself I’m trained and strong. Not weak. Not vulnerable. Nothing like I used to be. I concentrate instead on the itch this stupid ass wig is causing my scalp. Disguise is key in this business, and my bright red hair would cause someone to pick me out of the crowd too easily.

  Tonight I chose one that’s long and black because it brings more attention to my hazel eyes. Plus it complements the skintight pencil skirt I’m wearing with a three quarter sleeved white blouse that shows off my cleavage. It also hides my tattoos because snobs like this bunch would be real quick to judge a person like me. Add a pair of square, black-framed glasses and voilà. I’m Ms. Crystal Galloway, a graduate of Stanford University, who’s looking for a new job. It’s neat to play dress up and become someone different for a night. But sometimes, even covered with new clothes and a new name I still feel like the same Blaire from so long ago.

  As I give myself another mental pep talk, I get the familiar, creepy feeling that I’ve caught someone’s attention. My stomach rolls, but I know the game, so I take a deep breath and internally count to ten trying to calm my nerves. I’ve been doing it for a while now so you’d think I’d be used to the feeling. But it’s never gotten easier.

  The weekend after Mandy rescued me on the Nevada Highway, I was introduced to this lifestyle. The cash is too plentiful, and I have become a greedy bitch. Having money to buy what I want is new to me. I’ve never been able to go and buy a brand new Gucci bag or some designer clothes before this. Plus I’m no longer Blaire Morgan from a fucked up family who’s alone in this world… I can be anyone I want.

  Before I make my move, I look at Mandy, who’s also in disguise. She gives me the signal by rubbing her neck seductively. That’s my green light. If she had tapped the table, I would have known to wait for the next one, but Mandy knows her men. She knows who has the real money and who’s just bullshitting. I swear the woman was in the CIA or some shit because she can always detect a lie. And even though she’s taught me her secrets, I’m not as skilled as she is. She always says it’s the details. Watch their
eyes, their movements, and feel their pulse to see if any changes are made. Feel them out. Start with simple questions and always trust your gut.

  After I stand up from my stool, I make a subtle walk past my new target as he and another gentleman sit at a table. Luckily, the restrooms are this direction, so this is easier than acting as if I’m meeting someone else further back or talking on the phone. After about three minutes of checking my make-up, I walk back out and accidently drop my clutch in front of their table. Like a helpless woman. “Crap.” Boobs faced in their direction I bend over to pick it up, but like always, he’s there to help.

  “No, let me.” He stands back up, and I take in his balding head, dark goatee, and broad shoulders, He’s stocky and obviously likes to indulge if his double chin and gut are any inclination. “Here you go, Ms…?”

  “Galloway. Crystal Galloway.” I give him my hand, and just like the rest of the pricks I’ve met this past year, he kisses the back of it. This one is in the bag, baby. Deciding to stoke his ego I kick up my smile and downcast my eyes. My naivety will make these peacocks believe I’m just a young stupid girl. “Thank you.”

  I go to turn, but he stops me by calling my name. “Would you like a drink Ms. Galloway?”

  Turning around to stare in his direction, I bite my lip. He smiles in victory imagining him have a go at this young, clumsy girl in front of him, but he has no clue he’s the one getting fucked tonight.

  Walking into our room at a cheap motel a few towns over, I notice Mandy hasn’t made it in yet. I take a shower and try to wash the ever-present disgust away, but no matter how hard I scrub my skin, it remains. After all the hot water is gone, I get out and wipe the foggy mirror with my hand to see my reflection. I think of the money I stole from that man tonight and swallow down my guilt. Life is about give and take, though. It’s survival, and he had it coming. Right?

  Taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts, my eyes land on the half sleeve I started while in Vegas. Since I have no desire to play music without Benji, I chose a black Fender guitar smashed into several pieces. Not just any guitar either, but an exact replica of Benji’s scratched, beat-up Fender. Even though I don’t have the heart to part with it, I let my tattoo do the talking with its shattered pieces- just like our dream of making it in the music business.